Quarterback Blitz

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An Excerpt From: QUARTERBACK BLITZ

Copyright © FRANCES STOCKTON, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

Chapter One

Anna's zipper was stuck!

No
matter how hard she tugged and contorted her tall frame into a pretzel, she
was stuck in her mascot's costume. Sweat covered her body, the sweltering
heat of the costume one of the reasons the head piece had a little fan to cool
her off when entertaining crowds. But the eagle's head and wings were
already off, sitting safely in their compartment in her little nook of the
cheerleaders' locker room.

The
gigantic team jersey that advertised the name and number of "The Beast" sat
in a heap at her feet. If she wasn't in a hurry, she might have laughed at
herself hopping up and down. She'd made birthday plans with some friends
and was supposed to meet them after the Alexandria Griffins Friday night
televised pre-season game. Her costume was proving difficult and something
she really didn't need right now.

She
wanted to go out and have some fun after watching the star of her midnight
fantasies perform on the field tonight. But Kyran
Black was hardly going to remember his encounters with a physical education
teacher from Baltimore.
Then again, the last time they'd met, she had been thirty-nine. That
changed when the alarm rang at seven o'clock this morning, reminding her
what day it was.

"Why
did I tell Tracey not to worry if I was late?" she asked herself, hopping
to and fro as she tried one more attempt at the zipper.

Sweaty
from her efforts, she headed out of her changing room and marched for the
locker room door, only to draw up short when the tall, dark bare-chested
rebel of her dreams charged inside.

Not
just any rebel. "The Rebel", Kyran Black,
the legendary quarterback recruited to calm down the high strung starter
for the Alexandria Griffins.

"Hey,
sugar." He flashed his devil-may-care smile, his clean shaven, chiseled
features all the more sexy when she noticed the crooked scar that ran down
the left side of his chin. Even when he smiled, the scar made it seem like
he was snarling. It was sexy as hell.

His
dark auburn hair fell damp and wavy to his broad shoulders. "You mind if I
hide in here with you?" he asked, leaning back against the door as if he
had all the time in the world.

Twin
Celtic tattoos wrapped around his massive biceps, making him look more like
biker than a professional athlete. Anna's pulse went into overdrive at the
memory of riding on his Harley. All that muscle and powerful, vibrating
engine had almost made her come.

"Depends
on what you're hiding from." Skeptical, she wrapped her arms over her
chest, giving him her best 'I'm the teacher. You're the kid without a hall
pass' impression.

Kyran's eyes swept her from head to toe. "A piranha with a microphone
wanted to know how I felt after tonight's game. I was damned lucky to pull
on my jeans before she rushed into the team locker room." He looked tired,
freshly showered and he'd donned a pair of worn button fly blue jeans with
holes here and there. The flash of his bare knee made her toes curl inside
her griffin's talons.

He was
six foot six inches of ripped, athletic muscle and shoulders that would
give Atlas a run for his money. His pectorals and six-pack abs were bare of
chest hair, letting her appreciate the fine line of auburn hair that dusted
his navel, thinning downward to disappear behind the top button of his
jeans.

He was
sex in faded blue jeans. But couldn't he have grabbed a shirt when he was
dodging the press? Or at the very least fastened all the buttons on his
fly?

Anna
wouldn't study the significant bulge behind those buttons. She wouldn't
notice the very nice, masculine scent that accompanied him or recall what
it was like to be plastered against that hard body, so close to having that
power and strength surging inside of her. Irish Spring soap and basic
shampoo did nothing for her, except make her pulse race and her slit clench
greedily for his attention.

She
told herself she was just horny. She hadn't had sex in awhile. Finding her
ex-fiancé in bed with a twenty year old grad student made her swear off men
for awhile. At least she'd thought she had until she agreed to join Kyran for coffee after a game last winter. He'd been
trying to ask her out few of times before that, but it wasn't until that
game when she started to believe he was really interested.

"If
you give the reporter a few words on tape she'll leave you alone," Anna
suggested when he showed no sign of leaving.

"Rather
not," Kyran said, his vivid gaze returning to her
face. "Isn't that costume hot?"

