Going Deep Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Virna DePaul

  He still had his eyes closed and was catching his breath when she felt him curl up against her, skin all humid, warm, and cozy. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. Then, because he really wanted her to open up to him about whatever had been troubling her, he took a chance and said, “I’m just thinking how good things are and…and how good things tend to go away when you least expect it.”

  She sat up to get a better look at him as he spoke. “You mean like with your career in Chicago, don’t you? Because that’s perfectly normal since you’ll be playing against the Noise in a few weeks.”

  He nodded.

  His old teammates would be there. His old coach. Friends and family of Chicago players he’d come to be friendly with. But you know who else would be there too? He could almost hear his sister and Zoe’s voices talking him off the ledge—your new friends, your new family, your new teammates and coach, people who’d been good to him since he’d arrived.

  People he’d finally opened up to and connected with, something that had only happened after Zoe had pushed through his protective barriers and reminded him how damn good it felt to truly connect with and trust others.

  “I know it’s normal and I know I’ll be fine. I’m just happy, and I guess I haven’t been for a long time. I don’t want that to end.”

  “Gabe, life’s all about change. Some good, some not so good. But if you’re happy now, focus on that. Worrying is like praying for the things you don’t want. Don’t waste your energy.”

  He liked that—it fell right in line with what he believed about universal energy and law of attraction to begin with. He’d take it as a sign. He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Damn, you’re smart.”

  She giggled. “I’m smart. I’m sexy. And you know what else I am?”

  “What’s that, peach?”

  “I’m happy, too. You make me happy, Gabe.”

  He gave a low growl and pulled her into a deep kiss, one that lasted a long time.

  Chapter 16

  It was a few days before his game with Chicago, almost three months after he met Zoe, that it happened again.

  It was Zoe’s day off, and she’d said she was going to spend time at Iron Maiden, then meet some girlfriends for lunch before running some errands. They’d made plans to meet up for dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, but just as Gabe was getting into his car to head over there, he got a text from Zoe saying she wasn’t feeling well and would it be okay if they just stayed in.

  Gabe didn’t mind. He loved alone time with Zoe. But part of him knew that when Zoe came home, she would be subdued. Sad. And unwilling to discuss the reasons why. He just wasn't sure what to do about it.

  Should he push this time? Because he was damn sick and tired of her shutting him out when he’d opened himself entirely to her, even going so far as to tell her a couple of weeks ago how afraid he was that something was going to steal his happiness away. She’d talked him through that, and he wanted to be able to help her with whatever she was struggling with too.

  But when Zoe came home, she looked drained. Exhausted. And the last thing he wanted was to put more pressure on her. So he simply cooked her dinner and put off confronting her—again. They had time and he’d be patient, but not for much longer. Whatever was eating at Zoe like a slow poison? He was going to pull it out of her and soon.

  After dinner, Gabe told Zoe that he was going to run her a bath. He was in the bathroom, getting ready to do just that, when he felt her place a hand on his shoulder. He turned but before he could say anything Zoe kissed him.

  There was desperation in her kiss and he pulled away, not because he didn’t want her, never because of that, but because Zoe meant more to him than just sex. He wanted to talk to her about what she was feeling. What she needed. She didn't have to be strong all the time. Not with him, and he wanted her to know that. He loved that she was strong, that she could work out harder than most professional athletes he knew, that she liked it rough and raw in bed. But right now, sensing her emotions and her vulnerability, he wanted to treat her like a delicate flower for once, pressed petals between book pages that needed to be handled with care.

  Zoe wanted none of that. She clung to him, her mouth ravenous, her hands exploring his body in a frenzy of need. “I need you,” she said in between her kisses. “Please, Gabe. Please. Fuck me.”

  Just as always happened when Zoe begged for it, Gabe’s resolve shattered. He couldn’t refuse her. Trying to deny her when she needed him would be like trying to prevent molecules from interacting: impossible.

