Blindsided: A Sports Romance (11 page)

A loud shriek pulls me to the window. At first, my heart pounds in case Sam is hurt. It’s been my biggest fear ever since he was old enough to play sports, or climb trees, or all of the other dangerous things he likes to do.

Instead of sprawling on the ground with a broken bone, though, my son looks like he’s having the time of his life. He’s standing in the middle of the garden, football in the air ready to throw as Jake sprints across the grass.

Living with Jake has been easier than I thought it would be. Well, in a sense. He’s been polite, considerate, respectful. He picks up dinner most evenings on the way back from practice. Every evening, he spends at least an hour outside with Jake working on his game. He leans against the kitchen bench and chats to me while I do the dishes.

It’s blissful.

And it’s torture.

I don’t know what happened between us, but it’s like he’s completely pulled away. That first night, I was sure something was going to happen between us. Not just that, I actively wanted it to, even after everything I said about being professional. And I thought he did too.

I wrap my arms around myself and watch them, racing around the spacious garden like they’ve known each other all of their lives.

I was worried about Sam when I came here, but maybe I should have been worried about myself. Because the more time I spend with Jake, the more I want him. And I can’t think of a good reason why we shouldn’t be together.

Okay, he lied. But now that I’ve spent time with him, I’ve been able to see the guy underneath the hard body and smart mouth. He sings to himself when he’s cooking six eggs omelets for breakfast. He makes mouthwatering chili. He talks himself down, yet he knows more than me about any subject you’d choose to quiz him on.

I told him he was arrogant, but now I see he isn’t. He’s just… honest. Which is funny, given how I thought he was a liar at the beginning. He’s a kickass football player. And he knows it. But he’s not arrogant about it. He doesn’t expect us to worship the ground he walks on because of it.

I lean my head against the cool window pane.

I can’t deny it any longer.

I’m crushing so hard on Jake Thorne that all thoughts of acting professionally have evaporated. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve got five and a half months left—I
need
to do this for the life-changing sum of money that will set Sam and me up for life. I
will
do it. But I have a feeling that my heart’s going to be a shattered little shell by the end of all this.

Just then, Jake turns and stares back up at the house. It seems like it happens in slow motion. His grin widens and he raises a huge hand to wave up at me. My stomach erupts with butterflies. My breath quickens. My core contracts with longing for a body that I’ve dreamed of every night since we met, but that I’ve yet to experience in real life.

I’m frozen. I tell myself to stop acting like a weirdo; to wave back. But I can’t. I’m stuck there, staring down at him like I’m watching a movie. He’s the most breathtakingly beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.

And at one point he wanted me.

***

“What’s up with you?” Jake asks, bounding into the kitchen and pushing back his dark hair.

I look up from the falafel I’m trying to mix. “Um, nothing.”

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost out there. What are you making?”

“Falafel,” I say, trying to remain calm as he hoists himself up on the countertop beside me. He’s still wearing his standard issue Grizzlies shorts. I have to force my eyes to focus elsewhere.

I can’t help but think that whoever designed those shorts knew exactly what they were doing. I’m so occupied by not looking at him that I don’t realize I’ve pulled the bowl so close to the edge. I jerk my hand and the whole thing drops to the floor.

“Damn it,” I hiss, crouching to clean it up at the exact same moment he jumps off the bench to help me.

We both seem to notice this at the same time. I tilt my head and find myself staring into his hazel eyes. They seem darker somehow. I shiver, wondering if that’s my imagination at work.

“You don’t like falafel, then?” he says, eyebrow quirking. The corners of his mouth twitch and I wonder if he knows just what kind of effect that rasping voice has on my body.

“I like it just fine. I was distracted, is all.”

His eyes widen a fraction and his gaze moves over me, scrutinizing every inch of me it seems.

“By?”

I exhale sharply. He’s not making this any easier. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. I haven’t felt this way since high school. I’ve tried to make myself feel that same sweet anticipation, but it has always seemed so false since then—real-life encounters so disappointing now that they’re no longer forbidden.

There’s nothing false about this.

“I think you know,” I whisper.

His eyes are a perfect storm of conflict. Who knows what he’s thinking—all I can tell is there’s a lot going on in there.

