Authors: Jami Davenport
Tyler, being Tyler, took it all in stride, as if it was his due. He basked in the glory. Derek found it hard to say no to all the people who suddenly wanted a piece of him. If he was busy before, it didn't compare to being a local celebrity, poised on the brink of being a national celebrity.
He reeled from the impact and sought refuge from the chaos, a refuge only one person could give him.
Rachel.
"You're in denial.” Mitch propped his butt on the porch railing. Crossing his arms over his chest, he angled a glare at his sister meant to pierce the strongest defenses.
Rachel maneuvered away from the porch light so he couldn't see her face clearly. “I am not. I'm doing exactly what I set out to do. Give me another month or two, and he'll be telling all."
"Bullshit. You've fallen in love with him.” He spat the words like a distasteful mouthful of the broccoli he'd hated as a child.
"See how good I am? I even have you believing I'm in love with him.” Rachel smiled sweetly.
Mitch rolled his eyes. “The only thing I believe is you're interested in proving Ramsey's innocence."
"If I proved his innocence, that would mean our father—"
"Is guilty. Think about it."
"Dad's innocent.” Above all else, Rachel was fiercely loyal to her family. Family came first. It always had. It always would. She wouldn't sell them out for anyone, even Derek Ramsey. “I'll get the information out of him."
"You're paying a big price. Are you absolutely certain you're up to this?"
"I'm in complete control.” Rachel grabbed Simon's collar as he shot up the porch steps toward her brother.
"What's with that dog?” Mitch eyed the animal with suspicion.
"You need to switch aftershave. Whatever you're wearing attracts canine delinquents.” Simon strained against her hold on his collar and whined.
Her brother moved back a few steps. “Have you seen Dad lately?"
"A few weeks ago. He's the same."
"Yeah, I saw him last night. At least he was half-sober, but it was early evening. I tried to talk to him about getting some help. He kicked my ass out of the house.” Pain filled Mitch's green eyes.
"Mitchie, I promise I'll fix this."
"Really, Rae? Even if he's vindicated, will it heal his wounds? I'm not sure life is so tidy."
Rachel was certain life was anything but tidy.
Rachel pulled back the curtain and gazed into the black night. She sighed and pressed her face against the cool window glass.
Derek had invited her to dinner. He'd called three times saying he was running late. Finally he'd called one last time with apologies. Watching game tapes with the guys, he just couldn't get away. She held out hope he still might make it, but it'd been a couple of hours.
Disappointed, she opened her laptop and read through the materials from today's lecture in her football management course. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Eleven p.m. Tires crunched on the gravel driveway. Cass had moved out over the weekend and in with her new lover, so it couldn't be her.
Rachel peeked through the curtain. Tall and lean, always in motion with pent-up nervous energy, Derek stood on her porch, tapping his foot. He raised his hand to knock. She opened the door, kneeing Simon in the chest before he bowled her over and invited himself inside. Simon whimpered, and she saw that one of her leather riding gloves hung out a corner of his mouth. Rachel lunged for the glove. Simon feinted left and bounded out of reach. Rachel grasped air, tripped over the doorjamb, and went down. A split second later, Derek suspended her in his arms. He pulled her next to his chest and held her tight.
"Interesting welcome.” His chest rumbled with laughter under her ear.
"The criminal has one of my new gloves.” She raised her eyes to his face, and her heart waltzed a little welcome dance despite her annoyance with his dog. He stared down at her and didn't say a word, though his mouth twitched at one corner.
Simon whined, but Charlie held him at bay with one of those stay-back-or-you're-cat-food looks only a cat can give. The feline rubbed around Derek's legs and inserted himself between them and the dog. Simon backed off the porch.
"I'd given up on you. Do you know what time it is?” Sometimes she wasn't sure he noticed such things.
"Uh, yeah. I just got done. I'd promised to put in an appearance at a charity event, and I totally spaced it. Had to run by there first.” Derek released her and bent to scratch the cat. Charlie rolled over and exposed his belly for more scratching. Simon made a move to sneak by. Charlie didn't allow sneaking. He slapped Simon on the nose, claws out, and drew blood. Simon yelped and jumped back.