  He backed her into his bedroom and pushed her against the wall, nearly knocking over a picture frame. His hands cupped underneath her heart-shaped face as he tasted her lips and tongue. Whatever was troubling her, as well as his frustration that she wouldn’t share it with him, were temporarily forgotten.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed, where she sat up and started unbuttoning her pants. “Let me do that,” Gabe grunted.

  “Why?” she moaned.

  “Because you’re a goddamn gift and I want to unwrap you.”

  Quickly, he stripped her naked and took a moment to admire her.

  Her body was so fucking tight and sculpted. Her nipples blushed a soft rosy color, and Gabe cupped one breast, squeezed it softly then did the same to the other one. Zoe cupped her small hand over his big one and squeezed even harder, dropping her chin back to let out a soft moan. He squeezed her other breast harder too, eliciting even more groans from her.

  “You like it when I do that?” he asked, though he knew the answer. Zoe loved a rough touch. He just wanted to see her nod and gaze at him through foggy, glazed eyes. “What about this?” Carefully, he pinched both nipples softly and tugged while watching her reaction. Again, she bit her lip, and he watched her chest moving up and down.

  He drew her in tighter, pushing one of her tits into his mouth, licking at her nipple. As her heart pounded against his cheek, he sucked on her and ran his hand along the contour of her backside, the curve of her lower back, and the round plumpness of her ass.

  He turned her on her belly to admire her from behind. “Look at this ass. Fucking perfect,” he said, squeezing both ass cheeks together and watching them fall back into place.

  “Is this why you’ve dubbed me Georgia Peach?” She gave him a coy look over her shoulder.

  “You got it,” he said, burrowing his teeth into her flesh as if to take out a chunk but softly nibbling her instead. “You even taste like one.”

  She whimpered and turned around, offering him a view of her hand sliding down between her legs, instinctively trying to relieve the pressure, and opening her legs up to him. The warmth, the heat inviting him in, the musky scent of her pussy…it all felt like an overload of goodness, and Gabe felt compelled to thank someone—God, the universe, whoever out there was responsible for giving him this woman. From the way her manicured fingers spread open her folds, showing him her peachy-coral folds like the smooth walls of a conch shell, he knew what she wanted. And so he did what any man would and should do in the same situation when presented with the secrets of a goddess—he buried his face between her thighs and got to work.

  Zoe whimpered as Gabe’s sexy jawline pressed rough short stubbled beard against her skin. She felt his warm smooth tongue press softly against her clit, and she nearly lost it. Her response was to close her eyes, hoping that by not seeing Gabe pressing his nose into her pussy, she’d be able delay her orgasm by at least a few minutes.

  She needed this time with Gabe to last. Needed to be able to block out the real world—including the horrible visit she’d had with her dad earlier.

  Gabe started with slow licks. She moaned as electric impulses ran up her legs into her belly. She peeked down to see him with his eyes closed also, breathing in the scent of her. He brought one hand up to spread apart her lips so he could better access her clit and licked her harder. The same hand slipped down the center of her folds and swirled a
round the wetness beginning to drip down her inner thigh.

  “So fucking wet,” he groaned.

  Zoe couldn’t help but open her legs a little wider.

  “Aw, yes,” he murmured. “Give me that sweetness. Smother me. Come on, peaches.”

  His words sent her somewhere beyond, somewhere where rules didn’t exist, and people could say whatever they wanted without consequence, a place where sexy-as-fuck football players bent to her every whim without flinching, and she was in control—she was.

  Zoe bit her lip again and bore down on his face, sliding her hand into his thick hair and guiding his tongue back and forth along her clit. Rubbing her whole pussy against his face.

  “You love eating pussy?” she ventured to ask.

  “This pussy,” he responded without missing a beat. “Sweet and delicious.”

  Oh, God.

  Her muscles tightened and worked toward climax.

  “Open your mouth,” she commanded. “Show me that tongue.”

