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  Whatever she called it, there was nothing sensible about it. Not remotely. Her mother would be horrified. She could hear her voice now.

  “Making out with some man in the back of a shoe store? Really Julia. I raised you better than that. You're not in high school.”

  No. She certainly wasn't in high school. They didn't make men like Trevor Wyatt in high school. It took college and then years on the pro football field to create a man as heavenly as Trevor Wyatt.

  And that was the crux of the problem. He ignited a fire within her that no man ever had. It blazed hot. Fast. Burned like an inferno. One which she had no chance of extinguishing.

  Rolling her shoulders, she tried - and failed - to relax. Who was she kidding? The only thing that would relax her at this point was one heck of an orgasm.

  She took another deep breath, let it out through the mouth and leaned against the table. When he came back, she’d suggest dinner. Dinner...and then he could come back to her hotel. Was that sleazy? Based on the way he'd grilled her earlier, she seriously doubted he'd want her coming back to his place.

  Thinking of his earlier interrogation irked her all over again. She wasn't on the job right this minute and it bugged her that he didn’t take her at her word. On the other hand, if he didn’t recognize her, how could he know? Why would he trust her?

  And just what made him think that he was worth a story after all this time? He’d made it very clear that he was done with football, his private life was private and he wasn’t answering any questions. Just what had happened during that accident?

  Her nerve endings spoke up then. He's definitely worth a story, they sang in unison. A full page, cover story in Playgirl magazine. With centerfold!

  Trevor flipped the sign hanging in the window to ‘closed’ and flipped the lock. He couldn't handle any more interruptions. He'd lusted after Julia Fairchild since the moment he laid eyes on her five years ago.

  At the time, she'd been a junior reporter, working the locker room with poise and grace that belied her years or position. Every straight guy in the joint had hit on her. And when they weren't hitting on her they were checking out her assets. Trevor was guilty of that himself.

  He'd asked her out all those years ago and she'd turned him down flat. Even now, the disappointment pricked him. Why hadn't she said yes? By the way she'd combusted in his arms moments ago, it was obvious that she was attracted to him. Hadn't she been attracted to him back then?

  Or was this all part of a scam? An attempt to get the scoop on why he’d left the field? The thought burned his gut like acid.

  He stalked back into the storage room and found her leaning against the table at the far wall. She'd rebuttoned her shirt. Was she leaving? That was probably for the best, but damn if disappointment didn’t stab him again.

  “Sorry that took so long.” Story or no story, he realized as he saw the look of uncertainty fade from her eyes, he wanted her… Wrapped around him like chocolate on a strawberry.

  She smiled at him then, the come-hither smile of a woman who was happy…and horny. His disappointment dissolved as he stepped toe to toe with her. She stared up at him for a long moment and he saw the war inside her. What were the options she was weighing? He hoped whatever they were the outcome would be in his favor.

  She reached for him, fisting her hand in the front of his T-shirt, pulling his head down for another kiss that sent all his blood rushing back to his cock. Damn, that was hot. Normally, take charge, aggressive women were a turnoff, but she was a perfect mixture of dominant and submissive.

  Her breathy little moans drove him crazy. Did she know how those little sounds affected him? How he’d lay awake weeks from now hearing them in his mind?

  He ground himself against her, showing her what words couldn't.

  “Trevor...” she whispered against his lips but got lost in the kiss.

  He grinned, liking that he could distract her so easily. She was a woman of words. But right now, he wanted her actions. Her lips beneath his, opening for him. Accepting him. He wanted her breasts, flushed, full, with hard little nipples, stabbing his hands.

  She jerked his shirt up and slipped her hands beneath. He shuddered at the feel of her cool fingertips skimming over his skin.

  He fumbled with the top button on her blouse.

  “Why'd you go and do that?” he murmured, ducking to kiss the thumping pulse point in her throat.

  “What?” Her voice was husky.

  He searched for the words but failed to find them. “This,” he said, indicating the buttons he had to undo again. He was tempted to give the deep teal colored shirt a good yank and send the damn things flying.

  Instead he cupped her breasts, wishing he could will the fabric away so that nothing separated them.

  “Sorry.”

  “I'll just have to unwrap you again.” He kissed her neck again.

  “Mmm.” She hooked her thumbs under the hem of his shirt and shoved it up to his chest. He shrugged out of it and tossed it over his shoulder. After looking his fill, he leaned into her again, but she put up a hand, holding him off.

  “What?”

  Her gaze dropped to his chest, then his abs, and back up to his shoulders. It was obvious by the heat in her gaze and the curve of her lips that she liked what she saw. A lot.

  He didn’t remember her having brown eyes though. And her hair was darker. That’s what had thrown him off when he’d first seen her in the store. He’d be sure to ask her about it. Later.

  Much, much later.

  Impatient, he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the table. With her shirt gaping open he could memorize every curve.

  She was neither rail thin nor over-weight. Her waist was small, made smaller perhaps by the extra seductive flare of womanly hips. Her abs were smooth, which suited him just fine.

  He detested six packs on women. To him, the female form should be soft, lush, feminine, just begging to be cradled and cuddled. He didn’t want to risk getting nailed in the nads with a protruding hip bone.

