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Blurb
Isabel Deans has a secret—she’s always lusted after Tyler Jameson. Call it an unfortunate infatuation with her brothers’ best friend. A surprise meeting at rugby training brings a provocative proposition. One month of hot sex then they’ll both walk away with no tears, no drama.
Issy isn’t a fool. She says yes. Let the month begin. Each touch between them sizzles with pure magic. Passionate. Intense and even better than she imagined. Issy is riding high on Tyler and her hot prospects as a representative rugby player until reality steps in with a forward pass…
Chapter One
“Oh man, have you seen the replacement coach?” Angela, the Auckland Jets’ star winger, bounded into the changing rooms, dressed in sweats with her rugby boots dangling over her shoulder by their laces. She shook her umbrella, scattering raindrops over everyone in the vicinity, and kissed her fingertips with loud moans of sexual appreciation. “An ass to die for and the rest of the package isn’t too shabby.”
The players who had already arrived for training started firing questions. Who was he? Was he single? Did he have a girlfriend?
Isabel “Issy” Deans grinned and moved her gear farther down the drafty changing room, out of range of the dripping umbrellas and equally wet teammates arriving for training. Rain rattled the tin roof, drowning out anything but a shout while the winter wind whistled through the open door. She shivered, whipped her good work jumper over her head and traded it for a faded training jersey.
“His name is Tyler Jameson and he’s coaching us until the end of the season since Allen is sick. He’s just returned from playing rugby in Japan because he wants to coach now that his contract with the Japanese club has expired, he’s single and you’re right. The man’s a babe.” Patricia Coates, another new arrival, fluttered her lashes in a sultry wink. “With a mighty fine ass.”
Everyone shrieked with laughter apart from Issy. She froze in the middle of peeling panty hose down her legs. Tyler Jameson. Why of all the coaches in the world did it have to be her neighbor and teenage crush Tyler Jameson? She hadn’t even known he’d returned home, but then maybe he wasn’t staying with his parents.
Issy rummaged for her socks and attempted to breathe through the nerves that tromped in spiked boots through the pit of her stomach. She’d thought her crush on Tyler had faded. After all, she hadn’t thought about him for months. Heck, she’d even dated a few times this year between rugby training and work. She hadn’t thought about Tyler during her engagement. Well, not much, she amended with a sliver of guilt.
Her heart dived into uneven palpitations and she had to wipe her moist palms on her jersey. A simple fact. Tyler Jameson made her nervous. Clumsy. Her fingers turned to thumbs and her feet inexplicably grew when she was around him. During the throes of her crush her lack of coordination had left her mortified, but these days she usually managed to regain her equilibrium after an hour or so of embarrassment. Maybe by the time she reached old age, she’d get the nerves down to a minute of crazy.
Or not.
She groaned while she wriggled out of her tight black skirt and exchanged it for black leggings. She had one goal this year—to make the Black Ferns, New Zealand’s female representative rugby team. If Tyler Jameson had his normal effect on her, she might as well kiss her chances of making the Ferns goodbye. No! Somehow, she’d get him out of her system for good. She would make the team as planned.
A sharp knock sounded on the changing room door. “Ladies, you decent in there? Can I come in?”
Yep, it was Tyler Jameson all right. She’d recognize his gravelly voice anywhere. Issy swallowed her groan of dismay. Her hands trembled when she attempted to lace up her rugby boots. She stopped, clenched her fingers to a fist and straightened them before attempting to lace her boots again.
“Just a sec, coach,” Patricia shouted. Although fully dressed and ready for training, she whipped her jersey over her head to display bountiful breasts. “All decent,” she called.
Issy rolled her eyes, not at Patricia’s shenanigans but at the spike of jealousy that struck her hard. This crush was worse than she’d admitted. She was feeling possessive about Tyler. Coupled with nerves, this situation was a disaster waiting to happen.
Tyler Jameson waited for the all clear before entering. “Everyone ready for training?” His gaze scanned the women. Hell, there was always one. He ignored the blatant show of curved assets and counted the number of women present. Great. Everyone was here.
