Quarterback Draw

by Jaci Burton

  And, oh, God, a pool.

  She turned to him, grasping his arm. "You have a pool."

  "Yeah."

  "Can we go see it?"

  "Don't you want to see the rest of the house first?"

  "No."

  With a quirk of his lips, he nodded. "Okay. Let's go out back and see the pool. There are two entrances out back. One through the living room, which is actually a side yard. There's another way, down the stairs and through the laundry slash mudroom."

  He took her down the stairs and, dear God, this room was as big as the entire main living area in her apartment. It was a laundry room, but also a prep area for the pool. The floor was tiled, and there were open cupboards holding beach towels and a vast array of pool paraphernalia, with a laundry prep area as well.

  "Wow."

  "It was a big selling point for me. People can come in here and use the bathroom, and it doesn't muck up the rest of the house. Plus lots of storage for the pool stuff."

  "It's amazing."

  "Thanks. I agree."

  They went out the door and it led onto a huge covered patio. He had a few tables and chairs, but there was potential for so much more.

  The pool, however, was magnificent, surrounded by smooth rocks, with a waterfall and a slide. There was an attached hot tub as well, which was simply gorgeous.

  The pool was huge and inviting. The yard surrounding and beyond was lush and green with mature trees farther back in a wooded area. She wanted to strip and dive into the pool, then spend the remainder of the day there.

  "I forgot to mention the pool so you could bring your suit. We'll do that tomorrow."

  She wanted to tell him she wasn't coming over tomorrow, but after seeing this pool, how could she not? It was entirely too tempting. Like the man who lived here.

  "It's really lovely out here. I imagine you spend your entire summer in the pool."

  "Yeah, it's pretty great. I enjoy it a lot. But you have a pool at your apartment, don't you?"

  "It's an indoor pool. Not even close to being the same thing. This is outside, where it's warm. And just steps from your house. It's so private." Whereas she had to share their pool with everyone in the building. No privacy. No sunshine. No fresh air.

  If she lived in a house--and really, what must that be like--she'd be out here first thing every morning with her coffee, watching the birds and the butterflies and listening to the sounds of nature, then swimming a few laps before breakfast.

  "You could take a dip now if you want to."

  He had moved behind her, and laid his hands on her shoulders. The warmth of them seared through her.

  She tilted her head back to look up at him. "No suit, remember?"

  "Oh, I remember. But I have a lot of privacy. No one will see you. Except me, of course. And it's not like I'd complain."

  The thought appealed, especially since she'd want to swim with him.

  Naked. Which caused her to entertain visuals of the two of them entwined in the water, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands sweeping over her body.

  Her nipples tightened, her sex becoming all too aware of her needs.

  And that was dangerous territory. Light and easy, remember? Not naked and passionate. That would only lead to trouble.

  She shook her head. "Not gonna happen. Let's go see the rest of your house."

  Upstairs were four bedrooms, all well decorated, as well as the master, which was huge and had a great deck overlooking the yard and pool. She could well imagine waking up in the morning and spending more leisure time out there, or having a last glass of wine before bed talking over the day with--

  Well, it wasn't like that was going to happen anyway, so no point fantasizing about it.

  "You have a lovely home, Grant," she said as he led her back down the stairs toward the kitchen.

  "Thanks. Would you like something to drink? I have tea, soda, water, wine, and beer. Or I can make a mixed drink."

  "Aren't you just a regular bartender?" She went for a glass of white wine, and he told her to select from his wine fridge. She picked a chardonnay and he opened the bottle and poured her a glass, then pulled a beer from the refrigerator for himself. They headed outside and sat on the deck overlooking the pool.

  It was hot, yet there was a breeze. She didn't care. It was beautiful out here and that pool still tempted her. So did his suggestion to swim in it.

  "How did the shoot go today?"

  She liked that he was interested enough to ask.

  "It was good. We shot at the Jewel Box."

  "Great place for a wedding shoot. It's beautiful there."