"Yes.
The zipper is stuck. Lend me a hand and you can stay until your piranha is
gone."

Kyran's dark blue eyes narrowed. "I'll help if you tell me why you're
pissed at me."

"I'm
not pissed, Mr. Black. Being trapped in this costume is the last straw in
the day from hell. I'd appreciate some help. I've places to go, things to
do."

His
mouth tightened and his brow lifted a fraction, sending white-hot lightning
zinging from her heart to her clit. "Got a hot date, Anna?" He inhaled
sharply, causing a trickle of arousal to slide down her inner thigh at his
display of possessiveness.

Well,
damn, he remembered her name. He just couldn't remember to give her a call
after she'd decided not to go home with him. She'd been a fool to believe
that he'd meant it when he said he wanted more than sex.

"Just
meeting some friends."

Kyran
watched her before pushing away from the door. Her heart tripped in her
chest. "Have to admit, never thought a griffin was sexy until I met you.
Tonight you were hot."

Bowing
her head to hide her heated cheeks, she edged toward him. "There's nothing
sexy about this costume. It's itchy. When the night is done, it's a relief
to take a shower. That's what I'd like to do," she said, giving him her
back.

"Don't
you have someone to help you with this sort of thing after a game?"

"I
share this locker room with the cheerleaders. Tonight they had a meeting. I
thought I could do it alone."

"Doing
it alone is never as much fun as with someone," Kyran
teased, placing his hands on her puffy lion shoulders. She could have sworn
she felt the heat of his touch though the foam and padding.

"Help or
get out of the way so someone else can," she growled, waiting.

"Remind
me never to stand in the way of your talons." He was trying to hide his
laughter. She could hear it in his deep, gruff-spoken voice that tempted
her to have raw sex with him right then and there.

"I'm
harmless," she said. "Please, help me."

"Okay,
okay, you have foam and material caught in the teeth of the zipper. How did
you manage to mangle it?"

"I was
in a hurry."

"Wouldn't
have been because you were avoiding me, right?"

"Ah,
no, you weren't on my mind at all." Ha, let him think that. "Tonight's a
special night. I've plans."

"Mhm, I'm curious. What are you wearing under this thing
anyway?"

The
change in questions made her jerk around to face him. "A dancer's leotard,
satisfied?"

"Hardly.
Now that I've got your attention, explain why you gave me a bogus phone
number after we went out."

"That's
your excuse? Ha, you're Kyran Black. If you
wanted to find me, you could have."

"I
tried, but didn't want to violate your privacy like that. Your home number
wasn't listed and your cell was no longer in service."

"That
can't be. I'd gotten a new cell earlier that day and--oh God." She just
might have given him the wrong phone number. "Okay, I admit I could
have given the wrong number. A lot happened to me that day, I was a little
distracted."

"What
do you mean?"

"I'd
just learned that I would be the Griffins mascot. I was on cloud nine. I'm
a gym teacher and my pay was cut. The money from this job was definitely
welcome. Talking with you in the parking lot was icing on the cake. My
favorite quarterback asked me out for coffee and I guess I was nervous
after what happened between us afterward and...I did not just say that, did
I?"

Kyran
smiled like he'd just won the championship game. "I'm your favorite
quarterback? Tell me more."

"And
feed your ego, I think not." Anna gave him her back again. "Fix the
zipper. You don't have to worry about my phone number anymore."

"After
your shower--"

"I
can't take a shower in this costume."

"We'll
talk," he continued. "Listen, I thought you'd brushed me off, but I did try
to find you. You wouldn't be the first woman scared away by what I do for a
living. Now that I know it was a mistake, can't we try to find out what's
between us?"

"There's
nothing between us."

"Like
hell there isn't. Come on, Anna, go out with me tonight. Don't you want to
see what it might be like not to stop this time?"

"How
about we call a truce? I'll let you avoid the press while I finish getting
dressed for the evening."

Kyran's hands brushed her back. Even through foam and fabric, she
could feel the strength of his hands. He was thirty years old in a game
dominated by younger talent and brutish defense and he could still stand in
the pocket and deliver before an opponent plowed him into the turf.

