Straddling The Line: Play-By-Play Book 8 Read online

  “Am I annoying you now?”

  “Yes. But in a much more pleasant way.”

  He rolled her bottoms off and spread her legs, sliding down her body to put his mouth on her. All he could hear was her breathing as he pleasured her, and the occasional gasps and moans he knew she was trying hard to suppress. He loved her taste, the way her hips moved as she directed him right where she wanted him.

  “Oh, Trevor, you’re going to make me come. I need to come. Please.”

  He laid his tongue on her clit and took her over the edge, her body shaking with her orgasm. He didn’t give her time to recover, just slipped off his boxers and put on the condom, then entered her with her body still vibrating.

  Her pussy contracted around his cock, squeezing him in a death grip that shook his resolve as he pushed deep inside her. He stilled, lifting up to look at her. Her eyes were deep pools of stormy blue, her hands pulling him down, her legs wrapping around him.

  “Harder,” she whispered. “I want to feel you deep.”

  “You want deep?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled out and flipped her over, shoved a pillow under her stomach and spread her legs and entered her.

  She gasped, and lifted her butt, pushing back against him.

  “More,” she whispered.

  He wanted to give her more, wanted to give her hard, fast, and as deep as he could sink into her, but the damn bed squeaked. So instead, he gave her slow and deep, feeling every bit of her each time he inched into her body. Her heat surrounded him, every muscle quivering around his cock until sweat beaded and ran down his back. And still, he held on to her hips, watching her ass move as he pumped ever so slowly in, then eased out, until she moaned and tossed her head back, rocking that sweet ass against him.

  He leaned over her. “Do you know how badly I want to shove my cock deep into you? Do you know how much I want to give it to you hard and fast until you scream?”

  “Yes,” she said. “As much as I want it.”

  “Damn bed,” he muttered, then reached underneath her, finding her clit. “But I am going to make you come, Haven. And then I’m going to come hard inside you.”

  She tightened around him as he stroked her clit, her pussy gripping him in a vise that made him grit his teeth and fight not to come. Not yet. Not until Haven did.

  “Trevor. Trevor, yes. Make me come.”

  He swept his fingers back and forth over her clit, felt the contracting of her pussy around his cock.

  “I’m coming. Oh, I’m coming, Trevor.”

  Hell, yes, she was. And he felt it tear through him at the same time. He wrapped an arm around her, holding on to her as he shuddered through his own release, thrusting deeply into her over and over again, not caring that the bed made noise, that he groaned, that she let out a soft cry as they came together.

  Fuck, it was good, so damn good that he lost all sense of awareness except for the feel of Haven shuddering against him, her body squeezing every drop of come he had until she collapsed. He rolled to his side, drawing her against him, both of them damp with perspiration from the effort.

  Trevor swept Haven’s bangs away from her forehead and she reached out to rub her fingers over his lips. He grasped her wrist and kissed each fingertip, then took her mouth in a deep kiss that made his cock fire to life again.

  Yeah, his cock might want round two, but he needed a few minutes.

  “I sure as hell hope my mother doesn’t come running down the hall to see what all that noise was about,” Haven finally said.

  “Me, too. But if she does, I promise to throw you on the floor on the other side of the bed, toss a blanket over you, then tell her I was thrashing around because I was having a nightmare.”

  Her lips curved. “How chivalrous of you to protect my virtue like that.”

  “Just the kind of guy I am, babe.”

  “Speaking of my virtue—or lack thereof—I should go back to my room. Otherwise, I’m going to be tempted to cuddle up next to you and fall asleep. And then there’d definitely be some explaining to do in the morning.”

  Trevor took a deep breath. “I’d like you to sleep here with me tonight. But yeah, you probably should.”

  Haven got out of bed and bent over to find her clothes. He took a few minutes to appreciate the feminine lines of her back and of course, her great ass and legs.

  After disposing of the condom, he put on his boxers and walked her to the bedroom door, pulled her into his arms, and gave her a long, deep kiss that made his cock go steely hard. When he pulled away, Haven licked her lips.

  “Thanks for that. Now I’ll never get to sleep tonight. Then again,” she said, cupping his erection, “it looks like you won’t, either.”

  He took a deep breath. “Yeah, but I’ll have great dreams.”

  She quirked a sexy smile and reached for the doorknob. “Pleasant dreams, Trevor.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  OVER BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING, HAVEN PLAYED it very cool. She was polite and tried to act normal. Her mother asked her if she slept well, no doubt referring to her breakdown from the night before.

  She had slept well, thanks to Trevor, and she’d told her mother she had no trouble sleeping.

  Trevor had been all smiles and, as always, was charming with her mother. He even helped her make breakfast while Haven sipped coffee at the kitchen table. Haven told her mom about Trevor’s house in St. Louis, and about Hammond. Her mother was fascinated about the house, and Haven showed her photos. Trevor invited her up for a visit. The whole thing was oddly . . . comfortable, and yet uncomfortable at the same time. It was as if she were sharing her boyfriend with her mother.

