Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 14
“I told you that the nails came out of the rounded end.”
“And I told you that I’m not great at home repair. I’m also not in the market for any tiny livestock.”
“But—”
“No infinity,” he stressed. “I’m on the road a lot and I don’t have time for any animals.”
I huffed. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried a no infinity on me. I’d worn them down and I’d wear him down, too. As he pulled into the driveway, I unbuckled my seatbelt. Another telltale click echoed mine, and I glanced over just in time to see Andrew’s seatbelt retract.
I stared. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like we’re at the ‘thank you for the ride’ part of the evening.”
“I’ve been Uber-ing your ass around for a week, Jesse,” he said as he pressed the engine On/Off button. “Invite me in.”
“What are you, a vampire?”
“I’m awfully parched,” he said pitifully. “Maybe I could get a glass of water for the drive?”
Despite myself, my lips twitched. “Don’t you always carry one of those Yeti coolers with you?”
“It’s empty,” he said, lying his ass off. I didn’t even need to shake the container to check. Maybe it was the athlete in him, but he was to hydration like bees were to pollen.
I guess I was being rude. And he had done me a favor, several times over at this point. As if he could sense my near capitulation, he bumped my shoulder with his. “Loosen up, J. It’s not that big of a deal.”
It was a very big deal. I should tell him to start up his Tahoe and hit the bricks. I only allowed people in my home that I trusted, and I didn’t trust many people. I wasn’t sure why I was making an exception now. Maybe I trusted him a little more than I thought, which was…surprising.
I didn’t care to examine that unsettling train of thought any further. “Dearest Andrew,” I said with a dramatic sigh. “Won’t you please come in?”
“I’d be delighted,” he said, matching my starchy tone. “I know your last name is Fox, but it’s good to know you weren’t raised by wolves.”
Before I could respond, he got out of the car, closing the door on my outraged face. For that, I made him carry the box. And right before my very eyes, a furball love affair began.
He couldn’t seem to look away from the rabbits. I wasn’t even sure he was aware he was smiling at them like they’d done something great instead of just continuing to exist in their furry glory. They were both girls, one fluffy and gray, the other bigger and smoother and all black. I’d cuddled them both at my desk while I was on a call. Turns out holding rabbits makes the day seem a little better…at least until they started dropping poop pellets on my lap. That got them a return trip to Boxville in a hurry.
When he brushed a finger softly over the black one’s nose and she bumped his finger with her head, it was over. He looked at me, resigned, and I smiled brightly. “She comes with feed and a half-eaten salt lick, but you’ll have to buy your own hutch and hay.”
“Shut up, Jesse.”
“I’ll send you a link on Amazon,” I called after him as he stalked up the path.
I wasn’t sure if I liked having him in my space. He didn’t bother to hide his curiosity as he carefully took in his surroundings. I doubted that a columnist for Architectural Digest would do a more thorough job. I busied myself with settling the rabbits as he wandered, changing their newspaper and setting up a water dispenser. I added food and the salt lick, then stepped back to survey Rabbit Land. I tsked to myself. I didn’t even have fresh hay, but it would do until tomorrow.
I looked up just in time to see Andrew disappear into the kitchen. “Perhaps you need your forensics kit from the car?” I asked. “What are you expecting to find?”
“I dunno. That’s the point.” His voice floated through the pass-through window as I toed off my sneakers and tucked them against the wall. “You’re closed off and cagey as a cat. You act like sharing something about yourself would actually kill you.”
“Why did I let you in again?”
“No idea, but it’s too late to change your mind.”
He sounded way too cheerful about that as he left the kitchen and made a beeline for my bookcase. I’d made the window area into a bit of a reading nook, and my throw was still crumpled on the chair. It was a favorite space of mine, and I used it often.
When he picked up my current read and examined the cover, I made it ten seconds before I took it out of his hands—snatched it, really. I wasn’t even reading anything salacious. It was a political thriller for God’s sake.
