Line of Scrimmage

Book 2: Game On

by Desiree Holt

Genres: Sports; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Sports Romance

Synopsis

The USA Today bestselling author of Forward Pass “scores a touchdown with this contemporary romance filled with heat and heart.”—Night Owl Romance
 
One bad tackle. That's all it took to put wide receiver Jake Russell in a cast for the rest of the NFL season. From being a high school all-star to getting drafted by the Austin Mustangs, football has been Jake's life for as long as he can remember. It's what defines him—because he has a secret he never shares. But now that he's laid up in bed with a nurse displaying a lot of distracting bedside manners, he's discovering life off the field might have its perks . . .
 
One last paycheck. That's all Erin Bass has left to her name when the resort she works at shuts down. Desperate, she agrees to be a caregiver to hardass jock Jake Russell, who also happens to be a memorable one-night stand. Before long, caring leads to daring new ways to catch up in bed, especially with Jake still in a cast. But with football on the sidelines, this time the game is serious . . .
 
Praise for Desiree Holt and her fan-favorite novels
 
“Readers can't help but root for them to fall in love.”—RT Book Reviews
 
“Her novels are about the story: the characters, their motivations, their flaws and back stories and always about human nature. They are also about mature love and respect and very steamy sex.”—Austin American-Statesman
 
“I have read many other books by Desiree Holt and have enjoyed every one of them. Just keep them coming.”—Fresh Fiction

Release date: December 8, 2015

Publisher: Lyrical Press

Print pages: 212

Sample

 

Sometimes it’s not about winning…

 

One bad tackle. That’s all it took to put wide receiver Jake Russell in a cast for the rest of the NFL season. From being a high school all-star to getting drafted by the Austin Mustangs, football has been Jake’s life for as long as he can remember. It’s what defines him—because he has a secret he never shares. But now that he’s laid up in bed with a nurse displaying a lot of distracting bedside manners, he’s discovering life on the sidelines might have its perks…

 

One last paycheck. That’s all Erin Bass has left to her name when the resort she works at shuts down. Desperate, she agrees to be a caregiver to hardass jock Jake Russell, who also happens to be a memorable one-night stand. Before long, caring leads to daring new ways to catch up in bed, especially with Jake still in a cast. But with football on the sidelines, this time the game is serious…

 

 

Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com

 

 

 

Finding Julia

 

Game On Series

Forward Pass

Line of Scrimmage

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

 

 

 

A Game on Romance

 

Desiree Holt

 



LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

 

 

 

Lyrical Press books are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

 

Copyright © 2015 by Desiree Holt

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

 

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Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

 

First Electronic Edition: December 2015

eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-731-2

eISBN-10: 1-61650-731-4

 

First Print Edition: December 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-732-9

ISBN-10: 1-61650-732-2

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

 

As always, to my late beloved David who thought I could do it all.

 

 

First of all, I have to acknowledge Frank and Lynn Barrett who wrote How to Watch a Football Game and made a football junkie out of me. Then there is the staff of the Michigan Daily who many years ago accepted me on the sports staff and started my crazy addictions. Of course to my family, who supports me one hundred percent and helps with all the stuff I don’t have time to do when I’m writing. A little extra to my son Steven who lets me talk football with him endlessly. Thank you, everyone.

 

 

 

People ask me all the time why I write and I tell them it’s because I’m a storyteller. I always have at least ten stories whirling in my brain trying to get out. But I also write for my readers, who make the writing worthwhile. Your emails and Facebook posts make me smile every day and inspire me. My family has asked me for ages why I didn’t write stories about football, since I am such an obsessed nut Every football weekend I am glued to the television and woe to the person who dares to interrupt me. So at their urging I decided it was time to put my passion to work and created a series of stories whose heroes are former or current football players. And because I live in Texas, where football trumps every other religion, where Friday Night Lights is more than a television program, I stated with the heroes of a small Texas town football team, fast forward fifteen years. Writing this book has been such enjoyment for me. I hope I convey my passion to all of you who read my books and have become part of my extended family. This is for you.

 

 

 

Erin Bass came awake slowly, tried to shift her position in the bed, and discovered an arm banding around her waist. A male arm. A very muscular male arm, with soft hair tickling the underside of her breasts, held her against a very masculine body that she was startled to realize was sporting a very firm morning woody. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again, hoping it had all been a bad dream. That the party last night, and everything afterward, would just disappear.

“I know you’re awake.” His raspy, rough voice sent shivers rippling through her.

He knew she was awake? But she’d been so very still, not daring to breathe or make a sound.

“Erin?”

The deep voice was tinged with humor and all too familiar. Apparently she was in bed with Jake Russell. Football hero. Ladies’ man. The gridiron hero the people fawned over. And her friend Ivy’s brother. It also seemed she’d gone there very willingly and participated in the night’s activities with great enthusiasm, if the pleasant aches in her body were any indication.