  "So you know it."

  "Sure. I've been there a few times."

  She took a sip of her wine, leaned back and studied him. "Been married a few times?"

  He laughed. "No, but I've been in a few friends' weddings and photos were taken there. Pictures turned out pretty good. I imagine yours will be better."

  "I don't know about better. Just different, since these are bridal gown shots for a magazine, as opposed to wedding photos. Though they are bringing in some other models tomorrow to do actual wedding party photo shots. Those should be fun."

  "Ah, so tomorrow you get a groom, huh?" He took a long swallow of his beer and arched a brow. "Some hot stud that will perfectly complement the gorgeous bride?"

  She laughed. "Something like that. I have no idea who it is. Likely someone I've worked with before."

  "And maybe dated before?"

  She wrinkled her nose. "God, no. I don't date models."

  "Why not?"

  "Well, for one thing, and as I mentioned before, I don't date. And the other is that there's too much potential for conflict. Models tend to weave in and out of each others' lives all the time. If you have a relationship with one and it ends badly, then you have to do a shoot with them, that animosity is going to be reflected in your work."

  She shrugged. "It just makes it harder to do our jobs, and our jobs are difficult enough as it is. The last thing I need is to be half-naked, sweating, and body to body with someone I can't stand."

  "I agree. That's why I don't date any of my offensive linemen. I need them to protect me on the field, and if I broke one of their hearts, they might just let the defense knock me on my ass a few times for payback."

  Katrina laughed. "Yes, I'd steer clear of them if I were you."

  "I do. Besides, wide receivers are more my type."

  She snorted, then pushed her empty wineglass away. "I think one glass will be enough for me."

  He picked up the glass. "Oh, no. You need another. We're just getting started."

  Grant went inside and refilled Katrina's glass, then grabbed another beer. He was enjoying seeing her unwind--even laugh. He wanted her relaxed.

  And in his pool tonight.

  He'd have to figure out how he could get her there.

  He brought out the drinks and laid them on the table, then pulled up the chair next to her. There was a slight breeze blowing the tips of her hair across her bare shoulders. He wanted to press his lips to her skin, to start there, then explore her neck, her collarbone, and work his way down her back. He remembered from their photo shoot just how soft her skin was, and he wanted to put his hands on her again. He wanted to kiss her, get her naked, and slide inside of her.

  He was getting hard, so it was probably time to stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do with her.

  Or maybe it was time to step up the game, and see if she wanted to play.

  "Are you hungry?" he asked.

  She was taking a sip of wine, so she swallowed then set the glass down. "Not at the moment. I'm enjoying the wine, the view, and being outside."

  "Okay. You let me know."

  "I'll do that."

  That's when the idea came to him. "Let's go sit closer to the pool."

  "Sure."

  He picked up her glass and his beer, and she followed him to the pool's edge. Since he had on board shorts, he kicked off his shoes,
then laid their drinks down. He held her hand while she slipped out of her sandals and sat. He grabbed a spot next to her, handed her drink to her, and dipped his legs in the water.

  "The water feels so good," she said as she took another drink of wine.

  "It does, doesn't it?" It was a perfect night. Hot, a slight breeze, the kind of night that made you want to--

  Then Katrina shocked the shit out of him by untying her sundress and lifting it over her head. She wore matching navy blue and white polka-dotted cotton bra and bikini underwear.

  She turned to him and smiled. "You knew I wouldn't be able to resist, didn't you?"

  "I was kind of hoping."

  She slid into the water feetfirst, letting it swallow her up. When she came up, her hair was wet. She hadn't worn makeup, but then again, she didn't need to. She swept her hair away from her face and looked up at him. Water glistened off the curves of her breasts, a hard gust of wind sweeping through and causing her nipples to harden against the cotton of her now-soaked bra.

  He'd never seen anything sexier.

  "Coming?" she asked.

  He damn near had.

