She laid her hand on his thigh and felt the dampness of perspiration, knew he held back, so she swept her hand along his shaft and fluttered her tongue across the soft head.

“Yeah. Oh, yeah. Dammit, that’s going to make me come. I’m going to come in your mouth, Tara.”

She hummed against his shaft, needing him to let her have it all.

He arched into her mouth and groaned, then tightened his hold on her hair as he let go, spurting hot come into her mouth. She held him there, swallowing what he gave her as he rocked against her, his entire body quaking with the force of his orgasm. She finally released his c**k when he fell back against the sand.

“Damn,” was all he said.

Tara laid her head on his stomach, listening to the wild beat of his pulse, the upward rise and fall of his breaths while he smoothed his hand over her hair.

She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “Ready to give up your secrets to me?”

He laughed, raised his head. “Secrets? What secrets?”

“Damn you.” She picked up sand and rubbed it in his stomach. He lunged for her, but she screamed, jumped up, and ran, Mick on her heels. She knew she didn’t have a chance, and he was on her in seconds, tossing her to the ground. She squealed with laughter when he tackled her.

“Not fair,” she yelled as he pulled her under him, the top of her dress now around her waist. She didn’t care. “Your profession gives you an advantage.”

“Quit whining.” He grabbed sand and rubbed it between her breasts. She fisted a handful of sand and rubbed it in his hair. By the time they were through rolling around in the wet sand, Tara was convinced there was more of it on them than on the beach.

“Okay, enough,” Mick said, spitting sand out of his mouth.

Tara giggled and Mick pulled her up, threw her over his shoulder, and headed for their bungalow.

He turned on the shower while Tara stripped off her dress. They stepped into the oversized shower together and she laughed as Mick turned around. He had sand on his face, in his hair, and chunks of it hung on various parts of his body.

“Do I look as bad as you do?”

He brushed sand off her shoulders. “Probably.”

They lathered up and washed—rather thoroughly, since sand had gotten everywhere. Tara was thankful for the jets on both sides of the shower, and for the removable shower head, since she ended up with sand in uncomfortable spots of her body.

“Well, that was like a spa treatment,” she said once she’d rinsed the sand out of every possible crevice. “But my skin is utterly smooth now.”

Mick rinsed his face and turned to her. “Is that right? I think I should double-check to make sure you got all the sand out.”

Tara arched a brow, then held her arms out. “Inspect away.”

He turned her around and smoothed his hands over her shoulders and arms, then down her back. “Looks good here. Turn around.”

She did, and he locked his gaze with hers as he swept his fingers through her wet hair, letting his fingertips trail over her nose and across her lips. He bent and brushed his lips across hers. “Tastes sand-free.”

She sighed when he ran his tongue over her lips, slid between her teeth to taste her tongue before pulling away.

“No sand on your tongue.”

She laughed.

Her breath caught when he rolled his thumbs over her breasts, then caught her h*ps with his hands. “Yes, very smooth here, but I need to take a closer look down here.”

He dropped to his knees. “Spread your legs, honey.”

She did, bracing against the side of the shower when he leaned forward, his tongue snaking out to lick along the folds of her pussy. She tilted her head back and let the water fall over her face and hair, the heat and steam only adding to the pressure building deep inside her as Mick sucked on her clit.

She gasped when he slid his tongue inside her. He raised her leg and rested it over his shoulder, opening her further to him.

“Smooth, sweet, so soft here. He slipped a finger inside her, f**king her with gentle strokes while he lazily drew circles around her cl*twith his tongue.

It was the soft and easy that took her right to the edge—and over, shocking her that it was so quick. She gasped when she came, rocking against him while he held tight to her, making sure she wouldn’t fall as she rode out a delicious orgasm.

Mick stood and reached outside the door for a condom, then wrapped her leg around his hip as he shoved inside her, pushing her against the wall of the shower. He raised her hands above her head and bent to lick at her nipples.

Now it was a matter of passionate hunger, and she reveled in it.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, and he lifted his head, took her mouth in a blistering kiss, ratcheting up her desire to unbearable levels as he shoved into her with deep, penetrating thrusts.

He rolled his h*ps over her, grinding against her over and over until she was coming again, crying out as she exploded with sensation. He let go of her arms and lifted her, kissing her with everything he had as he let go with an intimate look that melted her. She drank in his groans and held tight to him while he shuddered against her, his fingers digging so hard into her buttocks she knew they’d leave marks, but she didn’t care.

The water had started to cool by the time he released her, and she was still quaking inside from the force of both her orgasm and his.

Mick reached over and turned the water off, grabbed towels for both of them. They dried off and climbed into bed. Mick pulled her against him, sweeping her damp hair to the side to kiss the nape of her neck.

Tara closed her eyes and tried to shut off the emotion that being with Mick always brought forth.

It was just sex. Just sex and nothing more.

Maybe if she kept telling herself that over and over and over again, she’d buy into it and keep the realization that she had fallen head over heels love with him at bay. Because that notion kept cropping up all the damn time, and the more she tried to push it away, the more it appeared.

She was afraid it was too late to make it disappear, despite her best intentions to talk herself out of it happening.

SEVENTEEN

“I NEED YOU TO GO TO A MOVIE PREMIERE.”

Mick had just had one of the most grueling workouts of his life. The last thing he needed to see when he walked off the field was Liz, looking fresh-faced, not a hair out of place, and like a tiger ready to pounce.

He wheezed in a breath of oxygen and blew it out, then sat on the bench and grabbed one of the bottles from the assistants passing by. “Why?”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look. “You know why. Season will be starting up soon. I need your face front and center on magazine covers.”

He gulped down half the bottle, then lifted his gaze to her. “What’s the movie?”