For once I don’t care. I can’t see past the prize anymore. I want him. I don’t care if it’s for tonight or this week. I can’t wait anymore.

“Where’s Sam?” It’s a struggle to spit the words out; my heart is hammering so hard in my chest.

He shrugs. “Said he wanted to work on his weak arm some more.”

“You get tired?” I tease.

Jake shakes his head and clamps two huge hands around my shoulders. I feel safe. Enclosed. I don’t know how he has the power to make me feel like this, he just does.

“Nope.”

“What then?”

He pulls me to my feet and I accidentally step on some of the mess.

“I should clean that,” I murmur, making no move to wriggle out of his grip.

He grabs a dishtowel from the countertop and throws it over the mess. “There. That should keep it safe for the time being.”

He takes my hand and pulls me in the direction of the guesthouse. I follow, spellbound. I’ve never been inside. Jake hangs out with us most nights, but I’ve never entered the smaller space of the guesthouse. His thumb caresses the web between my thumb and forefinger. That simple movement is like a drug: relaxing me; lulling me into a little tiny world where it’s just me and him.

He opens the door that separates his part of the mansion from mine and all my senses are heightened. Is that cologne I smell? A gift from an old girlfriend? Or something he buys for himself. I stare up at his messy hair. His eyes shine with an intensity that I’m sure is reflected in my own.

And then reality comes crashing down around us with the sound of a slamming door and a little voice that demands attention right away.

“What’s going on in here? What’s this stuff
on the floor?”

I pull my hand away.

The spell is broken.

Jake smiles ruefully and walks through to the guest house. I know it’s probably for the best, but I can’t help but feel disappointed.

Damn it, I’m late for practice and I forgot to grab my KT tape from the car last night. I don’t want the guys to see me put it on in the locker room—it’s not exactly a good omen that my left quad is niggling before the season’s even begun. I rush into the bathroom and grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist. It’s not a good idea to be late for practice. The cat-calls from the other players is one thing, but there’s also the fact that the coaching staff have the authority to fine us several thousand dollars if we don’t show up on time.

I don’t know how exactly I got into this position. People assume I’m rich beyond my wildest dreams, but the truth is I live on handouts from the club. Rose isn’t the only one who’ll benefit financially from this arrangement. If I don’t go along with it, I’ll never be able to build a future for myself.

I have nobody to blame but myself. It was stupid, really. I know nothing about finance, but I still should have known better. Maybe it was the fact that the adviser had gone to private school with one of my teammates that made me trust him. Plus he worked for a huge global company. He seemed like a hotshot. He told me all about the millionaires and billionaires he invested for.

He told me that only idiots let money sit in their checking account. Told me I should have my money working for me. By the time he said he’d be able to double it if not triple it, I was practically throwing him my credit cards.

That was dumb, as it turned out. I didn’t even realize there was anything wrong. I’d get these official-looking statements showing my balance. I barely looked at it—I’d see the little graphs in the top corner that showed me how much I’d gained on my investments. Now, I know it’s easy as shit to make that stuff up on a computer.

I only found out the truth one day when I got a call from the feds. They’d raided his office and found my details on a list of his clients. By that point, there was no money left to salvage. Not only was I left with nothing, but I’d also borrowed heavily—that hadn’t been a problem. I was a pro-football rookie, after all. The banks were only too willing to throw money at me, based on my future earnings.

I’m still paying it off, bit by bit. Some of the people I owed money to tried to bankrupt me, but the club stepped in. They worked out an agreement where my salary would go straight to them. I wouldn’t even see it. In return, they’d settle my debts; stave off the bankruptcy. They paid my legal fees out of pocket. I thought it was the team looking out for their own. Now I know they just wanted to keep the story out of the papers.

“Fuck,” I hiss into the mirror. Now is not the time to stand around thinking about the mistakes I’ve made in my life. If I did that, I’d need to stand here for hours.

I rush through the guesthouse and into the main house. It’s quiet. I assume Sam and Rose have left for the day. I dash through the living room toward the front door, focused only on making it to the facility on time. I’m so focused, in fact, that I don’t see Rose coming out of the kitchen. She doesn’t see me either, apparently, because I walk straight into her and send her crashing to the ground.

