Homecoming King

by Jami Albright

“Dude, you’re big, fast, and a little crazy—the perfect middle linebacker.”

  He drops his head and chuckles. “Yeah, I am a little crazy.”

  “A little?” Cam laughs. “You’re a wild man.”

  A goofy smile splits Jared’s face. “Thanks.”

  I toss the ball from one hand to the other. “All right, here’s how it’s gonna go down. I’m quarterback for both teams, I’ll throw with my left arm, and unless you’re Tiger, you can’t touch me.”

  “Woooooo,” the three kids say together.

  Tiger sticks her tongue out at me, but I don’t miss the heat blazing behind her baby blues.

  “Okay then, let’s play some football.”

  Thirty-Eight

  Tiger

  I pull into the drive at Wayland Estate behind Cash. The pick-up football game the kids convinced him to play after dinner was called off due to bad weather. We’d only been playing for thirty minutes when a clap of thunder boomed and ended all the fun. Just as well—Cash had no business out there doing what he was doing. But it was fun to see him with the kids. It was like all of the heaviness he carries around fell away during that short game.

  He exits his car, and I don’t miss the covert glance he sends my way. That one look sends fire sizzling through my body like the fuse on a stick of dynamite. The blistering heat races through me and settles low in my belly. The taste of him lingers, honey warm and sweet on my lips. I’m already in deep, after only one kiss.

  The breath stutters in my chest when I realize that my physical reaction to him may have gone past the point of no return, and if I’m honest, so have my emotions. My heart’s danced around my feelings for this man since he stormed into Wayland Estate.

  I exit my car, and the blast of cool air hits my face, cooling my overheated skin. Another clap of thunder draws my attention heavenward. The clouds are big and expectant with rain like a mama ready to give birth. “Looks bad, huh?”

  He glances at the sky. “Yeah, we better get inside before we get drenched.”

  “I know.”

  He moves toward the house. Does he mean together or alone? I can’t tell. Damn my inexperienced self. I’m sure another woman would know just what to do in this situation. But I’m rooted to the spot in indecision.

  A boom of thunder shakes the world, followed closely by a jagged streak of lightning. The sky opens, and buckets of rain fall from the sky. He breaks into a jog.

  Panic begins in my toes and builds until it forces my feet to move and his name from my lips. “Cash.”

  He turns just in time to catch me, as I launch myself into his arms. A deluge falls around us, and he holds me so that my face is above his. My fingers burrow into his wet hair and I lay my lips on his. There’s not a moment’s hesitation. When his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, a primal and desperate groan rips from my chest. This kiss is hotter, wetter, and dirtier than our earlier kiss. There’s only one place a kiss like this is headed.

  We break apart and it physically hurts. The question of how much farther we’re both willing to go hangs between us. He searches my face through the rain. “Are you sure?”

  I want all of him. Every beautiful, complicated inch. “Yes.” My nails score his scalp, and I tighten my legs around his hips. As soon as my center meets where he’s hard as stone, nothing else matters. He takes my mouth in another possessing kiss. How have I lived this long without knowing this kind of passion? It’s like I’ve never kissed another man. Like he’s the first, and there will never be another. That thought should scare me, but in this moment with him I’m fearless.

  With my legs anchoring him, he takes my face in his hands. He worships my mouth with slow fevered licks, and I’m living all the fantasies that have haunted my dreams longer than they should have.

  The rain pounds down on us, thunder rolls low and deep like a Teddy Pendergrass song, and the lightning mimics what’s happening in every cell of my body.

  He begins marching us to the pool house, still holding me.

  “Your shoulder.”

  “Shut up.”

  “But—”

  “I said, shut up.” We enter the house, and he kicks the door closed behind us.

  He turns us until my back hits the wall. I nip at his lower lip. “Make me.”

