On the Line

by Lincoln, Liz

  They hung out for ten or fifteen minutes, then Seth excused himself to hit the restroom before heading back to the lounge. As often happened, he got snagged twice more by Dragons fans. One guy who was clearly drunk insisted on telling Seth exactly what the Dragons were doing wrong in their running game and how they could fix it. Seth had to assure the guy four times that he would pass on the information to Jaron Edmonds, the starting running back, and the coaches. Only after Seth pretended to text Jaron while the guy watched did he let Seth go back to his friends.

  Back in the lounge, Marcus had moved into Seth’s spot on the couch. The tight end had his body angled toward Carrie, his arm stretched along the back of the couch behind her.

  But it was her wide smile and shining eyes as she listened to Marcus that really felt like a punch in the gut to Seth. She was flirting with his teammate, a man he knew she found attractive. And Marcus had asked about her more than once since meeting her at the practice facility.

  Something an awful lot like jealousy burned in Seth’s chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation; he didn’t know what to do with it. His relationships were always casual, even if they agreed to be exclusive. He didn’t get jealous. But seeing Carrie and Marcus flirting had Seth wanting to grab her and kiss her, to mark her as his.

  Except she wasn’t.

  Maybe he needed to find a new nanny. His plan to simply get over his attraction to Carrie clearly wasn’t working.

  Trying not to show how grumpy he suddenly felt, Seth dropped onto the chair across from Carrie and Marcus. “Hey.”

  “Back so soon?” Carrie’s expression was hard to read as she glanced over at Seth. Was he flattering himself, or was her voice sharper than usual?

  He shrugged one shoulder. “They weren’t looking for a hookup. Just fans who wanted autographs.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Trask has to get you to talk to two women, and neither wants to get wit’ you?”

  “Both married.”

  Marcus cut his gaze to Carrie, then back to Seth. Christ, were they that transparent? When Seth did the same back to Marcus, glancing at Carrie, then back to the tight end, Marcus’s smile turned into a grin. His gaze seemed to be challenging Seth.

  “Dance with me.” Seth rounded the table to Carrie, took her hand, and tugged until she rose to her feet.

  Where had those words come from? He didn’t even particularly like dancing. But from their position in the VIP lounge, they could see the dance floor. Something about all those bodies pressed together, moving in a rhythmic mass, made him feel like he had to take Carrie and join them. Had to hold her against him and torture them both as they rubbed against each other.

  And he wanted her the hell away from Marcus. Which was asinine. But he didn’t want her hooking up with one of his teammates.

  Maybe he should take her home so they could have desperate, needy sex and get it out of their systems. Maybe they wouldn’t even make it to his bedroom; he could shove her jeans down and fuck her against the front door. Or toss her on the couch, throw her legs over his shoulders, and eat her delicious pussy until she came on his face.

  Shit. He had to stop these fantasies. It would be embarrassing as hell to blow his load in his pants in front of his teammates. But he was so turned on, it wouldn’t take much more than the brush of Carrie’s hand over the front of his pants.

  Still, maybe he was onto something. Maybe it was time they stopped fighting their attraction. Because it sure as hell wasn’t going away.

  Carrie tugged her hand away from him. “I don’t really dance.” Her gaze darted to Marcus, then back to Seth. “I have the rhythm of a cactus.”

  He took a breath to calm his irrational jealousy over her talking with Marcus. “I bet we can find a rhythm.”

  Shit. That was way more sexual than he’d intended.

  Marcus snorted; Seth shot him a glare over Carrie’s shoulder.

  Her cheeks pinked. She dragged her lower lip between her teeth.

  Seth swallowed a groan. He wanted to bite that lip.

  Maybe they should skip dancing and go home.

  But dammit, he liked being out with her. And it wasn’t like anything had changed. They still shouldn’t sleep together. Even if he was willing to risk it, he had no indication she’d changed her mind. They could still dance, though.

  He ran his hand down her back and leaned down to speak softly in her ear. “Bring Ivy. I bet she’s got moves.”

  Now her expression turned skeptical. “Her moves run more toward poison than hip gyration. But I guess we’ll see what she’s got.”

  Seth had no doubt that even if they were the two worst dancers in the place, he’d still get turned on by her. More than he already was.

  He was screwed.

  He laced their fingers together—a possessive show that felt better than it should—as he led her out of the lounge and to the floor. The crowd was dense and he used his large body to make a path. People tended to move for someone his size. She followed close behind him, hooking two fingers of her free hand into his belt loop.

  Something about that felt intimate in a nonsexual way. To his surprise, he liked it.

  He liked even more when he turned to pull her into his arms and she slid against him willingly, her curves pressing against him exactly like they were made to fit him. He let the pounding beat of the music guide him as he began to move.

  Before long, Carrie’s body moved in perfect synchronization with his. He no longer needed the music; his movement triggered her countermove, which had him moving, going in an endless circle.

  He couldn’t tell when one song ended and the next began but it didn’t matter. He bent his mouth to her ear to be heard over the music and said, “I’m not sure what you were talking about, darlin’, because your dancing feels perfect to me.”

