Scoring

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Scoring ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Scoring Copyright © 2009 Mari Carr Edited by Kelli Collins Cover art by Syneca Electronic book Publication August 2009 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

SCORING

Mari Carr

Dedication This story is dedicated to the gals of International Heat. You ladies make me laugh and keep me plugging along with my writing!

Trademarks Acknowledgements The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Pro Silver Star Ltd. Super Bowl: NFL Enterprises LLC

Scoring

Chapter One “So you and me, this weekend, right Mel?” Tony asked as he leaned across the table and stole a potato chip from her tray. Melanie Ward sat up straight and turned to her friend Carly as if in shock. “Oh my God, hell froze over and you didn’t tell me?” The friends at the table laughed, the lighthearted conversation all too familiar in the faculty lunchroom at Lowell High School. Tony, Mel, Jon and Kelly—from the English department—and school secretary Carly gathered every day for twenty-three minutes of teen-free time to eat lukewarm food off plastic trays, blow off steam about the students’ behavior and enjoy a few minutes of adult company. “Come on, Mel, give the poor guy a break. His football team just got knocked out of the state quarterfinals. He needs some compassion,” Jon said, picking up his sandwich. “Thanks for mentioning that sore subject…again.” Tony crushed his milk carton and tossed it across the room, hitting the trash can dead center. “Two points!” Melanie rolled her eyes. “Maybe you’d have a better chance of winning state if you coached basketball instead of football.” “Ouch,” Kelly laughed. “Way to go for the jugular, Mel.” Tony leaned back in his seat with a cocky grin. “You know what they say, Miss Ward. You hurt the ones you love.” Melanie shook her head. “In your dreams.” His grin grew wider and Melanie immediately realized her mistake. “Ooh baby, the ways we hurt each other in my dreams would straighten those pretty curls of yours.” “Just because we teach in a high school, Tony, doesn’t mean you have to act like a horny teenager 24/7.”

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“Well, I wouldn’t be horny all the time if you’d just go out with me,” he teased. “Go out with you or sleep with you?” “There’s a difference?” “God, you’re annoying.” Tony leaned forward and tried to grab the chocolate chip cookie the lunch lady had given her for dessert. “Give me one good reason why you won’t date me.” “We’re incompatible,” she answered, smacking his hand away. “How are we incompatible? We work together.” “Simply working in the same building doesn’t mean we would be a good match. You coach football and teach Phys Ed. I’m the choral director. It would sort of be like trying to merge the Super Bowl and The Sound of Music.” Tony laughed. “Christ, there’s a lame musical. Bunch of kids dressed in curtains singing their way through Austria to escape Hitler.” Melanie narrowed her eyes angrily. “Yeah well, that lame musical happens to be my choice for the spring production.” “Oh,” Tony replied sheepishly. “That could be cool, I guess. I mean, that Maria was kinda hot.” “Way to stick your foot in your mouth, Tony,” Kelly said. “But I don’t see how being different means you’re incompatible. Mac and I aren’t exactly carbon copies of each other and we get along fine.” The way Kelly emphasized “fine” produced more chuckles. She and her undercover cop were newlyweds and so insanely in love, it hurt Mel to look at them. “Maybe not, but at least you two have some common interests,” Melanie replied. “I’m sure we have something in common besides where we work,” Tony said. “Oh yeah? What’s your favorite thing to do on the weekends?” “Watch sports on TV and have sex.”

