* * *
—
An hour later, I’m relaxing in Savannah’s jetted tub with her laid out against me, her back to my chest. The bubbles she added to the water have long since disintegrated, which gives me an unobstructed view of her perky tits and cherry-red nipples. My fingers have a mind of their own, grazing her breasts, teasing her nipples into perfect little points.
“Keep that up and you’re gonna be in trouble,” Savannah says, her voice husky.
“Trouble?” I chuckle. “I’m all for getting in trouble. What does it entail?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
Of course, I don’t stop teasing. Why would I? If she wants to threaten sensual torture, I’m all for it.
As a matter of fact, I’m ready to inflict a little of my own.
Whatever it is about this woman, my desire for her doesn’t seem to dissipate. Not even a little bit. I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone else in my life. And I’d like to think that’s merely a physical reaction, but I’m not sure that’s the case.
In fact, I know that’s not the case. Not for me.
Going into this, I figured this would be a short-lived affair, something to take the edge off. One of those interactions that allows us to burn off pent-up energy and remain friends on the side.
Only, every second I spend with her, I find myself wanting to be around her more. Not only for the incredible sex. She offers me a comfort I’ve never known and the thought of losing that…That was exactly how I’d felt earlier and I can honestly say, it wasn’t a good feeling.
But this is.
Being with her…
I get the feeling the more I’m with her, it’s only going to get harder whenever whatever this is comes to an end.
Savannah
If it weren’t for Stone tormenting me the way that he is, I could very well be asleep right now. And it wouldn’t even matter that we’re in the bathtub either. My body is sated, my muscles lax, my brain exhausted. However, the heat that’s building inside me once more is something I can’t ignore.
And yes, I’m the one who seems to be pushing for another round of…well, of what happened earlier. This man has invaded my mind and my body. I’m constantly thinking about him, aching for him, craving him. It’s irrational, I know. Especially considering how this thing between us came about.
Technically I have a job to do. Not only acting as a PR liaison and keeping him off the radar of assholes like Devereaux, but I’m also supposed to be digging into his psyche, getting close to him, feeling him out. I seriously doubt this was what my father had in mind when he made his demands. I seem to have taken his request in the literal sense, and now that we’ve crossed that line, I don’t want to go back.
When I’m with Stone like this, nothing matters. Not the season, not the wins, not what Stone’s plans are for the future. Hell, I’m not even thinking about my future. I’m not thinking about anything except getting closer, touching him in ways I’ve only fantasized about. I can’t seem to get enough of this man. And no, it doesn’t matter that I was a little peeved at him for his reaction earlier in the day. When he does those wicked things to my body, I’m reduced to sensations and nothing more.
“Stand up,” he says, his voice a rough command in my ear.
Getting out of the water takes a little effort, but my body doesn’t seem to mind because it’s clear by Stone’s sensual command, I’m going to be in for a treat.
“Turn around,” he instructs.
I turn around and now I’m facing him. Well, technically, I’m standing above him and his face is…right there between my legs.
He pats the edge of the tub.
“Put your right foot here.”
His big hands curl around my leg, keeping me steady as I lift my right foot out of the water, placing it on the edge of the tub.
“I fucking love that you’re bare,” he says gruffly, his breath fanning the sensitive skin between my legs, his fingers gliding over my thighs, inching higher. “So fucking much.”
His fingers trail over my pussy lips, gently separating them. I watch his face, my body heating as his eyes track his fingers. If it weren’t for the fact that I have water dripping off me, he could probably see how wet I am. And that’s from his teasing fingers alone.
He sits up straight, which brings his mouth right to where I want him. His eyes dart up to meet mine briefly before he leans in and licks me like a lollipop. His tongue caresses my clit, but he doesn’t linger. And when I groan my disappointment, he chuckles.
“I could eat your pussy for hours,” he says, his gaze once more shooting up to my face.
I’m so hot, I can’t even respond. I want to beg him to do just that, but the only sound I make is a sigh as he once more licks me. I thought for sure I would be done for the night, but he’s clearly going to prove me otherwise.
It doesn’t take long before my leg is trembling and the possibility of crumpling into a heap is turning into a reality. He must notice because Stone quickly pushes up out of the water, his arms wrapping around me before we’re both climbing out of the tub.
He grabs the towels that I placed on the counter and proceeds to dry us both quickly. The next thing I know, we’re in my bedroom and he’s hovering over me. He produced a condom seconds ago, and I’m forever grateful he’s had the forethought all this time. My brain seems to malfunction around him, but he’s obviously looking out for us both.
I’m expecting him to take me hard and fast, the way he has all the other times, but that’s not at all what happens.
And when he slowly pushes inside me, his hips rocking forward, I wrap my legs around him and hold on. His eyes are locked with mine and I’m suddenly caught up in a new sensation, something I didn’t expect. I get the sexual chemistry. That makes sense to me, but there’s something more at play here. Something that I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around.