  Letting his hands follow his gaze, he trailed his fingers over her smooth skin and gripped her hips. He kneaded her flesh for a moment, loving the feel of her. So warm and real. The little gasp that escaped her lips drove his hands north again. What would it take to get her to make that sound again?

  The heavy swells of her breasts in that tempting see-through number made his mouth water. He cupped the mounds, flicking his thumbs over the hard little points at the center. Damn she was responsive.

  “You're every jock's dream come true; you know that, don't you?”

  She laughed. It was a light, airy sound with a hint of disbelief. “Why do you say that?”

  “I figured you female journalists wore white cotton. And you've been hiding this delicious package all these years.”

  Her gasp echoed in his ears.

  Not to mention, she loved football. Five points for the lingerie. And five more for loving his favorite sport. Her tally was adding up.

  Lips curved up at the edges, she pushed the shirt sleeves down her arms. The black fabric of her bra made her creamy skin seem more intense. Her smile ratcheted up a notch as she reached back and unfastened her bra.

  “That's my job,” he murmured.

  “Too slow,” she said simply.

  Damn. He loved her sass. “Vixen.”

  The fabric loosened and he wasted no time pulling the straps over her shoulders and down her arms revealing her beautiful breasts. Her nipples were hard and dusty pink. Trevor realized it was a damn good thing he'd never gone to dinner with her. If he'd been lucky enough to score one night with her, he'd have had a hell of a time concentrating on the next game, knowing she might be in the stands. Forget catching a football. He’d have gotten himself killed. And it would have been all her fault.

  Right now he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his bed and never let her out again. The primitive urge surprised him. But, he realized as he looked down at her lo
vely body, nothing should surprise him when it came to Julia Fairchild.

  Smoothing a hand up his chest, she studied him closely, almost like she was painting him with a virtual paint brush. The dreamy look in her eyes told him she liked what she saw.

  She flicked his left nipple with her thumbnail, sending a jolt through him. He trapped her arms behind her, holding her wrists together with one hand while bracing himself over her with his other.

  “Playing with fire, beautiful.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  He stole a quick kiss before heading south to the most perfect tits he'd ever seen. Perky but not plastic-surgery-perfect. Taut, with small nipples made for sucking. He put his theory to the test and closed his lips over the nearest peak.

  Divinity.

  He flicked it with the tip of his tongue, reveling in her breathy gasps and the way her belly trembled. She squirmed in his grasp.

  “Trevor...”

  “What?” he asked; barely letting her breast slip from his lips.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Did you want something, sweetheart? All you have to do is ask.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  For a moment JJ thought of the freckle faced teenager and his instruction to “ask Trevor” should she need anything. And here Trevor was, telling her the same thing. As if everything and anything in life was hers for the taking, if only she had the courage to ask for it.

  But it was so hard to utter the words. To tell him what she wanted...needed. Words were her living and she wasn’t a prude.

  Trevor's lips twitched. “I never would have pegged you as the shy type.”

  “I'm not shy,” she defended. Was she shy? She didn't think so. She could walk into a locker room full of naked men and not blink an eyelash. Okay, so that was a teensy white lie. She would totally blink. And then try not to stare.

  “Then what is it?” He knelt on the floor and kissed her stomach. “Inexperience, maybe?” For a second, worry flickered in his gaze.

  Oh good heavens…he didn’t think she was a virgin, did he? She frowned. While she didn’t have the little black book of a star NFL player, she’d had sex before. Not out of this world sex, but pleasurable nonetheless. She always read Cindy’s latest release and the good Lord knew that had opened JJ’s eyes. No, she wasn’t a blushing virgin…

  “It's not that...I just have trouble...expressing myself.”

  Always had. Even though she wanted to be one of those women who could turn her man on with a naughty suggestion, she’d always found it hard. And the one time she’d tried, her boyfriend had laughed at her “corny words.”

  Asshat.

  Trevor barked out a laugh of disbelief but his smile warmed her from the inside out. “You? Ms. Words. Have trouble expressing yourself? I don't believe it.”

  “Just because I'm a writer doesn't mean I express myself well...in..”

  “In bed?” he finished for her.

  She nodded.

  “Well...we'll just have to work on that, then won't we?” An eyebrow lifted in challenge and she felt something flutter inside her. Hope, lust, she wasn’t sure.

  She wanted to tell him to get back to what he'd been doing, but couldn't force the words between her lips. Telling him how hot he was? No problem. Telling him she needed him? No problem. It was the specifics, the naughty words that tied her tongue.

  He chuckled to himself and dipped his head. “Want something?” His mouth hovered just above her left breast, blowing a steady stream of hot air over her nipple.

  “Yes...” she hissed.

  “Say it, Julia.”

  Shock and pleasure bubbled through her. “Y-you remembered my name.”

  “Of course. Just because you colored your hair and put in those silly contacts and dropped a few pounds doesn’t mean I’d forget you.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  He groaned.

  “I—I can’t believe you recognized me.”

  “It’s your lips,” he murmured, staring at them. “The one trait you can’t change. The one part I could never forget.”