He blinked at me in surprise as I flushed and pondered the life choices that had made me this way. I set the book back down and said lamely, “I’m just a private person.”
“Or in the witness protection program. I’m guessing.”
Amusement battled with my discomfort, and my mouth twitched. “Well, we don’t all need to be an open book with a million followers tracking our daily smoothie.”
“I knew you looked me up,” he crowed, and this time I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You like anything you saw?”
“No,” I said truthfully because I certainly didn’t like feeling off balance, hot and bothered.
His eyes danced because he knew that was complete bullshit. “You wound me, Jesse. You really do.” Finally done with his thorough inspection, he dropped down on my couch...like he was planning to stay awhile. “You have a nice place.”
“Glad you approve.”
I stared.
He stared right back.
I narrowed my eyes. “I still have the number to Got ’Em Critter Fumigation, you know. Denny said I could call anytime if I have any unwanted pests.”
“I’m sure he did.”
His tone was unmistakable and I frowned. I could be oblivious when people were interested in me, but Denny? “Nah,” I said slowly. “You think?”
“Why?” If his eyebrow got any higher, he’d have to sew it back on. “You’re interested in Denny?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” Apparently, I was now interested in completely inappropriate men who wouldn’t exit my home voluntarily. I glanced pointedly at my watch. “It’s getting late. I should probably get started on dinner.”
A smile played on that wide mouth. “I could eat.”
“Note the complete absence of surprise from this side of the room.”
He didn’t look hurt in the least as he patted his stomach. I wish I didn’t know there were washboard abs under there. “I’m conditioning.”
“So you’ve said,” I said doubtfully. “To do what is the question.”
I bit back a smile at his responding middle finger.
After I surveyed my fridge contents and declared there wasn’t anything appetizing in there, he checked it himself. Then we checked it together. We started going through options and discarding them just as quickly until my stomach let out a growl. Talking about food—even food I didn’t deem worthy enough for dinner—was making me hungry. And grouchy. I was done playing Guess What I Want For Dinner? No, Not That.
Andrew lobbied for the steak one more time before he took in my resting hangry face. He closed the refrigerator door in a hurry. “Pizza,” he declared and reached in the crisper. “And maybe you should eat this pear. You look a little…stabby.”
“That’s not a word.”
“To someone in danger of being stabbed, it is very much a word.”
I’d like to say he was overreacting but…well, it was best for everyone that I just eat the damn pear.
After stuffing ourselves with pizza, we wound up sitting on the couch, watching a couple of mindless shows that he swore were must-see TV. After ten minutes, I couldn’t testify to that, but I certainly enjoyed hearing his laugh. It was deep and full-bodied like he wasn’t holding back. That laugh said I don’t care if you find it funny because I do, so fuck it and you.
My biggest problem was the seating. My couch was the type that liked to hold people like a hug. It wasn’t designed that way, but it was old and the cushions no longer had the will to maintain structure. That made it damn near impossible to keep an appropriate distance. Every shift brought us a little closer together.
Andrew didn’t seem to mind. He finally got tired of my efforts to plaster myself to the armrest and put his arm around me. I scowled at the TV as he played with the ends of my hair. I felt cozy. Safe. And so hot and bothered I was about to come out of my skin.
I glared. I blamed all of this close-proximity shit. A little Andrew-free time wouldn’t go amiss. Then I could go back to being boring, dependable Jesse, not the Jesse who wanted to throw him down on this couch.
He leaned forward to reach for the remote and I could feel the muscles in his arm bunching and then relaxing. I always forgot how big he was, probably because of how gracefully he moved. Maybe that was because athletes were so in tune with their bodies.
I’d like him to be in tune with my body.
