Game for Marriage Page 4

  Opening her eyes, their gazes met and held as he slowly, deliberately touched her. “Yes,” she breathed, spreading her legs wide as he stroked her.

  She sounded lost. Shit, he felt lost. To the way she responded, how she sounded, the hitch in her breath when he hit a particular spot. He watched her, unable to take his gaze off her pretty face, her gorgeous body. He wanted to take it slow, bring her pleasure over and over again, but he was already pushed close to the edge. This frantic need to possess her completely had him in a near stranglehold.

  Sheridan’s entire body tensed beneath his as he continued to touch her, increasing his pace, teasing her clit. She arched her back, her breasts trembling as she seemed to hold the position for long, agonizing seconds. “I’m gonna come,” she whispered, sounding surprised.

  “Come for me,” he whispered against her lips before he sealed his mouth onto hers to deliver a quick, tongue-thrusting kiss.

  That did it. She fell apart, intense shudders taking over her body, the way she cried out his name, squealed, and made all of those hot little noises testing his patience.

  He wanted inside her. Now.

  …

  Sheridan lay there in the middle of the bed, the aftershocks of her orgasm still coursing through her twitching body. Slipping off her panties, she let them drop to the floor. God, had she ever come that hard before? The way he’d touched her had been delicious enough. But what he’d said had made it even better.

  If she wasn’t careful, she could become addicted to him, and quick.

  Jared stripped out of his jeans, reaching into the back pocket to pull out his wallet, from which he withdrew a condom. She drank him in, a shivery sigh leaving her. His body was absolutely perfect. Like he’d been carved from marble, every muscle perfectly delineated, his biceps bulging as he shoved his underwear down his thick legs.

  Her eyes widened. Willow hadn’t been that far off in her description. “You’re huge.” Oh God, it was so hot, watching him put on the condom. He stroked himself once, twice, turned his head to catch her watching him, and she nibbled on her lower lip.

  This was without a doubt the best sexual experience of her life. And he hadn’t even been inside her yet.

  Jared rejoined her on the bed, his hot body settling over hers, his mouth swooping in for a soft, thorough kiss. “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out,” he teased, licking her bottom lip.

  “Definitely not.” She wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands drift down the smooth expanse of his back. His erection nudged against her belly, heavy and hot, and she lifted her hips, trying to encourage him. Rested her hands on his rock-hard ass, pushing down, wishing he’d get the hint.

  “Impatient?” He drew her lower lip between his teeth, releasing it before he kissed her. “We’ve got all night. And didn’t I just make you come?”

  The arrogant tone in his deep voice was absolutely delicious, making her tremble. “I think you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

  “Never.” He kissed her again, his tongue lazily tangling with hers, his hips thrusting against her. “Learn patience, baby. All in good time.”

  She wanted to punch him. Patience her ass. He was trying to drive her insane. “I want you inside me, Jared.”

  “Mmm, I want to be inside you, too.” He reared up onto his knees, gripping the base of his cock with one big hand. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her closer and she settled her legs on either side of him, her feet braced against the mattress, the pink heels digging in. She felt incredibly sexy wearing only the shoes and nothing else. A giant man nestled between her legs, his smoldering gaze drinking her in while he slowly penetrated her with his cock.

  Never in her life had she done anything like this. Get drunk with a famous man, tell him she wanted to get a motel room and get naked with him. Then actually go through with the deed.

  It was…exciting, doing something so completely out of her comfort zone. Letting herself go and, for once in her life, doing something completely self-indulgent. It had been nothing but work, work, work and this was liberating. Letting go. Having begged a man to make her come while wearing her pink stilettos, his busy fingers beneath her panties.

  “Damn, you feel good,” he murmured as he sunk deep within her. He moved slowly, the delicious friction of his cock pushing inside her before the equally delicious withdrawal nearly making her eyes cross.

  “Faster,” she whispered, excited by the way he clenched his jaw, the strain in his neck. As if he was holding everything back. She’d rather he unleash that power all over her. “Please, Jared.”

