Forward Pass. Desiree HoltЧитать онлайн книгу.
needs 2 go 2 hotel.”
“B nice, Shay. He’s good friend.”
“Call him. Tell him 2 leave.”
“Told you to take good care of him, right? Do that for me.”
“I can B nicer if he’s in hotel. CALL HIM!!!!!”
She waited and waited. Kept watching the screen. Nope, no more texts came through.
“Damn you, Hank.”
Shay tossed the phone onto the bed. Now what? She’d have to come out of the room sooner or later. She strained her ears to catch any sound of movement in the house but heard nothing. Maybe he was already gone for the day, doing whatever it was he was here in town to handle.
She cracked the bedroom door an inch and listened intently. Still no sound. Okay. If he wasn’t gone maybe he was still sleeping. In which case the tank top and boy shorts she’d slept in would do fine for a quick trip to the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee. Just in case, she walked on tiptoe and held her breath as she moved down the short hall and through the living room. The kitchen was empty. Good so far. She let out a sigh of relief and set about brewing her coffee in the single-cup machine.
“Think you can fix one of those for me?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Shay jumped at the sound of the deep voice, banging her knee against a cupboard door and nearly cracking her elbow on the counter. She turned slowly, praying her face showed no emotion. Holy Mother, it was a sin to look that good in the morning. The Fox Sports T-shirt and running shorts did little to disguise the hard, masculine lines of his body. Despite the fact Joe Reilly hadn’t played one down in five years, he obviously worked hard to keep himself in shape. She couldn’t keep her eyes from taking in every inch of his still-athletic body. The scruff on his cheeks and slightly mussed hair only enhanced the sexual hum in the air around him.
Shay closed her eyes for a moment and prayed she was still in her bedroom. That she was just imagining this. Then reality set in, she blinked and realized Joe was taking in every detail of her body as she’d done to him. The tank top and boy shorts seemed suddenly insubstantial, and she wished for a shroud to appear and wrap itself around her. No such luck, so she tried for an attitude of nonchalance.
“Um, yes. Coffee. Sure.” She busied herself taking down mugs and putting the little prepared cups in the machine.
“I need a slug of caffeine before I head out for my run.” His voice was rough with a gravelly, early morning rumble.
Sexy. Way too sexy. A pulse with a mind of its own set up throbbing between her thighs and her nipples hardened and tingled. Damn body! Traitorous body.
“You run every day?” She tried to make distracting conversation.
“Sometimes work prevents me, but I try to get a run in as often as I can. Keeps the leg limber.”
Shay turned to hand him his coffee and her gaze fell automatically to his knee where a white scar bisected the flesh. The knee he’d wrecked in the last game he played. The one the doctors had replaced. She was sure for him it was a constant reminder of the end of his dreams. Shay knew how vital knee flexion is to a quarterback. He needed the ability to keep his legs slightly bent as he stepped in to make the throw and to rotate over the leg on the release. When that was gone, the ability to play disappeared with it.
He saw the direction of her gaze. “I’m good with it. God’s truth. Football gave me a lot of good years and now I have a new career I love. I’m luckier than a lot of guys.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed.
For a very brief moment, sorrow for everything he’d lost swept over her. Then their fingers touched as she handed him the mug and high-voltage electricity shot through her. Joe’s gaze dropped to her tank top where she was sure her traitorous nipples poked back at him. At least if the flare of heat in his eyes was any indication.
So much for wiping last night out of her mind. She wanted him, plain and simple. All these years she’d wondered what an erotic touch from him would feel like. Now she knew and she wanted more. He was like addictive chocolate—one bite and you wanted it all. Maybe she should look at this differently. What would it hurt if she indulged herself? Gave in to temptation? She could get him out of her system once and for all.
But not until she was sure she had her act together.
And had her heart well protected.
Maybe.
Shay took a step back, picked up her own mug, and started toward her bedroom.
“Shay.”
She stopped, still facing away from him. “What?”
“About last night.” Uncertainty tinged his voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to bring it up or not.
“Forget it.” No, she wasn’t ready to talk about it now. Not until she was sure she had full control of herself. “You got carried away. I understand. No explanations necessary.” She paused. “You probably thought I was someone else, anyway.” She took a step forward again.
“Shay!” This time the word was almost a shout. “Damn it, take a minute and listen to me.”
“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me. We’ll just forget it ever happened.” If she didn’t get out of the room soon, she might say something she’d regret. Like let’s do it again. And she wasn’t quite ready for that yet. “That’s what you were going to tell me, right?”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
Was that desperation in his voice? Maybe he thought she had expectations now. She could certainly disabuse him of that in a hurry.
“It’s okay, Joe. Listen, enjoy your coffee and have a good run.”
Speaking of running, she almost ran to her bedroom, holding her mug so no liquid sloshed over the rim. She closed her door and leaned against it, hoping he didn’t follow her. Her pulse was racing, and she had trouble catching her breath.
Think, think, think.
What if she did this, gave in to all her urges? If he wanted to have sex with her again she’d go for it, making it very clear he was under no emotional obligation. She was a big girl. The thought of finally being completely naked with Joe and having wild, uninhibited sex was way too tempting.
She could do this, especially if she could manage to control the situation.
She waited, listening for any sounds in the hallway. The soft tap on the door sounded as loud as a thunderclap.
“Shay? Come out here and talk to me. I owe you a huge apology.”
Oh, great, an apology. The kiss of death. He was going to apologize for forgetting who she was and thinking she was one of his hot numbers, just when she’d made up her mind to go for it.
“It’s okay. Please just go for your run. And don’t knock again. I’m heading for the shower.”
Which she did, closing the door loudly enough that he could hear it in the hallway. She turned on the shower full force, then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and took a swallow of her coffee. She didn’t need his apology or his pity, if that’s what he was offering. She took another swallow of coffee, easing the lump in her throat. Finally, convinced he’d left the house, she stripped off her shorts, and top and stepped under the hot water. Maybe, if she stood there long enough, she could wash away the memory of his touch.
* * * *
Joe enjoyed running whenever he got the chance. People always focused on a quarterback’s arm, not realizing strengthening his legs was just as important. A big part of the precision and timing of a throw depended on leg action. After the surgery, he’d forced himself to start again as soon as he got the all clear. Even though his playing days were over, he maintained the routine. He’d discovered when he ran for pleasure it felt very, very good.