"Then do something about it."
"Who are you and what did you do with Rachel?"
"I told you. I've changed. I grew up."
"Honey, I'm growing by the second.” He grinned, looking younger, more vulnerable. Guilt attempted to rear its ugly head, but she ignored it. Tonight Derek belonged to her. She'd forget her ambitions and obligations to family and live in the moment. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Watching his face, Rachel reached around behind her back and unzipped the dress. She let it drop, exposing a lacy pink bra. The dress pooled around her waist, too tight to fall the rest of the way off without a little help. She reached behind and unhooked her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor. Derek's eyes dilated. He licked his lips.
"I think they've gotten bigger,” he croaked.
Pulling the clip out of her hair, she shook it loose. It fell over her shoulders and tickled her nipples. She put her hands under her breasts and pushed them together. He groaned a deep, tortured groan that resonated through his almost naked body. Never taking her eyes off his face, Rachel toyed with her nipples, pinching and plucking them, like she'd often done in the privacy of her bedroom late at night. Only she wasn't in the privacy of her bedroom now. She was performing for a rapt audience of one.
"Damn.” His voice was low, gravelly, sexy. It sent little pinpricks of sensations through her body. A thin layer of sweat beaded on his brow.
Emboldened, Rachel tugged the tight little dress over her hips and down her thighs, turning so Derek got a good view of her bare ass in the little piece of lace doubling as panties.
"Holy shit. Do you always wear underwear like that?"
Coming up behind her, Derek wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. His erection pressed against her butt. His mouth nipped and sucked and licked its way up her shoulders to her neck and her face. He filled his hands with her breasts as he kissed his way down her neck, shoulder blades, the small of her back. Kneeling, the devil nipped at her ass cheeks and coaxed her G-string down her long legs. Rachel tried to turn around, but he held her.
"Don't move."
"But—"
"Mmmm. Yeah, you do have a nice butt.” He ran his large, strong hands up her ankles, knees, thighs, stopping short of paradise. She whimpered. “You always were hot for me, baby, weren't you?"
She nodded. Speech wasn't an option.
"Spread your legs. Good girl. Now bend over."
Frowning, she bent down and moved her legs apart. She put her hands on the couch for balance. Was he going to take her from behind? Right now? They hadn't even kissed yet.
"Lower."
She bent as low as she could, resting her head on the couch. The action exposed her pussy to him, moist and tingling with need. His strong fingers spread her folds apart; his mouth nibbled on her upper thighs. She shivered, holding her breath when his long index finger slid inside her.
"Damn, you're wet, Rae.” He took it easy. His finger was gentle as he pushed deeper into her tight little hole. It'd been so long, she'd probably be considered a born-again virgin. Of course, he didn't know that, and he wouldn't. Better he thought she got around and their liaison was nothing special, nothing but filling a physical need.
He took his time until he'd buried his finger inside her to his knuckle. She pushed back against his hand, changing the angle, helping him go deeper. Her clit throbbed, aching for his touch. He didn't neglect it. His thumb found the little nub. He thrust his finger in and out, faster and faster, all the while teasing her clit. The walls of her pussy clenched around his finger. She buried her head in the couch cushion and bit her knuckles as the world swirled around her.
"Dare. I—Oh my. Oh my. I—” She shuddered, pressed her head into the cushion, and gripped it with her fingers. The world started to drop away underneath. She poised on the edge.
He groaned. She was just about ready to come when he stopped. She cried out in protest and tried to stand. He held her down with a firm hand on her back.
"Getting a little greedy, aren't you?” Derek teased.
"I'm very greedy."
"Then this is for you, baby.” His fingers walked down her spine, counting every vertebra.
"How do you know what I like?"
"I know.” His mouth replaced his finger. He pushed his tongue inside her and thrust it in and out. A few seconds later she exploded into oblivion, floated around the cosmos for a while, and then was reborn.
He didn't give her much recovery time. Instead he flipped her onto her back on the couch and tore off his boxers. Panting, she stared at his large cock and tried to come back to earth so she could fly again.