  Her words seemed to drive him on and he increased his pace. He stretched out over her, his face pressed against her neck, his tongue licking her skin. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the moans emanating from her unable to be contained and she knew—she couldn’t freaking believe it but she knew—she was close to coming again.

  The man was some sort of miracle orgasm fairy, delivering them with shocking ease.

  “Yeah, come for me,” he encouraged because he knew. Of course, he knew. One time with Jared and it was as if he already owned her.

  She did come for him. Just like that. She’d read romances where men demanded the orgasm and the women gave it over with ease. She always called bullshit on those scenes.

  Turned out she’d just been doing it with the wrong men.

  Jared rode her hard and fast through her orgasm, relentlessly seeking his pleasure, not stopping until he groaned her name so loud she was afraid everyone in the entire motel could hear him.

  He collapsed on top of her, burying his face between her neck and shoulder as his body shuddered and shook with the intensity of his orgasm. She stroked his sweat-dampened hair, savoring the sensation of his big body wrapped all around hers.

  Jared Quinn was a masterful lover. She wondered how long she’d have to wait until they could do that again.

  Sheridan slipped on her skirt and pulled on her shirt. Not wanting to waste any more time getting out of there, she tossed her bra into her purse, having given up finding her panties. They were long gone.

  Weird.

  Stepping into her shoes, she glanced back at the bed. The giant man sprawled across it, lying on his stomach, the sheet draped across his fine ass, everything else exposed. That could be a picture in itself, she thought, her fingers literally itching to grab her cell and snap a quick photo.

  No way could she do that, though. She wasn’t going to invade his privacy. She wasn’t that much of a bitch.

  So the only memento from the best night of her life would be her memories. The way Jared kissed her, touched her, moved inside her.

  Sighing, she went to the side of the bed, wishing she could stay. No way would he show up at her studio later, would he? She doubted it. Her leaving while he slept would piss him off.

  But she had to do it this way. Otherwise, she’d fall for him a little more. And that would be a disaster.

  Sheridan leaned over him and brushed a kiss to his forehead, breathing deeply his lingering cologne, a unique, slightly woodsy scent. And then she slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind her. Sneaking off in the early morning toward the convention center parking lot, where she could climb into her car, drive back to her apartment, and nurse her wounds before heading to the studio.

  Because she’d been irrevocably changed by one Mr. Jared Quinn.

  Chapter Four

  The ringing bell above her studio door at precisely nine o’clock was the first indication things were about to get weird.

  Pushing away from her desk, she emerged from her studio space to find a slick-looking suit-wearing guy striding toward her, a pleasant smile on his face.

  “Hey, Sheridan, great to meet you. I’m Harvey Price, publicist for the San Jose Hawks.” Mr. Slick stuck his hand out toward her, startling her by knowing her name. “Jared told me all about you.”

  She shook Harvey’s hand, her tired brain trying to process what he just said. “Nice to meet you. Um, so Jared
told you about me?”

  “He sure did. All good things, of course.”

  The bell rang again and in walked the man in question.

  Riveted to the very spot she stood, she drank Jared in, shock coursing through her at having him here. She couldn’t believe he’d shown. And why did he bring the publicist?

  Jared approached her, wearing low-slung jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that had a small Hawks emblem embroidered on it. His hair was still damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and he looked a little tired but still gorgeous. Whereas she was sure she looked like absolute ass. “Hey, Sheridan.”

  “Hi.” Did he hate her for ditching him? She’d felt sorta rude for doing it but, God, she had to make her escape. She’d probably still be naked, in that bed, wrapped around him if she hadn’t.

  “Got somewhere we can talk a little more privately?” Harvey flashed a suspicious smile and she wondered what he was up to. Had Jared brought the publicist for damage control purposes? God, had someone found out about last night’s steamy encounter?