“Oh shit,” I gasp, bending down to help her up. “Are you okay?”

She nods slowly, clutching her head. “Yeah. I think. Least I wasn’t holding the coffee.”

“Rose?” I rub her head gently, looking for cuts or signs of bruising. “Does your head feel okay? You know what day it is?”

Her eyes flicker open. And widen.

“Rose. You’re freaking me out.”

She rolls her eyes. “How the hell do you want me to concentrate when you’re… that…” she gestures frantically and I glance down. My towel has gaped, giving her a bird’s eye view of my raging hard-on.

“Sorry,” I grin, standing up and tightening the towel. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She bursts out laughing. “Scare me? What the hell, Jake? You think you’re packing an anaconda?”

I can’t help but smirk. “No. I just… your modesty?”

“Thanks for that, Mr. Darcy.” She takes my hand and lets me pull her back to standing. “Very noble.”

“Who’s Mr. Darcy?”

She looks shocked. “You kidding me? Everyone’s heard of Mr. Darcy.”

I shrug. “I haven’t. So? I’m not Wikipedia.”

“But you studied English Lit. I don’t believe this. Okay. We’ll remedy this later.” She stops and blushes. “Do you have plans later?”

“No.”

“Movie night then.” She grins.

I rush out to grab the tape and hurry back to the guesthouse. I’m past caring about being fined now. They can just add it on to whatever I already owe. No big deal.

Rose is sitting on the couch typing on her ancient laptop when I walk past.

“You should get a new one now that you’ve got a pile of cash.”

She looks up at me like I’m speaking in a foreign language. “Huh?”

I point to the laptop. It looks heavy. Slow. “That. Looks ancient.”

She shrugs. “It still works.”

“But…”

Her eyes grow serious. “Look, I know I’m weird, okay. It’s just…” she closes her laptop. “I’m not used to having money. I’m afraid to spend it in case we wind up with nothing.”

I shake my head in disbelief as I head for the door. This woman is like the polar opposite of any woman I’ve ever met. “I could have done with you in my life years ago,” I say as I leave the house. And I mean that.

I rearrange the cushions on the couch for the tenth time. This is stupid. What was I thinking? Why would Jake want to watch Pride and Prejudice? I go to the kitchen and pull out a bag of microwave popcorn. Sam is with my mother. It’s crazy. I called her up and asked oh-so-innocently if she’d like to take him for the night. So much for honesty. My life is all kinds of gray at the moment.

I hear his key in the lock. I pop my head around the door. His hair is still wet from the showers. He’s grinning. Both hands are hidden behind his back.

“What are you up to?” I smile.

He looks just like a naughty kid. I catch the smell of his shower gel. It’s manly. Clean. I could breathe it in all day.

“I’ve got something for you.”

My mind goes straight there. How could it not? After coming face-to-face with that
juggernaut
earlier, it’s all I’ve been able to think of. Pride and Prejudice is just a distraction. Though the thought of Jake wearing a wet shirt… wow.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

My breath escapes in a wheeze. This man. Standing there in his t-shirt, his hair still damp and mussed up. He’s breathtaking.

I quirk my eyebrow and put my hands on my hips. “
Do
I want to, Jake?”

He laughs gleefully. “It’s not that. But it can be if you want it to be.”

I’m just about to fire something back at him when he pulls his hands around and holds out a white box.

“Aren’t you going to open it? I’ll give you your other gift later.”

I grin and walk forward, searching his eyes. “What is it, Jake?”

“Open it.”

I pull off the lid. Inside there’s a smaller box, also white. I recognize it immediately. “Oh my gosh.”

It’s the tiniest, slimmest laptop I’ve ever seen.

“Do you like it?”

I lift it carefully from the box. It’s almost as light as my phone. “Jake, you shouldn’t have. You didn’t need to do this. I—”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to, Rose. I want you to have nice things. And it’s not just a toy. If you’re going back to college, then you’re going to need something reliable for assignments and stuff.”

I grin like a big kid. I can’t remember the last time somebody got me a just-because gift and it feels good. I rush back to the kitchen to charge it. He’s right: if my college application is accepted, it’s going to be so much easier to do college work on a new machine like this than on my ancient laptop. And it’s small and sleek enough to take with me.

