Ask For It (8 page)

Atlanta

“Did you get a facial? You're all glowy,” Cindy said, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers in an imitation of rays of sunshine.

“I wish,” JJ murmured. It was her week to host the girls. And ordinarily she'd be excited to see them all especially since she’d missed their get-together last week, but lustful dreams hadn't provided much rest even when she had been able to stop thinking of Trevor and fall asleep.

She poured everyone a glass of wine, a new Riesling from Germany, and resisted the urge to glance at the clock on the microwave. What was a few hours catching up with friends? Nothing in the scheme of things. She loved her friends. Loved their time together just hanging out and catching up.

But since Trevor had left her bed every minute seemed to drag on like cold molasses.

There was a knock at the door. “That’ll be Greg. The knobs for my kitchen arrived,” JJ explained as she strode across the living room.

“Hey Jules,” her brother said as she stepped aside to let him in.

“Don’t think you’re getting any wine,” she warned him with a smile.

He made an exaggerated
eww
face. “You know I don’t drink that stuff.”

She found his timing a little suspicious. Had he come over tonight because she was hosting the girls or had it really been his best opportunity to get the job done? The former made her wonder which of her friends he might be interested in. “And you know I could have attached the knobs myself.”

“Then why didn’t you?” He chucked her under the chin and carried his toolbox into the kitchen.

“Need anything?” she asked him from the doorway.

“Nope. I brought everything I need.”

Always handy. She turned back to her friends as Baby asked Cindy about her latest book.

Settling back into her club chair in front of the window, she heard her brother moving around in the kitchen, unwrapping each brushed nickel knob. Then he fired up the drill. She was really lucky he was so handy and willing to help her out. Often she felt like he did more of the work than she did. She picked out the cabinets, countertops, flooring and wall coloring.

She wielded a mean paintbrush and could caulk with the best of them. But mostly she just tried to replicate designs that struck her fancy.

Was Trevor handy? Did he ever tinker around his apartment? Fiddle with cars or engines? Somehow she couldn’t see him doing that. Not because he was afraid to get dirt under his fingernails, because football fans everywhere knew that T-man had gotten plenty of mud beneath his nails during his time with the Wolves, but something told her he’d rather hire out the work and move on to something he enjoyed more.

That was a shame though. She’d love to see him doing some heavy lifting. Those biceps of his would bulge and what woman didn’t want to see that?

Somewhere between reminiscing about the way his breath fanned across her thighs and the feel of his lips on her breasts she lost track of Cindy's latest plot synopsis.

She blinked a few times and took a long gulp of wine. Then she turned her attention to Baby, who was glancing across the room, right at the kitchen doorway.

JJ followed her gaze and saw Greg hand tightening a knob with a screwdriver. Was Baby interested in Greg? She sent her pretty blonde friend a questioning look but Baby just grinned and turned her attention back to Cindy.

Had it really been two weeks since she’d been sitting at Gretchen’s house pondering Cindy’s casual fling? She let out a rueful sigh. What else could she call her weekend with Trevor?

At least she hadn’t broken her cardinal rules. Trevor was anything but a stranger and she’d been wearing clean underwear. The image of his face when he’d first glimpsed her panties flashed through her mind.

He’d intimated that he wanted to see her again and she hadn’t denied his request. She hadn’t exactly invited him to Atlanta either… John was extra volatile lately and she didn’t want Trevor to make flight reservations only to have her cancel at the last minute.

She didn’t want to rush into anything either. Her mom had learned the hard way to be careful where men were concerned. Meeting and marrying a man three months later did not a happily-ever-after make.

But who was she kidding? He could very well be interested in sex for sex’s sake. If she were honest with herself, she wanted more. She had wanted more all those years ago when he’d been another cocky ball player flirting with her after games.

He wasn’t a player anymore. But he was still a cocky flirt. The years had changed him, though. Matured him. Occasionally he’d looked almost haunted. But his killer smile was still quick to shine—

“Earth to JJ,” Baby’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Sorry.” She blinked a couple of times.