Oh, wait. Pleasant was too weak a word for it.

She certainly had no trouble remembering the touch of his hands or the slick feel of his tongue on her clit. The warmth of his lips as they pulled on her nipples, the leanness of his fingers as they stroked her to completion. Or the thick feel of his cock inside her as he pushed her to one orgasm after another.

When had she last had sex like that? Ever? The chemistry between them was off the charts, hotter than anything she’d ever experienced. On the one hand, she wanted to lock the doors and shut out the world until they managed to wear themselves out, if that was even possible. Jake seemed to have a remarkably short recovery time.

On the other, she wanted to pull the covers over her head and pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. She had broken her own hard and fast rule. If she stepped outside the lines to have a one-night stand, she’d have been better off hooking up with a stranger—with anyone—other than sexy, full-of-himself Jake Russell. At least then it wouldn’t matter so much when the guy gave her the expected good-bye speech.

How in God’s name had she managed this, anyway? She liked to think she was a lot smarter than that. Really had her shit together.

Oh, yeah. The damn party. The one she hadn’t wanted to go to. The one Ivy had insisted on dragging her to. With her brother Jake.

Her friend’s words played over again in her head.

“It’s a reunion party with a lot of Jake’s teammates from the Granite Falls Coyotes. The big state championship team. It’s the first time they’ve all been together in ages.” She’d winked. “And I can finally introduce you to Jake.”

Erin remembered protesting. “Ivy, listen. I don’t really want to go to a party with football jocks.” And she hadn’t wanted to. Bad memories cropped up when she heard the words football player. “And I don’t want to get involved with Jake. It can only end badly and affect our friendship.”

“Oh, come on,” Ivy had urged. “You’re making too much of it. It’s a last night out for those in the NFL. Training camp starts Monday, then preseason, then the regular season. Besides, it will take your mind off your problem for a while.”

Her problem. Unemployment. She had a good excuse for one lapse in judgment. Her life was about to implode. If she didn’t resolve something soon, she’d have to go home to Dallas with her tail between her legs—something no woman at the age of thirty wanted to do—and she’d wanted to get away from the disaster for just a few hours.

So she’d let Ivy bully her into going to the party, where she’d felt as if she were swimming in a pool overloaded with testosterone.

They weren’t there for five minutes before Ivy dragged Jake over to say hello and bam! In that instant a lightning bolt struck, her body went liquid, and her hormones began an unending happy dance. Try as she might she hadn’t been able to shut them down. The man had glued himself to her side, and every touch, every glance only stoked the flames between them higher. She’d been tipsy on white wine and an overload of sexual anticipation, blotting out the uncertainty of her future.

She’d forgotten all about the dangers of football jocks. Forgotten all about reminding herself football players were on her forbidden list and that included players from the Mustangs, the darlings of Austin.

And she’d stupidly let Jake take her home and—

So much for all her firm resolutions.

They’d barely been inside her apartment before they were tearing each other’s clothes off. He was so hot and sexy, consuming her with his presence, igniting a wildness in her she hadn’t even known she possessed. For one very brief moment, sanity had tried to intrude and she’d considered stopping the action. Then she’d thought, What the hell? Her life was rapidly being flushed down the drain, so didn’t she deserve just one little treat?

Now here she was. Still in bed. Her bed. With Jake Russell.

Great. Just great.

“Erin?” His mouth was close to her ear, his breath like a soft breeze against her skin.

Maybe if she didn’t answer him he’d go back to sleep and she could sneak out of the apartment and leave. Oh, wait. They were at her place. He had to be the one to head out the door. She had to get him out of here now, right this minute, and pretend it had never, ever happened.

She looked around through barely opened eyes. Sunlight slanted into the room through partially closed blinds, spotlighting clothes dropped to the floor in haste. The comforter might be covering her but it looked as if it had been quickly yanked into position. The air around her was scented with a combination of sex and a spicy male cologne.

She’d been so sure last night could be one and done, that she could have wild monkey sex with Jake Russell and easily walk away from it. But pulling herself away from that hot male body was easier said than done. Just being next to him, skin to skin, ignited a need she hadn’t even known she possessed.

She gave herself a mental smack on the forehead.

Well, Erin, you’ve gone and done it again. You’d better get yourself out of this right this minute.

“I can almost hear your brain going a million miles an hour.” He paused a minute. “You okay?”

Okay? Okay? She was naked in bed with Jake Freakin’ Russell. No, she wasn’t okay. How in the hell had she let this happen? He was off limits. Forbidden. Verboten. And any other language she could think of. He was Ivy’s brother, for the love of God. And known by reputation to be so allergic to relationships he broke out in a rash if anyone even said the word out loud.

