Forward Passes (Seattle Lumberjacks) (13 page)

“I—I—just because.” Anger rumbled through her like a thunderstorm through a wheat field. “Don’t go psycho-analyzing me, Harris.”

He snorted and pointed at his chest. “Me? I’m too stupid and shallow for something requiring insight into other people’s feelings.”

“Yeah, you’re just a dumb jock.” She volleyed his words back at him.

“It’s hard work being bitter.” He spiked the ball, almost laying her out on the court.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She came back at him, fearing she’d lost the battle.

“It means you and your grandmother put way too much energy into hating your father. If you really were indifferent, you wouldn’t give a shit about him or waste any energy on him.”

“You are so wrong.” Lavender backed away, needing a moment to regroup. Tyler’s words hit home. Hard. Too hard. She skirted around the opposite side of the bar. She didn’t like talking about
her family
. Unfortunately, she couldn’t steer clear of the quarterback when she went to pour a beer, since he was sitting right in front of the taps.

“Your grandmother is a control freak.” He just couldn’t seem to let it drop.

Lavender shrugged one shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“For example, you love animals, but you don’t have any pets in your house, not a dog, not a cat, not even a fish because of her.”

Lavender swallowed but couldn’t respond past the lump in her throat. She missed having an animal to keep her company on those endless lonely nights. Animals had always been her family, her comfort, her port in any storm. They loved her without condition and were always there.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“It’s her house. I have to live by her rules if I want to rent it.”

“Aw, come on. She could cut you some slack. She’s your grandmother.”

“Stop it.” Lavender’s stomach churned. She threw the bar rag on the counter and made her rounds of the tables. Her grandmother might be a little obsessive, but she had a right to be. Maybe others found it odd that she and her grandparents didn’t have anything to do with her brother, but he’d betrayed them in the worst possible way.

Nobody understood. If they did, she wouldn’t get this kind of feedback from people. She loved her grandmother, and her grandmother loved her. Doris Mead had always been there for her. She couldn’t say the same for her father. Even when he’d still been with her mother, football consumed his every waking hour.

She hated all this talk about her father. It put her on the defensive, made her feel guilty for God knows what. She’d done nothing wrong. Brian Gerloch deserted them, left them almost destitute.

Tyler Harris did not fit that mold. Now he was asking too many questions, as if her family mattered to him. They didn’t. They couldn’t. She knew just the thing to stop this invasion of her personal affairs—another kind of affair. He’d forget his own name when presented with a warm, willing woman ready to engage in a little hard riding.

Casting a sultry look his way, Lavender sashayed closer. Tyler met her halfway, stepping into her space.

“This isn’t supposed to get personal, jock boy.” She lowered her voice a sexy octave and watched his eyes go from sky blue to midnight blue. Tyler leaned into her and licked his lips. He didn’t touch her, allowing her to take the lead.

“Hey, get a room you two,” Homer yelled from across the room.

Lavender jumped back. Her pale skin burned as red as a fire engine. Tyler took longer to recover. Finally, he shook his dark head and tipped back on the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots. “Tonight, after everyone’s gone, you’re at my mercy.”

“No, you’re at my mercy,” she countered, salivating at the thought of being in control of this powerful, muscular hunk of testosterone.

“Is that a promise?” Tyler didn’t even blink, instead he looked intrigued.

“For once I’m going to run the show.”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.” He ran a finger over her lips, and she shuddered. With a wink, he sauntered off to join the Brotherhood at a table across the room.

* * * * *

Despite being past their bedtime, the old codgers stuck around long enough to beat Tyler at three hands of pinochle before they finally tottered out the door. Once the door clicked shut behind the final geriatric, Tyler tipped his chair back on two legs, crossed his arms over his chest, and enjoyed the view. Lavender sped around the room, vacuuming, wiping tables, cleaning the counter, essentially putting everything in order for the night. Her ponytail swung as she walked, keeping rhythm with the swaying of her fine ass. Pretty soon Tyler would be grasping two handfuls of that ass as he buried himself deep inside Vinnie’s soft heaven. His cock hardened in response. He leaned forward and the chair legs clunked as they hit the floor. He tapped his foot impatiently on the worn hardwood floor.

Lavender finished the last of her closing chores and headed for the door with Tyler on her heels. He held the door open for her but blocked the doorway. She pushed on his chest. He didn’t budge.

“It’s been too long, purple lady.” Tyler leaned in, caught a whiff of lavender, and leaned closer. He slid his hands down her sides and rested them on her hips. Damn, but she felt so fu—flipping good. Everything he’d ever dreamed of wrapped up in one fiery little package. He pulled her against his body, cupping her ass in the palms of his hands. He picked her up, sliding her along his length until her face came level with his. Her red lips parted, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. Her pink tongue flicked out and moistened her lips.