  FOURTEEN

  KATRINA HAD NO IDEA WHAT POSSESSED HER TO strip off her sundress and dive into the pool in her underwear.

  Inability to resist the lure of the water, she supposed. She'd always loved to swim and had wanted a pool of her own for as long as she could remember.

  An outdoor pool all to herself, not the indoor pool like she had at her apartment. And now she stood in this amazingly cool water with the sun beating down on her and no one else was around.

  Except Grant, who drew his shirt off, giving her only a brief glance of his very attractive, tanned torso before he slid into the water and disappeared under it. He came up, shaking his head back and forth, and sprayed her with droplets, making her laugh.

  It wasn't like he hadn't seen her near naked, anyway. A lot of men had seen her near naked. She wasn't shy about her body. At least as far as her job, anyway.

  Grant reached for her, but she pushed off the side of the pool and swam to the other end, not realizing until she got there that he'd been right on her the entire time.

  Since they were at the deep end, she pulled her arms up to the edge of the pool.

  "You're a fast swimmer," she said. "Want to do some laps?"

  "Not particularly, but I'll be happy to watch you do them."

  She shook her head, smiled at him, then pushed off the side. She swam, dipping her head in the water and enjoying the movement of her body through the pool. It was so freeing, feeling weightless in the water. She could have done this for hours, but it was selfish of her to use Grant's pool this way, so she finally came up for air.

  Grant was leaning against the side of the shallow end, his elbows resting on the tile. He was watching her, his gaze so intense it was overwhelming, and also more than a little exciting.

  She didn't want to be excited. She wanted to be not in the least interested in him. The problem was, she was interested. A lot interested. She found him extremely hot and utterly charming. Two lethal combinations.

  She needed to distract herself with something else. Like this great pool.

  She looked around at the woods surrounding the yard. All this privacy. The peace it afforded. "If I had a pool like this--outside--I'd swim every morning."

  "It's a little cold in the winter."

  She laughed, and swam over to him. "Okay, every morning, weather permitting. Besides, it's heated, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. I can usually swim well into late October."

  "Perfect. And with the attached hot tub, you have year-round opportunities to enjoy it."

  "This is true. Though those mad dashes from the hot tub back to the house in January can be an adventure."

  "Oh, but the amazing feeling of being surrounded by all that heat when it's so cold outside? I once did a photo shoot in Iceland, and took a hot tub outside. It was breathtaking."

  "Yeah, and the frigid cold shrinks your balls to the size of peas."

  She laughed. "Well, I wouldn't know about that part. But cold is good for your skin."

  "Whatever you say. I'm not a fan."

  "Baby."

  He shot her a glare. "Hey. I'm a tough guy. I can play three hours of football in New England or Green Bay--in January. You try that."

  She rolled her eyes at him. "Please. Try posing in nothing but a skimpy bikini for six hours on a boat in Nova Scotia with below-zero windchills. And then you have to give the camera hot, smoldering looks while you're covered in goose bumps and your lips are turning blue, but you can't shiver because the photographer will get pissed and you know damn well if you screw up the shot he'll make you stand out there an hour longer just to make you suffer. And he doesn't give a shit because he's all wrapped up in warm winter gear."

  He stared at her. "Okay, you win."

  "Damn straight I win."

  "That really happened?"

  "Of course it happened. People think modeling is all glamour shots and beaches, when it's anything but that. Sure, we get to do some great location shoots like the one in Barbados, but for every one like that there are five more in remote, uncomfortable locations. I do a lot of winter shoots because I work all year long."

  "You give a good insight into what it's like being a model. You work your ass off, but you're right--people think it's all glamour."

  She appreciated that he understood how hard she worked.

  He dipped down into the water, then came up and dragged his fingers through his hair.

  Could the man possibly look any sexier? Water dripped over his shoulders and torso, making her want to draw close to him and swipe her hands over him. Maybe rub against him a little.

  Good God, what was wrong with her? She saw sexy, wet men all the time on the job. Grant was nothing new.