"Rae, this ain't gonna be pretty. I don't have much control left."
Rachel gazed at him. His dark eyes blazed with undisguised lust. His body vibrated with pent-up frustration. His cock jerked in anticipation. She nodded. It was all the encouragement he needed.
"Oh, crap. Damn, I need a condom.” He glanced around frantically.
"Don't bother. I'm on the pill, assuming you're clean."
"Honey, I'm so clean, I squeak.” He threw his head heavenward. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
"So, Dare, what are you waiting for? You're in the red zone; time to score."
He grasped her ankles and pulled them over her head, leaving her open and exposed. She felt the cool air on her swollen pussy. Then the warm tip of his cock touched her soaked entrance. The cords of his neck stood out from the strain of controlling himself as he slowly pushed inside. He gritted his teeth.
"You are so fucking tight, Rae. Just like I remember.” Sweat dampened his chest and mingled with hers. He withdrew, held himself for a moment, then sank into her again, a little deeper each time. Rachel tightened her muscles around him. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned.
"Give it to me, big boy,” she begged.
"Oh yeah. You got it, baby.” He released her ankles, and she wrapped them around his waist.
Despite her wetness, she was so tight he had to go slow. Inch by heavenly inch, he filled her. Her muscles stretched around him. She felt a little discomfort, but it faded quickly. After a few more tries, he penetrated her completely. Buried balls-deep inside her, he pulled almost completely out, then paused. She shuddered, used her legs to pull him closer. He thrust deep inside her in one easy, slow stroke. He repeated the movement. Slow retreat. Pause. Hard, fast, deep stroke. Over and over again.
She tossed her head back and forth, driven crazy by his slow conquest. She needed more. Much more.
Supporting his weight on his elbows, his face filled her entire line of vision. His mouth covered hers. His tongue slipped inside. She kissed him back. Their tongues mated as wildly as their bodies, long and deep, in and out, building in intensity. She moaned. Her fingernails dug into his back. Her tongue tangoed with his. His slow, steady strokes picked up speed until his balls slapped against her pussy. She dug her heels into his back and angled her hips in an attempt to pull him deeper.
Their wet bodies slid over each other. Rachel ran her hands down his sides, then grabbed his fine ass. Adjusting her pelvis, she matched his wild rhythm. Derek's control disintegrated. He plunged into her over and over again with the velocity of a race car on the last lap of the Indy 500. The finish line loomed on the horizon.
Rachel teetered near the edge but didn't want to go alone. She urged him on, locked her ankles together, and hugged his body with her legs. Derek quivered and groaned. Rachel shattered into a million erotic pieces and cried out his name. He shot his load deep inside her, his cock jerking from the effort. His warmth filled her, overtook her, engulfed her.
They came together, climbing higher and higher, gravity not an issue, until their bodies united. Their minds melded. A bond that transcended the physical connected them. Eventually they floated on a soft cloud back to reality.
She held tightly to him, wrapped in his warmth, kissing his neck and mouth, and wondered how the hell she'd
be able to keep her emotions out of this.
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Chapter Thirteen
In the Zone
Derek woke feeling better than he had in a long time. Stretching lazily, he reached for Rachel and pulled her into his arms. She made a little purring sound and cuddled next to his chest. He stroked her long hair and kissed her cheek.
"Good mornin', darling,” he drawled in his fake imitation of a southern accent. He could stay like this forever.
"Good morning to you."
"Did you sleep well?"
"I did. What about you?” She ran her fingers down his chest, over his belly, until they circled his cock. It hardened on command, ready for a repeat performance.
"Oh yeah.” He rolled her onto her back and pushed her legs apart with his knee.
"Are you ready for breakfast?"
He chuckled and growled. “I need a little nourishment."
"So do I. Why don't you feed our appetites?"
She only had to ask once. When it came to feeding that type of appetite, he was a master chef and he'd treat her to a gourmet feast.