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Melanie fought back a blush and a grin at his quick response. “I like to read and listen to music.” “You don’t like sex?” he teased. “I’m not discussing my sex life.” Or lack thereof. “You’d like sex with me,” he said, grabbing her hand and toying with one of the rings on her finger. She tried to ignore the heat generated from his touch that traveled up her arm, spreading out to various long-neglected parts of her body. She pulled her hand away from his and attempted to get the conversation back on track. “Do you have a favorite book? Have you ever read a book?” “Of course I read. I love Friday Night Lights. Cry at the end of it every time,” he joked. “Who’s your favorite musician?” “Rihanna,” he answered easily. “Why?” “Because she’s fucking sexy.” Melanie looked at Kelly and Carly and gestured grandly toward Tony, as if she’d made her point. Both women were laughing and she had to admit she found the affable football coach amusing too. Lunchtime was her favorite part of the workday, mainly because it allowed her to relax with her friends and, if she were being perfectly honest, she was flattered by Tony’s continual flirting. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, with his light brown hair and dark blue gaze, and his body proved that he practiced what he preached to the athletes on his team as his muscular arm reached over to tug on her hair mischievously. “Not as sexy as you, of course,” he added, and she fought back the flutter in her heart that accompanied each one of his playful touches. He seemed to find more and

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more reasons to touch her lately and every brush of his fingers sent her body into overdrive. “You’re incorrigible,” she said. “And you’re beautiful,” he replied, his tone more serious than she’d ever heard it. “Go out with me, Mel. Just one date. Let me prove to you we’re compatible.” She sucked in a breath, waiting for him to crack a joke, but his eyes held her gaze and she could sense something in them that looked almost like a plea. She’d been turning down his invitations for over a year because she didn’t think his interest was sincere. She’d honestly thought it had just been friendly teasing, playful banter. Now she wondered if she’d misread his desire. Desire. Christ, if there was one thing she did know about Tony Peterson, it was that she desired him beyond reason. She felt a light blush cover her face and she hoped no one else noticed. “Go for it,” she heard Kelly murmur next to her. “It’s just one date,” Carly added. “Call his bluff.” Melanie glanced at her friends and wondered for a moment if they weren’t actually on Tony’s side. Carly’s words had the ring of a dare, something her friends knew she could never resist. “Fine,” she said before she could think better of it. “One date and then you’ll see I’m right. Touchdowns and tempos don’t mix.” But dear God, she sure as hell wished they did. Tony smiled widely and for a moment she was struck by how amazingly handsome he was. He shrugged lightly, as if unconcerned by her joke. “I may not know much about music, but sweetheart, I know all about scoring and I should warn you, I’m in this game to win.”

*****

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Tony stirred the spaghetti sauce once more before replacing the pan lid and turning the heat down to simmer. He glanced around the kitchen, pleased with the way the place looked. Carly and Kelly had come over earlier this afternoon to help him create a romantic atmosphere in the apartment, scattering candles around and setting the table for two with a tablecloth, flowers and fancy wineglasses. He’d enlisted Melanie’s friends several weeks ago when he’d realized that his feelings for the woman had changed from mere friendship to genuine interest. He wasn’t sure when the tide had turned, but one Friday night, after a depressing overtime loss to a rival school, he’d left the field to find Melanie waiting. It wasn’t unusual to see her at the games. Despite her protestations about finding football barbaric and boring, she never missed a game and had even organized a pep squad to come out and support his players. He couldn’t remember what she’d said to him; some smartass joke that had made him laugh. And he’d realized that she had become special to him. He’d been feeling low and lonely and miserable, but just seeing her face and hearing her soft voice had lightened all those heavy emotions. He started paying attention after that and he was amazed to discover that her presence directly correlated to his mood. Whenever she was around, he was happy. Whenever she wasn’t, he missed her, thought about her, wondered where she was and what she was doing. At thirty-two, he’d been around the block more than a few times, but there was something about the prim and proper music teacher that had stopped him in his tracks. There was something about her that spoke to him of family and forever and—well, he couldn’t deny it—hot, steamy sex that would melt the paint off the walls. The doorbell rang and he grinned. He hadn’t lied about playing to win when she’d accepted this date. He’d made his game plan carefully, studying all her past evasive moves and preparing a strong offense to overpower her defense that insisted they weren’t perfect for each other. He crossed to the stereo and turned on the Norah Jones CD Kelly had dug out of his collection, declaring it the ultimate mood music.