  Which she clearly was not, since Trevor wasn’t her boyfriend. But she liked seeing him working side by side with her mom, cooking bacon while her mom had fixed eggs and biscuits. She could almost envision the two of them together. Trevor had always been close to her mom—and her dad. He hadn’t been lying to her when he’d told her they were like parents to him when he’d been in college. He’d been around a lot back then, but back then she’d been wholly distracted by him because she’d had such a crush on him and hadn’t known how to act around him.

  Not that she had a better handle on that now. But maybe she was at least starting to figure out how to separate the professional from the personal.

  Today—last night—had been personal. When they started working on the interview again, it would be professional. It seemed they could both juggle it, which was a good thing.

  Her mind shifted to the professional. She wished he’d open up to her about his family. She wanted to know more about his childhood. Now that she’d met Zane, she was curious about his parents. Why didn’t he want to talk about them? Why wouldn’t he let her interview them? Part of a human interest story on an athlete was childhood background. It helped shape who that athlete was today. Trevor’s not talking about his parents was going to leave a giant gap in the story, and that didn’t sit right with Haven.

  As someone who cared about him, she took a step back. As a professional reporter, she was going to have to push him on this.

  She pondered it over breakfast, during which she and Trevor exchanged glances. She also noticed her mother shooting very knowing looks at both her and Trevor, so maybe their tryst last night hadn’t been as secret as she first thought. At least her mother was smiling whenever she looked her way.

  Then again, the last thing she wanted her mom to think was that she had some personal relationship going with Trevor, because it wasn’t a relationship.

  It was just sex. She was doing a good job compartmentalizing it there.

  Okay, maybe it was becoming more than just sex, at least to Haven. But she wasn’t going to allow herself to make it more than a fling, an interlude, something fun to do while she was on this assignment. She had enough to handle with getting her career on track and putting this whole grief nightmare to rest. Anything else would be too much.

  Trevor was too much, and he’d
made no indication he was even interested in a relationship. The last thing she wanted was to get hurt, and have more emotional turmoil to wrestle with.

  No, she was better off putting Trevor firmly in the “fun to have sex with” box and leaving him there. So when he turned his sexy grin in her direction, his eyes capturing her with their intensity, she put a lock on her heart.

  She could so easily get lost in him.

  She could so easily love him.

  ADMITTEDLY, TREVOR HAD FUN REVISITING HIS COLLEGE campus for the day with Haven and the camera crew. They met with both his football and baseball coaches and Haven conducted short interviews while they reminisced. It was great to catch up with the coaches. He also got to talk to a few of his teachers, who were kind enough to say nice things about him even though he knew he’d given them all headaches. He walked them around campus and showed them some of his favorite hangouts, and they went out on the football field. He even took a few passes from some of the current football team out on the field.

  That was fun, and Haven said they got some good shots. Now they wanted to do some interviews in town at some of his favorite local haunts.

  “Let’s stop there,” Haven said, pointing out a local luncheonette. “This is a familiar hangout for a lot of the sports teams. I called ahead, and Ralph said we could film inside.”

  Trevor grinned. “I haven’t had a cheeseburger in here in a long time.”

  “And it just so happens it’s around the lunch hour.”

  He gave her a sidelong look. “It’s like you planned it this way.”

  “It is, isn’t it,” she said with a waggle of her brows.

  Ralph had been the owner and manager of the luncheonette forever—at least according to Ralph. He was in his late sixties now, and beamed a smile at them as they walked in. Ralph looked like he ate at least two cheeseburgers a day, but he still had plenty of energy as he hurried from behind the counter with his arms outstretched to pull Trevor into a big bear hug.

  “Trevor Shay. It’s about time you showed your face here again.”

  “It’s good to be here. I’m hungry.”

  “Haven called and said you’d be coming in. I’ll put those burgers on right now. Still with grilled onions and pickles, no mustard?”

  The one thing everyone liked about Ralph was that once you became a regular, he never forgot your likes and dislikes. “Still the same.”

  Trevor and Haven made their way to the corner booth. It was just after the peak lunch crowd, so the place wasn’t as crowded as it normally would be, since most of the students would be back in class by now.

  Even Andy, the camera guy, ordered a cheeseburger and put the camera down while they ate.

  “Ralph makes the best fries you’ll ever eat,” Trevor told Andy.

  “This is truth,” Haven said, shoving two in her mouth.

  Andy agreed, and they enjoyed an interview-free lunch. Ralph even came over and sat with them, reliving old times, including Trevor’s junior year, when the team won the national championship. He pointed out a picture on the wall of the team. Trevor grinned, remembering when they’d all come in and signed that photo for Ralph.

  “It’s one of my prized possessions,” Ralph said.

  After lunch, Andy grabbed the camera, and Haven asked questions about the diner.

  “What makes Ralph’s a special memory for you?”

  “My roommates—Garrett Scott, Gray Preston, and Drew Hogan—we’d all hang out here when we didn’t have class or sports practice. The burgers are great, and all our friends would be here. It was a good spot.”

  “To meet girls?”

  Trevor grinned. “Well, that, too, but it’s off campus, and everyone from the college comes here. It’s a tradition. Me and the guys made it a point to meet here every Monday afternoon after practice. Unless one of us had a game, we were here.”