“Warm up first. Stretches then two laps of the field.” The collective groan made him grin. But despite the rain, which had eased, and the brisk wind outside, the women filed outside, eager to start training. Allen, his mentor, had said they were keen and he’d boasted several of his players were good prospects for the Black Ferns. Tyler was looking forward to coaching the team. He scanned the faces of those remaining and did a double take.
“Issy? Is that you?” Issy Deans halted in front of him, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression on her face, brown eyes big and wide. His friend’s sister wasn’t skin and bones with lanky legs anymore. He grabbed her in a quick hug, hormones zapping to stunned life and heading south to stir his dick. Well, hell, she didn’t feel gangly either. “Great to see you. Allen told me you’re one of his stars.”
“Tha-thanks,” she muttered.
Tyler hid a grin at the cute stutter. She’d always stammered a little during their exchanges. “Better get out there and start laps before the rest of the team think I’m playing favorites.”
Issy cast him an uncertain glance before inching past. Did she think he was going to bite? Once clear of the changing rooms, she broke into a trot, her smooth motion mesmerizing and the flex of her ass a wonderful thing. Her chocolate brown hair was long, tied back in a jaunty tail, and his mind drifted to how it might appear loose. A silent whistle shaped his lips. The woman had sure grown into her legs. He smirked.
Hell yeeeah. He’d like a bite of that.
Maybe he’d ask her out. There was a month left of the season. Under normal circumstances, he’d steer away from romantic entanglements, keep things professional. But since season-end neared, and he intended to accept the Auckland Dragons assistant coach position, he could justify personal involvement. As long as her brothers didn’t appear home on leave from the army to act the heavy chaperones. Damn, maybe the road he traveled in his mind wasn’t a good direction.
Deep in thought, Tyler ambled into the rain. About the only downside of the job. Rugby was a winter sport. Rain. Mud. Biting cold wind. Tyler turned up the collar on his woolen coat and grabbed the blue-and-white-striped golf umbrella he’d left by the door before heading out on the field to wait for the women to finish their laps. Once they’d completed their warm-up he’d separate them into backs and forwards and put them through their paces. He’d see if their talent merited Allen’s boasts.
* * * * *
Two hours later Issy and the rest of the team headed to the changing rooms for a hot shower. Her lungs burned from the sprint exercises and the fast and furious seven-a-side game they’d played to finish the session. Her hip ached where she’d fallen hard in a tackle and her leggings were soaked and clung to her legs. The wind whistled down the field, nipping at exposed skin. Her ears ached from the cold, and she couldn’t wait to hit the showers and go home.
“Issy! Can I have a word?”
She turned on hearing her name, her heart stuttering in the same way her voice wobbled whenever she tried to form sentences in front of Tyler. The man was a menace, albeit a sexy one. And Patricia was right. He possessed a very fine ass.
Not that she looked.
Much.
She halted near the door to shelter from the rain and the worst of the wind. “Yes?”
“Do you want a ride home?”
“It’s okay. I…wa-was going to cadge a ride home with one of the others.”
Tyler smiled, his blue eyes twinkling and reminding her of the ocean on a
fine, sunny day. With his black curls, the dimple to the right of his mouth and his sexy blue eyes at half-mast he looked like a mischievous angel freshly tumbled from heaven. Too much man for her to handle.
“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem. I’ll wait for you to shower.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and shunted her toward the changing room door. His touch burned through her sodden shirt and to her acute embarrassment, she tripped over her own feet. Before she hit the ground, Tyler scooped her up, holding her close to his chest despite her wet clothes.
Issy gulped, kept her gaze trained away, for all of two seconds. Her nipples hardened to tight peaks against her wet sports bra and stabbed into his chest. Mortified, she wriggled, attempting to ease away. He must have noticed. This close she could see the slight shadows beneath his eyes and smell the exotic vanilla and patchouli scent of his aftershave. A hint of dark stubble shaded his cheeks and as she watched, his mouth curved into a smile.