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Between the candlelight, the smell of Italian food wafting through the air and the soft melody, he felt optimistic, hopeful. He felt like a quarterback walking onto the field just before the Super Bowl. Tonight, all his dreams would be realized. God help him if he fumbled because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, no game had ever meant more to him.

***** When Tony opened the door, the romantic ambiance that greeted Melanie overwhelmed her. His house, though not really disgusting, was generally messy in an “I’m a busy bachelor” way. Tonight, the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles, the pile of dirty socks in the corner and the blaring noise of the television were gone. “Am I in the right house?” she asked as she stepped in. She’d had reservations about accepting his invitation to cook for her at his place since he’d told her his plans for their first—and probably only—date. Despite the fact she’d been at his house lots of times, she’d never been in it alone with him. He threw lots of impromptu Friday happy hours for their friends on the faculty and she’d helped him host a picnic for his football players over the summer. Tonight she was overwhelmed with the fear that—despite her resolve to prove how wrong they were for each other—she wouldn’t be able to resist her body’s insistence that they could be oh-so-very right together. He took her coat and hung it up in the closet in the foyer. “Norah Jones?” she asked when she caught the melody of one of her favorite songs. “You gave me this CD for my birthday,” he answered. “I didn’t think you ever listened to it.” “Well, you were wrong,” he said, grasping her hand and pulling her into the living room. “I think you’re going to find out you were wrong about a lot of things tonight.” He pulled her toward him, wrapping one arm around her waist while keeping hold of her hand, slowly swirling her in time to the music in a slow dance, and she was struck by the thought that they’d never danced together. Somehow this slow 10

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movement, this natural embrace, felt too familiar to be brand new. Clearly, she’d dreamed of his arms surrounding her far too often during the cold, lonely nights. She matched his sexy sway with one of her own and neither of them spoke while they moved in time to the sultry tune. Melanie put her head against his chest, listening as the steady beat of his heart accompanied the music. He tightened his grip and she struggled not to stumble as his hard cock brushed against her stomach. He obviously felt no embarrassment about his arousal. He wanted her to know. After all the months of flirtatious banter, the truth came crashing down around her. He hadn’t been lying. He did want her. The realization sent a surge of hot juices to her aching pussy. She’d denied herself the joy of believing his claims of wanting her, unwilling to let herself hope that their friendship could ever be anything more. Tony’s hand drifted slowly up her back and she was surprised when he wrapped his fingers in her auburn curls, lightly tugging her head back until her face was inches from his. She parted her lips to speak but no sound emerged as he leaned down and kissed her. She expected his kiss to reflect his personality—strong, overpowering, intense. Instead she was assaulted by the utter tenderness of his lips on hers. He wasn’t taking, he was giving. When he pulled away, she had to fight not to grab his head and demand more. She slowly opened her eyes. Rather than the smug, gloating look she anticipated, he was smiling at her so sweetly, so kindly, she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. “Tony,” she whispered. He placed his finger on her lips to halt her words. “Too many more of those sweet kisses of yours and my dinner won’t be worth eating by the time I’m finished with you.”

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“I don’t care about dinner,” she blurted out, secretly pleased by the look of lust that suddenly clouded his eyes. “Dammit, Mel. Don’t joke around. I’m a man teetering on the edge here.” She ran her hand along his chest seductively, not stopping until her fingers rested on the waistband of his jeans. “Jump,” she dared.