Tyler groaned and bent his head to sample those lips and tongue for himself. He’d always loved kissing as foreplay, but kissing Lavender took the act to an entirely different level. He gave her more than he ever gave with other women, even Cass. At first it might have been the challenge, the mutual dislike, the great chemistry. Maybe it still was all that and more. She drove him wild with an irrational need he couldn’t explain, nor did he want to. She made him
feel
. And for a man who’d been buried in smothering apathy this past year, he embraced feelings of any kind, especially those which awakened his passion for life.

Slave to a different type of passion, Tyler backed Lavender against the doorframe. Her mouth opened for his tongue as she sucked on it. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the feelings rampaging through his body, his head, hell, even his big toenail. His brain shut down for the night since he wouldn’t be needing it. He had all he needed right here wrapped up in this little red-headed dynamo.

Fingers digging into his scalp, she pulled him closer, held his mouth to hers. Their bruising kisses only sent the flames higher. Tyler resuscitated a miniscule portion of his common sense and dragged his hungry mouth away from his purple lady’s equally hungry mouth. Panting and turned on beyond sanity, he slid her body back down his until her feet touched the ground. His cock demanded immediate satisfaction, nothing new there. His boy was legendary for its impatience, but it’d have to hold out a little longer. Wrapping an arm around Lavender’s shoulders, Tyler waited while she shakily locked the door. She fumbled with the keys twice. He swallowed a smirk, smugly satisfied with his power to rattle her.

Heady stuff.

“Your place or mine?” He dangled his keys from his index finger.

“Yours, you have a four-poster bed.” Her eyes sparkled with little flecks of gold, which he’d only seen when she was aroused.

“Hmmm. So tell me why you need a four-poster bed.” The mental images were killing him.

Lavender regarded him for a moment. He stood on the sidewalk, one hand on the side of the brick building as he leaned against it. His casual pose didn’t disguise the barely reined-in sexual energy radiating from his every pore.

“You’re being punished. I’m in charge, jock boy, just go with the flow.”

“Oh, yeah, I will. I definitely will.” He pushed off the wall, grabbed her hand, and headed for the truck. His long strides ate up the ground. She ran to keep up. In a few minutes, she’d be calling the shots, and they wouldn’t be hurrying anywhere, which was just fine with him.

Chapter 15

Stripped of the Ball

Standing in the doorway to Tyler’s bedroom, Lavender scrutinized the gorgeous jock with a practiced eye; at least she hoped it looked that way. Either he forgot who was in charge or he didn’t give a shit, he stepped toward her with indecent intentions—the best kind—except tonight was her night. She’d be the one with the indecent intentions.

Lavender held up a hand to back him off. “Not so fast buster, I make the moves. You comply. Got it?”

She held her breath, waiting to see if he’d actually submit. His blue eyes burned into her, sizzling every nerve-ending and rendering her momentarily speechless, which didn’t happen often, if at all. His proud stance spoke volumes. The man craved rebellion, walked the unbeaten path, and lived to be his own man and no one else’s.

She waited him out, hoping he’d play along.

With a slight nod of his head, Tyler held his hands out, palms up in a surprising gesture of submission. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up until they formed a full-blown grin. Surrendering control to her didn’t seem to set him back in the least or compromise his manhood. She smiled back. Something to be said about a sexually adventurous man. In fact, a lot to be said.

“Strip and get on the bed.” She faked her best dominatrix voice, not that she knew what a dominatrix sounded like, but Tyler stayed on task and didn’t challenge her authenticity.

“Yes, ma’am.” His clothes went flying until he bared his body in all its hard muscled nakedness. He might be playing along, but she got the distinct feeling that ultimately she wasn’t the one in control.

Her gaze dropped to his body. Long, lean muscles bulged in his calves and thighs. Slender hips, a tight butt, and a flat stomach came next. Not to mention that cock. She hesitated and licked her lips then forced her gaze higher, following the trail of chest hair past his six-pack abs to his sculpted chest and widening to broad shoulders. A strong neck led to a hell of a chiseled face framed with thick, unruly dark hair. Nature didn’t make men better than this. Not a pretty boy, but a man’s man, ruggedly handsome and sexually charged. And all hers, at least for the night.

Lavender cleared her throat and rubbed her sweaty hands on her jeans. Her labored breathing stuck in her throat.

“You’re supposed to be a little nervous. A little afraid. Get it?” Her voice cracked and betrayed who was actually nervous. She slapped her hand against her thigh for effect. His mouth quivered, as if he was suppressing a grin.

“Yes, mistress, your wish is my wet dream.” Those rebellious blue eyes followed her every movement and contradicted his compliant stance.