“You’re shivering. You’d better take a shower before the rest of the team use the hot water.”
Issy stumbled into the changing room. The showers were already in use, fragrant steam rising from behind plastic curtains. Several of the girls had already showered and changed into warm jeans and jumpers.
“Looks like you’re in there, Issy,” Patricia said with a trace of envy.
“Our families live next door to each other and Tyler used to knock around with my brothers. He’s four years older than me.” Issy snapped her mouth shut. Giving too much information would make her look as if she were hiding something. While she might be interested in Tyler, he’d always favored curvy blondes. Much to her despair. She wasn’t blonde and she missed curvy by a mile.
“Hmmm.” Patricia looked thoughtful before grinning. “Plenty more sexy fish in the ocean. See ya at training on Thursday.”
Issy stripped off her wet clothes and grabbed the next free shower. She’d have to accept his offer of a ride home whether she wanted to or not. Thank goodness the season was almost over and Tyler’s coaching was a temporary thing. A month would go fast enough.
Fifteen minutes later, Issy walked from the changing shed, warm in her change of clothes but with nerves darting around her belly. Her hand tightened around the bag containing her training gear and work clothes. What if she forgot herself and jumped him? Or what if she tripped and fell flat on her face?
Again.
Heat collected in her face when she recalled a time when she’d done that big time, far worse than tonight’s little trip. Of course, at least if she repeated the fiasco, she was wearing jeans. Last time she hadn’t been so lucky. She hadn’t worn a thong for a long time after that memorable occasion.
“Ah, finally. I thought you’d washed down the plug hole.” Tyler wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close so they could share his umbrella. Engulfed by his warmth and his musky scent, her nerves intensified and she concentrated hard on foot placement. What would he do, she wondered, if she flung off her clothes and told him to help himself?
Tyler led her over to a blue SUV and opened the passenger door. Always the gentleman. Issy liked that about him. There was a lot she liked about Tyler. Too much. Heck, why did he have to turn up right now? With the Black Ferns’ trials approaching, the last thing she needed was a broken leg or similar injury caused by Tyler-induced clumsiness.
“Are you doing anything tonight?”
“No,” Issy said. “I’m the only one at home. I’ll probably have soup for dinner and watch television.”
Tyler started his SUV and backed from the parking space. “Good, you can come for a drink with me.”
“But—”
“I hate eating alone. We can catch up and you can tell me what your brothers are doing.”
Issy’s teeth clacked together when she shut her mouth. He wasn’t interested in her. He wanted to hear about her brothers.
“Okay,” she mumbled, convinced she was making a mistake. “Adam is home on leave soon,” she said, figuring that discussing her brothers was a way of getting through the night without too much stress. A safe topic to steady her tension.
“How long have you been playing for the Jets?” Tyler asked.
“T-two years.”
Tyler glanced across the cab at her and grinned. It lit up his face, bringing his cute dimples into play. Her pulse rate ratcheted up a notch. Licks of heat sizzled across her skin. For fleeting seconds she visualized sex with Tyler—naked bodies writhing together, his cock thrusting into her slowly, steadily. Driving her toward climax. Kissing him. Touching him. A full-body shiver rocketed from her shoulders to her toes and Tyler, damn him, noticed.
“Still cold?” He leaned over and flicked a switch. Warm air blew on her feet, intensifying his sexy scent and her panic. Issy drew shallow breaths in self-preservation. This just wasn’t going to work.
Issy concentrated on getting through the ordeal and minimizing embarrassment, answering his questions with minor stuttering. Next time she’d arrange a ride before Tyler offered. Somehow she had to deal with having Tyler as her coach and concentrate on what was important—fulfilling her dream to make the Black Ferns.
Tyler parked near the Cock and Bull in Botany. It was an English-style pub, all the rage with the after-work crowd and equally popular with eager shoppers taking a break during weekends. Issy climbed from the SUV and gave silent thanks the rain seemed to have stopped. This winter had been so cold and she wasn’t sure if she preferred the heavy rain or the mornings that started with heavy frosts and ice. Neither was brilliant when it came to her early morning training runs.
