Griff Montgomery, Quarterback

by Jean C. Joachim

  Griff grabbed her. With their lips locked, he pushed her back up against the front door, slamming it, while he pushed off her jacket and pushed up her camisole.

  Lauren fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally spreading it open, laying his chest bare to her touch. She heard him hiss as she ran her palms up his skin. He cupped her breasts, bending to kiss her neck. Heat flew to her core when his thumbs found her peaks. She thrust her hips up against his as her need for him grew. He gripped her rear end and pressed his erection into her.

  “Perfect fit, top and bottom,” he said.

  Feeling his desire growing ramped up hers. Raising her chin, she accepted his hard kiss. When he demanded her full surrender with his mouth, Lauren’s insides became liquid. Dampness between her legs, and the itch to have him fill her, inspired small moans from her lips.

  “Want me?” he mumbled before nibbling on her neck.

  “Oh, God, Griff. Yes, yes…let’s—”

  Before she could finish, he snaked his hand under her skirt and ripped her panties off. Spike barked, but they ignored him. Griff pushed the garment up. Lauren grasped his shoulders as he lifted her, her back leaning against the door. She squeezed her hand between them, unzipped his pants, and released his hard shaft from the confines of his clothing. Closing her fingers around him, she guided him to her center.

  “Damn, woman,” he muttered as he eased into her.

  “Fuck,” she said softly, her eyes closing as he rammed her down on him.

  “Ooooh, she talks dirty,” he whispered, moving her up and down.

  She arched, pushing her breasts into his chest. Speech escaped Lauren. Her senses ruled her mind and body. Need rose up as he took her, stroke after hard stroke, until a strong orgasm contracted her every muscle. She screamed his name as her hips moved on their own.

  Opening her eyes, she saw lust in his. His gaze studied her face, drinking in every aspect of her release. Totally naked, body and soul, with him, love shot through her like never before. All pretense washed away in that raw moment when the lovers were ruled by their animal passions. She wanted him. She needed him. And now, she had him.

  Griff closed his eyes as he increased the pace. Her breasts rubbed against the hair on his chest, making her nipples hard again. She folded her fingers over his shoulders and lowered her head to lick and suck his neck. He groaned as she went to work on him.

  “Fuck, you’re killing me,” he moaned, but she didn’t stop.

  He tightened his grip on her, slammed her down on him hard, and held her there. A loud sound from his throat, that ended with her name and his closed eyes, spelled his climax. She wound her legs around his waist as he clung to her. They lingered in the embrace. Lauren buried her face in his shoulder and sighed. His scent and his aftershave teased her nose.

  With one hand under her rear and one holding her back, he slowly lowered her to the floor. Spike broke the spell by licking Lauren’s bare leg. Her knees wobbled like jelly. She leaned against him, and he supported her.

  “I’ve never done that before,” she said, reaching down to pet the pug.

  “What?”

  “Not been able to wait to get to the bedroom.”

  He chuckled. “Me, neither.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t? I thought you’d done everything there was to do.”

  “Not by a long shot. That was amazing.”

  She slid her hands up his chest and looked into his eyes. “Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

  He combed his fingers through her hair and kissed her nose. “You’re welcome.”

  The dog barked and jumped up on them. Lauren pushed her clothing down. Griff buttoned his shirt and zipped his pants. She fastened the leash on the wiggly canine, and Griff took him for his nighttime walk.

  Lauren was in bed when he returned. She stretched her legs then her whole body, fisting her hands and reaching for the headboard. A purr of contentment bubbled up inside. Happiness mixed with satisfaction in her veins. She scooted over to make room for her lover.

  Griff stretched out and opened his arms to her. Lauren cuddled into his shoulder. Resting a palm on his chest, she sighed.

  He leaned over and kissed her hair. “Thank you for an amazing night. Sleep well, beautiful.”

  “You’re the best,” she replied.