“Thank you, Jake,” I say, reaching my arms out to hug him. “This is so sweet of you.”

He wraps his arms around me and I melt into them, reluctant to ever leave them again. He’s so big. So strong.

“Come on,” he whispers, breathing into my hair. “Let’s watch that movie.”

I push against him, surprised at the disappointment that courses through me. “Um. We don’t have to. It’s just a dumb movie.”

He grins—like he’s read my mind. “But what else are we gonna do?”

I don’t know what comes over me. I stare up into his eyes, mesmerized by the light that’s dancing in them. “I can think of a thing or two.”

His pupils dilate. That’s all the warning I get before he reaches for me and pulls me to him again.

“Rose.” His expression is serious now. He’s not kidding around anymore.

I moan involuntarily as his fingertips trail the length of my arms. It’s softer than I would have expected his touch to be and it throws me. I don’t know how I’ve held back for so long. My arms shoot around his neck and pull him to me. I can’t wait any longer. I need this.

Jake laughs. “Is there somewhere you need to be?”

He strokes my lip gently and I swear it’s got a direct line straight to my core. I’m melting for him. How can he maintain control over himself when I’m barely able to keep from jumping on him?

But I’m up for the challenge. I force my eyes open from their heavy-lidded trance and face him down. “Nope.”

“Good.”

I pretend it doesn’t drive me crazy as his hand skims across my navel, instead of hitching up my skirt and giving me the relief I so desperately crave. Instead of screaming at him to hurry, I reach for the zip of his Grizzlies training hoodie. My fingers brush against the hard muscle underneath his thermal tee. I can’t help but linger there, rubbing his skin. He’s so sculpted. Beautiful.

I realize that we’ve been living together all this time and I haven’t seen him with his shirt off. Well, I have. But that was earlier today when he was wearing nothing except for a tiny towel that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a shady sauna. Let’s just say I wasn’t focusing on his chest then.

I shiver, remembering. It was damn hard to pretend that the sight of that giant cock didn’t make my eyes bug. He’s all I’ve been able to think about for weeks. And now he’s torturing me by making me wait.

I look into his hazel eyes. He’s brought out my competitive side. I won’t be the one who begs for this. I won’t.

I pull the zip down the whole way and slowly ease his hoodie off, taking the opportunity to touch his chest again while I do so. Taut muscle rises and falls under my fingertips. Now that the outer layer is off, his compression tee is like a second skin. I grin.

“What’s funny?” he growls.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.” He grips my upper arms and I stare up into his eyes. Holy shit. The sheer strength of him is like an aphrodisiac. I’m even more turned on than before. My body buzzes with need.

“You’re out of breath,” I whisper, daring him to lift me up and carry me to his bedroom. “Is someone a little over-excited?” I try to keep my expression as innocent as possible but I can’t help but smirk. This is so unlike me. I’m not the seductress or the vixen. I’m not even good at flirting. But it’s different with Jake. I know him. We have this fiery competitiveness between us that somehow lets me know how to push his buttons.

Just as I expected, he grips my arms tight and pulls me closer to him.

“And you’re not?” We’re so close that the vibrations of his deep voice reverberate through my own body.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m
aaaaall
good.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Really?”

Oh shit. I know that look. I was trying to push him into tearing off my clothes and taking me right here and now. But I haven’t done that. I never wanted this to be a contest to see who could abstain for the longest. I don’t think I can do that for much longer.

“No,” I mutter. I want this more than I want to score points against him.

He laughs. “Good answer, Rose. You’re under my skin too. Big time.”

He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him, feeling the hardness of him brush against me before he lifts me higher. That brief contact sets my body humming like never before.

“I’ve wanted to shower with you since the first time I saw you,” he growls as we mount the stairs.

“Oh yeah?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I told you. Remember? I told you I was going to have you.”

I swallow. Just thinking about that now makes it hard for me to breathe. He was so sure I wanted him.

“Rose?”

“Yeah?” My voice is high and strained as if I’ve just run a marathon.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’ll hear you moaning five blocks away.”

