Ask For It (3 page)

“If you're lying to me—”

So much for trying the sweet-talking Southern route.

JJ nixed the smile, put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Just ring up my shoes please. Then I'll be out of your hair.”

He searched her face. She saw his hands close at his sides, flex, and close again. How many times had she fantasized about those same hands and what they could do to her body? How much pleasure they could bring, teasing her nipples, fingering her until she was begging him to let her come…

She glanced up at his face again. What was he wrestling with?

And if he didn’t trust her, why was he staring at her lips the way a man dying of thirst stared at a glass of water?

Then in a lightning fast move that had made him a legend on the field, he wrapped his big hands around her waist and hauled her against him. Her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his upper abs and their thighs collided.

Gasping, her hands settled against his chest. The man was built. And ridiculously warm.

Staring up to meet his gaze she licked her lips. If he was hoping to startle a confession out of her, he’d be waiting a hell of a long time. But if he wanted to hear her beg…

He stared right back. The voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to kiss him. Finally find out what all the fuss was about and verify that he’d been worth every naughty fantasy she’d ever had about him.

As if the invisible force holding them apart snapped, she stretched up and he bent down, their lips meeting in the middle.

Her eyes drifted shut and her breath stalled in her throat. His kiss was hot, firm, rough. Yep, everything she'd always fantasized about. And like him, bigger and bolder than her ordinary ho-hum life. She thrust a hand through his hair, needing to be closer. His tongue speared between her lips and everything feminine inside her melted.
She
melted. Against him, into him, beneath his hot hands that seared through the thin fabric of her blouse.

Oh God
. He felt so good. Getting lost in his kiss felt so good. So right.

As if suddenly realizing how much time they’d wasted over the years, his big hands moved to the buttons on her blouse, fumbling to get them out of the holes. She couldn’t be sure but she thought he was trembling.

That brought out her bolder side. The idea that this man, the man who'd run eighty yards to score the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl, could be unsteady, that there'd be any vulnerability in him whatsoever was awe inspiring.

JJ dropped her purse to the ground and then sucked on his tongue. His hands stopped their course as he groaned. But he quickly returned to the job, freeing her from her silken prison. After tugging the shirt out of her skirt he splayed his fingers around her waist again, making her feel small and feminine. Then, almost reverently, he slid his hands north and cupped her breasts, testing their weight, tracing the scalloped trim with his fingertips.

Her knees knocked together as he pinched the stiffened peaks. “Oh...” She gasped for breath, feeling a little light headed.

Trevor seemed to know instinctively what she needed and how very wet he was making her. He turned and her back met a metal shelving unit. She winced at the pain between her shoulder blades but didn’t stop trailing her fingers through his hair.

With his big body holding her there, locked in place, his thumbs continued to torment her nipples with slow circles and steady pressure.

When his lips moved down her jaw, chill bumps coursed over her skin like wildfire. She shivered against him, clutching him to her. He licked the hollow of her throat and she let out an honest-to-God whimper. Gracious, what was he doing to her?

“You taste like sugar,” he murmured against her skin. “You know what my favorite carnival food is?”

His lips nibbled their way back up to her ear. Oh my—

“Funnel cake?”

“Cotton candy. A mix of the pink and the blue.”

“Sounds sweet. Ahh...” He bit her earlobe gently, tugging just hard enough to bring another flood of moisture between her thighs. At this rate her panties would be soaked before he even got them off her.

“You taste sweeter than you look.”

“Gee thanks.” She slid her hands down the solid wall of his chest, relishing each wonderful muscle. After all this time, she was finally able to touch him.

“Have you seen yourself lately?” he whispered. “As much as I hate to admit it, I know a thing or two about women's lingerie.”

JJ's temper spiked. “I'll just bet you do.” She pushed him away but he barely moved.

“Seriously.” He leaned back just far enough to stare down at her breasts. “Black lingerie. Scalloped edges. I can almost see through the cups, beautiful. A sweet woman does not wear underwear like this.”