"Relax,
I'm not going to hurt you," he said when she trembled.

"Didn't
think you would," she murmured.

He
worked on the zipper for a minute and grunted in frustration. "Anna, don't
be mad if I tear this."

"Tear
it, I have a second costume. This one can be repaired."

"Can I
have a kiss when I'm done?"

"Don't
be ridiculous."

"Come
on, it's not every day I rescue a damsel in distress."

"I'm
not in distress. Fix it or I'll call for your piranha, hero."

"Ouch,
okay." He suddenly tugged hard, the fabric standing no chance against his
big, sure hands. "By the way, I'm getting that kiss when I'm done, Anna
James. You left me with a raging hard-on the last time we met. You owe me."

"Ha, I
don't owe you a thing. We had a ride on your Harley, two cups of coffee, a
nice conversation and a little flirtation. It was fun, but--"

"Don't
forget the two of us going at each other like a freakin'
freight train when I dropped you off." The fabric gave with another tug,
the metal teeth of the zipper giving way to his forceful jerks. "That
wasn't flirting."

"We
kissed, fooled around a bit, no big deal."

"Call
it whatever you want. I almost fucked you against your SUV." More tearing
followed and the suit loosened. Anna was so wet she knew her leotard was
soaked. "Don't kid yourself. We wouldn't have stopped if a security guard
hadn't driven by."

"Please,
Kyran. I don't know what came over me that
night," she whispered, embarrassed. They had made out like a couple of
teenagers caught between second and third base. He was right.

"Tell
me you didn't let me go that far with you because you're one of my fans."

"Never,
there was something between us that night, something amazing. The last
thing on my mind at the time was fame or football. At least not until the
security guard gave you two thumbs up."

"Did
you think that was staged?" Kyran's tearing had
stopped, the suit loose around her shoulders, allowing for some of the air
conditioning in the room to cool her off.

"No it
reminded me of who you were and who I was. I didn't want you to think I was
the kind of person who'd fuck someone just because he's famous."

Kyran
brushed the costume off her shoulders, pushing it to her elbows. "Turn
around, sugar. I want to know something."

"Don't
call me sugar," she argued, turning anyway. He was tall and big and sexier
than any man had the right to be. But he was thirty to her forty, and way
out of her league. "What do you want?"

"You,"
he said, his full, masculine mouth curved slightly up on the left side. The
overhead lights reflected his deep blue eyes and scar. He looked fierce,
like a predator. She was in serious trouble. Her heart pounded so fast and
hard she was certain he could hear it. "You knew that the last time we were
together, so why did you really give me the wrong phone number?"

Drawing
as tall as she could, she stared up at him. It wasn't every day she could
do that with a man. She was six feet tall. "I'd changed my service and
phone number earlier that day because a student stole my cell phone and
made a bunch of calls to a phone sex company. I was still trying to
remember the new number."

"And..."
he prompted.

"I was
afraid. I am sorry."

His
big hand came to rest beneath her chin, tilting her head back. "Afraid of
what?"

"You'd
said you wanted to go out with me before then, that you'd come to mascot
tryouts because of me. I was scared of what that meant, of being hurt when
you realized I was too old for you."

"We
talked for hours at that coffee shop, Anna. You were friendly, open-minded
and fun. You told me about teaching self defense to senior girls planning
to go to Ocean
City after
graduation. I admired you for that, remember? I didn't know you were a
football coach--"

"Assistant
coach," she interrupted.

"Right,
the point is I liked you, still like you. But yeah, I wanted to fuck you
from the moment I saw you. That doesn't happen every day, you get me?"

"Kyran...talk like that, it's not for me," she argued. "I
can count on one hand the men I've slept with and so far sex has been
pretty disappointing. Let's call it a night, okay?" There'd been three men,
but she didn't have to give him all the stats of her love life, or lack
thereof.

"I
can't. Anna, come home with me tonight."

Trembling,
she tried to finagle her way out of the suit. "I'm getting out of this
costume, taking a shower and leaving, alone."