“What’s up with you? You missed Cindy’s whole plot.” Her friends stared at her curiously. The drone of Greg’s drill echoed through her apartment.

“Just preoccupied with work.”

Lying is not becoming of a southern lady
, she heard her mother’s voice whisper through her mind. It wasn’t a total lie, she thought, snagging a pretzel from the bowl on the large round ottoman.

At some point after she met Cindy, JJ had started having story ideas of her own. Long sagas about sports and players and all the craziness that was her life. Their life. Though she’d managed to write one book and send it to New York, she’d never told her friends she was writing anything other than articles for work. Sometimes she felt a little guilty about holding back that part of her life, but she didn’t want to take the spotlight from Cindy. She was the writer. JJ was the journalist.

And after that book had been rejected several times, she’d gathered her courage and written another one.
Game Day
had helped JJ land an agent. Jessica Ross was a goddess in the publishing world and was confident that she could sell JJ’s book.

It’d been three weeks since she’d heard anything, not that she’d expected a call anytime soon. Between her anxiety over the book, her job, selling the condo, and this latest…whatever it was, with Trevor, she could barely concentrate.

“Is your boss still riding your ass?” Cindy queried with a frown.

They all knew what a pain John had been since he’d come aboard as editor. Lord knew he gave JJ enough to complain about. Cindy’s protectiveness didn’t surprise her. She was a fiercely loyal friend. JJ sighed, the guilt from her secrets multiplying. Plural. She had
secrets
. More than one. When had she become secretive?

“Always,” she replied.

“The way I see it,” Baby said in that confident tone of hers, “you either need to ask for a raise, steal his job, or find a new job.”

“I vote for steal his job,” Gretchen said. “That way you’ll be home to go shoe shopping with us on Saturdays.”

JJ froze, eyes locked on Gretchen. She wasn’t—she couldn’t know—No. That was impossible.

“Or not…” Gretchen said uncomfortably.

“You reminded me I’ve got some shopping to do.” Another lie. Gracious she was racking up tickets to hell.

She reached into the end table and grabbed a notepad and a pen, then scribbled ingredients for her father’s birthday cake.

“I don’t want John’s job, but I’m not opposed to a raise,” she said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Have you talked to Adam lately?” she asked Cindy, glad to divert the attention to her friend’s fella.

“As a matter of fact, he’s flying out here tomorrow.” Cindy was halfway through her list of places she wanted to show her new beau when Greg came through the wide doorway, toolbox in hand.

Cindy paused.

Greg grinned at her. “Sorry to interrupt girls’ night, ladies. I’m all done Jules. Let me know if you need any help staging.” He waved good-bye, his gaze not lingering on anyone in particular.

Stinker. She’d been hoping for a clue.

She saw him to the door and wished him a good night. Maybe she was wrong… but he could do far worse than one of her friends. Next time they were alone, she’d ask him. It was probably just the hormones talking, but she wanted everyone to be as blissfully happy as she’d been in Trevor’s arms.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Two hours later JJ's heart stuttered as she read the caller ID. Trevor had called several times the past two weeks and she found herself thinking about him at odd hours. Thoughts of him had made washing the dishes bearable.

“Hi,” she said by way of greeting.

“Hello gorgeous.”

She loved the way his voice rumbled through the phone’s speaker and made her body quiver with anticipation. Funny how a simple hello had her counting the minutes until she could see him, touch him again and planning a trip back to New York so she could kiss him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, settling into her favorite chair. Caressing the soft suede, she imagined it was his skin and then turned toward the window to gaze out at the Atlanta skyline. Yes, this place should sell for top dollar. Even with the housing market on the fritz, she’d chosen a condo with a spacious feel, a fabulous location and she and Greg had become master house stagers.

“Right now?” he asked.

“Mmm huh.”

“Waiting in line at the rental counter at the airport.”