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Chapter Two Melanie had been a fool to think she could resist this, resist him. She’d wanted Tony Peterson since the first day she’d laid eyes on him. Regardless of her opinion concerning their compatibility outside the bedroom, she had no doubts inside it they would scorch the sheets. His eyes narrowed at her sexy taunt. “Bedroom—now,” he demanded. “And you better have those clothes off by the time you get there.” She fought back a giggle at his “drop and give me fifty” coach’s voice but didn’t resist. She headed for the stairs, aware of the fact his bedroom was at the top despite the fact she’d never seen it. She turned as he followed her. Slowly she climbed the first step, moving backward while unbuttoning the top button on her blouse. She repeated the motion, one button for each step as Tony shadowed her progress a step below her, his eyes never moving from the actions of her hands. “Fuck,” he muttered when she reached the middle of the staircase and her last button. Pulling off her shirt, she flung it over the banister, reveling in the admiration in his gaze. Reaching behind her, she undid the clasp of her bra before removing it and draping it over his shoulder with a naughty grin. He growled at the sexy move and she felt a moment of panic at the ravenous look in his eyes. Turning, she started to run up the remaining stairs, overwhelmed by his intense stare and her hungry, starving need for him. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said, reaching out and gripping her around the waist. “You want to play dirty, we’ll play dirty.” Holding her in place with one arm, he used the other hand to strip off her skirt. “Aw shit, Mel. You’re wearing stockings. Christ, I love stockings.” 13

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She’d donned the silky hose, garter and thong secretly hoping he’d see them. Now that he was standing behind her, his hands firmly rubbing over the bare globes of her rear-end, she was glad she had. “Are you going to take me on the stairs?” she asked breathlessly when his hands began to stray from the soft flesh of her ass to explore the depths between. “I should,” he said, his voice so gruff it rumbled through her like an electric shock. She began to tremble in his grip as he pushed her upper back forward until she was bent over the arm holding her, her ass bared and available to his hand and gaze. “You knew what you were doing with that little striptease. You let the bear out of his cage, Miss Ward. Are you prepared to pay for the consequences of that?” She shivered, loving the dominant way he spoke to her. He was taking charge of her and she wanted, needed more. “I’m ready for anything you dish out, Coach Peterson,” she replied, her words a taunt, a dare, a plea. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t the firm slap across her ass. His hand was rough and strong. “Tony,” she gasped. He paused for a moment, running his palm over her heated bottom. “Anything I dish out?” he asked. An unfamiliar desire snaked through her as she considered his request. Suddenly she felt her inhibitions, her reserved nature slide away as easily as her clothing had. “Anything,” she whispered. He smacked her again, harder, and she groaned. What the hell was she doing? She was bent over his arm while he spanked her. The rough sexual act wasn’t one she’d ever imagined wanting, let alone enjoying. He continued to slap his large, calloused hand against her sensitive flesh and she felt the first spark of her orgasm flash. Shit, she was going to come…from a spanking.

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Before she could process that thought, his hand paused, the hard slaps turning into gentle caresses. Touches too soft to calm the building need inside her. “Please,” she whispered. “Help me.” Her voice was a breathless plea, but she couldn’t hold back the request as her need to climax trembled through her body. “Bend over and put your hands on the step in front of you.” She complied as he pushed her legs apart with his foot. She knew he was being treated to an up close and personal view of just how badly she needed him. The thin, damp strap of her thong was shoved aside and replaced with Tony’s thick fingers. He must have sensed her need as he roughly pushed two inside her. Her inner muscles clamped down on him as her body began to thrust back against them. “God yes!” she cried, moving into each hard shove of his fingers. “More. Harder.” Her voice no longer pleaded, it demanded, insisted. Tony worked her quivering flesh like a master, his words issuing orders of their own. “That’s right, Mel. Push against me, baby. Take what you need.” She gasped back a cry of surprise when he removed his fingers and returned with his mouth. His tongue, his lips devoured her and she cried out when his fingers returned, rubbing her clit firmly. He pulled back briefly, his fingers still working her swollen nub. “I want to feel you come against my mouth, Mel. Come for me,” he said harshly as he pushed his tongue back into her weeping channel. His commanding words, the forceful, glorious thrusting of his tongue and the stimulation on her clit proved too much as it sent her spiraling into orbit. It was several moments before she realized she was moving. She opened her eyes to find Tony looking down at her as he carried her up the remaining steps. He grinned. “Watching you come is better than watching a receiver catch a Hail Mary pass in the last seconds of a game.” She giggled at his analogy. “Wow. As good as that?” she teased.

