Quarterback Draw
Page 44“Yeah, and the frigid cold shrinks your balls to the size of peas.”
She laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that part. But cold is good for your skin.”
“Whatever you say. I’m not a fan.”
“Baby.”
He shot her a glare. “Hey. I’m a tough guy. I can play three hours of football in New England or Green Bay—in January. You try that.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Please. Try posing in nothing but a skimpy bikini for six hours on a boat in Nova Scotia with below-zero windchills. And then you have to give the camera hot, smoldering looks while you’re covered in goose bumps and your lips are turning blue, but you can’t shiver because the photographer will get pissed and you know damn well if you screw up the shot he’ll make you stand out there an hour longer just to make you suffer. And he doesn’t give a shit because he’s all wrapped up in warm winter gear.”
He stared at her. “Okay, you win.”
“Damn straight I win.”
“That really happened?”
“You give a good insight into what it’s like being a model. You work your ass off, but you’re right—people think it’s all glamour.”
She appreciated that he understood how hard she worked.
He dipped down into the water, then came up and dragged his fingers through his hair.
Could the man possibly look any sexier? Water dripped over his shoulders and torso, making her want to draw close to him and swipe her hands over him. Maybe rub against him a little.
Good God, what was wrong with her? She saw sexy, wet men all the time on the job. Grant was nothing new.
Except she wasn’t at work, and every time she was around Grant she had some weird chemical response to him. Her nipples tightened, her feminine parts clenched, and all she could think about was sex.
Maybe that wasn’t so bad. She’d never thought about sex much. Wasn’t it high time she did?
No. It wasn’t. She had way too much going on in her life to think about herself. But then Grant moved into her and swept her hair away from her face, and every part of her tingled with awareness. They were alone. The kids were back in New York, and she had free time tonight.
She could have him.
But if she did, it would change everything.
Was she ready for this? Would she ever be ready for it?
“Do you want to get out of the water now? I can make us some dinner.” He slid his hand down her arm. Touching her came so easy to him. Why wasn’t it easy for her?
She was as confused as ever. She knew what she wanted, and it had nothing to do with dinner. All she had to do was reach for it—for him—and she knew she could have him. The way he looked at her, the desire she read in his eyes was so clear.
Being with him was so simple. It should be simple, yet the difficulties it represented were monumental, at least to her. She felt frozen with indecision.
Until Grant tipped her chin with his fingers, forcing her eyes to meet his.
She read such certainty in his eyes. He knew exactly what he wanted as he dipped his head and paused, their lips only a fraction of an inch from each other.
He hovered so close his breath sailed across her lips. She wished she had that level of confidence, wished she could just fall into this so easily, without her mind going off in a million directions and thinking of the consequences.
Her nails dug into his arm and she tossed those consequences aside. “I want this. Kiss me.”
His lips met hers and she sank into the sweet sensation of his mouth moving over hers. She breathed him in and let her hands snake up his arms, enjoying the feel of a very tall, powerful man pulling her against his body.
They stood in the water, torso to torso, her heart beating a crazy rhythm as her pulse rate flew out of control. Grant swept his hands down her back and she moaned as he deepened the kiss. When he cupped her butt, she knew right then that whatever he wanted, she wouldn’t deny him.
This was what she’d dreamed about for so long, what she’d held back from out of fear and a sense of responsibility. All these years it had been everyone else’s needs taking a front seat. Now it was her turn and she wanted this.