She raised an eyebrow at his assessment. Did that make her a bad girl? She supposed there was a case for that considering her current circumstances.

“It makes me wonder...” He trailed a finger down the valley between her breasts. “…if you're wearing matching panties.”

The look in his eyes was pure mischief. She forgot all about her temper as a sultry smile curved her lips. If she was going to be bad...she might as well go all the way.

CHAPTER THREE

“Well...you could wonder,” she told him, walking her fingers down to the button of his jeans. She wet her lips again. It took all her courage to force the naughty words between her lips and finish the sentence. “Or, you could see for yourself.”

He groaned and dipped his head, kissing her again. The evidence of his desire lay thick and snug between them. Hot and heavy, he took and she gave. Her hands tugged his T-shirt, freeing it from his jeans and then she shoved her hands beneath. His skin was softer than she’d imagined and hot. Mercy, so hot. She soaked up his warmth, memorizing the feel of all those rock solid muscles rippling beneath her fingertips.

Suddenly he was pulling back, stepping away from her. When his hands dropped from her waist she fell forward a step.

Then she heard it. Someone rang the bell on the counter. Trevor sucked in a ragged breath that spoke to just how carried away they’d gotten. His blue eyes positively blazed with passion.

“I'll—”

She nodded.

“Take care of business,” she told him. Then her gaze dropped to his crotch. The tight fitting denim didn’t hide his current condition. Not one little bit.

She couldn’t help but grin. She’d done that to him. The knowledge sent a jolt of pleasure through her. It was good to have a little power over the man because she found him absolutely magnetic. Deciding to see if she could tease him just a little more, she licked her lips one more time.

He groaned again and jerked open the button of his jeans. His fingers moved to his fly and her pulse spiked.

“Don't get too excited,” he muttered, obviously irritated at the interruption. Then, with jerky movements, he repositioned himself and righted his jeans. The shirt barely hid the bulge. Her smile turned to a smirk. His warning came too late; she was thoroughly excited.

JJ turned away, afraid that in her current state she'd throw herself into his arms and demand he take her right here and now, other customers be damned. He had a job to do. She mentally repeated the mantra three more times for good measure, taking a deep breath.

“I'll be back in a minute.” He leaned in so close that his breath tickled the back of her neck. “And when I come back, I’m going to give you a taste of your own medicine, you teasing little temptress.”

Holy moly; that was one hot visual. Six feet, four inches of prime male with a raging, and by the look of it, very large, hard on. Teasing and tempting
her
.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him grab a box from the shelf and hold it in front of his crotch.

A moment later she heard his deep voice as he spoke with the customer. One minute turned to two. Then three. She walked to the end of the storage room, hands on her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Kissing him like that?

True, he'd made the first move. But she'd kissed him, just like he'd kissed her. Full on, tongue-on-tongue action. Hell, she'd been waiting to do that with him for years. Since the first moment she'd seen him across the locker room. Since the first interview question. Since she'd seen him standing behind the counter of this shoe store.

No, there was no lack of desire on her part.

But here? Now? In the back of his cousin's shoe store? When he was on the clock and she was in town for her own job?

Maybe they could meet up later. For dinner. Yes. Dinner sounded good. Sensible.

But then, was anything about this...no, this wasn't a relationship. She'd spent all of a few hours with this man in her entire life if you added it all up. That wasn't a relationship. Those blissful few hours barely qualified as an acquaintance. No, she'd call it what it was. An affair. A brief affair. A rendezvous.

Whatever she called it, there was nothing sensible about it. Not remotely. Her mother would be horrified. She could hear her voice now.

“Making out with some man in the back of a shoe store? Really Julia. I raised you better than that. You're not in high school.”

No. She certainly wasn't in high school. They didn't make men like Trevor Wyatt in high school. It took college and then years on the pro football field to create a man as heavenly as Trevor Wyatt.

And that was the crux of the problem. He ignited a fire within her that no man ever had. It blazed hot. Fast. Burned like an inferno. One which she had no chance of extinguishing.