  “Oh—”

  Holy smokes, that was hot. And with him staring at her lips like he was making a three dimensional scan, she got even wetter.

  “Now…” He ducked his head and resumed his position a fraction of an inch above the tip of her breast. “You were telling me what you want.”

  “I...I can't—”

  “Sure you can.” His tongue snaked between his lips, taunting her. He was so close. Just teasing her. He’d given her a taste of what to expect, shown her how good his mouth felt on her tender flesh, the way her body responded to his tongue, his lips, the delicious suction. And now he was just teasing her. Tormenting her.

  Just as he’d promised he would.

  “Just open those sexy lips and say ‘Trevor, I want your mouth on my breast.’”

  A harsh laugh escaped her. “You're incorrigible.”

  “Mmm...big word. Not the right one, sweetheart. Say it. Ask me.”

  His command made her even wetter. It was all one big mind game and whether he knew it or not, it was making her hot. And courageous. His words, the way his hands held her where he wanted her, even the way he teased her.

  “I want your mouth—on my—breast.”

  “What's my name, beautiful?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Trevor.”

  “Now...put it all together.”

  Frustrating man!

  “Would you just shut up and get back to it already?” He laughed, loud and long. The rich sound was infectious, making her feel happier than she had in months. Then he dipped his head and pulled the aching peak into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Rolling it over and over. She arched her back, wishing she could wrap her arms around him, run her fingers through his hair. But he still had her wrists trapped behind her back and wouldn’t let her touch him.

  Frustrating…gorgeous…talented man.

  “Mmm.”

  She let her head drop back, enjoying the pull of his lips. And — oh... He raked his teeth down her breast. What sweet delicious friction. Her thighs closed, squeezing his torso. Another chuckle rumbled out of his I-can-bench-press-your-car chest.

  “We'll get to that in a minute, beautiful.”

  “This is torture, you know that? I never knew you had this kind of patience.”

  “The reward will be that much sweeter.”

  Oh, he'd better be right. She’d never felt like she could spontaneously combust before. But as it was, she had a full body fever going on.

  Her eyes closed as he switched to her other breast. A few moments of his attentions led her to a singular conclusion. He was a master, she was sure of it. She'd never been more turned on. His voice, his eyes, watching her, his hot mouth suckling her breasts…all together it made her toes curl in her shoes.

  His hands moved to her skirt, pushing it up. “Now, to see if you're one of those women.” His grin was irresistible. No wonder he'd had such a long string of women following him around over the years.

  “One of those women?”

  An eyebrow quirked upward.

  It annoyed her, that he’d twice made mention of what type of woman she was. Did she have to be a specific type? Fall into a specific box? Couldn’t she just be herself? Loved for everything she was and everything she wasn’t? Scratch that. This wasn’t the time to bring the L word into it.

  “Are you the type who has to have matching underwear?”

  Okay, so she was one of those women. But dangit, she liked having on pretty things under her clothes. Sometimes, like today, she got to dress nice, but most days she was in jeans and a t-shirt. Some jobs required her to wear a jersey.

  Wearing a sexy little demi bra with matching panties gave her an ego boost. The delicate lingerie made her feel feminine and when she was surrounded by sports loving testosterone-filled men; she needed every reminder that she was a woman. A desirable woman.

  “Well,” she
said, grabbing ahold of her courage, “what are you waiting for, stud?”

  Trevor grinned and shoved Julia's skirt to her hips. A tiny scrap of sheer black fabric concealed her womanly folds.

  “So what type of woman am I?” she asked. There was something in her voice that betrayed her confident exterior and Trevor knew that somehow they'd left the fun and frisky sex behind and were now entering something deeper. Much more dangerous. If only he'd kept his trap closed.

  “You're a beautiful woman.” He kissed the inside of her knee. “Sexy.” Then each thigh. “Lovely.” And finally, when he'd worked his way up to the apex of her thighs, he placed a kiss at her center.

  “So, are you going to ask me for what you want or are you going to make me figure it out?” he asked.

  She pursed her lips in a sexy little pout. “You're a resourceful guy. You figure it out.”

  “I'd rather hear you beg.”

  He hooked his fingers over her panties and tugged them down her legs. Good God she was beautiful. Smooth skin, trim curls.

  He swallowed. Wet curls.

  She smelled like vanilla and sex, a heady combination. He pulled her hips to the edge of the table. “I told you my favorite carnival treat is cotton candy. Know why?”

  “Because it’s sweet.”

  “Because it melts on my tongue.” He kissed the inside of her thigh and then glanced up at her. “Will you melt on my tongue, Julia?”

  Her gasp was the single most erotic sound he’d ever heard and it echoed through his mind, making his cock twitch. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. So unsure. And yet, so beautiful.

  His cock was hard as a damn rock and he didn't know how much longer he could keep teasing her like this without losing his control.

  But he knew that she needed teasing. Somehow this woman, this captivating woman, who had a way with words, was shy in the bedroom but there was something about her, the look of concentration perhaps, that told him she needed, desperately needed to come out of her shell. And dammit, he wanted to be the guy that brought out that side of her nature. The man who taught her how to ask for what she wanted. And then he wanted to be the guy to give it to her.