by Hamel, B. B.
“Harder than you.”
“Don’t stay out too late.”
“What do you care? I have my own place.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re still my daughter, damn it.”
“I know.” I smile at him and get up from the little table I was using as my desk. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night, kiddo.”
I head out of his office and into the dark hallway. It’s late, past time when most guys have gone home. The janitorial staff is cleaning down the place, even though everything is brand spanking new.
I never expected to be here. I figured I’d work with Dad for a while, maybe go through another few school programs, maybe one day end up at an actual NFL team. I never expected to graduate college then end up in the big show already.
It’s almost overwhelming. I know Dad cares about this more than anything else in the world. It’s just the two of us, ever since Mom died when I was just a kid from cancer. I’ve always been with him and we’ve always had football.
And now we’re at the pinnacle of it all.
I turn a corner and hear something up ahead. I frown a little bit. The facility really should be empty, but there’s a light on in a room up ahead.
I walk down to it, a little curious. I hear that sound again.
Grunting.
I frown and step up to the door. It’s the weights gym and as I look inside…
River is standing in front of the mirror doing bicep curls without his shirt on. His body is perfectly sculpted, there’s no other way of saying it. He’s ripped and lean and proportioned like every man should be.
He’s not looking at himself like most guys would. Instead, he’s looking at the weight like he wants to beat it to death.
“Fuck,” he says, letting out a breath and leaning over. He puts the weight down and leans on his knees.
I step into the room, unable to help myself. “Bicep curls really take a lot out of you, huh?”
He looks up at me, anger flashing in his eyes. But as soon as he meets my gaze, his anger dissipates.
“Shit,” he says. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” I lean against the doorjamb and cross my arms. He stands up and smiles at me. I can’t help but notice the way the sweat rolls down his body…
Oh, god, I have to stop. I know the rules.
“Trying to make a good impression,” he says, cocking his head. “Based on the way you’re staring, I think it’s working.”
I blush and look away but I know I shouldn’t. “I’m not staring.”
“No, you weren’t. But now I know you were thinking about it.” He laughs and I glare at him.
“Seriously, you shouldn’t be working out on your own.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. Always have. They never give me enough.”
“You’re not supposed to overwork, you know that, right?”
“I’m not overworking.”
“You look like you were—”
“Trust me, I’m not.” He smirks a little and picks up the weight. He walks it over to the rack and puts it back. “Anyway, why are you here? You’re the coach’s daughter, right?”
“Right,” I say. “Although I don’t know why that matters.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, it matters. Means I’m not supposed to hit on you.”
“You probably shouldn’t no matter who I am, especially if I work for the team.”
“True. Never stopped me before.”
I blush a little bit. “Well, you’re not doing that sort of thing here. We’re starting fresh, you know.”
“Trust me, I know.” His eyes go distant for a second then he smiles again. “So how about giving me a spot, huh?”
I shake my head. “No way.”
“Come on. I know you want to get a better, closer look at me.”
“No thanks. I’ve seen the tape. That’s all I need.”
He barks a laugh. “So you’re a real coach, huh?”
“I was raised in it.”
“Your dad teach you the ropes?”
“Pretty much.”
“Huh. So I should kiss up to you?”
“Maybe.” I give him a little smile. “You’re mostly here because I want you to be.”
I don’t know why I say it. I should just keep my fat mouth shut.
His eyes flash something I can’t read though. “Is that so?”
“I mean—”
“You don’t have to explain. I’m not surprised your dad doesn’t want me and I’m not sure I care. But you want me. That’s… interesting.”
This conversation is getting out of control and fast. “Dad wants you on the field. He just doesn’t know if he can trust you off it.”
River looks away. Is that a little bit of shame I’m seeing?
That’s not the River King I expected.
“Yeah, well,” he says softly. “I’m only here to be on the field.”
“So we can expect you to behave?”
His grin comes back as he meets my eyes.
“With you? I don’t think so.”
That’s the River I expected.
“Better learn,” I say, turning away.
“Sure you don’t want to spot me?” he calls out. “I wouldn’t mind if you took your shirt off, too.”
I flip him off as I leave the room. His laugh follows me out into the hallway.
I can’t help but shiver as I walk. I keep seeing his body, slightly sweaty and perfect from lifting weights. And the way he looked at me, like he was hungry for something and I was on the menu…
River King is trouble. He’s exactly why I have this rule. I’d better stay far away from him.
But as I keep walking, I’m already thinking up excuses, reasons to see him. And I know, deep down, that I’m not going to be able to stay away, not at all.
3
River
Practice is boring. It’s the same thing, just a new stadium. Two weeks pass after that night I ran into Nicole in the weight room. Two weeks to think about the way she was looking at me…
Two weeks to imagine ripping her clothes off and tasting her sweet, tight body.
