Jaci Burton - Straddling the Line

“Okay.” In her best this-is-all-just-casual-between-us voice, she said, “See you tomorrow, Trevor.”

She hurried upstairs, closed the door, and leaned against it, trying to calm her rapid pulse.

Stupid. She was so stupid.

She had fallen in love with him.

Again.

And it was totally, utterly one-sided.

Again.

When will you ever get smart, Haven?

He will never love you.

TREVOR HAD NO IDEA WHY HE’D SAID WHAT HE’D SAID to Haven.

Correction. He knew exactly why he’d pushed her away.

She’d said she cared.

He couldn’t afford to let a woman—to let Haven—get close enough to care about him.

Because she wanted to know more about him, which meant exploring his past. And that meant exposing secrets—secrets he wasn’t ready to trust anyone with.

Or was he ready?

No. He couldn’t. Just the thought of it . . . what she might think if he told her . . .

She wouldn’t understand. She’d think less of him. Or even worse, she’d try to help, and no one could help him, because no one could know.

He took a long swallow of his beer and rolled the bottle around in his hands.

The problem was, she wasn’t the only one who cared. He’d gotten used to having her in his life. In his house. He missed her when she wasn’t around. He loved having her body next to his at night. He enjoyed her laugh, her sense of humor, her counsel. He’d grown closer to Haven than any other woman in his life before.

Was that love? He didn’t know.

Maybe it was, because when he thought about her, everything inside him tightened with lust, with emotion, with a sense that if he didn’t have her next to him all the time, something was missing.

But still, he kept a part of himself removed from her.

He couldn’t tell her about that part. It would change her feelings for him.

And that meant there could be no relationship, which was why he’d spent all these years alone.

With no answers to his dilemma in sight, he stared out into the darkness.

HAVEN DIDN’T QUITE KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF SOME of the other players offering themselves up for interviews about Trevor. But as she sat there and watched the team practice, she noticed Trevor would talk to one of the players, who would nod, and then later on make his way over to her.

She rolled her eyes, feeling manipulated and irritated. Who was in charge of this interview, anyway? So whenever one of the guys came over and offered himself up, she politely turned him down, telling him she’d look him up later if she had any questions about Trevor.

Damn the man for always wanting to control things. Maybe she’d put that in her bio piece about him.

God forbid he should hand over the reins of control to a woman, letting her be in charge.

Though he hadn’t minded whenever she’d wanted to climb on top of him during sex. She’d been in charge then, hadn’t she?

As she saw him dash down the field, the ball sailing in the air and landing in Trevor’s arms, goose bumps pricked her skin. She vividly recalled herself naked, riding Trevor’s lean hips while he dug his fingers into her flesh, urging her to take them both right to the edge, then over. Her nipples tightened, her pussy quivering with the need to—

Dammit. Shaking herself out of her self-induced sex dream, she forced her attention on Trevor’s confident jaunt back to the huddle. She caught him taking a quick glance up at her sitting on the sidelines. He gave her a knowing smile, almost as if he’d been aware of what she’d been thinking.

No way. It wasn’t like her body was giving off sexual pheromones or she was holding up an I Need to Get Laid sign or anything. He had just smiled at her. That was all it had been. Like a Hi, how’s it going? kind of thing.

Right?

It had just been one night apart. And maybe she hadn’t slept much and she’d stared out at the dark water outside her window instead of sleeping, lost in her own thoughts. She could have been cuddled up next to Trevor’s warm body, or mixed in a tangle of arms and legs, her body moving under—or over—his, wildly crying out in orgasm, instead of sleeping in a cold bed all by herself.

She might as well get used to that, because as soon as the interview was over, that was what she’d be doing every night.

Forcing her thoughts back to her work, she fixed her attention on the notes she’d spent the past few hours making, then put her laptop aside and grabbed her camera. Andy was working film, but she wanted some still shots as well.

She walked the sidelines, framing Trevor as he stood in the huddle. As tall as he was, it was easy to pick him out of all the amazingly athletic players. Or maybe it was just that she could easily call him out. Either way, she grabbed a shot of him bending over in the huddle, and then getting into position as the offense readied for the next play. He charged down the sideline and she took several pictures, getting one of him making a spectacular grab, his body stretched out, his feet leaving the ground as he reached up for the ball.

That was going to be a great still shot. She took several more, just of him, and of him with his team, before going back to her seat.

After practice, she waited for him to shower, then met him at the entrance.

“Good practice?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think we’re ready for Dallas this weekend.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to hit the showers. Oh, and Larry, the receivers coach, has invited a bunch of the receivers to dinner at his place tonight. It’s going to be relaxed, talk strategy. Guys are bringing wives and girlfriends.”

“I’m not a girlfriend. And obviously not a wife.”

“No, but you have to eat, right?”

After their conversation last night, she didn’t know how she felt about going with him. But declining would be petty, and she wasn’t petty. Besides, it would give her an opportunity to see him in action—at least socially—with the other receivers, and the job came first. “Yes, I do have to eat.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I’ll meet you back at the house. Dinner’s at seven.”