Tyler fell into step, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her close to his side. Issy wanted to protest but fear of more uncharacteristic stammers prodded her to remain silent and allow the move. Instead, she stored up sensations to drag out later while she attempted to sleep in her single bed. He pushed the door open and stood back to let her enter.
Loud chatter and raucous laughter from a group of eight men and women blasted her ears. A musician was setting up his equipment, ready to play. They pushed their way through the crowd around the bar. The scent of beer and food hit her, making her stomach grumble. She’d missed lunch so she could leave her office job early for training.
“Do you mind if we order our meals first?” Tyler’s grin made her heart do another of those flip-flop somersaults before it settled back into place. “I’m starving.”
“Okay.” It was all she could squeeze past her dry lips.
“I’m having fish and chips and a beer,” Tyler said. “What would you like?”
“Fish…sounds good.” Issy took a deep breath. “I’ll have beer as well.”
“There’s a free table over there,” Tyler said. “Grab it while I order.”
Issy followed instructions even while she wondered what the hell she was doing. This…this infatuation she had for Tyler was school-girlish. He was older than her and they had nothing in common except her brothers and rugby. A big part of her life—true—but that didn’t mean she should act on her feelings. She’d end up making a big fool of herself. Issy took off her coat and draped it across the back of her chair before taking a seat.
Tyler arrived not long after with two beers and their order number. His gaze was intent as he set the beers on the coasters she’d positioned ready. Her mouth was parched and she needed that beer.
“You’ve changed,” he said.
Before she could formulate an answer, he’d put the beers down and taken the seat beside her. His hard jeans-clad thigh pressed against hers and he leaned over, closing the distance between them. His large hand cupped her cheek and he smiled gently before kissing her.
If Issy had thought she’d been kissed before, she was wrong. Very wrong. This was a claiming, a statement of intent. He tasted her mouth in a series of slow, tantalizing kisses that made her tummy quake. She froze at the touch of his tongue tracing the curve of her bottom lip, started to protest.
Tyler took advantage, pu
shing the kiss into personal and sensual. Her objections drifted away like wisps of winter fog, and Issy found herself clutching his broad shoulders, one hand moving to his nape. His crisp black curls slipped through her fingers while he sipped and explored her mouth with an experience that gave her pause. Slowly, he pulled back. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling with devilry.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you tonight,” he whispered. “Come home with me, Issy. Please.”
Issy stared at his fallen-angel face in shock. She swallowed, her gaze dropping to his mouth and lingering. Those sexy lips had kissed her. In public. And now he wanted to do even more. Her gaze rose to his eyes. The teasing expression had faded, replaced by determination.
“What about my brothers?” she asked, forgetting to stutter in her shock. Self-consciously she moved her hands from his shoulders and tucked them primly in her lap.
“I’m not inviting them,” Tyler said. “That would be a little kinky, don’t you think?” He chuckled before sobering and stood to remove his coat then sat again. “Besides, with the way my thoughts are going, they’d beat me to a pulp. I’m glad they’re not on leave right now.”
Issy grabbed one of the beers and took a sip. When she realized Tyler was watching, she gulped the contents. What the heck was going on? It wasn’t April Fool’s Day.
“Why?” she blurted, setting her beer on the center of a coaster. “I’m not blonde. I’m not your type.”
“You are definitely my type.” Tyler patted her knee but it turned into a tortuous caress that sent desire ricocheting straight to her core. “We have lots in common. We both love rugby and understand the commitment required to play sport at high levels. The kissing worked well. We won’t have problems.” His voice deepened to husky and his eyelids fell to half-mast. “What do you think?”
“We…you’re my coach.” Issy grabbed her beer again and drank more of the amber liquid. It slid down her throat, leaving the crisp taste of hops in her mouth. “It’s…a…a conflict.”
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