  He did so immediately, like there was nothing humiliating she could do to him that he wouldn’t absolutely love. With her knees bent, she ground her pussy against his face, slathering him with glaze. Gabe shook his face from side to side, getting good and sopping wet and covered with her juices, continuing the onslaught of his tongue against her clit.

  The orgasm came blindingly hard, and she cried out, still gripping his hair, locked in this knot with his hand holding onto her ass, the fingers of his other hand slipping into her to feel her contractions from the inside. His tongue still wide and flat, he gave her a few last soft licks to extend her orgasm as far as it would go, but she drew back and collapsed on the bed, trying to catch her breath as the last of the waves subsided.

  Gabe collapsed on the bed next to her, raging hard-on pushing through his pants. When she slid her hand over the bulge to help him take care of it, he gently took her hand and held it in his.

  “Give me a second and I’ll—” she began, but he shook his head and raised her hand to kiss it.

  “No. That was just for you, Zoe. Now I’m going to finish running your bath, and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

  She stared at him, blinking back tears. “But—”

  “Let me take care of you, damn it,” he said, his voice suddenly fierce. “You won’t talk to me about why you get sad sometimes, and I’m trying to give you space, Zoe, I really am. But I don't know how much longer I can give you that. So you need to figure it out—how to let me in completely. Because I’m there and I want you there, too.”

  She inhaled on a shaky breath then pressed her trembling lips together to keep from crying. It should be so easy to let the words out, to ask for his help, even if that just meant having him listen to her as she talked about her father and her fear of losing Iron Maiden, but something held her back. When she said nothing, he sighed, disappointment flickering in his eyes. He leaned up and kissed her softly so she could taste herself on his lips. Staring at her, he said, “Rest and I’ll come back for you, peach. Rest and know I always will.”

  Chapter 17

  The snap.

  “Go deep!”

  He got his instructions. Going deep was where Gabe’s money was. He was a speed receiver, known for running out as fast as possible after the snap and putting that space between himself and the defenders. He bolted out in a nearly straight line, rushing past the players in black and red, colors that used to be his.

  Not anymore, Murphy. Keep your colors straight.

  Gabe caught the ball effortlessly and earned the Bootleggers their first first down of the 3rd quarter while Dawson got treated on the sidelines after a hit that’d rendered him dizzy. The crowd cheered. Coach yelled his encouragement across the turf. They were up 10-3, but he would’ve liked a higher lead. Just to be safe. Just to prove he could back up Dawson and that nobody needed to worry about his shoulder.

  He’d never felt stronger. Together, he and Zoe had done a kickass job.

  The quarter went extremely well and several people he’d gotten to know here in Georgia showed up and took the time to connect with Gabe. Alec LeBrun’s wife Ruby, their son Daniel, and their daughter, Elliot, who was attending a game for the first time. Aiden’s mom, who’d come out to support the team even after having a difficult chemo session earlier this morning. Bruce, one of the Bootleggers assistant coaches, whose teen son had gotten into an accident and walked away with minor scratches. Just knowing they were all there fueled Gabe.

  Life was good.

  Yeah, the Noise was here, too. Yeah, he had mixed feelings about that, but overall, he thought he was doing a pretty good job of coping with it. The only moment he felt weird was when his tight end buddy from the Noise walked past him and instead of giving him a friendly high-five like his other former teammates, he simply sneered. “It’s over, Murphy. Give up already,” he’d said.

  Gabe had just laughed.

  It was a psychological trick, meant to fuck with him, but he wouldn’t allow it. He hadn’t come this far to let one asshole comment throw him off. Still, he would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t hurt for two seconds. Zoe, Murph, Alec’s kids, Coach, Mimi and Pop watching at home…these were the people who mattered.

  “Stay focused, Murphy,” Heath Dawson said during huddle. “Your mind’s wandering but you’ve got this.”

  “It’s hard for him, bro,” Bender said, eyeing Gabe through the face mask. “Would be on you, too, if you were going against your former teammates.”