“Come on,” Chet says to me as we wrap up for the day. “Some of the guys are going out. You gotta join.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Come on, man. You’re River King. You gotta come out.”
I laugh a little bit. “I know who I am.”
“You know what I mean. The guys all want to see what it’s like to hang out with you. We all know the stories.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Look, I don’t care about that shit, okay? Just come hang out. It’ll be good for morale.”
I sigh and finally give in.
This is how it starts. This is how it always starts.
I promise I’ll be good. I join a new team, try my best.
Then the guys want to go out. Okay, I think, I can go. It’ll be good for morale. Team bonding. That shit.
And then I drink… the partying starts… the fun starts. Things get out of control.
But not this time. I won’t let it happen.
Chet, a couple offensive linemen, two wide receivers, some special teams guys, and our big burly running back all cram into this absurd rented limo. They’re drinking, having fun, and I’m trying to enjoy myself.
But I keep seeing the pattern in my head and I keep thinking about what Nicole Davis said to me that night.
They want me to be decent off the field.
We hit the club. The guys get drinks, girls join the party. Some of them are even flirting with me.
“You look bored,” Chet shouts over the music. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I shout back. “Just keep thinking about something someone said to me.”
“Real specific.”
“I know.” I laugh and slap his back. “Look man, I’m out.”
“It’s barely seven o’clock,” he sa
ys, shaking his head.
“I’ll see you fellas tomorrow.”
As I leave the club and get a cab back to the facility, I reflect that I don’t think I’ve ever, in my entire life, left a party early.
New start, though. That’s the important thing.
The cab drops me off outside and I use my credentials to get in. The place is empty as I head into the weight room. I do some reps, get in some extra work, then grab a bag of balls and head out onto the field.
I figure I’ll throw a few, get my arm nice and loose for tomorrow. Can’t hurt to get extra reps in, and anyway, what else am I gonna do? Better this than head back out to the club.
So I find myself on the practice field. Fortunately, the lights are still on.
I dump my bag, bend over, and pick up a ball. I toss it, not too far, then grab another and try to hit the first one.
Takes me two tries. I keep throwing, aiming for that first one, until they’re all gone. Then I walk, gather them up, throw the first one a bit further, and repeat.
“Looks like fun.”
The voice startles me. I look over at the sidelines and of course, there she is.
Nicole smiles and cocks her head. “Scared you?” she asks.
I shrug and grin. “Nah. I just figured I’d see you here sooner or later.”
“Oh, yeah? Have you been staying late just hoping you’d run into me?”
“Exactly.” I throw one of the balls to her, figuring she’d drop it.
But she catches it easily. She flips it in her hands thoughtfully then throws it back.
I catch it.
“Not bad,” I say.
“For a girl?”
“For anyone. Most guys can’t throw a football worth shit.”
“Good for me then.”
I laugh and toss it back to her. She catches it and throws it back.
“Working late again?” I ask her.
“Something like that. You?”
“Figured it’s better here than out at the club.”
She frowns a little. “That doesn’t sound like the River I know.”
“You don’t know me at all,” I answer.
She laughs. “Okay, that’s fair.”
I throw the ball to her harder. She catches it with a vicious little smile.
“Think you’re tough?” I ask her. “Playing with the big boys?”
She grins and tucks the ball like a pro would. “You’re just a quarterback. Bet I could outrun you no problem.”
And then she darts toward the end zone.
I laugh and run after her. No fucking way am I going to let her score. But she is pretty fast, I have to admit.
I work hard. Ten yards, five yard, three. We’re close to the end zone when I finally catch up to her. I grab her around the middle and lift her up off her feet. She laughs gleefully and I turn, falling onto my back and skidding, but I don’t let her hit the ground.
“Ooof,” I say. “Shit.”
“You okay?”
She’s on top of me, looking down. I blink up at her, at her blonde hair spilling down around us, the lights of the practice field on behind her, making it look like a halo.
“Fine,” I say. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No.”
She doesn’t move, still on top of me.
I sit up on one elbow. She moves back slightly, biting her lip.
Fucking hell, she’s beautiful. And warm. And close.
And completely off limits.
I reach out and put my hand on her cheek. She bites her lip harder.
“You’re against the rules, you know,” she says softly.
“The rules?”
“My rules. Well, one rule. No football players.”
I smirk a little, feel my heart race. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
“Not this one.”
I sit up all the way. She’s in my lap now, straddling me. She doesn’t move. Her cheeks are flushed, bright red.
I lean closer. She cocks her head slightly.
“You can always run away,” I whisper.
“But you’ll catch me.”
“I know.”
So I kiss her.
And god, she kisses me back.
Her tongue, her taste, her lips flood my body. I put my hands on her hips and her arms wrap around my neck. We kiss long and deep on the practice field, exposed for anyone to see, but I’m not thinking about that.
