Fast Break (Brooklyn Monarchs 1)

His tension returned. “Oscar didn’t have the right to tell you about that.”

“You should have told me.” Jaclyn maintained her soft, slightly amused tone. Her fingertips stroked over his forehead again. If she was angry, she was doing a damn fine job of hiding it.

“I had it under control.”

Her lush red lips curved. “You should have told me that, too.”

“You have enough, dealing with Gerry and Bert.”

Her expression sobered. Her hands dropped to his shoulders. “I need to know everything that involves this team, whether it’s the condition of the training facilities or tension between players and coaches. As head coach, I expect you to tell me. Immediately. I don’t want to hear about it from the media.”

DeMarcus searched her eyes. She wasn’t flexing her authority or exuding her charm. It was a matter-of-fact statement that nevertheless didn’t leave room for negotiation. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Her hands linked behind his neck and she pulled him closer. She closed her eyes as she leaned in, covering his lips with hers. Her mouth nibbled at his, teasing him. He stroked his tongue across her lips, coaxing them to part. He’d been too long without her taste. Jaclyn moaned and opened for him. DeMarcus slipped his tongue inside her mouth to play and explore. He gripped her waist and plucked her from his desk, settling her onto his lap and into his arms. His body stirred.

Jaclyn shifted even closer to him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her bottom wiggled in his lap. DeMarcus groaned and pulled her tighter. She caressed his tongue with her own. DeMarcus’s body heated. He caught his breath. He squeezed her thigh through the wool material of her skirt before moving over her hip and up her waist to cup her breast. The warm, soft weight against his palm brought images of their night together. Jaclyn trembled within his embrace. She pressed her hands against his chest.

DeMarcus leaned away. “What is it?”

Jaclyn kept her hand on his chest. “Could you take me home? I gave Herb the rest of the night off.”

“I—”

A low grumbling interrupted him. The sound quickly grew to an angry roar. DeMarcus’s gaze bounced to Jaclyn’s flat stomach, then back to her face. Her eyes had stretched wide. Her golden brown skin burned bright red.

An incredulous grin lifted DeMarcus’s cheeks. “Have you eaten at all today?”

“Apparently not enough.” She bit her bottom lip.

Laughter grew from deep inside DeMarcus and burst free. His shoulders shook with it. He gathered Jaclyn into his arms and rocked her. Could he even remember the last time he’d laughed this hard?

Jaclyn punched his shoulder. “That’s enough. It’s not even funny.” The humor in her voice showed she was lying.

It wasn’t easy, but DeMarcus controlled his amusement. “You shouldn’t skip meals.” He cupped Jaclyn’s shoulders and held her from him. “Before I take you home, we’ll stop by my house and I’ll make dinner. My father’s been asking to see you again, anyway.”

Jaclyn’s stomach murmured its approval. DeMarcus chuckled.

She pressed the heel of her left hand against her abdomen. “If you’re sure it’s not an imposition.”

He couldn’t squelch another grin. He didn’t even try. The situation was too comical.

DeMarcus inclined his head toward her stomach. “Listening to that all the way home would be an imposition.” He lifted her from his lap and rose from his chair. “We’ll stop at the vending machine on our way out and get you a carton of milk.”

DeMarcus straightened from the dishwasher. He turned to reach for another dish and was hip bumped from the counter. He looked around.

Jaclyn gave him a winning smile as she placed more dishes into the machine. “Dinner was delicious. Thank you, Marc.”

He shook his head. “I told you my father and I would clear the table. You’re our guest.”

She bent over the dishwasher, organizing the silverware into its holders. “I was a guest the first time. This time, I’d feel like a freeloader if I didn’t help clean up.”

DeMarcus’s gaze wandered to her well-shaped hips. He remembered the feel of her derriere in his hands—soft skin, firm muscles. His palms itched to caress her again. He raised his gaze and met Jaclyn’s eyes. She’d caught him staring at her. The knowing twinkle in her eyes meant she’d guessed his thoughts. Her smile said she shared them.

His lips twitched. “Kitchen duty isn’t my favorite chore.”

Jaclyn wiggled her bottom. “Think of it as foreplay.”

A slow smile stretched his lips. He could learn to like kitchen duty.