She left and headed back to the house. She had a few things to talk to him about. She had a great idea she’d come up with during her hours of nonsleep last night, when she’d gone over his bio and reviewed his charity work. She thought it would be a great piece for the interview and she knew he’d love the idea, because it would feature one of his charities. She couldn’t wait to run it by him.

She met with Andy to make arrangements for him to send her the film he’d taken. They were going to meet up again in Dallas this weekend for the game.

She drove back to the house and worked more on her notes so she could send them in to her production team. She was in the dining room, working on her laptop, when Trevor came home.

“Hey,” he said, laying his bag down in the kitchen.

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you working?”

“Yes. Finishing up some notes and uploading some photos I took of you and the team today. Would you like to see them?”

“Yeah.” He leaned over her while she showed him the photos. This was actually the first time he’d reviewed her work.

“These are good. You’re a great photographer, Haven.”

She tilted her head back to smile at him. “Thanks.”

“Could you send me a couple of the pics you don’t use?”

“Sure. Are you going to frame them and hang them on your wall?”

He laughed. “No. But I’ll send them to the person who handles my PR and she can use them.”

“I see.”

The doorbell rang, and Trevor went to the door. He came back with a man who looked to be in his midthirties, dressed in a dark suit. He was quite good-looking in a GQ kind of way, with short sandy blond hair, deep blue eyes, and black Clark Kent glasses.

“Haven, this is my lawyer, Bradley Rayburn.”

She got up from the table and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Bradley.”

“Call me Brad. Nice to meet you, too, Haven. You must be the person interviewing Trevor for the network feature story.”

“I am.”

“How’s that going?”

“It’s going very well. As you know, Trevor is quite the subject.” She cast a smile Trevor’s way.

Brad grinned. “Yeah, he is.”

Brad put his briefcase on the table, opened it, and pulled out a file folder. He opened it and took out what looked like contracts. “These are ready to sign.”

Trevor sat at the table and took the pen Brad handed him. “Where the flags are?”

“Yeah.” Brad turned to Haven. “So how long have you been in sports broadcasting?”

Haven had her attention on Trevor, but pulled it away briefly to give a quick glance to Brad. “Oh, not long.”

Trevor signed the contracts, then handed the papers back to Brad. “Here you go.”

“Great. I’ll have these countersigned and an executed copy should be ready for you within a week.”

“Okay.”

Brad closed his briefcase, then turned to Haven. “It was great meeting you, Haven.”

“You, too, Brad.”

Trevor walked him to the door, then came back. Haven leaned against the table and crossed her arms.

“What?” he asked.

“You didn’t even read whatever it was he asked you to sign.”

Trevor waited a few beats before answering her. “Oh. I’d already gone over those contracts in Brad’s office. I knew what they were.”

“Still. Don’t you think you should have read them over to make sure no changes were made?”

“Nah. I trust Brad. We’ve been together since I started my career. If there’d been changes, he would have told me.”

“I know it’s not my business, Trevor, but really, that’s not a good idea. You should always read anything before you sign it.”

He came over and swept his hand down her arm, then clasped his fingers with hers. “Thanks for looking out for me, Haven, but really, the contract was fine. And so is Brad.”

She shrugged. “If you say so.” She untangled her hand from his and picked up her phone. “I need to go change for dinner.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She went upstairs and took a shower, did her hair and makeup and put on a pair of capris and a tank, then chose a sheer long-sleeved button-down blouse to put over it. She slipped into her shoes and went downstairs.

Trevor was already there, wearing cargo pants and a short-sleeved shirt that hugged his well-muscled chest.

She sighed in appreciation. “You look good.”

He smiled and came over to her, picked up her hand, and kissed the back of it. “And you look gorgeous.”

He tugged her close and kissed her, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him, making her wish they were staying in tonight instead of going out. Just the feeling of his body pressed tight to hers, and the taste of his lips and tongue as he moved his mouth expertly over hers, ignited a fire inside her that demanded to be extinguished.

But she knew they had somewhere else to be, so she laid her palms on his chest and broke the kiss. “If you keep that up, we’re not going to make it to dinner at your coach’s house tonight.”

His eyes gleamed hot with desire, the evidence of that in his erection that brushed against her. “Is that a bad thing?”

She shuddered against him. “For me? No. For you? Probably.”

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll just drive with a hard-on.”

“You’re not the only one turned on here, you know.”

He fished a condom out of one of the many pockets in his pants. “We could have a quickie. I could make you come in a hurry.”

She cocked a brow. “You think you’re that good?”

He lifted her onto the kitchen counter. “I know I am.”

In seconds, her shoes were on the floor and he’d tugged off her capris and her underwear. She’d thought about objecting, but she’d ignited in a hurry with the way he’d kissed her and held her, and she wanted this as much as he did.

She’d missed him last night, and it was ridiculous to deny herself such great sex. As long as she was clear about where this was headed between them—which was nowhere—she could put that lock firmly back on her heart and at least enjoy the chemistry between them.

So when he spread her legs and put his mouth on her sex, she was more than ready. She leaned back on her elbows and draped her legs over his shoulders, giving him access and letting herself fall under his spell.