The muscles in my core start to spasm. I want him now. I don’t want to wait. I bury my hands in his hair and pull his face to me, burying it between my breasts. I don’t know what he does to me, but I’ve never reacted like this to anyone. It’s like I’m an animal. All I can think of is his hands on my body.

He nips at my bare skin, sending shockwaves through my body. A second later, he’s shifted his grip and unclasped my bra with a deftness I’ve never seen before.

“That’s pretty impressive,” I murmur, as he casts it behind us on the stairs.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m good with my hands.”

As if to prove his point, he yanks my dress down off my shoulder until the fabric rips and one of my nipples peeks out. It’s hard as a bullet. I’m not surprised—the tingling in my nipples is almost painful. I don’t just want his touch—I need it.

I wriggle in his grip as his fingers make contact with the swollen bullets. It’s not enough but it’s also more than I can stand. I’m ready for him now. I buck against him. I can’t stop myself.

He grins. “Dirty girl.” He dips his head to nuzzle my neck.

I gasp. Every nerve ending in my body is super-sensitized. “It’s your fault.”

“Oh I know,” he laughs. He’s got such a filthy laugh. I don’t know how I never noticed that before.

We reach the top of the stairs and he drops me. As soon as my feet touch the ground, he’s in my space, forcing me backward into the bathroom. I swallow.

He grins as he reaches behind me to unzip my dress.

I scoot forward and pull at the hem of his tight tee. I pull it over his head and stare in awe. He’s got one hell of a body. Everything about him is perfect. His defined pectorals are covered with a smattering of dark hair. His abs are a perfect a ripped eight-pack. I lean over and dart my tongue over his nipple. He shivers.

“You like that?”

He nods. The light glints in his eyes. “Yeah. But I’d prefer to play with yours.”

He rips off my dress in one movement and throws it in a heap in the corner.

I’m naked now except for my ridiculous lacy panties. I changed my underwear four or five times before he came back, unable to decide between fake nonchalance and preparedness. He whistles.

“Nice.”

“You think?” I jut my hip out and pose. Seriously it’s like some uber-confident nymph has possessed my body. But I know that’s not the reason. It’s him. He may be drop-dead gorgeous with a body straight out of Greek mythology, but I feel totally at ease with him.

“Come here,” he growls, reaching for me. “They’re nice but I prefer you in nothing at all.”

“Stop,” I squeal. “They’re the most expensive item of clothing I own.”

He lets go of them for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice then. Take them off now or I’ll have no choice but to tear them off you.”

I stare up into his eyes. My body is thrumming with lust now, so much so that I can barely think straight.

“EHHH-ERRR,” he says, mimicking a gameshow buzzer. “What, you think I have the patience to stand around and let you tease me?”

He reaches forward and tears the lace away from my body in one swift movement.

I lean down to take off his track pants but he’s too fast for me. He picks me up and barrels me into the shower, pausing only to turn on the water.

“Your pants. You—”

He dips his head and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, teasing it mercilessly with his tongue and rendering me speechless. When he does the same with the other one, I throw my head back and scream. Already I feel the sweet pressure and tension rise within me.

He pulls away for a moment to pull off his pants and I ease back under the torrent of water, watching him. He looks up at me as he steps out of his pants.

“Want to help?”

I nod. He’s wearing black boxer briefs and they do
absolutely nothing
to hide the mammoth hard-on underneath them. I realize just how mammoth it is as I follow the line of his legs to his navel and see that the head of his shaft peeks out from under the elastic.

He follows my gaze. “Yeah. It’s big.”

I snort. Usually I’d tease him for being cocky. But now’s not the time. Plus he is. Cocky. He’s packing about eight inches. I shrug, trying to hide the fact that I’m seriously impressed. And kind of intimidated. “It’s not the size of the prick. It’s what you can do with it.”

He takes a step closer. “I’m damn good at that too, Rose. Let me show you.”

I have no doubt that he is. He strides into the shower, forcing my legs apart with his and kissing me gently. It’s as if he knows that the strange combination of gentleness and brute force is the most arousing thing in the world to me.

I gasp as his cock brushes against my navel. I push myself against him as he grips my neck with both hands and kisses me gently.