  Her eyes smiled as much as her lips as she looked up at him. “You make it easy.”

  He pulled her tight against him. “Whereas you make it hard. Very, very hard.” Fuck. He should not have done that.

  Except the spark in her eyes as she stared up at him said she didn’t mind. And the way she moved her body against him said she might even like it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe from how near she was and how much he wanted her.

  Gripping her waist, he turned her so her back was to him. Maybe he’d have a little more control this way. He stepped back just enough to let a breath of air move between them.

  Except instantly he missed the touch of her body against his. Apparently so did she, as she backed into him, her back sliding against his chest, her feet slipping between his.

  Ah, fuck it. He pulled her even tighter against him and was rewarded with her ass rubbing against him. His hand slid from her hip to around her waist, holding her in place.

  Carrie turned her head to look at him, her hair brushing his chin and catching on his beard. Tangled up in him; that’s where he wanted her.

  He’d reached his limit. Again gripping her hip with one hand to spin her, he thrust his other hand into her hair and kissed her. Hot, hard, hungry, his lips claimed hers. He didn’t have to ask permission—her lips parted for him and his tongue slicked into her mouth. The contact seared him.

  Jesus, he wanted her. Wanted every bit of her, and he was done fighting it. Nothing else he’d tried made his hunger for her go away. Maybe it would complicate things. Maybe it would ruin their working relationship. But in that moment, he didn’t care.

  She tasted like wine and desire, and Seth never wanted to stop kissing her. Her arms wound around his chest, palms flat on his back, holding him as tightly as he held her. Her body molded against him, and he could feel every curve of her. He wanted to explore all of them, with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue, and finally with his naked skin sliding against hers.

  When his hands started to slide down over her ass, he stopped hims
elf and reluctantly drew his mouth from hers. But his hand remained in her hair, his forehead pressed to hers, as he slowly opened his eyes.

  Hers were still closed, and in the dim, pulsing light of the club, he could see her red, swollen lips. A fresh wave of desire rolled through him. He’d done that. He’d put that debauched look on her face.

  He needed her. Now.

  He looked deep into her eyes. “I think we need to go. Very, very soon.” She couldn’t mistake his intent, not with his throbbing cock pressed against her and his fingers digging into her hips to hold her against him. If they didn’t get out of there soon, there was a very real chance he was going to take her to a dark corner and fuck her against a wall.

  “I think you’re right.” Her hand covered his on her hip, fingers sliding between his, entwining them.

  Goddamn, there was too much sexual imagery in his head. “How about now?” He trailed a kiss down the slope of her neck. He couldn’t stop tasting her.

  “I think—” She broke off on a moan when he nipped at her collarbone.

  He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and breathed in deeply, taking a moment to gather his scattered brain before they hurried back to the VIP lounge, gathered their things, and said hasty goodbyes.

  He managed to get Carrie outside before he lost his latest battle with self-control. As soon as he handed his keys to the valet, she fell into his arms, tilting her head up in a silent request he couldn’t resist.

  Her mouth was somehow more delicious this time as he sucked hard on her tongue. She let out a squeak that had him pulling back with a smile.

  “You like that?” His whiskers were probably scratching up her face, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

  “Yes.” Her word was barely more than a breath, and he got a thrill that he turned her on that much. It was only fair, since he wasn’t sure he could safely drive home in his state of arousal.

  When his car arrived, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then helped her in. They didn’t talk as he drove toward his house. She took long, slow breaths, as if she were trying to control herself.

  Finally they reached his house and pulled into the garage. He turned to face her, and forced himself to ask the question nagging him the whole drive.

  “Are you positive you want to do this?”

  * * *

  —

  Yes. Hell yes. She wanted him to take her inside and strip her naked and screw her brains out. She wanted him to magically change things so she wasn’t his nanny and he wasn’t her boss.

  But what she wanted and what she should do were two very different things.

  She couldn’t look at him as she said, “I can’t afford to fuck up this job.”

  With those eight words, all the false calm she’d managed to build up on the drive home shattered. The desire came back, the lightheaded hunger, the driving need.

  Without a word, Seth got out and came around to her side of the car. His movements were stiff as he offered a hand to help her out. She accepted it, because she had to touch him. He made her feel so good. Amazing. Beyond amazing.

  She needed to know how good it could be between them. If it fucked up her job, they’d deal with that later. She would throw caution to the wind, consequences be damned, tomorrow was another day, and all those clichés. She wanted him too much to give up this one night.

  She didn’t let go of his hand as they walked to the door. When he started to pull away, she tightened her hold until he relaxed.

  She shoved open the door and stepped inside. Once they were in the living room, she faced him and grabbed his shirt, pulling him to her. “I can’t afford to fuck up this job,” she said again, “so we’ll have to figure out how to do this without fucking it up. But I need you,” she said. Then her lips met his and she kissed him with all the hunger she felt, the desire she’d been trying to hide for too long. Her arms went around his neck and her tongue slid along his lips until he opened to her.