  “I’d rather make you scream.” White teeth flash behind the lips that promise to devour every inch of me. He’s the Big Bad Wolf and I’m his willing prey. His velvety tongue licks from the base of my throat to my ear. “Would you like that, Tiger? Would you like me to make you scream?”

  Amber eyes glow in the dim light and the hunger there is bottomless. I want to dive in and never come up for air. I rest my head against the hard surface behind me, while he grinds against the spot that I’m convinced is made for him. I roll my head to the side, giving him better access to my throat. “Yes, yes, yes.” The words fall like a prayer from my lips as he worships my neck with the single-minded focus that marks me as his whether he knows it or not.

  His mouth connects with mine and seals this deal with a possessive kiss that’s more explosive than the lightning flashing through the windows. A psychedelic shower of sparks flare behind my closed lids when he dances his tongue across mine. The kiss is world destroying, and I’m so lost that I don’t realize that he’s moved us away from the wall.

  He makes his way to the kitchen island. “Are these important?”

  I glance over my shoulder and see a stack of mail, a metal napkin holder, a couple of empty plastic cups and a set of headphones. “No.”

  “Good.” He sweeps his arm over the island, sending the random items flying, then sets me on the edge of the granite. “I’m going to need room to work.”

  I laugh. “There’s a perfectly good bed through there.” I point to the bedroom.

  His lips find mine again, and his big football player hand cups my breast. “Next time. I can’t wait that long.”

  I lean back on my elbows. “Alright then, stud. Show me whatcha got.”

  “Oh, I will.” He takes my hand and sits me up. His lips go to my neck while his hands slide under my shirt. A bonfire of passion follows in the wake of his touch. My head spins, and I try to keep up, but sensation is coming at me from every direction. His teeth and tongue are at my throat, doing things that I never knew possible. Warm calloused hands glide up my torso, taking my shirt with them, and the rhythmic grinding against my most sensitive spot causes mini explosions to fire throughout my body.

  “Raise your arms, Tiger.”

  I obey and he gently slips my top over my head and tosses it aside. His breathing is as erratic as mine. He steps back, and that big hand of his wipes over his mouth as he studies me in my baby blue lacy bra. “Good lord, Tiger. You are a sight.”

  With the way he’s looking at me, I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. Not even a little. I’ve proven I’m brave on my own, but he makes me fearless. I shake my hair off my shoulder and give him the sexiest look I know how to make. “Touch me.”

  He raises his finger and traces along the skin where the swell of my breasts meets the satin trim of my bra.

  Over, down, and over.

  Over, down, and over.

  Over, down, and over.

  His touch is hypnotic. I’m a snake, he’s the snake charmer, and I’m captured by the spell he’s weaving. The hitch of my pulse increases with every slide over my flesh. It’s possibly the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me, until he brings his other hand to my breast and begins to rub his thumb over the taut and sensitive tip through the lacy material. A moan slips from my throat and my head falls forward like a drunk on a three-day bender.

  “Tiger.”

  I peer at him through the hair that’s fallen over my eyes. “Hmmm?”

  “Lift your butt.”

  I rest my hands on his shoulders for support and do as I’m told. I follow his movements while he slides my leggings and my underwear down my legs. He slips my shoes off with my pants and lets the bundle fall to
the floor.

  I’m more exposed than I’ve ever been, and still it’s not enough. It won’t be enough until I’ve given him everything and taken all he has to give.

  His mouth is back at my throat, and his hand goes around my back. With a flick of his fingers he unclasps my bra. The straps loosen and fall from my shoulders. He follows the descent of the cups with his hot, wet mouth.

  I cry out when he sucks my nipple deep into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue matches what he’s doing with his thumb on the other breast. Desire pools low in my belly and throbs between my legs. “Cash.” I cling to him, and his skin is an inferno under my fingers.

  “Mmmm, you taste as good as I always thought you would.” He places his big hand to the middle of my chest and gently pushes me down until my back is on the granite. His mouth forges a path down my stomach. He makes slow, lazy work of it, like I’m not about to combust on this kitchen island. He licks my navel, then kisses a line from one hip bone to the other. But as unhurried as he is, there’s no doubting where he’s headed. “I’ve dreamed of tasting you here for a long time.”