  As their body temperatures returned to normal, the chill in the air caused Lauren to pull the comforter up to their shoulders. When she heard his even breathing, she twisted away a bit, turned on her side, and gazed at the face of the naked, handsome man in her bed. His mussed up, straight hair shone blue black in a narrow beam of moonlight. Scruff shadowed his face, emphasizing the planes of his cheekbones. His lips were sensuous, sending chills down her spine when she recalled their soft feel and what they could do.

  Lauren combed her fingers through his hair gently, so as not to wake him. But he was roused anyway, taking her hand, kissing the palm, and trapping it over his heart. She snuggled up to him. Committed to the sexiest man in football. Can he really commit to me? Think I should give him a chance.

  Afraid to examine her luck too closely, Lauren closed her eyes, allowing sleep and contentment to take over.

  * * * *

  Rolling over at six, the darkness seduced Griff into staying under the covers. December and January mornings were the hardest ones for him to push himself up and out to get to the stadium on time. It was only practice this morning, but Coach Bass was strict about starting time. He had two hours before he had to be there.

  The quarterback slid back a few inches and turned his attention to the woman in his bed. Her dark hair tangled on the pillow, and her long, black lashes fanned out beautifully on her cheek. He wanted to kiss the tip of her small nose, but held back, afraid to wake her. His gaze traveled down her long, graceful neck to her chest.

  He eased the covers down a bit to reveal her breasts. God, how he loved those. They fit his hands, which itched at the idea of squeezing the soft flesh. A warm feeling emanated from his heart. Was it love? Probably. He hadn’t been over-the-moon, crazy in love since he was twenty. His emotions brought a smile to his face. He wanted to squish her against him, make love to her forever.

  He’d found what he was looking for. She’d agreed to commitment, surely she’d agree to marriage. That pesky thing about miscarriages? Crap. Silly shit. He’d joke her out of that worry. Peace blended with anticipation. He’d found his soul mate, the woman he wanted to talk to almost as much as he wanted to sleep with. She took good care of him, and he’d return the favor, forever. He chuckled to himself. Guess I owe Spike for bringing us together.

  Griff stretched as quietly as he could, but Lauren rolled over anyway. He had it all now. A winning season, a new contract in the making, and the love of his life made his dreams come true. Does it get any better than this? He didn’t think so. She continued to sleep, so he slipped out of the quilt and padded toward the kitchen. I’ll make breakfast for her this morning.

  He whistled as he put up coffee. Opening the fridge, he rummaged through the contents, until he found the ingredients for a mushroom and spinach omelet. He sliced the mushrooms while butter melted in the pan. Although he was no cook, he’d watched Lauren make these a hundred times, so he knew what to do.

  While the spinach and mushrooms cooked, he dug out a couple of pieces of ham.

  “Perfect,” he said, his stomach growling in anticipation. He switched the flame on under another pan and tossed it in.

  “What are you doing?”

  Griff jumped straight up in the air. “Creep up on a guy, why don’t ya?” He turned to find Lauren, wrapped in her robe, yawning.

  “I’m sorry. I smelled the coffee and something else. Couldn’t place it, so I got up.”

  “Butter. Maybe mushrooms?”

  “That’s it. What’s going on here?” She approached the stove, but Griff grabbed her waist and pulled her away.

  “I’m making breakfast for you.”

  “You are?
Why?”

  “Because I love you. Now go. Get some coffee and leave the master chef alone.” He gave her a gentle shove toward the coffeepot and patted her behind.

  “Early practice?” She filled the mug on the counter.

  “Yep. Big game tomorrow night.”

  “Who are you playing?”

  “Nevada Gamblers.”

  “Are they good?” She added a touch of sugar and milk then stirred.

  “Yeah. Big, too. Linebackers are fucking machines.”

  She sat down and watched him add eggs to the pan. “Machines?”

  “Yeah. Known for mowing down quarterbacks.”

  “Aren’t there penalties for that?”

  “Unnecessary roughness? Sure. But by then, it’s too late.”