She lay beneath him, moving her body in a sultry dance meant to entice. Her green eyes captured his gaze, and he slipped into their warmth as a whirlpool of sensations assaulted him. He shoved aside the tender emotions that hinted this was more than mere sex. They had an agreement, a deal, an arrangement. No emotions allowed other than the most basic carnal ones.
Derek glanced at the clock. He didn't have much time, but he doubted it'd take long, judging by the tightness in his groin.
Rachel spread her legs wider, smiling up at him, inviting him. She beckoned him like a siren's call. His gaze glued to her face, he slid inside her, finding her wet and ready for him. He held himself deep and took a moment to savor the warmth surrounding his cock, pressing against it. Her eyes glittered with need, but she too held still, wrapped in the magic of the moment. To move would break the spell, yet he had to move, had to seek release, had to divert the tenderness overwhelming him into physical need.
He broke eye contact and looked down at their joined bodies. Gathering his wits—what there was of them—he began to move inside her. He intended to keep it under control, but urgency born of an insatiable need won him over. Rachel didn't appear to have any complaints.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, dug her heels into his ass, and held on for an eight-second ride. His powerful thrusts matched her frenzied rhythm, and in minutes they'd left the bounds of earth. He came hard and fast, and she came with him.
Afterward he held her close and rested his head on her chest, content to listen to her heartbeat.
"You should get going. Shouldn't you be at the field pretty soon?"
"Huh?” Derek jerked his head to stare at the alarm. “Oh shit. I'd forgotten it was that late.” He shot up in bed, swung his leg over the side. Hesitating, he reached out to caress her cheek. “I'm sorry, baby. I have to go."
"I know."
He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. “Will you be at the game?"
"Of course, with your biggest fan, my loving brother Mitch.” She smiled.
He grinned. “See you there. I'll look for you."
"Good luck."
After the past several hours, he didn't need luck. His body hummed with energy. His mind was cleared of all the crap he'd been dragging around.
Today was his day.
Rachel waited until Derek's truck rumbled from the garage. She threw on her clothes and let herself out. Simon tagged along.
She walked the short distance to her little house, kneeing Simon as he attempted to shove past her.
Okay, regret time, right? Now was when the good girl part of her chastised the bad girl from last night. Pursing her lips, Rachel pushed that good girl down and shoved a gag in her mouth. She wasn't going there. No regrets; they weren't allowed. The new Rachel didn't feel guilt over sleeping with a man for the pure pleasure of it. And it had been pleasure—sexy, fun, carnal pleasure. The new Rachel would satisfy her needs with Derek. Eventually, once she got everything she wanted, she'd move on to another man without blinking an eye. Later.
Then, much later, she'd find another willing partner and test her newfound freedom and promiscuity. Of course, she'd practice safe sex even though she was on the pill to regulate her periods. She'd make sure any and all future partners used protection.
Derek had been different. She'd trusted him to be clean. Maybe she shouldn't, but she did.
Not that she'd be a slut; she just wouldn't be a twenty-seven-year-old woman who'd only slept with one guy. She'd experience other men and hopefully wipe Derek's stamp off her heart. Of course, last night didn't exactly aid in that crusade. No matter, she'd do it. And sleeping with him built her confidence, not just in her sexual abilities, but in her ability to get to the truth. When the time came, he'd confess his sins. He'd do the right thing.
For now she'd better hop in the shower and get ready for the game before her brother showed up and figured out how she'd spent her night. Surely the afterglow of great sex reflected in her eyes and advertised itself in the way she carried herself.
Well, big brother could speculate all he wanted. She didn't screw and tell.
Derek did a double take when he walked into the locker room. Frowning, he approached Dante, who was still dressed in his street clothes, crutches propped next to the bench beside him.
"What the fuck happened to you?” Derek shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a hook in his locker.
"I reinjured my knee in Friday practice."
"I thought that was nothing.” Derek peeled his T-shirt off and stepped out of his jeans.
"It turns out it was something. I might be out for the season."
