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Straddling the Line(30)

By:Jaci Burton


"You could have refused. But it was an insightful interview into a  player's emotions after a particularly tough end-of-season loss. I know  it was brutal, but you were very honest and I appreciate you giving me  the time."

"You're welcome. And you need to toughen up."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought you were going to hide in the corner of the locker room all  night. It was a perfect opportunity to interview some of the players. As  well as me."

"You were all down."

"And easy prey for a reporter. A lot of us were vulnerable and ready to  spill our guts about how we felt right then. You could have swooped in  and gotten some great interviews. You blew it."

She sighed at the realization. "I know. I need to work on that."

"Yeah, you do." He looked toward the door. "I have to go with the team."

"Yes, you do. And I need to catch my flight back to St. Louis. I'll see you back there."

"Okay."

She watched him get on the bus, then got in her rental car and headed  for the airport. She worked on the flight, writing some copy from her  notes. By the time they landed, she was tired. She took a taxi back to  the house.

Trevor wasn't back yet. She knew his flight left after hers, and they  probably had some team stuff to deal with, so she didn't expect him back  until late. She unpacked and got into bed, turned out the light, and  was asleep within minutes.

She woke to the feel of a warm body next to hers, a hard cock brushing  up against her butt, and a very large callused hand massaging her breast  and teasing her nipple.

She stretched, rubbing her butt up against Trevor's cock, arching  against his hand. He pulled the strap of her tank top down, exposing her  breast so he could tease and pluck at her nipple.

She was still only half awake, and this was a languorous, decadent  interlude. She let Trevor take the lead while she rode along in hazy  pleasure.

He seemed in no hurry, playing with her nipples until she writhed  against him in desperate need. Only then did he slide his hand inside  her panties, cupping her sex. Her clit was tingling, and the touch of  his warm hand sent every fiber of her body into overdrive.

He never said a word to her. It was just touching, and the sound of  their breath-hers ragged and panting as he took her right to the edge of  orgasm. And when she plunged over she gripped his arm, holding him  there while she shattered with loud moans. It felt so good to have him  make her come, to feel his hands on her body while his was stretched out  behind her.

While she recovered from that amazing orgasm, she heard him tear the  condom wrapper open and wriggled out of her underwear. He lifted her  leg, resting it on top of his, then entered her from behind, capturing  her breast once again in his hand as he thrust his cock inside her.

And still, no words had been spoken between them. She didn't need him to  say a word, because they were communicating with their bodies, with the  way he captured her nipple between his fingers and tugged, sending  shocks of pleasure straight to her core while at the same time pulling  his cock partway out and then slowly inching his way inside her again.

It was sweet, slow torture. She felt every inch of him as he entered her  and withdrew, over and over again. And when she reached down to strum  her clit, all she heard was his satisfied "mmm" of approval.

This was just what she'd needed, what she craved the most. Not a fast,  frenzied fucking, but this easy lovemaking, the way his hands made a  slow map of her body as if he had all night to touch her, to kiss the  nape of her neck and take a love bite that sent chills coursing over  every inch of her skin. She increased the pressure on her clit and her  body responded, tightening around his cock.

In answer, he groaned, gripping her hip and pushing deeper into her.  Only now, toward the end, did it become something harder, something more  than just two people lazily fucking. Now, they were reaching the end,  both of them searching for their climax. And as she bucked back against  him and he used his hand to push her forward so he could thrust deeper  inside her, she craved it, needed him to thrust, to give her exactly  what she needed to come.

And when she did, she tilted her head back, crying out as her climax  gripped her in the throes of ecstasy. And as Trevor clasped her tightly  to him, his body shuddering with hers, she'd never felt anything like  these lightninglike pulses that shocked her with such incredible  pleasure.

After, he kissed her shoulder, her back, and they returned to utter  laziness. Part of it was the depletion of her energy reserves. The other  part was a genuine joy to feel him holding her again. She'd missed him  while they were apart. She didn't dare tell him that, though, because it  implied she cared about him in ways even she couldn't admit-wouldn't  admit.         

     



 

This was just fun and games. This was just for now.

So she'd leave it at that.

She half turned and wound her arm around his neck, offering up her lips  for the kiss she needed. He gave her that and more, cupping her face and  kissing her until her world spun.

"Welcome home," she said when he finally pulled back.

"Thanks. I missed you." He withdrew and gave her a playful slap on the butt, then disappeared into the bathroom.

The words spilled from his lips so easily.

Why had they been so hard for her to say?





TWENTY-ONE




HAVEN HADN'T BEEN HOME IN A WHILE. SHE'D LEFT Oklahoma when she'd gotten  the job offer from the network, had settled into her apartment in New  York, and had stayed there, determined to make it work.

She'd almost quit, had almost packed up her things several times,  determined to find a job back home. It had been her mother who'd forced  her to stay in New York, had told her she should at least try before she  gave it up.

And then the assignment to do Trevor's feature story had come up.

Now, she still wasn't certain this was the job she wanted to do for the rest of her life, but at least she was working.

"Excited to see home again?" Trevor asked as they pulled off the turnpike.

"Yes." She was looking forward to seeing her mom. And dreading the visit  home at the same time. For so many reasons, including reliving her  father's last days. She couldn't help but feel the shroud of  overwhelming sadness wash over her, remembering the last time she was  here. She'd left a couple of weeks after her father died. She'd had to  go back to Dallas-back to her job. She'd wanted to stay longer, but her  mom had insisted she start working again. And then she'd gotten the new  job in New York, and it had been a whirlwind of packing and travel,  forcing her to put away her grief to deal with later.

Life went on, her mom said. And so did work. Even her mom had returned to work. It's what we do, she'd said.

But Haven hadn't felt much like working. All she'd wanted to do was be  with her mom and try to make sense of a world without her father in it.

Nothing had made sense back then.

It still didn't. Not without Dad. She still missed his counsel, still  couldn't believe she couldn't pick up the phone and send him a text  message, or call and talk to him whenever she felt like it.

He'd have been devastated about the Rivers' loss. She'd have  commiserated with him. They'd have talked about what went wrong, what  the Rivers could have done better, and how they'd come back stronger  next season. Her dad would have likely called Trevor as well, would give  him a pep talk and tell him how well he'd played this season.

She wondered if Trevor was missing her dad. She wouldn't ask him.

She took a deep breath.

"You okay over there?" Trevor asked.

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"Oh, come on. You can't be tired. Let's get pumped here. I'm looking forward to seeing your mom."

She liked his enthusiasm, but she knew why. "You're looking forward to eating my mom's cooking."

Trevor grinned. "Yeah, there's that, too."

The camera crew was going to meet them down here tomorrow. Today, they'd have a reprieve, and she could focus on seeing her mom.

When they pulled onto the campus and she saw the familiar buildings and  the streets where she'd grown up, she felt both a sense of calm and a  melancholy she couldn't shake. Everything was the same, and yet it was  never going to be the same again.

She used to look forward to coming home, mainly because it was home. Mom  and Dad were there, and she'd always felt safe and welcome here. The  one thing she could always count on was a sense of family, of routine.

Now? It just felt . . . lonely. She didn't know how her mother dealt with this every day.

But when they pulled into the driveway and she saw her mom come outside, her lips tilted.

Yes, this was still home. Mom was here. As soon as Trevor put the car in  park, she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. Her mom came  down the driveway and Haven threw herself into her mother's waiting  arms.

A hug had never felt so good.

"Oh, Haven, I missed you so much."

She might never move from the comforting, welcoming feel of her mom's embrace.

"I've missed you, too."