The thought alone made me shift in my seat. And maybe shiver. Just a little. I could solve my little problem in a snap. I knew he wanted me, too…I just didn’t know why. Was I just a passing fancy? Someone unattainable because I didn’t drop my pants and present the moment he’d shown any interest? If that were the case, he could hit the bricks. I wasn’t that hard up and I didn’t want him that badly.
Okay, fine, that was a lie. I was that hard up and I did want him that badly. I’d hate to send him packing without feeling that cock open me up just once. Maybe twice. You know what? Let’s just play it by fucking ear.
I stared at him, plucking at the rubber bracelet on my wrist. Thinking. What if his dogged pursuit was more than just maintaining a perfect record for conquests? Maybe he wanted me as much as I wanted him. No complications. Just the two of us taking pleasure in each other and fuck the consequences. Fuck tomorrow. His hand anchored in my hair as I struggled to swallow as much of his dick as I could manage.
Aaand now I was breathing a little heavily, half-hard behind my zipper. He rubbed my arm with that big football-roughened hand absently, and I shifted again, casually pulling a throw pillow over my lap to hide the evidence of his effect on me.
When he sighed and flicked off the TV, I blinked at him owlishly. “You leaving?”
“No, I’m waiting for you to say whatever is making your brain overheat over there,” he said with a sigh. “Spit it out already.”
Prolly not the time for a ‘that’s what he said’ joke. I sighed wistfully at the missed opportunity. “Alright, you go first.”
“I don’t have anything to say,” he said exasperatedly.
“No?”
“No.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I said wistfully. “I was really hoping to stall some more.”
“Fox.”
“Alright, alright.” I blew out a breath. “We’ve been dancing around things for a while now and the attraction just isn’t going away. So I gotta ask. What’s your endgame here?”
“I wasn’t aware I needed one,” he said, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “I just know that I like you. Isn’t that enough?”
Could be, as long as we both knew the terms. There would be no happily ever after with matching schnauzers and weekend brunches. Just right now.
I pushed off the couch and turned, straddling him because I was an incorrigible person who did incorrigible things. He took my weight easily, his hands on my upper thighs as I sat back on my haunches and met that steady gaze.
His mouth quirked. “Part of me wants to think this is a good sign. But then there’s the other part of me that knows nothing with you is quite that easy.”
I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
“Check. What else, Jesse?”
The sound of my name on his lips made something in my stomach flutter a bit. I liked it when he called me Fox in a derisive tone, but when he called me Jesse…fuck. I sucked in a breath when he pressed kisses across my jaw.
“If we do this, things are over when you get cleared to play,” I managed.
That got him to pull back in a hurry. He arched a brow. “Mind if I ask why you’re acting as though our relationship is a vampire and football is the sun?”
It should be harder to amuse me. It really should.
“Because the media attention on you is going to ramp up and I’m in no mood for them to tear my life apart.”
“So you’re going to abandon me to the scrutiny?”
“Like I’m a rat and you’re a sinking ship.”
He barked out a laugh. “Anything else?”
“We should keep this as quiet as we can.”
He was starting to look exasperated. Maybe that was because I was putting more fine print on a little dalliance than an Apple contract.
“I wasn’t planning on taking out a billboard,” he growled. “Maybe we should get my attorney in here. Just to make sure we’ve addressed all the terms and conditions to fucking on a couch.”
“Dramatic, much?” His hands made a slow journey up my thighs and around to my ass, and it was hard to remember what I was going to say. “I just want to do the smart thing before things get all...all….”
I couldn’t seem to finish that thought as he kissed a path down the side of my neck. Hot, open-mouthed kisses that sucked lightly at my skin and made my cock jump in my pants.
“All what?” His voice was just a rumble against my skin.
“Um…what?”
He looked amused. “You should tell me now if you don't want this.”
His stubble scratched against my skin, ever so slightly, giving me an unexpected, full-body shiver. The noise I made was suspiciously close to a squeak. He laughed against my skin before he sucked a patch into his mouth. “You can’t—”
“I won’t mark you,” he said softly, accurately guessing my concerns.