  Gabe gave Bender a nod of thanks. He never thought he’d get this kind of full swing support from his new teammates but he’d underestimated the Bootleggers. He could do this.

  They got into formation, and the countdown began. But Dawson wasn’t completely wrong. Gabe was appreciating his life so deeply tonight that he felt a little unfocused, almost like he wasn’t really there. Like he was outside of his body watching himself play. Was it déja-vu? It doesn’t get any better than this, a thought randomly flitted through his mind. The stadium lights, the cheering from adoring fans, the announcer’s voice giving the calls, the surreal realization that he was playing for the blue team, not the black and red.

  How quickly life had changed in just a few months.

  Bootleggers, Savannah, Zoe, a new brotherhood… So many aspects he’d never imagined would be happening right now.

  The offensive coordinator sent in a play to the huddle calling Gabe’s number for a slant route. As a wide receiver, Gabe had always loved the slant route, but it did have one major drawback—it reminded him of how his injury had occurred last season. He’d had his eye on the ball, was cutting diagonally across the field with his blockers keeping him safe, when two cornerbacks ambushed them, coming out of Gabe’s peripheral and stopping the short play with simultaneous tackles that left Gabe in agony and penalty flags flying. He couldn’t piece together much after that, because the pain melted into stadium lights, and stadium lights melted into ambulance lights.

  But that was then and this was now.

  Focus.

  Slant route.

  Snap.

  Gabe took off, straight down the side then cornering to the right, cutting across the field, his cornerbacks in position, just like they’d scrimmaged a thousand times. The likelihood of the same injury happening again was incredibly slim. Lightning never struck the same place twice. But for a moment, his impulses gave into red and black—his memory lapsed for a split second. His footing fumbled, as he grappled with confusion.

  Blue and white, you idiot. Bootleggers, not Noise.

  Though he made the catch and continued running, the momentary brain fart threw him for a loop. He ran towards the end zone, determined to give the Bootleggers that bigger lead, but a Noise safety and a linebacker took hold of his torso on either side. No—fucking no. Gabe plowed forward. He wouldn’t let them take him. He refused. But defensive players were bigger than wide receivers any day, and eventually, they lugged him onto the ground, as more players than were nec
essary piled on top.

  His body was instantly crushed by nearly twelve hundred pounds of weight, and the stadium lights melded into stars.

  Chapter 18

  If Zoe’s heart could’ve stopped simply from fear, it would have, but she kept a positive affirmation going in her brain: It’s okay…he’s okay…nothing’s wrong… Even if Gabe ending up at the bottom of a pile-up or being carried away on a stretcher strongly suggested otherwise.

  She couldn’t remember the run down to the medic room with his sister, how long it took to get there, or which staircase they took. The details all became a blur. All she knew was that they’d made it, out of breath, to the door where a stout man with a white goatee stopped them.

  “Sorry, ladies. No access here,” he glowered.

  Maybe he thought they were journalists or Gabe Murphy fans. The man needed to know who they were so he could let them in. “No, please…you don’t understand,” Zoe gasped out. “I’m his…”

  What?

  What was she exactly? His girlfriend? Significant other?

  More like his trainer who fell in love with him.

  There. She finally admitted it to herself.

  If waking up every morning and smiling at the gorgeous man next to you, not being able to wait until you got back to the house you shared with him to jump into his arms, or feeling your heart explode with joy every time the two of you made love meant LOVE-LOVE, then yes, she loved Gabe Murphy.

  Wasn’t that the best reason of all to let her in?

  Helplessly, she turned to Murph, as her words failed her.

  “I’m Michelle Murphy, his sister and agent, and this is Gabe’s girlfriend and athletic trainer. Let us in, you big goon, or she’ll plow you down. Trust me, you don’t want to go up against this one.” Murph shoved a thumb at Zoe. She would’ve laughed if she wasn’t overcome with grief at the idea of something terrible happening to Gabe inside the room.