  “We could go to my desk. I’ll grab some chairs.” She nodded toward her studio in the back of the building. “Follow me.” Nerves clanged in her belly as the two men fell into step behind her. She could literally feel Jared’s presence. Overwhelming. Intoxicating.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re here,” Harvey said the moment both men sat across from her. He grinned, his teeth brilliantly white. “I must confess, I’ve done some research this morning and I like you, Sheridan Harper. I like you a lot. And I know all about your situation.”

  She frowned. “My situation?”

  “Business has been a little slow lately, right? And you’re sitting on this amazing piece of property directly on Ocean Avenue.” He glanced around, taking in the tiny studio space. “I’m sure you’re offered all sorts of money for this spot on a weekly basis.”

  More like daily. Everyone wanted to put in an offer on her studio, but she refused them all. “It’s not for sale,” she mumbled.

  “Oh, I understand. Sentimental value and all that.” Harvey waved his hand. He probably didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. “What if we made you an offer you couldn’t turn down? One that would ensure you could keep your quaint little studio and grow your business. Plus, you’d get an inordinate amount of publicity, which could really put your work as an artist on the map. Everyone would know who you are, Sheridan. And I mean everyone in this entire country, possibly even the world.”

  Her heart rate picking up, she glanced in Jared’s direction, seeing a stoic, noncommittal expression on his face. An eerie vibe slithered down her spine and she wondered what the heck was up. “What are you talking about?” she asked Harvey.

  Leaning toward her, his dark eyes met hers, his expression serious. “I’ll tell you, but you have to sign a non-disclosure form first.”

  “Oh, give me a fucking break,” Jared muttered, shaking his head.

  She looked from one man to the other, and watched as Harvey pulled a folded piece of paper from within his jacket and handed it to her, accompanied by a slender silver pen. “Sign it and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Sheridan unfolded the crisp, cream-colored piece of paper, glancing over the brief paragraph that basically stated Jared Quinn would sue the pants off of her if she so much as breathed a word of what they were about to discuss. Which only intrigued her more.

  Curiosity had always killed the cat. She had to know what this was about. Without hesitation she clicked the pen and signed the blank line with a flourish.

  Harvey schooled his expression, seriousness emanating from him in palpable waves. “Jared needs your help, Sheridan. His image is in tatters, and the new owner of the San Jose Hawks is most displeased with the entire team and what they seem to represent.”

  Oh. Everyone knew Charlie Monroe was tough on the football team he’d purchased not even a year ago. The Monroe family had lived in the area for generations and was highly regarded among the Pebble Beach society. He was an entrepreneur, and had made even more billions with the family money by investing it in real estate and some of the best restaurants in the area. It had been shocking, Monroe’s latest investment being a football team. A Super Bowl-winning team, of course, for nothing less would do for Monroe.

  But now that he was the owner, Monroe was desperately trying to clean up the football team’s image so it matched more closely to the rich folks who lived near him. “I don’t understand what that has to do with me,” she said slowly. How could she upgrade Jared’s image? She didn’t come from a well-known family. Heck, she was an only child of a single mama who still struggled to make a buck.

  “I don’t know if you heard about his recent…scandal.” Harvey rested his arms on the edge of the table, his expression completely neutral. “An ex-teammate’s wife was photographed sitting on Jared’s lap while at a nightclub in San Francisco. She claimed they engaged in sexual activity that night.”

  Ah. Now she remembered.

  “Nothing happened.” This came from Jared, his rumbling, angry voice washing over her, setting her skin all tingly. “But they blasted the damn pictures all over the web, television. It didn’t help Wallace’s wife couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Sources claim I broke up their marriage.”

  Sheridan’s jaw dropped open. Wow. Did he? Was he having an affair with the wife, and then the husband—and former teammate—found out? Ouch. That was ugly.

  God, and she’d had sex with him. What if he was a world-class cheater?

  “I wasn’t involved with her,” Jared said, seriousness reflected in his gaze. “I was at a club, she came and talked to me. Sat on my lap for a bit before I realized who she was and pushed her away. She took off laughing.”