  He looked around, the memories as thick as gnats invading the field on a hot summer night. He could still see them all sitting in this very booth—younger versions of all of them—laughing like crazy, girls surrounding them. God, life had been great back then. “We’d sit here and plan out our futures, talk about where we were gonna be in ten years.”

  “And has it worked out the way you thought it would?”

  He looked at Haven. “Better in a lot of ways. I’m fortunate to be living my dream, playing in two sports. And I have your father—Bill Briscoe—to thank for much of that.”

  Haven paused for a second, giving him an unguarded glimpse of both her pain and her gratitude at his statement. “And why is that?”

  “Bill and Ginger Briscoe were the dorm parents for the sports dorm. But they were a lot more than that to all of us. To me. I struggled academically and emotionally. Bill was tough when I needed someone to be tough on me, and listened when I needed an adult to talk to. I wasn’t the easiest kid back then, but he really understood me. He gave me space when I needed it, and he sure as hell knew when to rein me in. I’m not lying when I say I wouldn’t be who I am today without him.”

  “Okay, let’s cut here,” Haven said, then turned to Trevor. “Thank you.”

  “Just stating the truth.”

  After thanking Ralph for the lunch and saying good-bye, they headed over to one of the bars. It wasn’t open yet, so they did an interview outside, where Trevor told some tales about some outlandish antics he and the guys had gotten into on some wild weekend nights after games. He had Haven and Andy laughing when he told them the story about sneaking a very drunken but just-a-month-from-age-twenty-one underage Drew out of the bar one night when the cops came in because the bar was over capacity. It had been a big win for the football team, so it seemed like everyone on campus had crowded into the bar that night to celebrate.

  “We threw him out the bathroom window.”

  Haven’s eyes had widened. “Did he get hurt?”

  “Nah. He landed on top of the Dumpster, then rolled off that and onto the ground in the alley. Then we hurried out the back and dragged him back to the car.”

  He could tell Haven fought to keep a straight face. “Poor Drew.”

  “He was fine. Drunks are very resilient.”

  They wrapped up and Andy left them back at the house. It was hard saying good-bye to Ginger, but Trevor had to get on a plane and head to Tampa. He had deadlines to make and he needed to get ready to play.

  He and Haven got in the car and made the drive back to St. Louis.

  “How do you think it went?” she asked as they drove along the turnpike.

  He turned to her. “How do I think what—oh, the interview stuff? Fine, I guess. How do you think it went?”

  “It’s good. Really good, Trevor.”

  He liked hearing the confidence in her voice, was happy to see her focused on work.

  “Trevor, this piece would be so rich if we could touch on your early family life, if we could talk to your parents.”

  He gripped the steering wheel. There was so much she didn’t know, so much about him—about his past and, hell, even his current life—that she was unaware of. Dipping into the past would only open old wounds and possibly expose his secret. That he would never do. It was too much of a risk. “No.”

  “I don’t understand. Is there something you’re ashamed of? A lot of players have ugly childhoods, you know. You’ve risen above it, become a success. We could—”

  “I don’t want to talk about this, Haven.”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  He shook his head, trying to keep his focus on the road. “Let’s not talk about this while I’m trying to drive. I need to focus.”

  “Okay.”

  He’d put her off, for now.

  But he knew she was going to bring it up again.

  And he was going to shut her down again.

  And he’d keep doing it.

  For his own preservation, and for the safety of the secret he’d held all these years.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  THE BALL SAILED THROUGH THE A
IR IN A PERFECT arc. Trevor never once took his eyes off it, though part of him recognized the safety on a path to his position. He dug in and pushed, racing to beat the corner to the first down line.

  He reached for the ball and it landed right at his chest. The safety slammed into him and pushed him out of bounds. Holding tight to the ball, Trevor rolled to the ground.

  The whistle blew, and Barrett Cassidy held out his hand. Trevor grabbed it and Barrett hauled him up.

  “A few more steps, I would’ve had ya,” Barrett said.

  Trevor laughed. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?” Trevor slapped Barrett’s helmet and the two of them trotted back to the line of scrimmage.

  “Good catch,” his coach said as the offense regrouped.

  It was a grueling practice. It might be early October, but in Tampa, it was still hot. Sweat dripped down Trevor’s neck, but he had to focus. He was playing catch-up with the team that already had played three games. They’d won two, lost the last one. He had to meet rookies and reinsert himself with his teammates again.

  Nothing he wasn’t used to, but it always took him a while to change gears from baseball to football.

  He caught sight of Haven walking the side of the field. Andy the camera guy was there, too, taking shots of him at practice.

  He hadn’t seen much of her since they’d gotten back to St. Louis. He’d packed up and grabbed a flight right away, while she’d stayed behind to finish up footage to send in to her studio.

  It had been three days. He’d missed her. He’d invited her to stay at his place, but she hadn’t answered him. She’d told him she was arriving today, so she must have come right to the field.

  He wanted some alone time with her, but damned if he knew when he was going to get it. That was why he was hoping she’d stay with him at the house.

  After practice ended, he stopped and talked to his coach, George, for a few minutes.

  “There’s a rookie tight end that wants your job this year,” George told him.