Rolling her shoulders, she tried - and failed - to relax. Who was she kidding? The only thing that would relax her at this point was one heck of an orgasm.

She took another deep breath, let it out through the mouth and leaned against the table. When he came back, she’d suggest dinner. Dinner...and then he could come back to her hotel. Was that sleazy? Based on the way he'd grilled her earlier, she seriously doubted he'd want her coming back to his place.

Thinking of his earlier interrogation irked her all over again. She wasn't on the job right this minute and it bugged her that he didn’t take her at her word. On the other hand, if he didn’t recognize her, how could he know? Why would he trust her?

And just what made him think that he was worth a story after all this time? He’d made it very clear that he was done with football, his private life was private and he wasn’t answering any questions. Just what had happened during that accident?

Her nerve endings spoke up then. He's definitely worth a story, they sang in unison. A full page, cover story in Playgirl magazine. With centerfold!

Trevor flipped the sign hanging in the window to ‘closed’ and flipped the lock. He couldn't handle any more interruptions. He'd lusted after Julia Fairchild since the moment he laid eyes on her five years ago.

At the time, she'd been a junior reporter, working the locker room with poise and grace that belied her years or position. Every straight guy in the joint had hit on her. And when they weren't hitting on her they were checking out her assets. Trevor was guilty of that himself.

He'd asked her out all those years ago and she'd turned him down flat. Even now, the disappointment pricked him. Why hadn't she said yes? By the way she'd combusted in his arms moments ago, it was obvious that she was attracted to him. Hadn't she been attracted to him back then?

Or was this all part of a scam? An attempt to get the scoop on why he’d left the field? The thought burned his gut like acid.

He stalked back into the storage room and found her leaning against the table at the far wall. She'd rebuttoned her shirt. Was she leaving? That was probably for the best, but damn if disappointment didn’t stab him again.

“Sorry that took so long.” Story or no story, he realized as he saw the look of uncertainty fade from her eyes, he wanted her… Wrapped around him like chocolate on a strawberry.

She smiled at him then, the come-hither smile of a woman who was happy…and horny. His disappointment dissolved as he stepped toe to toe with her. She stared up at him for a long moment and he saw the war inside her. What were the options she was weighing? He hoped whatever they were the outcome would be in his favor.

She reached for him, fisting her hand in the front of his T-shirt, pulling his head down for another kiss that sent all his blood rushing back to his cock. Damn, that was hot. Normally, take charge, aggressive women were a turnoff, but she was a perfect mixture of dominant and submissive.

Her breathy little moans drove him crazy. Did she know how those little sounds affected him? How he’d lay awake weeks from now hearing them in his mind?

He ground himself against her, showing her what words couldn't.

“Trevor...” she whispered against his lips but got lost in the kiss.

He grinned, liking that he could distract her so easily. She was a woman of words. But right now, he wanted her actions. Her lips beneath his, opening for him. Accepting him. He wanted her breasts, flushed, full, with hard little nipples, stabbing his hands.

She jerked his shirt up and slipped her hands beneath. He shuddered at the feel of her cool fingertips skimming over his skin.

He fumbled with the top button on her blouse.

“Why'd you go and do that?” he murmured, ducking to kiss the thumping pulse point in her throat.

“What?” Her voice was husky.

He searched for the words but failed to find them. “This,” he said, indicating the buttons he had to undo again. He was tempted to give the deep teal colored shirt a good yank and send the damn things flying.

Instead he cupped her breasts, wishing he could will the fabric away so that nothing separated them.

“Sorry.”

“I'll just have to unwrap you again.” He kissed her neck again.

“Mmm.” She hooked her thumbs under the hem of his shirt and shoved it up to his chest. He shrugged out of it and tossed it over his shoulder. After looking his fill, he leaned into her again, but she put up a hand, holding him off.

“What?”

Her gaze dropped to his chest, then his abs, and back up to his shoulders. It was obvious by the heat in her gaze and the curve of her lips that she liked what she saw. A lot.