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He placed her in the middle of a big, soft bed and she glanced around the room, attempting to take it in. She’d never seen his bedroom and the elegant, tasteful décor surprised her. His king-sized bed sported a gorgeous cherry headboard which matched the dresser and nightstand. The comforter was a deep burgundy, soft and warm. For some reason she’d expected to see football knickknacks and trophies scattered about, maybe a poster of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders on his wall. Instead, he had old family pictures up. A beautiful antique mirror hung on the wall opposite the bed. “What do you think?” he asked as he watched her survey the room. She blushed slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so nosy.” “That’s not what I asked.” He pulled off his shirt before joining her on the bed. “I asked what you thought.” “It’s lovely,” she said, confused when he laughed. “You sound so surprised. What did you expect? A bearskin rug and mirrored ceiling?” She smiled, ashamed that she truly had kind of expected some kind of tacky macho decorations.

Tony shook his head and fought back a laugh. He knew very well what Ms. Ward had been thinking. She clearly considered him to be a jock and no doubt expected his bedroom to be reminiscent of a locker room. He looked at her lying on his bed and fought against the desire to climb on top of her and take exactly what he wanted. He’d vowed to himself when she’d agreed to this date to go slow, easy with her. A dominant lover, he was determined not to scare her away. That plan had been blown out of the water on the stairs. He’d spanked her ass and she’d gone off like a bottle rocket. Christ.

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He’d suspected her wild side, but seeing it up close and personal was lighting a whole arsenal of fireworks in his own body. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back much longer. She shivered under his gaze and he took a deep breath, attempting to still the raging inferno that threatened to consume him. She smiled nervously and he sensed her unease. “Everything okay?” she asked. He was a jackass, staring at her like a lovesick fool. Obviously she thought his hesitance signaled unwillingness, thought he’d perhaps changed his mind. He bent down to kiss her, anxious to prove to her that his desire definitely had not waned. He let her feel his erection against her leg and watched as she realized that while she’d found release, he had not. “Take off your pants,” she said when they broke apart briefly. “With pleasure.” He rose and slowly stripped off his jeans and boxers in one smooth move, chuckling when she gasped. Now she could see exactly how much he wanted her. He was hard and aching and ready to play. He had to bite back his own gasp of surprise when she rose from the bed to stand in front of him. “Mel?” he asked when she took control of his cock with a firm grip. “I want to taste you,” she whispered as she dragged her hand along his hard flesh with a confident strength that seemed to be in direct contrast to her softly spoken words. He tried to respond, tried to tell her there was nothing on earth he wanted more, but all he could do was nod. She knelt before him and Tony had to lock his knees to remain standing. The image of Melanie on her knees, her soft hands toying with his painfully hard erection, was more than his mind could process, more than his body could withstand. He’d seen this

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same sight in his dreams for months and having her in this position seemed too good to be true. Holy hell, she drove him to the brink of a climax with just her gorgeous brown eyes, drinking in the sight of his cock as if she was starving for it. He had to clench his fists to stop from grabbing her head and giving her exactly what she was wanted but once again, she shocked the hell out of him. Attempting to control this woman in bed wouldn’t be easy as she continually proved she wasn’t a timid lover. She opened her mouth to kiss the head of his cock before dragging her tongue seductively along the underside, teasing the sensitive flesh just beneath the crown. She hummed as she took him in and the vibrations added an entirely different layer to her sensual torment. Fuck. He gritted his teeth and prayed for restraint. She was driving him to the verge of coming way too fast and if he didn’t regain possession of his body, he’d lose the home field advantage. He knew where he wanted this night to lead and it sure as hell didn’t involve him coming in her mouth in less than three minutes. He was bound and determined this game would go into overtime. Double overtime, if he had his way. She took his cock completely into her mouth, one fist wrapped tightly around the base while her other hand played with his balls. He needed to seize control or concede defeat right now as she worked her lips over his erection. Her teeth and tongue drove him even closer to crying surrender. Quickly moving his hands to her head, he gripped her hair and tried to set the pace, slow her motions. “Easy,” he murmured. She shook her head as she continued to suck him deep into her throat and he growled at the intensity, the sexiness of her denial. “Dammit, Mel,” he said, using every ounce of strength in his protesting body to pull her away. “I’m not coming in your mouth. Not this time.”