  He groaned and hauled her against him, kissing her with as much fervor as she kissed him. Abruptly, he pulled away. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” It wasn’t smart, but his kisses were like a drug, her own personal blend. She couldn’t say no.

  He lifted her, guiding her legs around his waist. His mouth found hers as he started toward his bedroom.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, then one hand went to his ponytail. Too aroused to be gentle, she tugged at the band until it slid free. Once his hair was loose, she ran her fingers through it.

  As he walked, Seth held her with one hand squeezing her ass, sending sharp pleasure up her spine. His other hand slid up her back, caressing the bare skin above the top of her corset. She felt like she was on fire, in the best way. As if he were the oxygen feeding her.

  He tweaked open the hooks along the back of her corset, then the garment loosened and her breasts seemed to overflow from the cups. Amazing. She was sleeping with the only man alive who knew how to unhook a corset.

  “Impressive skills,” she murmured against his lips.

  Grinning, he pulled back. Slowly he bent over to lay her on his bed. “Darlin’, I got all kinds of impressive skills,” he said, laying his Texas accent on thick.

  With one hand, he gripped the back of his shirt and yanked it over his head. Tossing the shirt on the floor, he reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.

  The dim light cast shadows over him, highlighting each individual muscle of his sculpted torso. His flat pecs with a dusting of hair, his sculpted six-pack, and that sexy line at the bottom of his obliques, along his upper hip.

  Her mouth watered as her eyes traced that line. She wanted to taste him.

  “Hey, eyes up here. What am I, a piece of meat?”

  She couldn’t help laughing, not at his dumb joke but because she loved how easy it was between them. Had she ever laughed during sex? Maybe a few nervous titters her first time, back in twelfth grade. But never real humor that she felt deep inside.

  When she looked up to meet his eyes, they shone with humor and lust. In contrast to his words, his hands went to work on his belt, then his pants. A few more smooth, efficient movements and he was naked.

  She probably would have drooled at the sight if she weren’t swallowing repeatedly.

  Not wasting any time, he grabbed her ankle and pulled off her black heel. He paused, turning the shoe to the side. “I like these.” Then he tossed the shoe over his shoulder, plucked off the other one, and did the same.

  She laughed. “Yeah, I can see they’re very special to you.”

  He pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle, then started his way up her leg. “I like them.” He nipped at the apple of her calf through her jeans. “But I like this more.”

  He had her jeans around her ankles in seconds and without warning, he slid a finger under her panties. “I like this even more.” He circled her wet opening, sending electric sensation shooting out from her core. Her hips raised, seeking his touch.

  “Do you know how hot it is to know how much you want me?” His mouth found its way to her knee, then started along the inside of her thigh.

  Probably about as hot as every time he’d pressed his erection against her while they were dancing. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “I don’t think I have the patience to undress you.” Without further warning, he covered her with his mouth. Even through her now-drenched underwear, the sensation was intense. She arched into him, needing more. It was crazy that she could be this close to orgasm already, but the dancing had turned her on as much as any other foreplay, and the weeks of pent-up desire had only fed the need for release.

  “I knew you would taste amazing.” Seth’s hot breath burned her thighs, but it wasn’t direct enough. If he wouldn’t take care of things, she’d do it herself.

  She lifted her hips, rolling slightly away so she didn
’t hit him in the jaw, and slid her panties down her legs. A few kicks of her feet and they, along with her jeans, hit the floor.

  Then she shoved her fingers into his hair and pulled him back into position. “Come on, Iron Man. Stop screwing around. Make me come.” Who was she? She’d never talked to a lover like that. But he set something free inside her.

  Maybe that was why she couldn’t get over her attraction to him.

  With a grin, he touched his tongue to her and licked her from back to front. His eyes stayed on hers the entire time as the intensity inside her built. To say nothing of the intensity in the air, wrapping around them, holding them together in his bed, and shutting everything else out.

  He gave her clit a gentle kiss. “With pleasure, Ivy.”

  He sucked her. Hard.

  The sensation burst through her, white-hot and delicious. When he did it again, she flew so high, she could almost feel the orgasm, just beyond her fingertips. It was too soon, yet she needed it now.

  Her fingers dug into his scalp and she pulled him tighter to her. He licked her again, followed by another two hard sucks. He repeated the pattern until she was so close she could taste it.

  “Please,” she sobbed. She didn’t know if it was tears or sweat running down her cheeks and into her ears. All she knew was the pleasure Seth’s mouth brought her and the need it created inside her.

  “Please what?” he asked between sucks.

  She was too busy moaning to answer right away. But when he licked her yet again, she dug up the strength to say, “Please make me come.” She fisted her hands, twisting his hair and tugging hard enough to show she wasn’t messing around.

  She felt his chuckle against her pelvic bone an instant before two thick fingers slid inside her. He immediately curled one and massaged her in a way that made her see stars.

  He withdrew his fingers, then plunged them back in, all while circling her clit with his tongue and sucking hard. In an instant, she was lifting to him, shifting to find just the right angle so she could—