She grinned. “It’s an action flick. The new one with Matt Larson.”

“When?”

“Wednesday night.”

Mick nodded and grabbed for his towel. “I’ll check with Tara and see what her schedule looks like.”

“Whoa. I don’t think so.”

He looked up at her. “What?”

“You’ll be attending the premiere with Valisha Staniskowa, the hot beauty gracing the cover of the swimsuit edition.”

He stood and faced her. “No.”

She arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“I said, no. I’ll try to get to the movie premiere if you think it’ll help PR. But I’ll be going with Tara. And any future events you want to plan will be with Tara as my date.”

Liz let out a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s a nobody.”

“She’s not a nobody to me, Elizabeth. She’s someone I care about.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m only talking about promotional appearances that are a benefit to your career. Appearing with Tara at these events is of no benefit to you.”

He was in no mood for this, and Liz either didn’t get it or was too stubborn to see things his way. Either way he wasn’t going to budge. “I’m only going to say this one more time, so be sure to listen. I’m not going to do these events without Tara anymore. I care about her, and I don’t want to be seen in public with other women. Got it?”

She raised her hands. “Got it. Geez, you don’t have to bop me over the head with it. We’ll do something different then. You have a game this weekend, and the team barbecue is after the game. Invite Tara. She can meet the wives and girlfriends. And it’s a nice photo up. We’ll play that up and make sure cameras are in place to take your picture.”

When he gave her a look, she added, “With Tara.”

“Fine. Whatever you want.” He grabbed his helmet and headed off to the shower, wondering when his life had gotten so damn complicated. He had enough to worry about with his first preseason game coming up this weekend. He used to ease into these games with the zeal of a kid—no worries. But since he turned thirty and the bloodthirsty wolves of youth and vigor had started hounding his heels, every step he took had to be a careful calculation, and this time he had to put it all on the field. Management told him he was on solid footing and he was still their franchise player, but he knew that didn’t mean shit if he got hurt or his performance this season didn’t rack up the numbers.

And then there was Tara. How could something that had started out so lighthearted and fun and had just been sex turn into something serious?

He stood in front of his locker to get dressed and wondered what the hell he was going to do about that. He didn’t do serious relationships. Hell, he didn’t do relationships with women. He dated them. He f**ked them. He had fun with them. Then they went one way and he went another. His career—the love of his life—was football. Always had been, and he assumed it always would be. Oh, he figured he might settle down one of these days, after his football career was over and he had the time and attention to focus on a woman.

What he hadn’t expected was for Tara to come into his life and knock him back on his ass and turn his world upside down.

He wasn’t ready for a relationship and commitment yet. He had to focus on this season, and that meant everything else had to go away once the season started.

He pulled the shirt over his head and sat down on the bench to shove stuff in his gym bag, then dragged his fingers through his hair.

So what was he supposed to do about Tara? Dump her? Walk away and tell her the summer had been fun, but he was done now that the season was starting up? With the other women that had breezed in and out of his life, they’d known how it was going to be. Fun trips, fun photo ops, great sex, but when the season started, it was over. They knew it and he knew it, and they’d been fine with it, because they hadn’t wanted permanence any more than he had.

They’d known the score, they’d played the game, and both sides had won.

Yet on the field today he’d read the riot act to Elizabeth for suggesting he go to a movie premiere with another woman. He’d told Liz he wasn’t seeing anyone else, that Tara was the only woman in his life.

Shit.

Did he even know what the f**k he wanted?

He’d better figure it out before he led Tara on.

Or maybe he’d better figure out what she wanted. She might not want anything other than a summer with him. She was busy building her career. She had a kid to think about. It wasn’t like she was the sort of woman who was out there trying to land a husband. She was fiercely independent, protective of Nathan, and hadn’t wanted to get involved in his lifestyle in the first place. So it wasn’t like she was all in about becoming a permanent fixture in his life.

Did he want her in his life permanently?

He sat and laid his head in his hands. Jesus, he didn’t know. Could he handle that? He’d been chasing after her from the first night he met her, not even thinking about where it might lead. He’d operated on blind instinct. The chase had been fun because he’d never had to chase a woman before.

Now that the season was going to start, it was time to make some decisions, because it looked like his relationship with Tara was headed somewhere. His feelings for her were headed somewhere.

And he had no f**king idea how he felt about that or if he could even handle it. The thought of just walking away from her wasn’t acceptable. He wanted her in his life. But what did that mean, both for him and for her?

Christ. If he ever needed a drink, it was now. Alcohol had always been good for making him forget things he didn’t want to think about. And this was a great topic not to think about.

He grabbed his bag and fished for his keys, then pushed through the doors of the locker room, needing fresh air to clear his head. He hit the parking lot and sucked in a huge lungful of it, realizing he’d been breathing too hard, damn near hyperventilating. He popped the lock on his car, tossed his bag in back, and climbed in, forcing his breaths to calm before he started up the car.

Breathe. Settle. God, what was wrong with him? He had a great life, an amazing, successful career, an awesome woman who seemed to care a lot about him, and for the first time in years he was craving a drink.

What kind of motherfucking weak-willed as**ole did that make him?

He had a lot of thinking to do. It was time to go home, change clothes, and take a long run before he did something stupid like stop at the nearest bar and get a drink.

MICK AND HIS BROTHER WEREN’T THE CLOSEST AS FAR as siblings went, but Gavin knew what he’d been through. He needed someone to talk to, and since Gavin was in town for a game, he figured this was a good time to take his brother out for a late-night meal.

They met at a bar overlooking the city. Mick walked in and surveyed the panoramic view of the Bay Bridge and downtown San Francisco before skirting his gaze to the bar. He located his brother, who was surrounded by three women. It figured.