Been there, done that, had a closet filled with the T-shirts.

“I’m fine.” Did she just growl that? “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Fine indeed.” He smoothed her hair back from her face. “You were damn fine last night. Better than fine.”

She didn’t know quite what to say to that so she just ignored it. She lay there, still as a statue cocooned in his arms while she tried to figure out how to ease herself out of bed. Or at least how to respond to that comment, but then Jake took that out of her hands.

“Listen, last night was unexpected, but—”

She tensed. Here it came. Of course. “But what?”

He kissed her bare shoulder. “But it turned out just great, didn’t it?”

“Great. Yeah. Okay.” No, no, no. Great but dangerous.

“Unexpected,” he repeated. “And actually maybe better than great.” More shoulder kisses. “So, I’m thinking,” he went on, “I mean we should probably talk about it.”

Erin’s stomach knotted. Talk about it. Right. What was there to say? Was he afraid she’d attach herself to him like a barnacle? Did he think she wanted some kind of commitment from him after one night? She should have known. This whole damn thing was her fault for letting him take her home, kiss her, invite himself inside.

Where they’d done a hell of a lot more than kissing.

Now it was time to pay the piper. He wanted to talk? Fine. But she’d be the one doing the talking. No one gave Erin Bass The Speech. At least not anymore. She’d just take the lead on it here and surprise Mr. Macho.

It was hard to gather her thoughts, however, when one warm hand cupped her breast, his thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipple. His lips trailed soft kisses along her shoulder and his warm breath caressed her ear. Just like that, her body woke up and said, Give me more. Her pulse set up a steady tattoo in all her erogenous zones.

No, no, no.

“I don’t do anything without coffee,” she told him, trying to ease herself away from him. But before she slipped out from beneath the covers, she remembered she’d have to make the coffee because they were in her place and no way was she getting out of this bed while Jake Russell could get another eyeful of her exposed body.

What do you think he did last night, idiot? Kept his eyes closed?

“On second thought, maybe I’ll skip the coffee.” She inched herself upward, clutching the sheet as high as she could. “If you could maybe put on some clothes, though, I won’t look while you do it.”

He chuckled, a sound so unexpectedly sexy she had to squeeze her legs together against the throbbing his voice ignited.

Stop! Stop it now! This is a huge mistake, Erin! Fix it!

“How about if I just get dressed,” he offered. “And run out for some coffee with maybe a pastry or two.” He started to toss the covers back.

“No. Don’t move.” She squeezed her eyes shut and slapped her hands over her face.

Jake laughed again. “Make up your mind.” Then she felt the bed shift as he stood up. “It’s okay,” he told her a minute later. “All the important parts are covered, although last night you couldn’t seem to get enough of seeing them.” He paused. “Or touching them.”

She opened one eye partway and discovered he had told the truth. Not that this was much better. He’d pulled on his boxer briefs, but they did little to disguise the outline of his thick and obviously swollen cock. His streaky blond mane was sexily rumpled, and the darker hair on his chest called attention to broad shoulders and hard muscle, reminding her of nothing less than a proud lion. His arms and legs looked just as powerful, just as hard, just as defined. Of course they should be. Wasn’t he the Mustangs’ number one running back?

Some said he was getting close to the end of his career, but looking at him now, Erin would have to argue with them. He was still in excellent shape, with flat abs, sculpted muscles, and long powerful legs. It took a lot of restraint to keep from drooling.

“Think you’ve looked long enough?’ There was a hint of laughter in his voice and mischief danced in the chocolate brown of his eyes.

Unfortunately, none of it distracted her from the sight of his morning woody. She felt her face flame when she saw him studying her carefully, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“I didn’t—I’m sorry, I—Oh, hell. Turn around so I can put something on,” she ordered. “Be a gentleman for once.”

“For once?” His eyebrows lifted. “I think I’m insulted. I always try to behave like a gentleman.”

“Fine. Then close your eyes, or turn around, or both.”

When he turned his back on her, she scrambled off the bed and reached for the nearest piece of clothing, which just happened to be the shirt Jake wore the night before. Well, too bad. No way was she having this conversation while she was in her current state of undress. It was hard to be indignant when you were stark naked.

Even though the shirt covered her almost to her knees, she still hopped back in bed to pull the bedclothes up to her waist. No skin, she told herself. Running her fingers through the tangled mass of her hair that always refused to behave, she pushed it back and tucked it behind her ears. She dearly wanted to wash her face, brush her teeth, and make herself presentable, but she didn’t want to take the time. It was important to get out in front of this and have it over with quickly. She was determined that she’d have the upper hand here, so she folded her hands on her lap and wet her lips.

“Can I look yet?” His voice still had its morning huskiness.

“Yes. I’m ready,” she told him in a prim voice, smoothing out the covers.