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She shuddered at his comment and he realized she was definitely looking forward to the prospect of a next time. He felt like slam-dunking the football in the end zone. She was perfect. Everything he imagined she’d be and more. “Get back up on the bed,” he whispered. “I’ve gotta get inside you. Now.”

Melanie sucked in a deep breath as he gave her a look that made her think of a conquering warrior. She crawled on the bed, feeling the mattress give way as he reclined close beside her. “When’s the last time you had sex?” he asked as he dragged his hand sensuously down her stomach before pulling back to look at her. “What?” She was surprised by his abrupt change of subject. She’d really kind of expected—hoped—they could get down to business. “I know you, Mel. We’ve been colleagues and friends more than a year. You never talk about boyfriends, so I want to know, when’s the last time you were with a man?” “Three years ago,” she confessed, wondering what he would think of her long abstinence. He nodded, his hand gripping her waist. She loved the way he didn’t seem able to stop touching her for even a moment. “That’s a long time. I don’t want to hurt you.” She blushed at his concern. “You won’t.” She knew him, knew deep inside that he would take care of her. That realization, along with his kind words, tugged at her heart while his hands and his heated looks lit a fire in her body. He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom. She watched him don it, her heart racing. He paused when he was ready and took her face in his hands, kissing her deeply. She sucked in a breath when he moved back and she was aware of his hesitance. She suspected he was giving her time to change her mind. She smiled, knowing there was nothing she wanted more than him. “Come inside me,” she whispered.

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She lifted her hips as he slipped her thong off, his fingers playing with the clips of the garter. She thought he was going to try to take them off, but he merely ran his hands over them as if savoring the feeling. “I love garters,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her again. This time his lips took what they wanted, demanded her acquiescence, her submission to his needs, his wants. He moved over her as they kissed and she opened her legs to welcome him. The head of his cock nudged against her opening and she pulled away from his lips, gasping at the intensity of the feeling. It had been so long—too long—since she’d enjoyed this pleasure. “Choose your tempo,” he whispered in her ear. “What?” “Fast and hard or slow and easy. Your tempo, your choice. You get to direct this symphony.” She closed her eyes and let her body answer. “Allegro con brio. Fast, hard.” He groaned at her request. “God, yes.” She expected him to thrust into her in response but was surprised by his steady, slow entrance. Her eyes opened, questioning. “It’s been a long time for you. You’re so hot, so tight. You’re perfect, a dream come true,” he replied. Her heart flooded with warmth at his words and she was inundated with the sense that this wasn’t just a game her fun-loving coach was trying to win. His admission, his actions, his compassion were speaking directly to her heart, her soul, and she prayed she was interpreting the harmony correctly. He cared about her. She felt the acute, glorious pain of love’s arrow as it pierced her heart. She was in love with Coach Tony Peterson. She’d fallen head over heels for a man