"Thought
you had plans," he replied.

She
paused. "I do." What, exactly, was his point?

"Why
leave alone? I could join you."

"That's
not a good idea. It's a ladies night out sort of thing."

"Planning
to go to a strip club?"

"An
all male revue, so, yeah," she confessed.

"Hell
no you're not." Kyran frowned, letting the
costume fall to her feet and trap her in place.

Feeling
cornered, she lashed out at him. "It's my birthday. My friends and I want
to have some fun."

Kyran
had the audacity to glare, his sexy scowl making her slit so wet, she
feared he would see the wet spot on her leotard. She refused, absolutely
refused to squirm and give herself away. "If you think I'm going to sit
back and let you put dollar bills down some other guy's jockstrap, you're
wrong."

"Think
they wear g-strings or something to show off what they've got. It's not
every day a woman gets to appreciate a well-endowed man for her fortieth
birthday."

Kyran
growled, catching her about the waist. Her heartbeat slammed inside her
chest as he wrapped her closer and slanted his mouth over hers. She
wrestled him and her costume for all of about two seconds before parting
her lips and accepting his tongue.

He
didn't just kiss, he dominated. She ignited. His tongue mimicked the thrust
of his substantial, barely contained cock between her already damp thighs.
The thin, stretchy material of the leotard pulled taut against her slit,
causing her to gasp. He felt incredible, tasted like sin and mint and all
male heat. His deep groan promised he knew exactly what he was doing to
her, his hips pushing into her a little more.

He
drew her top lip between his teeth and feasted. "Damn," he murmured between
sucks and bites, frissons of sensation tickling her mouth. "I'd give my
left nut to fuck you right now." His tongue kept her from saying a thing.
All she could do was hang on and kiss him back.

With
superwoman effort, she finally managed to move him back a little. "We
can't. Dammit, this shouldn't be so hard!" she
cried out, aware that she'd parted her thighs as much as possible,
welcoming his jean-clad thrusts. She was thrusting right back at him, the
grind of his pelvis against hers mind boggling.

If
they kept grinding against each other, she'd climax. She was so close to
the edge, she wanted to scream with the need to take him inside of her.

"I'm
hard, Anna, been this way since I walked in here."

She'd
noticed. But she wouldn't feed his ego. She had to retreat, to think,
anything to keep from going too far too soon. "I'm not ready."

"Liar,
you've soaked your leotard. Let me get this off you," he tempted, grasping
the material at her shoulders and starting to tear.

"I
like slow, patient, vanilla sex."

"Can't
promise vanilla, but next time we'll go as slow as you want," he drawled,
his almost-buried southern accent coming back because he was turned-on.
She'd done this to him, made him want her.

Heady
with the reality of having Kyran seconds away
from getting her naked, she held her breath. The leotard gave without a
fuss, ripping down the center, her sports bra the only thing protecting her
modesty.

A
click at the door behind them brought his head up, his nostrils flaring.
"What the fuck was that?"

"I
don't know. Could have been security checking on us." Horrified at the
thought of what they must have looked like to a guard, or anyone else, Anna
wanted the floor to swallow them whole.

He
reluctantly let her go and went over to the door, looking out. "No one out
there, hallway's deserted."

He
turned back and grinned, reminding her of an ancient conqueror who'd
decided the fate of his captive as he closed the door again, leaning
against it to bar the way.

"What
are you doing?"

"I'm
alone with the sexiest woman I've known, and no one is the wiser. Security
won't interrupt us this time." He pushed away from the door, reminding her
of a predator, sexual confidence dominating the room. "I intend to make you
come on your birthday, many times."

"Stop
right there," she ordered when he stalked toward her.

The damned
costume and torn leotard hindered her for only a moment before she freed
herself and fled for her dressing room. Grabbing a football jersey and
holding it in front of her, she turned to find him right behind her.

"I'm
hot and sweaty. I'm not ready for sex games in the locker room with a super
stud," she said, gesturing toward the shower room. "I have about a half an
hour before my friends start to worry."

"A
little sweat doesn't bother me," Kyran claimed
with that wolfish grin.