"Oh man.” He shrugged into his shoulder pads.
"Don't sweat it, kid. It might be your big break. HughJack won't take a chance on you if I'm healthy."
"I don't want a big break at someone else's expense, especially yours. I want to earn it myself."
"You have earned it, Ramsey. You've worked your ass off these past few weeks.” Dante paused as HughJack approached. He nodded to the injured player, then turned to Derek.
"You're starting this afternoon, got it?"
Derek stared at his coach in disbelief. “Uh, yes, sir. I got it."
Dante grinned as HughJack moved away. “You'll do fine. Good luck, man."
Derek tried not to think as he went through the motions putting on the rest of his pads, uniform, and cleats. He listened to all the pregame stuff but didn't hear a thing. Butterflies flitted around in his stomach, but he forced an indifferent expression on his face. Never show weakness, especially not with this pack of coyotes. Already the offensive linemen were eyeing him, assessing whether he'd be up to the task of being a starting wide receiver.
Grabbing his helmet, he sprinted onto the field with the rest of his teammates to a smattering of applause. Losing season after losing season combined with a zero and four start didn't breed large, enthusiastic crowds.
The LA Sharks boasted a three-win, one-loss season. The oddsmakers picked them as a two-touchdown favorite against the Jacks; not exactly a vote of confidence. Derek didn't care. Today, things changed.
His gaze sought out Rachel in the stands next to her asshole brother. Derek waved; she waved back. Smiling like a fool, he turned back to his job, all business. Things were improving. Mitch didn't even flip him off this time.
She looked good—not as hot as last night, but more like his Rachel, even though she was wearing more makeup and a cute little top. Seeing her brought back all those good feelings. A calm strength renewed him. He could do this. It was his time. Their time. The entire team's time.
The Sharks kicked off to the Jacks, who took a fair catch.
Relaxed and loose, Derek jogged to the huddle. He felt great. Beyond great. Rejuvenated. Free. Confident. Like a new man.
Things just got better.
For the next sixty minutes, he w
as all over the field, catching everything tossed his way, throwing blocks, and even tackling a safety who intercepted one of Tyler's passes. By halftime he'd caught two touchdown passes for seventy-five yards. By the end of the game, he had another touchdown and several more receptions. So many, in fact, he came within a few yards of breaking the team record for most receptions in a game. Everything fell into place like pieces of an almost finished puzzle.
HughJack didn't slam down his clipboard once. Razor just smiled and nodded. No words needed. They won easily against a very good defensive team and improved their record to one and four.
Perhaps there was something to having sex the night before a game. It'd never worked for him before, but then he'd never had sex with Rachel during his pro career.
Razor slapped him on the back in the locker room. “Keep that up, man, and they'll be forgetting my name."
Derek laughed. “I have you to thank for all this.” Him and Rachel.
"No, man, I didn't do a damn thing. It's your hands and your talent."
"You've spent a lot of time with me."
"Purely selfish. I want a Super Bowl ring as a coach."
Derek shrugged. If Razor wanted to play it cool, it was fine with him.
"You took my advice, didn't you?"
"I took a lot of your advice on running routes, catching the ball, tucking it away—"
"I'm talking about getting laid. You got laid last night. I knew it the minute you walked into the locker room this morning."
"That obvious?"
"To me. Whoever she is, keep her around for the season."
"I just might do that.” Like it would be possible to let her go after last night. It had nothing to do with winning a football game—that was just the cherry on the whipped cream.
The coach gathered the team together for a quick postgame talk. Electricity ran through the room. They all felt it. They'd turned a corner, entered new territory.
HughJack waited for their undivided attention. “Gentlemen, today was our first win, but I think every man in here knows it was more than that. More than beating a team we shouldn't have beaten. They played an almost flawless game, but we won. Today you found a way to win instead of a way to lose. That's what good teams do.” He looked at each one of them as he tossed a football back and forth from one hand to the other. “Great teams know they're going to win. We're a long ways from being a great team, but today we became a good team."
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