Derek straightened, shook his head, and laughed. “Reminds me of your brother and me."
"Which one of you is the thief?"
"Neither.” His intense stare backed her up a step. “Damn, I've missed you. It's been a long week."
"It's not over yet.” Hope bloomed in her heart.
"We fly out tomorrow for our game on Sunday. Can I come in?"
"It'll cost you a glove."
"Wicked, evil woman to pit me against an obsessed dog."
"Not wicked enough."
"You're getting there.” His knowing gaze raked her body. She shivered as if he physically ran his tongue over her bare skin.
He called Simon to his side. Simon obediently sat and spat the glove out on the ground, panting heavily. Charlie hissed from a few feet away. The dog kept a wary eye on the devil cat.
"All you have to do is ask him. He's very accommodating."
"To you maybe. He knows I don't like him. He toys with me.” Rachel grimaced at the growing pool of saliva on her porch. She picked up Charlie, holding him to her. Her cat looked over his shoulder and smirked at the canine intruder.
Derek shrugged and handed her the soggy glove with a missing thumb. “Can I come in now?"
Rachel stood back and let him in. He squeezed through the door, careful to keep Simon out. She slammed the door on his persistent dog. Prying Charlie's claws off her shirt, she placed him on the floor. Satisfied the enemy was locked outside, he strutted off to spread cat hair on her couch.
"Rae. I'm really, really sorry about tonight. I was looking forward to it."
Not as much as she'd been.
Derek wrapped his arms around her and just held her against his big body. She felt the tension, knew it was from the incredible pressure he was under. When the team was bad, no one but the team cared, but now that wasn't the case. Expectations and pressure had risen exponentially with their Sunday night win.
He buried his face in her hair. His breath feathered her neck. Little shock waves of sexual electricity charged her body. A smart girl didn't need sleep when she had a sexy guy like Derek. He slid his hands down her back and molded her to his body. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he flinched.
"Are you okay?” She loosened her hold.
"Just sore.” He drew back and studied her face. “But I'm better now that I'm with you."
She didn't want to hear that. Not tonight. Not ever. He made it sound like he cared, like they could have a real relationship that might actually go somewhere. She journeyed to more stable ground. “You're so tight."
"That's my line."
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Watch it, or I'm sending you out to sleep on the porch with Demon Dog."
"Sorry, ma'am.” He swept off an imaginary cowboy hat in a gallant gesture and bowed low.
Rachel sighed. “Would you like me to work out some of those kinks?"
"Oh yeah, and how about adding some of your own?"
"Kinks?"
"Uh-huh.” The weariness in his dark brown eyes gave way to a twinkle of expectation.
"Do you ever think about anything but football and sex?"
"I try not to."
She laughed in spite of herself. Smirking, she crooked her index finger at him. “Follow me to physical therapy."
"I was hoping you'd say that.” His grin spread wider than the Grand Canyon. “Are you including those kinks you mentioned?"
"I'll decide the therapy. You decide your state of dress."
"That's simple. Skin."
Derek trailed Rachel to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his sweatshirt, T-shirt, and socks. He fell on the bed on his stomach. He left his jeans on and gave her the choice as to whether or not she wanted to turn her offer into something sexual. He was easy and game for anything, at least with her. Besides, he liked the thought of her undressing him.
She straddled his body and worked on the knots. He winced when she hit an exceptionally sore spot.
"Does that hurt?"
"I'm pretty beat-up, but I have a high pain tolerance.” He shut his eyes, letting the crap of the day flow away from him. Her competent hands worked through the layers of tension little by little.
"You're burning the candle at both ends. Have you ever considered saying no?"
He sighed and buried his head in the pillow. “I can't."
"You can."
"Who should I say no to: the battered women's shelter that asked me to speak to their kids; the children's hospital that wanted me to visit the terminally ill; or how about the soldiers that just came back from overseas? Or maybe I should turn my back on the senior citizens group, some of our most loyal fans?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't push you."