Stone takes it slow, his hand curling beneath my knee, holding my leg against his ribs as he fucks me with long, deep strokes.
“Savannah…”
I kiss him, needing to lose myself in something other than his eyes. This has to remain on a sexual level. No way can I get attached to this man, and my stupid heart is threatening to betray me any second now. There’s just too much about him to like. Not only is he beautiful on the outside, he’s beautiful on the inside and I’m drawn to that. Beneath all that stone-cold resolve and determination, Jason Stone is a good man, an honest man.
Rocking my hips, I urge him deeper, my tongue sliding against his as I curl my hand around the back of his neck and hold him to me. My chest expands with every labored breath I take, but I know part of the pressure is coming from my heart. I’m falling for him and I shouldn’t. We didn’t have an agreement per se, but we have talked about what we want and don’t want. Neither of us wants more.
I know that.
And now, as Stone continues to make love to me—and yes, that’s exactly what this is—I’m almost positive I’m going to be the one who hopes for more.
Only, I don’t think either of us has more to give.
Chapter 23
“Can you describe the feeling when you went out on that field for the last game of the regular season, knowing that this was your last year, that you were going to end your career as the quarterback for the Dallas Wranglers?”
“It was unlike anything I’ve ever known. Before I went out there, I thought I’d have problems getting in the zone, maintaining focus. However, being out there felt the same as it had the previous games. When I saw fans wearing my jersey, I knew, just like the other times, that I had to give them everything I had and then some. I wanted to make my city, my team, my fans proud.”
I’d say Jason Stone accomplished that goal, wouldn’t you
?
—Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition
Stone
“This is so cool,” one kid says to another. “Did you know he went to our school?”
“That was a long time ago,” the other kid says, sounding not at all impressed.
I’m smiling, although it’s forced.
Up to this point, I haven’t been bothered by the fact that there are over a hundred kids here to see me and Snyder. Savannah set it up so that they came to see the last part of practice, but now I’m being ushered around by one of Savannah’s assistants as they move the kids to the end zone.
“It doesn’t matter,” the first kid counters. “He’s Jason Stone. Who cares how long it’s been?”
“But he’s not Adam Richter,” the other kid states. “And my dad says he’s not as good.”
Adam Richter? Seriously? He was the previous quarterback for the Dallas Wranglers. He was forced into retirement last year, after a dirty hit broke his back. Hence the reason the Wranglers snatched up Michael Edelston—the rookie I replaced.
“No, he’s better.”
That makes me smile.
“You ready for this?” Snyder asks, nudging my shoulder as we move around the huddle of elementary-school students being situated in long lines.
“Not even a little bit,” I mutter.
“Don’t worry, man. I got your back.”
More like, he’s going to have to lead the charge. No, I’m not at all worried that something inappropriate is going to come out of my mouth. I spent last evening talking to my mother, prepping myself. She was excited for me, as she always is.
Sure, I understand the appeal for these kids. I was in their shoes at one point. However, I do have to find something to talk to them about and that might be an issue. They might be little kids, but their eyes seem to follow me everywhere and the only thing I can think about is them laughing at me when I can’t find the right words to say.
This might not be my first rodeo, but that doesn’t mean I’ve completely overcome the anxiety.
“Dude, this is cool,” Snyder says. “Do you even remember elementary school?”
I hear the teasing in his tone, and I smile despite the obvious jab.
“Oh, I remember,” I tell the rookie. “I guess you do, too, since it was what? Last year?”
Snyder laughs, then his voice drops to barely above a whisper. “I would’ve given my left nut for a chance to see my favorite players up close like this.”
Well, when he puts it that way.
I take a second to scan the group, noticing the familiar T-shirt with my elementary school’s mascot on the front. The kids are all smiling, laughing, talking to one another as teachers do their best to get them in some sort of orderly fashion.
I see Savannah talking to one of the teachers. As if she notices me watching her, her eyes slide over to mine. She shoots a sweet smile and I find myself smiling back at her. I haven’t seen her since early yesterday morning when I left her place after we shared breakfast together. Well, technically, we shared another orgasm or two after that, but then I left. For some reason, we both seem to be inserting a little space between us. I’m not sure why that is, other than we both know that this is heading somewhere neither of us is prepared for.
At one point, I would’ve said I wasn’t ready, but that’s not true. For whatever reason, this feels right to me. In ways I hadn’t expected. However, I don’t have the first clue what the next steps are and truth is, I shouldn’t even be worried about that right now. The season is winding down, and we’ve already clinched a spot in the playoffs. The question now is whether we’ll take first place or not. Only one more game will determine that. That should be my only focus right now.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
My gaze swings over to a little girl sitting in the front row. I smile down at her.