Lavender sighed. The man was so not playing his part. “Puhlease. A little uncertainty, insecurity.” She snapped her fingers. His eyes sparkled with devilment.

“I don’t do insecurity or uncertainty.” He blew her a kiss.

“You must place your body in my hands.”

His grin grew wider. “Absolutely, Mistress L.” He hopped on the bed and lay on his back, spread-eagled. His cock stood up ramrod straight and hard, ready to be called into action. “Take me. I’m ready to be abused.”

Lavender rolled her eyes, but her heart rate broke the sound barrier. “Do you have any equipment here?”

He pointed at his cock. “Honey, I have all the equipment you’ll ever need right here.”

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and shook a finger at him. “You know what I mean, you’re being insolent.”

“Bottom drawer on the bureau.” The man didn’t bother to ask what type of equipment.

Why was she not surprised? Lavender pulled open the drawer and stared. “You have to be kidding? You brought all this stuff from the mainland?”

“It’s my seduction kit. Never leave home without it.” He shifted his hips on the bed and put his hands behind his head.

“Seduction kit? Seriously? Where did this come from?”

“I ordered it a day after I met you.”

“Presumptuous of you.” This man needed to be taught a lesson, and she was just the woman to do it, assuming he let her.

“I prefer to call it industrious and efficient. Oh, and also confident.”

“I’d call you obsessed, opportunistic, and cocky.”

He shrugged. “There’s an outfit in there for you, assuming you want to immerse yourself in your role.”

“Immerse, huh?” Most likely she’d be the one drowning, not him.

“Yeah, I’ve been reading the dictionary in my spare time.”

“You can read?”

“Naw, someone reads it to me.” A gray cloud dimmed Tyler’s sparkling eyes, but it passed as quickly as it came. The man didn’t like references to his dumb jock status one bit, even though he perpetuated the myth.

“Good. I wouldn’t want to ruin my image of you.”

“Never happen. I’m simple. It’s all about sex with me.” Again, that flicker of something. Lavender looked away, refusing to give credence to her suspicions.

She held up a small leather outfit, complete with boots. “You are prepared. I’m impressed.”

“Not as impressed as you’ll be by the time the night ends.”

A rogue wave of excitement rippled through her body. Exiting to the bathroom, Lavender pulled off her clothes and stepped into the little number. Leave it to Tyler. The thing was barely there, emphasis on barely. A pair of thin leather suspenders covered her hardened nipples and not much else. The suspenders wrapped around her neck then came together below her belly button. A small strip passed between her legs and between both ass cheeks. A band around her waist held up the back. Oh, yeah, it was sexy and a size too small, an oversight she’d bet her booty was intentional.

The feel of the leather rubbing against her crotch caused her pussy to weep with anticipation. She pulled on the high-heeled leather boots, examined herself in the mirror, then sashayed into the bedroom.

“Holy crap!” Tyler shot up in bed, forgetting his subservient status.

“Don’t move.” She pointed at him. “Or you’ll be punished.”

“What if I want to be punished?” His pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared. His cock waved in the breeze, not that there was a breeze.

“Just play along.” He was so not getting this.

“Okay, fine. Please, please, don’t punish me.” He spoke with absolute insincerity and laughed out loud.

“Don’t give up your football career to be an actor.”

He said nothing, just perused her body like the connoisseur he was.

Lavender returned to the bureau and pulled out a flogger. “You use this?”

“Honey, I’m pretty much game for anything. I told you that. I don’t have many scruples when it comes to sex.”

“None?”

“Well, very few. Have it your way.” He spread his arms wide. “Make me hurt so good.”

Digging through the drawer, she removed four sets of pink-fur-lined handcuffs, still in the packaging. She ripped them open, littering the hardwood floor with the cardboard. Leaning over the bed, she clicked the first cuff in place over Tyler’s big wrist—it barely fit—then fastened it to the four-poster bed. Tyler didn’t seem to mind the pink, not one bit. She fastened the other wrist and both legs to the bed, spread-eagled, and rendering him helpless. Well, helpless as long as he played along. She’d no doubt he could break the handcuffs if he wanted with one flick of his wrist. This game wasn’t about physical control but mental control.

Crawling onto the bed, the mattress sagged a little under her weight. Tyler glanced down at the flogger and back at her face. They locked gazes momentarily. She dragged the flogger over his body. He shivered and closed his eyes, as if at her mercy, but she knew better. Tyler Harris would never be at anyone’s mercy. His entire body tensed, but he held stock still, as if he feared any movement would make her stop. Lavender rolled the flogger around in her hands. She’d never really used anything like this, but her naughty girl took over.