  “They won’t hurt you, will they?”

  He loved the note of concern in her voice. “Nah. My guys are the best. I’m not afraid. We’ve played them before.”

  “Good.” She blew out a breath. “I was worried for a minute.”

  “About me?” He ambled over to the table where she sat, sipping her coffee.

  “Of course.”

  “How come?”

  “Because I love you, and I don’t want you to get killed.” She pushed up to a half-stand to kiss him.

  “They won’t lay a finger on me, honey,” he whispered. Her words warmed his heart.

  Griff finished his omelet, which turned out surprisingly well considering it was his first effort. When the meal was done, they held hands over their beverages. Griff was reluctant to leave her, though he needed to dress and go.

  He washed up and threw on work-out clothes. As he was heading for the door, Lauren put her hand on his arm.

  “I have an early Christmas surprise for you.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Your dad is coming. He arrives tomorrow.”

  “My dad?”

  “Yep. I sent him the ticket.”

  Griff picked her up and twirled her around. “That’s awesome, baby. I haven’t seen him for a year. Thank you.” He set her down.

  “You’re close?”

  “Always have been. He coached me, trained me, and encouraged my love for football. Went to every high school game. Gave me good advice. He’s always been my biggest fan.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “He’ll love you.” After a goodbye kiss, he was out the door, humming.

  * * * *

  Lauren paced. Griff had insisted on flying his father to the small airport forty minutes north of Monroe. She went to pick him up while Griff was going over plays with Coach Bass and working out.

  Finally, the flight was announced. She fluffed up her hair, refreshed her lipstick, and plastered a smile on her face.

  A tall, rangy man with steel gray hair walked through the doorway carrying a small duffel bag. He wore glasses and a well-trimmed, full mustache. Dressed in a sleeveless parka and a flannel shirt, Hank Montgomery was a good-looking man, by any standards, even at sixty. Broad shoulders, long legs, and narrow hips, like his son, allowed Lauren to identify him instantly.

  The resemblance between Griff and his father was unmistakable. Gave Lauren shivers to think how good Griff was going to look when he got older. Will I be around then?

  Hank approached her, his brows knit. “Miss Farraday?”

  “Lauren, please,” she said, extending her hand.

  He shook it firmly without crushing it. “Pleasure to meet you.” She saw his gaze travel over her body in the wink of an eye. “My boy always had good taste.”

  Lauren sensed color flooding into her cheeks. She didn’t know how much he knew about her relationship with Griff. “Thank you. The car’s this way.” She turned her back to him, hiding her embarrassment, as she headed for the parking lot.

  Hank settled into the front seat.

  Lauren put the car in gear and opened the conversation. “Did you play football, too, Mr. Montgomery?”

  “Hank, please. Yep. Quarterback, just like Griff.”

  “That’s how you knew how to train him?”

  “Yeah. But he was a natural. Took to it like a duck to water. Pretty soon, he didn’t want to do anything but play.”

  “How’d you get him into college?”

  “His mother, God rest her soul. She took him in hand. Sat with him while he did homework. Coached him on his weaker subjects. He’s smart. No doubt about that.”

  “Are you retired?”

  “I work part-time. I’m a carpenter. Do you work?”

  “I’m an interior decorator. Just finished a big house. Now, I’m waiting for my next assignment.”

  “Paint, wallpaper, and that stuff?”

  She laughed. “Yep. I try to make a comfortable, pretty home for people.”

  Griff was back by the time they arrived. He greeted his father with a big bear hug. He offered the older man a beer then sank down on the living room sofa to catch up. His dad quizzed him on the new contract, asking detailed questions.

  Lauren slipped into the kitchen to prepare roast duck, Czechoslovakian style, like her mother used to make. Listening to the cadence of the deep, male voices from the next room soothed her. She smiled as she peeled potatoes. By three o’clock, she was almost finished.

  Apple pie? Of course! She pulled out the flour canister.