  I’ve lost the ability to say more than his name. I reach down and slide my fingers into his hair and pull him to me. The first lick of his tongue is a jolt of raw electricity. The second sends me to a place I never knew existed. A place where life happens in technicolor and where every touch burns me to ash. Where Cash’s mouth and tongue leave me writhing and senseless until pleasure breaks inside of me, and I forget how to breathe.

  “Cash.” I grip the sides of the island and hold on while wave after wave rolls through me. He stays with me until the last bit of bliss is wrung from my body.

  Then he moves up my lifeless form until his hands are on either side of my head, and his face is above mine. Long fingers sweep my hair from my sweaty forehead. “You good?”

  My expression is probably cartoonish, but I’ve lost the ability to care. “Soooo good.”

  The cocksure hitch of his lips would be annoying on any other man, but not on him. He’s earned the right to wear that grin.

  I tug at his shirt and try to wrestle it up his body. “Get rid of this.”

  He reaches over his head and pulls it off by the neck, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Come here.” I reach for him, and we both gasp when his naked skin meets mine. The drugging kiss does nothing for my mental capacity. He tastes of mint and me with a trace of happiness. I lick and savor the flavors until he pulls away. “Don’t go.”

  “Not going anywhere.” He reaches into his back pocket, takes a condom from his wallet, then tosses it on the island next to me. His fingers flip the button on his jeans. The tinny zing of the zipper sliding fills the room. I rise up on my elbows again. I do not want to miss this.

  He toes off his shoes, then lowers his pants and underwear. For several long seconds, he just stands there like the god he is.

  I didn’t know it was possible to be more turned on than I already am, but I’ve never seen anything like this magnificent man standing before me. My palms tingle to touch the expanse of golden skin stretched over the chiseled muscles of his chest. I lean forward and rub my hand over the bumpy contours of his abs and down the happy trail that leads to the reason for my exploration.

  Strong fingers catch my wrist before I reach my goal. “Not this time, darlin’. I don’t know if I’ll last if you touch me.” A quick rip of the foil and he slowly and steadily deals with protection.

  “Wow.” I can’t help the worshipful tenor of my voice.

  His lips lift into the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen. “Ya think? Because someone once compared my junk to her pinkie finger.”

  I reach for him, and he comes willingly. “I think you should teach that crazy woman a lesson.”

  He lowers over me and his lips hover just above mine. “I can do that.”

  I’m holding him, and try to tell him with my lips, mouth, and tongue all the things I can’t say out loud. Feelings that are too big and scary for both of us.

  His slides his tongue to my earlobe, then whispers, “Are you ready for me, Tiger?”

  “About twelve years past ready, quarterback.”

  “Me too.” He pulls me to the very end of the island, and in one swift move he’s inside me. It’s a move that would be impossible if he wasn’t so tall. The muscles in his neck bulge as he holds himself still inside me. “Tiger … I … You.” He drops his head to my chest and the warm, harsh puffs of his breath blow against my skin.

  The raw vulnerability in his voice destroys me, and I lose a little more of myself to this man. My fingers slip over the sweat-damp skin of his neck as I hold him to me. I’m full of him, our bodies are plastered together, but I want more of him. I want all of him. To cover these world-altering realizations, I ask, “So you’ve dreamed of me?”

  He raises his head, and the smirk that pulls at his mouth is full of all kinds of trouble. Cash King is back. “Oh, yeah.” One thrust, then another. “And when this is over, you’ll be dreaming of me too.”

  “You’re awful cocky—ahhhh …”

  Dark brows arch over those ridiculous eyes. “You were saying?”

  “Just shut up and keep doing that swivel thing with your hips.”