He grinned when he saw her. “You look like you’re about to give a lecture to a misbehaving class.”

“Not at all. You said we had to talk and I agree. Absolutely. Talking is important.” She frowned. “But could you, um, put the rest of your clothes on?”

“Since you’re wearing my shirt, that’s impossible at the moment, but I’ll do the best I can.” He yanked on his pants and zipped them up, shoved his feet in his shoes, and stuck his socks in his pockets. “This work for you?”

“Fine, fine, fine. Sit down. Please.” She waved a hand in the air. “No, not there,” she snapped when he moved to sit on the bed, and pointed to the small chair next to her dresser. “Over there.”

She nearly laughed watching him try to fit his large frame into the small slipper chair, but she was determined to be serious. He finally squeezed his very fine butt in, rested his elbows on his knees, and turned his chocolate velvet eyes on her.

“So, Erin—” he began.

“Wait.” No, no, no. She was taking the lead in this. She cleared her throat and let out a slow breath.

“You said we needed to talk,” she pointed out, “and I completely agree.” Yes, she’d definitely get the upper hand here.

He cocked an eyebrow, as if surprised she agreed with him. “You do?”

“Yes. I know exactly what’s on your mind, and I am in complete agreement. This whole thing—last night—was a big mistake. For both of us.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose so high they almost hit his hairline. “What?”

“We both got a little carried away,” she went on. “The party was fun, but I—we—probably had a little too much to drink.” And wasn’t that an understatement. “We had a good time, but honestly, Jake, we can’t do this again.”

He sat there with his mouth hanging open, a stunned look on his face.

“Well, really, that was what you planned to say, right? When we had our ‘talk’?” She formed air quotes around the word talk. “And you’d be absolutely right. We needed to get it out there. ‘Last night was great but we need to put it out of our minds.’ Did I get that right?”

He studied her for a long moment. “What if that wasn’t what I was going to say at all?”

Erin pinched her eyebrows together. “What? You weren’t?” A funny little wiggle shimmied through her system. Then she forced a smile. “Come on. We both know this wouldn’t work. I just wanted to save you the pain of giving me the ‘It was nice but this can’t go anywhere’ speech.”

He shook his head. “As a matter of fact, no. That wasn’t what I planned at all.”

“Oh, come on.” She picked at the fabric of the sheet. “You have plenty of other fish to fry. You’ll never notice the loss, right? Besides, your sister is my friend and how would that work, exactly?”

“It might work just fine,” he disagreed. The dumbfounded look on his face was replaced now by one of growing irritation. “I don’t get in Ivy’s business, and she doesn’t get in mine.”

“Besides,” she went on as if he hadn’t said a word, “football season starts in a week, you have a packed schedule and I’m sure a cheerleader at every stadium. I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I mean, just because I’m friends with Ivy.”

“So which is it?” he demanded. “We can’t see each other because you’re my sister’s friend or you think I’d string you along because you’re her friend? Make up your mind.”

“I have made it up.” She used her best lady-like tone.

He pushed himself out of the small chair. “As a matter of fact, I was going to suggest we take this slow but see where it goes. Hooking up turned out great for both of us, so maybe there’s something there to explore. And yes, I have a busy fall. It’s all football from August to February. Yes, I have other obligations, but I can work around those, that is if you were reasonable about them—”

“Reasonable?” she broke in. “Did you just say reasonable?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “Okay, bad choice of words. But damn, Erin, last night was great. I thought we could—”

Could what? she wanted to ask. Roll in the hay for a few weeks when he could find time and then he’d leave her holding the bag? Not gonna happen. Maybe under different circumstances, but her life was falling apart. She couldn’t risk heartbreak along with everything else.

“You know it wouldn’t last. At least this way we can part friends.” She forced a smile. “Right?”

“Friends?” Each word sounded as if he’d bitten it off. “Friends don’t act this way with each other.”

“What way?” She frowned. “I’m not an idiot here. I know all about hotshot football players and their so-called social lives.”

“And apparently don’t have a very high opinion of us. Where did you get it, from the gossip rags?”

No. From her brothers. Worse than that, from past experience. “Come on. I’m giving you a free pass here. Anyway, I have a lot going on in my life right now, too much to be a notch on someone’s bedpost, so let’s just say it was great and let it go at that.”

“You know nothing about me. Nothing at all.” He gave her a penetrating look. “I’m not who you think I am, but I guess you’re not interested in finding out.”

“I don’t need to,” she insisted. “Besides, what are you so mad about? I should think you’d be happy I said this for you. Isn’t that what guys like you want?”

“Guys like me?” Every muscle in his face tightened. “What, do we come with a stamp on our foreheads that says ‘macho asshole’?”

“No.” She blew out a breath. “But I wish you would. It would make it easier on all of us.”

“Listen, Erin,” he began.

She held up a h. . .