  “I’m taking dad to the stadium. I’ll pick up an extra ticket for him for the game on Sunday.”

  “Don’t. Don can’t come. I’ll give your dad his.”

  “You don’t mind me running off with him, do you?”

  “Go ahead. I’ve got plenty to do.”

  “What about work? Will you be here?”

  “I forgot to tell you. I finished the house yesterday. I’m free until Annette gives me a new job.”

  “Fantastic. We’ll be back. When’s dinner?”

  “About six thirty.”

  “Got it.”

  Lauren dumped apples in a stainless steel bowl, grabbed the peeler, and headed to the living room. She put in a Christmas movie and began removing the apple skins as she watched. Her cell rang.

  “Hey, Marnie, how’re you doing?”

  “Getting bigger every day. Oops. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “No problem. I’m fine. I’m glad you’re doing well. Do you still go to lunch? I’ve got some free time now.”

  “Why not? Haven’t seen you in a while. Still with that gorgeous quarterback?”

  “Yep. Things are good. Better than good. We’re committed to each other.”

  “Committed? Like engaged?”

  “In a monogamous relationship.”

  “So, maybe marriage is next?”

  “Trying to take it one step at a time.”

  “Thought you didn’t want to get married?”

  “I don’t. Didn’t. I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it. Marriage. Pregnancy. Miscarriage. Ugh. I just want to be happy now and worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

  “The group would approve.”

  “I’ve learned from them. I’m leading exactly the kind of life I want right now. Your due date is almost here, right?”

  “End of January.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Huge.”

  The women arranged a date and time to meet for lunch before disconnecting. Lauren finished preparing the fruit. She put the pie together and slid it in the oven, right underneath the duck. Soon, the smell of cooking apples would blend with the aroma of roasting poultry.

  She poured a mug of coffee and padded to the living room again. A small tree stood in the corner with a couple of bags of ornaments and lights. After putting on Christmas music, she tackled the decorating, singing along.

  The tree was finished when the men returned. It didn’t have much, as Lauren had never had one of her own before.

  Griff tried to stifle a chuckle. “Charlie Brown would be proud,” he said.

  She swatted at his shoulder. “Thanks a lot.”
/>   “But dinner smells great.”

  “What are you making?” Hank asked, hanging his coat in the front hall closet.

  She hooked her arm through his and escorted him to the kitchen. “Roast duck. Wanna peek?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” The older man grinned.

  The food was delicious. Lauren ate quietly, listening to the men banter and exchange stories. Hank brought Griff up to date on all his old high school chums and people in the little town of Adams, Indiana. She saw the small town boy emerge from inside Griff. He had always displayed the sophisticated outlook of a wealthy man to her. But she was intrigued and charmed by his boyish humor and interest in his hometown.

  When the meal was finished, the men took over the clean-up. Lauren made a point of yawning and stretching and wishing them goodnight. She traipsed up to her room and shut the door. Lying in bed, her arms above her head, she wondered what Griff had been like as a child.

  A knock on the door drew her attention. She cracked it open. Griff pushed, and she let him in.

  “What the hell? What are you doing up here?” He asked.

  “Your dad is here. Right across the hall.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t think we should be sleeping together with him in the house.”

  Griff laughed. “You think he’s a prude? You think he doesn’t know? Of course, he knows. And he’s been single now for four years. He’s probably got a ton of women in and out of his bedroom.”

  “That’s none of my business. It’s just…”

  “You’re embarrassed. That’s it. You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s ridiculous. I have a game tomorrow. I’m not sleeping alone. You have a choice—either come down to my room, or I’m sleeping here…and making you scream so loud my old man’ll be jealous as hell.”

  “Griff!”

  “He knows me. He’d think it weird if we were in separate rooms.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing. It’s my business. And he wouldn’t ask.”

  “I don’t know.” She cast her gaze to the floor.

  Griff stepped up and took her in his embrace. “Come on, baby.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Never had to beg before.”