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who was as different from her as day is from night. And yet, she sensed he was her perfect complement as well. Only when he’d fully seated himself did he pause. She observed his gentle gaze watching her, studying her face for any sign of discomfort. She smiled at him as she held him within her body. “You’re running down the clock, coach. Stalling. Why?” He kissed her lips lightly, grinning. “I don’t want to give you a chance to go on the defensive. This is my last attempt at a touchdown.” “So this is just about scoring?” she asked, certain that wasn’t the case. He shook his head. “I don’t give a damn about the score. I want us both to win.” She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his hard flesh filling her. “I definitely feel like a winner right now.” He moved back at her words, pulling his cock out until just the head remained lodged in her tight grip. “How committed are you to a winning season?” She wrapped her legs around his waist, attempting to bring him back inside, but he wouldn’t be budged. “Very,” she gasped, frustration gripping her at his refusal to answer her body’s demands. “Are you willing to go the distance?” he asked, pushing into her roughly, quickly, his cock burying itself within her depths. She gasped at the intensity. “Yes,” she hissed. He retreated once again and paused as he reached down to grasp her breast with one hand, cupping it, leaning down and pulling the taut nipple into his mouth. She moaned as she felt his teeth lightly bite the turgid tip. He released it, looking up into her face with a crooked grin. “I gotta warn you. It’ll be a long, hard road,” he said before shoving into her so hard her body moved up on the bed a couple of inches.

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She gave him a sexy grin. “I don’t care how long it is—as long as it’s hard. God, Tony. Please, fuck me.” He pulled out and waited until she opened her eyes to gaze into his. Her breathing was harsh—hell, she was panting. “I’m not an easy lover. I’ll make demands. I’m afraid I’m used to being in charge.” She shuddered at the thought of following his commands, putting herself into his very large, very capable hands. “Take charge,” she begged. His gaze darkened with lust. “I’m talking about more than just this one damn date, Mel. I want you in my bed every night.” “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be,” she whispered, perfectly aware of what she wanted from him. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to learn. Her agreement freed his restraints and her wild, sexy lover emerged. He pushed into her, but this time he didn’t stop. Over and over he moved inside her, the tempo gloriously strong and fast and hard. His hands grasped her breasts, tugging at the sensitive flesh, his fingers squeezing her nipples hard. She was overwhelmed by the pleasure-pain of his touch as her body, her words pleaded for more. “Tony!” she gasped, her orgasm building as he continued his relentless, beautiful thrusting. “Come for me,” he whispered, his hot breath caressing her cheek as she succumbed to the bright lightning and powerful magic his hands, his cock unleashed in her body. For several moments he remained within her, not moving, and she realized once again she’d taken her pleasure while he’d restrained from grabbing his own. She reached up to touch his beloved face and he smiled. “First and ten,” he whispered and she giggled at his familiar, sweet teasing. Her laughter was short-lived as his cock retreated and returned, triggering the same

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impulses she’d believed sated and starting her down the lovely path to complete and utter bliss once again. She’d never come so many times in one night and her heart told her this orgasm likely wouldn’t be her last for the evening. He hadn’t lied. He wouldn’t be an easy lover, but dear God, he was certainly her best. His rhythm began again but this time she refused to come alone. She reached around him, pulling him closer, her fingernails scratching his back. “Harder,” she demanded and he acquiesced. She knew he was nearing the end as his thrusts became more erratic, more frantic. “Together!” she screamed at her release, and felt him join her as the last crescendo of the sonata in her body reverberated to an end. “Touchdown,” she whispered as he collapsed beside her. “I love you, coach.” She grinned as she looked over at his handsome face. “I love you too, Mel,” he whispered. The End

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About the Author Some people fall apart on their 30th birthday, others on their 40th. For Mari Carr, 34 was the year that took her down. After she spent the day crying and saying, “I haven’t done anything I thought I would,” her husband finally asked what was left undone. Her answer was simple—she hadn’t written a book or decorated her house. “So do it,” he said. Five years later, the house is sparkling with fresh paint and new furniture and her computer is jammed full of stories—novels, novellas, short stories and dead-ends. The lesson: It’s never too late to achieve a goal or two! High school librarian and English teacher by day and mother of two busy teenagers, Mari Carr finds time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet. With the publication of her first book, her latest goal—publishing before 40—has been achieved with a couple of years to spare. Phew!

The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Mari Carr Covert Lessons Everything Nice Kiss Me, Kate Retreat Spitfire Sugar and Spice

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