As much as I wanted him to bite and suck and go nuts on my neck, I couldn’t show up to the center looking like I’d volunteered as tribute for a bunch of vampires. I was supposed to be a good example for the kids for God’s sake. Not someone who’d gotten his rocks off…which I was absolutely about to do.
“Well, I know you like terms and conditions,” he said with a wicked little grin. “What else do you like?”
It was strange that such an easy question practically short-circuited my brain. I wasn’t sure Trace had ever asked me that. We did what he wanted to do. We fucked how he wanted to fuck. My past relationships weren’t much better. Maybe I just gravitated toward a certain kind of guy because it was comfortable. When you’re a giver, you attract takers. That was just human nature. I didn’t know what the fuck to do when faced with another giver.
It took me a few seconds to realize that honeyed gaze was still trained on me, his thumbs caressing the skin right above my jeans and slightly under my shirt. I stared at him so long that he raised an eyebrow questioningly. “To what do I owe this Jesse shutdown?”
I could feel the blush rising on my face. I was so far from virginal it wasn’t even funny, and here I was acting like this was my first time. As usual, he knocked me off-kilter with little effort at all.
“Maybe you just don’t want to tell me,” he said, his tone laced with a hint of playfulness even under the arousal. That was Andrew in a nutshell. He made the simplest of things fun—I didn’t know why I’d think sex would be any different.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m thinking whips and chains. Or furry suits.” He bit my ear playfully. “You’re a dirty old man, Jesse, and I’m not doing any of that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “If you don’t jettison that old man shit, the only thing you’re getting is a knee to the balls.”
He grinned. “Then I’ll ask you again, dirty old—dearest youthful Jesse,” he amended as I lifted my knee a pinch. “What do you want?”
I couldn’t quite come up with anything more lucid than you. “I don’t know,” was all I could manage.
“You don’t know? Or you’re afraid to say?”
To him? No, I felt perfectly safe to say whatever I wanted to say. Or do. He was roughly about twice my size, and yet I wasn’t afraid of him at all. He was always so good-natured that it was hard to match him up with the guy on the field who didn’t seem to mind getting in other players’ faces. Or the guy who wasn’t afraid to get physical for a dirty hit. In one memorable YouTube video, they needed three players to get between him and a defensive tackle as they jawed off to one other, so close that their helmets kept knocking together. They reminded me of a pair of angry rams locking horns. But I guess that was part of the game. This was eons away from that.
“I want your shirt off.” My voice sounded like I’d been gargling with gravel.
His eyes flared with surprise and then arousal. I guess I did know what I wanted. Him, naked, right the fuck now. He leaned back a pinch to do my bidding. I watched avidly as he revealed a chest that was heavy with muscles, one that I knew a whole lot of people drooled over routinely on Instagram. Now it was mine to do with as I pleased…for now, anyway.
I didn’t hesitate, reaching out and running my hands over his skin, all warm and golden. He was smooth in some places, hair-roughened and battle-scarred in others. I traced the divots of his stomach, the peaks and valleys of muscle as his body jumped under my fingers. Just like in his pictures, the fucker had v-cuts.
I thought that shit was a photoshopped myth.
“What the hell are these?” I demanded, running my hand over the defined areas. “Real people don’t have these.”
He looked smug. “You can have them, too, Jesse, if you just—”
“Please.” I tweaked his stiffened nipples and he let out a little gasp. “I have no desire to have such strange things. You might as well tell me how to grow a unicorn on my ass.”
He spluttered out a laugh that died out as my fingers stole for his sweatpants. I tugged the drawstring loose and pushed at them until he lifted his hips to help. I was too impatient—and distracted—to bother to get them lower than his thighs. His dick bulged and strained in his boxers, already leaving wet spots on the gray fabric. I had to marvel a little at that sculpted body. He did a lot of work on himself and it showed.