“The airport?” Her heart dropped. She hadn't known he was going to be traveling. It was silly to feel like she was missing out on his life. He certainly didn’t have to run all his plans by her, but there was a stab of regret. She should have invited him down for the weekend. Now that John had stopped dicking around, she knew she’d be in town.

“I hope you're not busy tonight otherwise I've flown all this way for nothing.”

This time her heart skipped twice before coming back with a rapid beat. He was in Atlanta?

“Julia?”

“I'm here.”

“I've got the keys. Are you going to give me your address so I can plug it into the GPS?”

“I could have picked you up.”

“I think sweeping you off your feet and toolin' around town is in my job description,” he said, a smile in his voice.

She huffed out a laugh, smiling herself, and gave him her address.

“See you soon.” Before she could reply he'd clicked off.

JJ stared at the phone for several moments, trying to decide if she'd imagined the whole phone call. Maybe she should call him back just to check. But that'd be silly. Surely she wasn't imagining phone calls from her lover.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. Given the time, it'd probably take him twenty minutes to get here. Tossing her phone down, she raced to the bathroom. Good thing he'd called, she needed to shave; else he'd probably mistake her for a primate.

Fifteen minutes and a shower later, JJ stood before her floor length mirror holding two outfits in front of her. Jeans and a cute top or a slightly slinky dress?

She didn’t want to look like she was dressing up for him, rather, waiting around to see him. But on the other hand, dresses were much easier to take off. And this particular dress showed off her legs to their best advantage.

Already imagining the look on his face, she hung the rejected outfit back in the closet and tugged the dress over her head. A quick coat of lip gloss, and a quick brush through her hair and she was ready.

No sooner had she stepped from her bedroom than the phone rang. Taking a deep breath, she stepped toward the sofa table and plucked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Julia — let me in.”

Her stomach flipped over at the sound of Trevor’s voice and more importantly, his close proximity.

“Sorry, no one here by that name,” she teased, almost unable to stop the laughter bubbling inside her.

“Julia!”

“Third floor.” She pressed a button to unlock the outer doors so he could enter.

Be cool. Don’t look too excited to see him.

Knowing that’d be impossible, and unable to stop her feet, she strode to her front door and opened it. A few moments later she heard the elevator ding as it arrived.

Careful to keep her door from shutting behind her, she leaned into the hallway. The moment their eyes met, his steps slowed.

Damn he looked good enough to eat. Scarcely able to believe that Trevor Wyatt was striding down the hall of her building, to her door, to her…she felt a scorching heat race over her shoulders. Lust, that’s what it was. Pure and simple desire.

But as a smile of pleasure stretched his lips, she realized there was nothing pure or simple about her desire for this man.

“I should have asked for the vixen,” he said an instant before he took her into his arms and kissed her breathless. There was an urgency about him that hadn’t been there two weeks ago - an urgency she returned with her hands, lips, and tongue.

It still amazed her what incredible shape he was in. How strong and solid he felt beneath her touch.

“Wait—” She tore her lips from his. “Don’t let the—” But the door shut behind her, the sound of the lock sliding into place echoing in her ears.

“Ugh oh. I take it your door locks automatically.”

She gave a quick nod.

“It's okay,” he said easily. “I'll call a locksmith.”

“You don't have to do that.”

“It's my fault the door locked. If I hadn't been kissing the daylights out of you...” he trailed off, looking at her like he wanted to forget the door and pick up where he’d left off. Her cheeks warmed under his gaze.

“I didn't mind,” she whispered.

Phone forgotten, he pulled her back into the circle of his arms and lowered his lips to hers. “We may never make it inside,” he murmured.

As his tongue teased its way through her lips and tangled with hers she chastised herself for not accepting one of his dinner invitations years ago. He was head and shoulders hotter than any man she'd ever dated. And somehow he seemed to know exactly which buttons to push, how to touch her, what she wanted.

His instincts were right on target when his hands roamed up her back and pressed her breasts against his chest. Closer. She needed to be closer.

And naked.

“Julia,” he whispered against her lips. “Let me call the damn locksmith so I can take you inside and make love to you properly.”