"You don't need to apologize. You're speaking the truth. I know that. I just don't know who to turn down."
His cell phone jangled in his pocket. No one called him this late unless it was an emergency. “Aww crap. Can you get that for me?” Right now he didn't want to move and destroy this rare relaxed state she'd lulled him into.
"Sure.” Rachel fished it out of his pocket—a pleasant experience—and handed it to him. He checked the caller ID, hit the Off button, and tossed the phone on the nightstand.
"Damn."
"Who is it?"
"My agent.” He gritted his teeth. The man did his job—too well.
"This late?"
"He's been hounding me all day about a lucrative modeling contract he wants me to sign."
"You? Model?"
"That's my reaction. It's for men's underwear."
"You? An underwear model?” Rachel started to laugh, but Derek didn't find the situation funny.
"The one offer I
can
say no to. He's Ty's agent too. Why the hell doesn't he ask him?"
She shook her head. “You need
people
to screen this stuff for you."
"My
people
consist of a kleptomaniac dog, an old cow pony, and an agent with dollar signs in his eyes instead of pupils."
"You need an advocate for you, like a handler."
"Yeah, maybe I do.” He mulled her suggestion over as she went back to work on his kinks. The answer struck him up the side of the head with its simplicity.
"How about you? You handle me pretty well. Except I'm still not getting that kink you promised."
Rachel pushed on another tender spot. He grunted in pain and shifted his position on the bed.
"There, I got it. Happy?"
"Not exactly.” He rested his head on his hands.
Rachel laughed, and more of the day's stress peeled away. She'd become his go-to girl, just like his senior year when the Cougars were Rose Bowl bound. He'd been under enormous pressure then, but it didn't compare to this. Nothing compared to this, and the ride had only just begun. If it wasn't for Rachel, he didn't know how he'd deal with it all. A twinge of guilt slid through him. When things settled down, he'd stay here on his Seattle farm while she headed for a job in pro sports, most likely with another team.
He didn't want to think about her not in his life.
Shutting out the future, he closed his eyes and let her work her magic. The tension flowed away like warm water down a bathtub drain. Seconds turned to minutes until he lost track of time.
"You feel better. More relaxed."
"I am. Thanks to you.” He felt squishy and loose.
"It was nothing."
"It was something.” He rolled over on his side and pulled her next to him. “You don't know how much I appreciate and value your friendship."
She smiled a sad smile and wouldn't look him in the eye.
Women
. What the hell had he said wrong now?
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just tired. I had a trying day."
"Rae, tell me all about it.” He wanted to know. Wanted to give back a little of the comfort she gave so generously to him.
"Not now. I promised to work on the kink."
He smiled. They could talk later. “Work away."
She slid her hands up his chest and rested them on his shoulders to push him onto his back. Bending her head, she slid her tongue over a nipple. He moaned as she sucked and licked first one nipple, then the other. She'd neatly avoided his question, but right now he didn't give a shit. He was, after all, a guy and becoming hornier by the second. Her mouth moved downward to his belly button, then lower. He sucked in a breath.
Rachel unzipped his jeans and pulled them off along with his boxers. She looked down at his cock with such an appreciative expression that it wallowed in the flattery and swelled even bigger.
"What are you going to do to me?” He cleared his throat.
"You'll have to wait and see."
Damn
. “I can do that. Don't you think you're overdressed for this party?” His body buzzed with sexual energy.
"The important question is, do you?"
"Oh, hell yes.” He started to sit up, but she put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.
"No, let me do the work tonight. You're tired."
"Okay.” He swallowed and licked his lips in anticipation. Let the little lady feast on all he had to offer.
She inched off her shirt, revealing a little bit of skin at a time. Derek stared. His tongue hung on the floor. He bit back a moan and wiped his mouth.
Her simple bra turned him on as much as the lace ones. He brought his hands up behind her back and undid the clasp with ease—a talent he'd mastered in his early twenties. She giggled and pulled away, shaking a finger at him when he attempted to follow. Slipping out of her bra, she dragged it across his face, down his chest and stomach, and over his eager dick.