  Sheridan blinked, unsure of what to say. She wanted to believe him. Knew he had a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man, but she’d never heard him referred to as a married-ladies’ man.

  A homewrecker.

  “What with the scandal, Jared’s on the verge of losing his endorsements,” Harvey continued. “We need to clean up his image fast. That’s where you come in.”

  “Um, I’m not sure how I could help with that.” She shrugged, reaching for the bottle of water she always kept on her desk, bringing it close to her lips to take a swallow.

  “Well, you could marry him. That would help tremendously.”

  …

  Harvey smiled serenely while Sheridan choked on her water.

  Jared felt sorry for the woman. Based on her reaction, she hadn’t expected that suggestion now, had she? Neither had he, when they made it to him immediately after the Craig and Tabitha Wallace scandal had broken.

  “A new image,” they’d said. No more revolving door of women, no more hanging out at nightclubs and bars—the easy going, sex-me-up quarterback needed to disappear, though that man had been disappearing for a while. “You need a wife,” Harvey had said. His agent Gwen had agreed. At the very least, he should have a steady girlfriend on his arm that looked at him adoringly and made him seem like a soft and sweet guy.

  But a wife would be preferable, since he’d allegedly broken up a marriage, the both of them had said, their heads bobbing in agreement. It would show he respected the institution of marriage, make everyone forget he was a supposed adulterer. That meeting had happened a week ago and sent him reeling. A freaking fake wife? Who did that sort of shit? Yeah, he’d heard the Hollywood rumors but never did he think they’d ask him to do something so drastic.

  So when Harvey called him first thing that morning, disturbing the most amazing dream of Sheridan riding him for all he was worth, the look of pleasure on her pretty face driving him crazy, he’d growled into the phone. Figured the woman he’d been dreaming of was still asleep in bed with him.

  She hadn’t been. At first, he’d gotten pissed. Then he became intrigued. Why’d she run? They never ran. They always stuck around and wanted more than he could give.

  Harvey’s confirmation that Sheridan Harp
er was the perfect candidate for his potential wife had Jared reluctantly agreeing to it. He didn’t want to leave the Hawks. No way could he leave the area. He’d grown up in Monterey, had played his entire life here with the exception of his college years. The San Jose Hawks was the closest NFL team to his hometown. He’d do anything to stay. And there they sat. Trying to convince her.

  “You—you must be kidding,” she sputtered once she found her voice. Her cheeks were red, her golden gaze narrowed. She shook her head, her low ponytail causing her hair to tease against the elegant length of her neck.

  Jared couldn’t blame her. The entire thing was preposterous. This was what his life had turned into. A freaking circus sideshow, and he’d become the main event. Ridiculous.

  “You really want a pretend marriage?” she asked as she grabbed her bottle of water and drained it.

  “They’re ready to push me out the door if I so much as step into a nightclub, let alone if any more tabloid articles are written about me.” It had been a major risk, taking Sheridan to the motel last night. He still wondered what the hell had possessed him.

  Wait. She had possessed him. Still did.

  “Charlie Monroe doesn’t want to lose his star quarterback, but he has no problem kicking Jared to the curb if he doesn’t straighten up and fly right. Especially with the Golden Boy nipping at his heels,” Harvey explained with a sneer. “He needs your help to keep him here in Monterey.”

  Great. Now Harvey mentioned Flynn Foley, the Hawks’ second-string quarterback. Everyone loved Flynn. Hell, Jared loved Flynn, when he wasn’t hating him for being such a damn good player. He’d started at Arizona State, was an Arizona native, and at every home game he played last season, the sun had shone bright and clear the entire time, a rarity in Monterey Bay. Hence, Flynn’s nickname of Golden Boy.

  Jared envied him with everything he had.

  Sheridan turned to him. “You’ll marry someone to improve your image, no questions asked?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not a big believer in the institution of marriage.” That wasn’t a lie. His mother had bailed when he was a toddler and never looked back. His poor father had been left to shoulder the responsibility of a young and overly active boy who alternately filled him with pride and drove him crazy.