  Except she wasn't at work, and every time she was around Grant she had some weird chemical response to him. Her nipples tightened, her feminine parts clenched, and all she could think about was sex.

  Maybe that wasn't so bad. She'd never thought about sex much. Wasn't it high time she did?

  No. It wasn't. She had way too much going on in her life to think about herself. But then Grant moved into her and swept her hair away from her face, and every part of her tingled with awareness. They were alone. The kids were back in New York, and she had free time tonight.

  She could have anything she wanted.

  She could have him.

  But if she did, it would change everything.

  Was she ready for this? Would she ever be ready for it?

  "Do you want to get out of the water now? I can make us some dinner." He slid his hand down her arm. Touching her came so easy to him. Why wasn't it easy for her?

  She was as confused as ever. She knew what she wanted, and it had nothing to do with dinner. All she had to do was reach for it--for him--and she knew she could have him. The way he looked at her, the desire she read in his eyes was so clear.

  Being with him was so simple. It should be simple, yet the difficulties it represented were monumental, at least to her. She felt frozen with indecision.

  Until Grant tipped her chin with his fingers, forcing her eyes to meet his.

  She read such certainty in his eyes. He knew exactly what he wanted as he dipped his head and paused, their lips only a fraction of an inch from each other.

  "Tell me what you want, Kat. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

  He hovered so close his breath sailed across her lips. She wished she had that level of confidence, wished she could just fall into this so easily, without her mind going off in a million directions and thinking of the consequences.

  Her nails dug into his arm and she tossed those consequences aside. "I want this. Kiss me."

  His lips met hers and she sank into the sweet sensation of his mouth moving over hers. She breathed him in and let her hands snake up his arms, enjoying the feel of a very tall, powerful man pulling her against h
is body.

  They stood in the water, torso to torso, her heart beating a crazy rhythm as her pulse rate flew out of control. Grant swept his hands down her back and she moaned as he deepened the kiss. When he cupped her butt, she knew right then that whatever he wanted, she wouldn't deny him.

  This was what she'd dreamed about for so long, what she'd held back from out of fear and a sense of responsibility. All these years it had been everyone else's needs taking a front seat. Now it was her turn and she wanted this.

  She really wanted this.

  She clutched his shoulders and allowed herself to really feel for the first time in her life, suddenly wishing they were out of the pool and naked so she could have what she so desperately needed.

  When Grant broke the kiss, she was left shaking and needy. But he only climbed out of the pool and in one swift move hauled her out, too.

  "Let's go inside."

  She looked down at herself, at her soaking wet underwear and dripping body. "I'm all wet, Grant."

  His lips tipped up into a wickedly sexy smile. "God, I hope so." He took her hand and led her to the side door, then shut it behind them.

  The air conditioning inside gave her an immediate chill and she shivered.

  "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

  It was all moving so fast. Not that she had a problem being naked, but this was different. It wasn't a photo shoot, and he wasn't a photographer. There wasn't staff around and in this, she wasn't modeling. They were a man and woman, about to become intimate together.

  She was in over her head, but she wasn't about to back down. Not when the endgame was something she wanted so much.

  She undid the clasp on her bra and pulled the straps down, letting the bra fall to the floor. Then she shimmied out of her panties and left them on the floor as well.

  Grant stared at her. "You are beautiful, Kat."

  He dropped his shorts and she took a moment to admire his chiseled body. Broad shoulders and chest, narrow waist and slim hips and a sizable erection that made her throat go dry.

  He grabbed an oversized towel and came over to her, wrapping it around her and himself, bringing their bodies in contact.

  "Better?" he asked.

  The contact was electrifying. She could stay like this forever, body to body with him. She tilted her head back to look at him. "Much."

  He rubbed her body with the towel, the motion causing a rush of warmth that did nothing to quell the desire running rampant through her. She was flushed with a heat that had a lot more to do with desire than the friction from the towel.