Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

It’s me who makes the next move. Tilting, I press my lips to his. Soft at first until I feel his mouth open against mine and his tongue tasting mine. I sit up higher on him, feeling his hardness through my jeans. Julius holds me tightly as he kisses me. He tugs at my shirt, and I nod, letting him know he can do whatever he wants. He lifts it and places his hands against my skin, his finger digging into my flesh while I move against him. We both moan, and he breaks away, kissing a path of desire down my neck and across my chest. When his hand cups my breast, my head falls back, and I push harder into him. I want him. I have since he pierced me with his soulful eyes on Peyton’s balcony.

“Julius,” I whisper his name. It’s my way of consenting for more. I want . . . no, I need for him to touch me, to put his lips in places he has yet to explore. But he doesn’t. He continues to kiss me, ignoring the burning I feel deep within. His arm hugs me to his body, and my hips jerk, creating some much-needed friction. Julius groans and his hand finds purchase on my hip, moving me back and forth.

A door slams shut, and he pushes me away. I tuck my head and wipe my face with the back of my hand. It takes me a moment to calm my beating heart and to regain my breathing. Was I really going to have sex with him in the shower room of the stadium? Honestly, I don’t want to know the answer to that question.

I crave him.

Every part of Julius sets my body on fire. His smoldering eyes, big hands, and the way he tilts his head to the side and looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Which I know isn’t true. I’ve seen the cheerleaders and his ex. Elena is gorgeous. And let’s be honest, Julius Cunningham could have any woman he wanted.

Yet, I’m the one in the locker room, making out with him. This alone should be enough for me.

“I don’t think anyone is coming in,” he says quietly.

“Will you get in trouble for having me in here?”

“No,” he says while shaking his head. He keeps his eyes focused on the entrance and not on me. I reach for his hand and lock our fingers together. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I look at him in surprise. “I’m perfect.”

He moves toward me and kisses me. “What are you doing tonight?”

“We,” I pause and let the word linger between us, “were invited over to Peyton and Noah’s.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “I don’t have any plans if you want to go.”

“My family and I usually go out to dinner after a home game.”

“You go,” I say, not wanting to keep him from his children. “And when you get back, if you want, come over to Noah’s or stop by my place.”

“I will,” he says before kissing me again. We make out a little bit longer but nothing like before. The tension between us is intense and whatever is growing between us feels incredibly real.

Julius walks me to my car, where he gives me a goodbye kiss. “I’ll call you later,” he tells me and then helps me in my vehicle.

“Do you want me to drive you to your car?”

He shakes his head and holds out his phone. “I need to make a call.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” I watch him walk away and hold the phone to his ear. I suspect he’s calling his ex, and for some reason, it irritates me. I tell myself to chill. They have children and need to talk about their care, but why not do it when he’s in the car and driving home? Why not spend a few more minutes with me?

Twenty-Four

Julius

The entire drive to the restaurant to meet my parents and kids, I think about Autumn and what could’ve easily happened in the shower room. I knew taking her in there was a mistake, but I wanted her to see where I spend my Sundays. It probably would’ve been better had I done it when I knew more staff would be around. I’m not worried about the cleaning crew, but if one of the coaches walked in or one of my teammates, I’d get a ton of shit.

Elena’s name pops up on my console and I groan. During the game, she called and I tried to call her back, but she sent me to voicemail. I want to do the same now, but it’ll do me no good to ignore her.

“What?” I bark out as I answer.

“Is that any way to greet your wife?”

“Soon to be ex-wife,” I remind her. “Besides, we’re separated. I’m not sure you can refer to yourself as my wife anymore.”