I’m only thinking about her warm body against mine. I can feel her breasts against my chest, her hips under my hands. Her perky ass is tight and gorgeous and god damn, do I want to squeeze her body.
She kisses like she was born to kiss me. And her taste locks into my lips like candy.
Slowly we break apart. She’s breathing deep.
“Shit,” she says.
And quickly pulls away.
“Hold on.”
She gets up and backs up. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Wait. It’s okay.”
She turns away. “You’re a player. You’re my player.”
“You’re not my coach.”
She looks back and glares at me. “You don’t know anything. You’re just—”
“Just, what?”
“Just a player. I can’t do this.”
“Nicole—”
But she’s already walking away. I take a step toward her but her walk turns into a jog.
And I know I can’t follow.
Fucking hell. My heart’s racing in my chest and my cock is half hard. I can’t believe that kiss, how good it felt.
I’ve kissed plenty of women in my time. Sometimes, I’ve kissed more than one in a night. More than one in the same moment. Shit, more than two.
But I’ve never felt that before. Never, ever, have I felt anything like that.
From fucking Nicole Davis, the coach’s daughter.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself.
Fuck her rule. Fuck all of that.
I have to taste her again.
4
Nicole
All my rules, out the window.
Well, my one rule, but it’s important. It’s everything. It’s kept me safe all these years around these football guys, made sure I didn’t do anything stupid.
Until River, of course.
For one whole week, I manage to avoid him like the plague. Dad doesn’t notice anything, of course, he’s too busy prepping for the first preseason game. That’s coming up soon, in only four short weeks.
I have no clue how we’re going to go from a ragtag bunch of players into a cohesive unit, but I guess we’re about to find out.
So I keep my head down. At practice, I stay away from the quarterbacks. When Dad drifts over there, I suddenly find something else to do. And I try not to let myself work too late, although sometimes I can’t help that.
One whole week. I manage one whole week.
Of course, I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. The way he tackled me to the ground but didn’t actually let me get hurt. The way he grabbed me, kissed me, took me. It was rough and playful and just about the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever experienced. Now I get why I should stay far away from football guys.
But River isn’t just some football player. He’s a lot more than that.
He’s gorgeous and charming and…
Bad news. Really bad news.
“You look tired.”
I glance up from my little makeshift desk. Dad’s staring at me over the playbook, eyeglasses down his nose, hair ruffled into a mess.
“Thanks,” I say and sigh, rubbing my eyes. It’s late again but I couldn’t tear myself away.
“We’re all working hard, you know,” he says.
“Is that your subtle way of telling me to go home?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that,” he says with a smile. “I know better than to tell my own daughter to go home and get some rest.”
“Of course you do. Since it never ends well.”
“Wh
at I’m saying is, I’m going to head home myself.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.” He puts the playbook down and stands up. He stretches and groans. “My damn back is killing me. And plus, I can do this on the couch as easily as I can at this desk.”
I sigh. “Of course.”
“Go home, kid.” He grabs his jacket, his keys, his wallet, and the playbook before heading over and kissing me on the cheek. “Get some rest. We’ve got work tomorrow.”
“We’ve always got work,” I grumble.
He laughs and waves as he heads out.
I stifle a yawn as I lean back in my chair. I’m at the facility late again, even though I keep telling myself I won’t stick around. I know River is here late every single night, working out harder than he’s supposed to, but he doesn’t care. Dad knows about it and he doesn’t say a word.
I asked him why a couple days ago and he just shrugged. “The boy wants to win. We’ve got that in common,” was all he said.
Cryptic asshole.
He’s right, though. I could use a rest. I rub my eyes a little and a good idea suddenly hits me.
I’m sitting in a state-of-the-art practice facility filled to the brim with some of the best sports medicine stuff in the world… and I never put it to good use.
I grin a little bit and stand. River’s always working with the weights so he won’t bother me.
And I know just the thing to help me relax.
I head out into the hall and whistle as I walk. The locker room is empty as I grab a towel and undress. There’s a light on ahead but I think that light’s always on, and besides, I’m too pleased with myself to think too much about it. I get down to my bra and panties, too modest to take it all off even though I’m alone, and head over toward the sauna.
I make it into the hall just outside the door when I come to a halt. The light is on… and there’s definitely somebody inside. I’m halfway turning around to head back into the locker room when I hear the door open.
I swear, I nearly scream, but I choke it back and look over my shoulder just as River himself steps out.
He blinks, surprised, and nearly drops his towel.
And he’s clearly very, very naked underneath.
I stare at his body, mouth hanging open. He’s beaded with sweat and barely holding a towel over his junk. His body’s covered in tattoos and muscles, ripped and sculpted to perfection. If he looks good with clothes on, the man looks absolutely stunning in nothing but a tiny white towel.