  After that we put our mouths to better use, and harder, faster, more is communicated with groans, gasps and deep moans. The sounds are desperate and dirty, and nothing in my life can compare to this.

  Nothing.

  “Tiger, I’m close.”

  My head spins and my body spirals because I’m so close again too. “Let go.”

  He thrusts a few more times and then lets go. It triggers another orgasm from me, which has never happened before. We hold each other as we fall apart, and when it’s over, I can’t let go. I’m afraid I may never be able to let go.

  He rubs his stubbled cheek against my face and picks me up again. “You said something about a bed.”

  “Yes, I have one of those.” I’m Cash-drunk and I’m having a hard time not slurring my words.

  He eases out of me. “I need to deal with the condom, then I’ll meet you there.”

  I point to the other door in my little house. “The bathroom is right there.”

  “Got it.” He kisses me like we’re just beginning to make love instead of just finishing, then he makes his way to the john.

  My eyes eat up the sight of his flexing muscles and bare backside as he moves like a cat through my living room.

  Once he disappears into the bathroom, I slip from the island and have to steady myself. My legs need a little more time to recover from two orgasms. Two.

  I tried not to compare Brad to Cash while we were having sex because there really is no comparison. I also didn’t want to bring my ex-husband into what was happening between me and Cash. Now that it’s over, the catalog of differences is glaring, but I still don’t want to think about Brad, so I retrieve my phone from my bag and fire off a text to Maggie.

  Can’t vandalize tonight.

  I got a better offer.

  Talk tomorrow.

  Then I shut off my phone. For some reason I don’t want to answer questions about this yet. Just in case it turns out to be a dream.

  Thirty-Nine

  Cash

  “Come on, King. Where’s your head today?” Duke fires across the weight room.

  I’ll tell you where my head is, it’s still in Tiger’s bed. I don’t want to sweat off the feel of her that is still all over me. I’ve had many sexual encounters, but the last three nights with her haven’t been encounters, but life-altering events. And I don’t care if that makes me a sissy for saying so.

  “My mind’s somewhere else this morning.” I’m not sharing what’s happening between me and Tiger. I’m not ready to take it out of its protective cocoon and show it to the world yet.

  “Well, get it back on the task at hand.” His hands rest on his hips. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but McKay went seventeen for twenty-three and passed for over thr
ee hundred yards. Baby boy’s hit his stride and is coming for your job.”

  Oh, I’m aware, and it makes my balls shrivel to think about it. The kid is good, that’s why they drafted him as the backup in the first place. “Yeah, I heard that.” Like I just casually turned on the radio and caught the game stats, and not like I was glued to the TV watching Monday night’s game against the Ravens.

  “You know you have your evaluation with the team doctors on Monday. If you’re going to get your position back, then what we do here matters. It matters a lot.”

  I squirt water from my sports bottle into my mouth. “I know. You’re right. Let’s get back to it. Another circuit?”

  Duke holds his fist out to me, and I bump it with my own. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  I push all thoughts of the beauty queen from my brain and fill it with football, just like it’s supposed to be. I’m crazy about Tiger, but nothing and nobody is going to derail my career. If I didn’t let an abusive alcoholic of a father throw me off course, then neither will this woman, no matter how obsessed I am with her.

  Duke’s phone rings, and he checks the screen. “Shit. I’ve got to take this.”

  I adjust the weights on the leg press. “No problem, man. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  He leaves the room, and I begin the weight circuit again. My mind wanders to the drills I’m going to run with the after-school kids. I chuckle when I think of Jared. The kid’s obsessed, kind of like I was when I was his age, and every age after that. I want to tell him that life isn’t just about football, but how can I when that’s all it’s ever been about for me?

  Which reminds me that my mom said she’d stop by to see the house later this afternoon. At this point we’re just going through the motions—I know she’s never moving to Wayland Estate. But I do want her to see all the great work Tiger and her team have done.

  My tormentor stomps back into the room, mad as I’ve ever seen him.

  “What happened?”