Lavender slid the leather lashes of the whip over his cock, and it jerked in response. Moving it back and forth, she caressed his erection and balls with the leather strands. He groaned and tossed his head back and forth on the mattress. She brought the whip up and lightly slapped his flat stomach in the vicinity of his navel. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Aww, damn, that feels good.” Tyler flexed his hips and thrashed on the bed.

Gathering her courage, she adjusted her stance and slapped the strands across his upper thighs and over his cock. Lightly, but it had to sting, at least a little.

“Harder.” He spoke through gritted teeth, but she doubted it was because of the minor pain she’d inflicted. Closing her eyes—she’d never make a good dominatrix—she struck him again, but it was a pansy-assed strike at that. He gasped and growled like a wolf challenging his mate. How she loved a feral man.

“Harder.” Tyler ground out the words with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Beads of sweat stood out on his body. His chest rose and fell as he writhed on the bed. He tugged on his restraints. His eyes rolled back in his head. His cock grew bigger, more rigid, if that was even possible. Tyler fisted his hands and braced himself.

Lavender considered her options. So far she’d played right into his plans, given him what he’d asked for. Sitting back on her haunches, she perused his body with the expertise of a dedicated window shopper. “No.”

He snapped his head up and stared at her incredulously. “Why not?”

“Because you want me to.” Lavender brushed him with the flogger, refusing to strike him, and turned him into a writhing, groaning mass of lust and muscle. She feared he would come right then and there. She watched him fight to control his body’s reaction, feeling a bit evil and a lot naughty.

“Aww, man, you are tough.”

“Don’t you dare come until you’re buried inside me.” Lavender closed her eyes for a moment, fantasizing about the very moment he’d fill every empty corner of her body and soul.

“I’m trying not to. You’re good. You ever done this before?” His voice was thick with passion and tight from the strain of holding back. The veins stood out on his neck, while his cock twitched as if demanding some satisfaction.

“Nope. I’m winging it.” Lavender grinned and traced the flogger across his balls and up his cock to the tip. She drew circles on the bulbous head until a few drops of pre-cum appeared.

“Damn. You’re a natural, Vin.”

“Thanks, I think.” She bent down. Tyler held his breath, still as a bronzed statue of a Greek god. Her red hair grazed his stomach, his abs, his pecs. She tasted his body from his neck to his belly button. The man exerted incredible self-control as she did her best to bring him to the brink then yank him back from the edge. His magnificent body was strung tight, rock hard and trembling.

She swirled her tongue in his belly button. He groaned and arched his back, biting down on his lower lip. When her mouth touched the velvety tip of his cock, he arched his hips and dug his heels into the mattress. After sucking off the bead of precum, she licked the soft flesh, tenderized by the flogger torture/pleasure.

He thrashed his head on the pillow and uttered a series of unintelligible grunts and groans. His body broadcast that his ability to control his desire was razor thin, and she did
so
want to feel his big cock inside her swollen pussy.

“Come here.” He beckoned her, his deep voice like a male siren song, reeling her in, pulling her toward her fate.

“You’re in no position to give orders.”

His blue gaze drilled into hers. “I could be in the right position in a second.” He tugged on the restraint on his left hand a few times to prove his point. The flimsy pink cuffs wouldn’t withstand his strength if he chose to end the game. Despite the illusion of her being in charge, he’d never relinquished control. She craved to hang onto that illusion a few more minutes. Evidenced by the fact that he didn’t break his bonds, he chose to let her. Her heart warmed at his selfless act, the type of gift she’d never have expected from a strong-willed, very male Tyler Harris.

“But you won’t.” Lavender pointed out that obvious fact since he hadn’t broken free. She’d give him a little taste of being the submissive partner, her own unorthodox gift.

Leaning across him, she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom packet. She tore open the package.

Tyler watched her, eyes shining with a raw hunger and something deeper than that. Her gaze lingered for a moment on his handsome face. So rarely did he allow anyone to see beyond his mask of bravado, yet he’d lowered it for the moment, let her see the man beneath, just a glimpse, a hint of who he really was. A soft smile spread across his face. She smiled back.

“Fuck me.” He whispered. His low, sexy voice weaved the spell of intimacy tighter, pushed the intensity higher. Lavender leaned down and sheathed his cock in a condom. Straddling his hips, she held the base of his cock with one hand and rested her other hand on his chest to balance herself. She lowered her body until the head of his cock brushed her pussy lips. Rubbing her pussy across the tip, she got as much enjoyment out of it as he did. He shifted beneath her, alternating between cussing and groaning. Tyler lifted his hips in an effort to push his cock deeper. Lavender raised up, avoiding penetration.

“Fuck me. Dammit,” he ordered, and the man was not in a position to order anything. He jerked on his bonds, ready to break them.