“Actually, I…” I glance over at Savannah momentarily, then turn back to the little girl. “No, but I like someone.”
“You do?” another little girl asks, clearly shocked by my response. “What’s her name?”
Knowing I can’t out Savannah like that, I smile. “That’s a secret.”
“I can keep a secret.”
I grin. “I’m sure you can, but see those?” I point toward the cameras. “They can’t.”
Several kids laugh.
“Did you play football when you were in third grade?” a boy in the third row asks.
“Not officially,” I tell him. “But I did play with some of my friends.”
“Me and my friends play football.”
“Do you?” I take a step closer to the group. “What position do you play?”
“Quarterback,” he says. “Like you.”
“That’s a great position to play.”
Another little boy lifts his head. “My dad says I should be a running back ’cause I’m fast.”
“That’s the best position to play,” Snyder says, his enthusiasm evident. He steps up beside me. “Then you get to hang out with the QB all the time.”
“I wanna hang out with the QB,” another kid notes. “But I’m too small to play.”
“Says who?” I ask.
The kid shrugs.
“What do you eat for dinner?” Snyder asks him.
“Pizza. Sometimes chicken nuggets.”
“Do you eat salad?” I ask, speaking to more of the group.
“Ooh, yuck.”
I knew I would get that reaction, but it makes me laugh anyway. “Yeah. I don’t like salad either. What about fruit?” I peer around at all the faces. “Raise your hand if you eat fruit.”
Almost all the hands go up.
“What’s your favorite fruit?” Snyder asks, pointing to a little girl in the front.
“Bananas,” she answers quickly.
Snyder points to another, then another, all of them announcing their favorite fruit.
As I stand there, engaging with the group of kids, Snyder standing beside me and Savannah watching from the sidelines, I have to wonder whether I’m really ready to give this up.
Sure, I’ll likely get a job as a commentator, still be immersed in the sport. However, I won’t have this, nor will I have the fans and the excitement that comes with running out onto the field.
Snyder nudges me. “Your turn, bro. Tell ’em what your favorite fruit is.”
“Apples,” I answer honestly, my eyes instantly shooting over to Savannah.
When I see her smile, the way she’s watching me, suddenly, I’m feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof again.
Yeah. I really don’t know if I’m ready to give anything up.
Savannah
“Why do you have to?” I ask Stone as we’re walking through the hallway toward the exit to the parking lot. We’ve spent the last few minutes discussing how everything went. He mentioned that he doesn’t think he is ready to give it all up, which is the perfect segue for me, I know.
From my perspective, the event exceeded any and all of my expectations. Jason Stone is a true inspiration. Not only to kids, but to adults alike. He had the kids laughing and smiling, the teachers relaxing. The man was meant to be a star, meant to be in front of people.
He seems a little subdued, and I’m not sure why that is. Or, that could just be me projecting because I’m not sure what’s going on between us right now. Ever since the moment we shared at my place, things have been a little tense between us.
But I’m trying to keep business and personal separate today, although it’s been difficult because I’m just so in awe of Stone, of how he handled things today. It seems every time he opens his mouth, he makes me like him a little more.
Personally, I’m trying to figure out why he wo
uld possibly want to retire, to give this all up. Never once did I see him stumble over an answer, never did his smile falter, and his shoulders seemed to be less tense. I’d go so far as to say he was having fun. And he had the kids so engaged, laughing as he teased Snyder, even cheering. Him and Snyder both. They make quite the pair.
He shrugs. “I’m not sure.”
“Is it what you want?” I ask. “To retire?”
Another shrug. “Right now, I don’t know what I want.”
I get the feeling there’s a wealth of emotion behind that statement, but he doesn’t seem willing to answer. After the phone call from my father this morning, telling me he expects some sort of update on where Stone stands, I know I have to pursue this a little more.
“Okay. So say we win the Super Bowl. Will you still want to retire? Give this up?”
Stone pushes open the door and holds it as I move in front of him. I wait until he’s beside me again.
“Can I take you to dinner?” he asks, totally ignoring my question.
I stop moving and turn to face him. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, you know, the meal between lunch and breakfast?”
He’s smiling, so I take that as a good sign.
“I could eat,” I tell him, using his phrase.
“Good. Me, too.”
“I’ll drive?” I didn’t mean to phrase it as a question, but since he offered dinner, I don’t really know what his plans are.
“How ’bout I drive for once?”
I nod. I’m okay with that.
I’ve missed him since Monday morning. Neither of us texted or called the other, but I haven’t let that bother me. We’re both extremely busy. Plus, I’ve needed the time to hash it all out in my head, trying to figure out where—if anywhere—this thing between us is going.
I don’t resume the conversation until we’re in his Escalade and he’s pulling out of the parking lot.
Bad Business Page 19