might need a little time to recuperate, but if you want, I can take care of-um-your needs again.”
“No Superman, but definitely a saint. I don’t recall any man ever saying that to me before. If word gets out, that phone will start ringing again. They won’t hear it from me. I want to keep you all to myself for awhile.”
“That’s the way I want it, too.”
“Let’s get some rest. Maybe later tonight.” Stevie snuggled even closer and simply fell asleep.
Connor stroked her long, blonde hair still damp from the tub and tangled from their last encounter.
He’d given her something Kevin never had. Now this tough, independent woman belonged to him, not his brother. She would not appreciate being treated like some fragile female. He was no expert on women like Joe Dean, but he did know that. Still, what he felt for her was a deep tenderness and the desire to protect, something pretty close to love. But then, he’d been searching for Stevie Dowd all of his adult years while she went unaware with other men who had hurt her. Time, he had to give her some time whether he wanted to or not. Keeping her near, he closed his eyes.
Stevie woke around three in the morning.
Pressed up against her, Connor snored lightly. She should return to her own bed and let him rest.
Carefully, she raised the heavy arm that enclosed her and slipped to the edge of the mattress. Connor rolled on to his back. The shine from the security lights outside the house pierced through the windows and gilded his tall, pale body. Even flaccid he was an exciting man to behold. Ah, those bold Viking cheekbones, those sculpted lips, the light stubble beginning to appear on his chin that would give a slight scratch to any lovemaking. Not to mention what he had between his legs. Nothing to complain about there. No, indeed.
She wanted to lean over and kiss his lips, wake him for more bed sports, but she also noticed his bruises, that taped ankle. She must let him recuperate. She could always finish up alone just by remembering him. Connor Riley, a man who would be too easy to love. She shifted her weight and stood up. His eyes opened. His hormones kicked in.
Looking at her naked body with drowsy eyes, he said, “I think we should use those condoms before they go bad.”
“You should rest.”
“I don’t need rest as much as I need you.”
“Fine, I’m easy to convince and ready just looking at you.”
Stevie spread herself out on the bed again and Connor, fresh condom applied, rolled atop. He started slowly making sure of that readiness, careful of her sore ribs.
Oh yes, so much better without the bathing suit and swimming trunks between them, Stevie thought. Better than Dex or Marcello. And who cared about Kevin Riley anymore?
Chapter Seven
Obviously, Joe Dean Billodeaux was not the happy team player this evening. He slumped in a lounge chair on Connor’s deck and glumly watched Riley flip steaks on the grill where three thick porterhouses and one rib eye sizzled. Connor knew he wore a cheese-eating grin and gave himself away every time he looked at Stevie. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn what kind of foul mood Joe was in, nothing could take the shine from having Stevie in his bed last night.
The quarterback regaled everyone on the deck with his complaints. “Sure, after the game review, the rest of you guys did a light workout and went home. Coach Buck says, ‘Oh, Connor stay off your bad ankle’, but I get held back. I spent all afternoon throwing pass after pass to DeVon Deets, long ones, short ones, left field, right field. Next practice, Coach wants me to concentrate on handing off to the halfback as if I’m some new kid in high school.
‘Pretend there is no Connor Riley on the team’, Coach says. My performance isn’t our big problem.
You know what our problem really is?”
“What?” the Rev asked. He’d driven in from his mama’s house in Chapelle for the cookout. Not being in training, and being far from his
“No Superman, but definitely a saint. I don’t recall any man ever saying that to me before. If word gets out, that phone will start ringing again. They won’t hear it from me. I want to keep you all to myself for awhile.”
“That’s the way I want it, too.”
“Let’s get some rest. Maybe later tonight.” Stevie snuggled even closer and simply fell asleep.
Connor stroked her long, blonde hair still damp from the tub and tangled from their last encounter.
He’d given her something Kevin never had. Now this tough, independent woman belonged to him, not his brother. She would not appreciate being treated like some fragile female. He was no expert on women like Joe Dean, but he did know that. Still, what he felt for her was a deep tenderness and the desire to protect, something pretty close to love. But then, he’d been searching for Stevie Dowd all of his adult years while she went unaware with other men who had hurt her. Time, he had to give her some time whether he wanted to or not. Keeping her near, he closed his eyes.
Stevie woke around three in the morning.
Pressed up against her, Connor snored lightly. She should return to her own bed and let him rest.
Carefully, she raised the heavy arm that enclosed her and slipped to the edge of the mattress. Connor rolled on to his back. The shine from the security lights outside the house pierced through the windows and gilded his tall, pale body. Even flaccid he was an exciting man to behold. Ah, those bold Viking cheekbones, those sculpted lips, the light stubble beginning to appear on his chin that would give a slight scratch to any lovemaking. Not to mention what he had between his legs. Nothing to complain about there. No, indeed.
She wanted to lean over and kiss his lips, wake him for more bed sports, but she also noticed his bruises, that taped ankle. She must let him recuperate. She could always finish up alone just by remembering him. Connor Riley, a man who would be too easy to love. She shifted her weight and stood up. His eyes opened. His hormones kicked in.
Looking at her naked body with drowsy eyes, he said, “I think we should use those condoms before they go bad.”
“You should rest.”
“I don’t need rest as much as I need you.”
“Fine, I’m easy to convince and ready just looking at you.”
Stevie spread herself out on the bed again and Connor, fresh condom applied, rolled atop. He started slowly making sure of that readiness, careful of her sore ribs.
Oh yes, so much better without the bathing suit and swimming trunks between them, Stevie thought. Better than Dex or Marcello. And who cared about Kevin Riley anymore?
Chapter Seven
Obviously, Joe Dean Billodeaux was not the happy team player this evening. He slumped in a lounge chair on Connor’s deck and glumly watched Riley flip steaks on the grill where three thick porterhouses and one rib eye sizzled. Connor knew he wore a cheese-eating grin and gave himself away every time he looked at Stevie. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn what kind of foul mood Joe was in, nothing could take the shine from having Stevie in his bed last night.
The quarterback regaled everyone on the deck with his complaints. “Sure, after the game review, the rest of you guys did a light workout and went home. Coach Buck says, ‘Oh, Connor stay off your bad ankle’, but I get held back. I spent all afternoon throwing pass after pass to DeVon Deets, long ones, short ones, left field, right field. Next practice, Coach wants me to concentrate on handing off to the halfback as if I’m some new kid in high school.
‘Pretend there is no Connor Riley on the team’, Coach says. My performance isn’t our big problem.
You know what our problem really is?”
“What?” the Rev asked. He’d driven in from his mama’s house in Chapelle for the cookout. Not being in training, and being far from his
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