Chapter Three
Harte
“Can you help me, please?”
“I’m here to protect and serve,” he joked, leaning over me to pull the strap across my chest. His movement brought his cheek close to mine, and the warmth of his skin enveloped me.
Jet didn’t need cologne—he smelled like Ivory soap and his own natural scent.
I could almost taste him in the air between us.
I’d spent a restless night, replaying our kiss, wondering about our next step.
Jet and me. Together. I grew lightheaded with desire.
Jet’s eyes, the beautiful color of a storm-whipped sky, softened, and for a brief second, his short beard brushed against my jaw. Rough instead of smooth. Hard, not soft. I couldn’t breathe, and as his body heat soaked through me I ached, not from pain but pleasure.
“Better get going,” he rasped and snapped my belt closed before putting on his own. Color rested high on his cheeks, and I admired his strong, sure hands on the wheel as he navigated out of the lot, concentrating on the icy road. At least eight inches of snow had fallen overnight.
“Do you know what happened to my SUV?” I didn’t hold out much hope, and Jet shook his head.
“No, but I’ll put a call in once we get home.”
Home. That sounded so…intimate. Odd, since I’d never seen his place, but somehow I sensed it would be like Jet himself. Warm and filled with care.
We drove past my house, and less than five minutes after, he turned onto a private path and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful Craftsman-style ranch.
The facade was a mix of stone and brick, and huge trees rose tall and proud, promising shade from the sun when they had leaves.
A redbrick path led to the front steps where a porch swing sat, waiting for that warmer weather.
The snowdrifts piled everywhere gave a Norman Rockwell vibe.
“Wait, and I’ll help you out.” Jet swung out the driver’s side, then opened my door. His firm hands gripped under my elbows, and I slid—awkwardly and wincing from my protesting muscles—out of the seat to the ground.
“Shit,” I gasped, and Jet held me closer, steadying me. “Thanks.” Despite the cold, I was sweating, and I put a hand out, finding Jet’s chest.
“No problem. No problem at all.” Our eyes met, and I slid my hand to his shoulder.
Tilting his head to just the right angle, our lips touched, and like the previous night, the kiss was quiet and gentle and everything perfect.
It might’ve been the meds I took before they discharged me, but I preferred to think it was Jet’s mouth on mine that set my head spinning and my heart pounding until I nearly swooned.
“Come on, let’s get inside,” he whispered, taking my hand. I’d been a leader on the field for most of my life, but I was more than willing to allow Jet to take control. He wasn’t dominant, instead tender and careful, holding on to me to make sure I didn’t slip on any icy patches.
He slid his arm around my waist to help me up the stairs, and I was red-faced and panting from the soreness that not even pain pills could mask. He got me settled on the couch and put a blanket around me.
“Thanks.” I peered around. “This is beautiful.”
“I love it. Thank you. It took all my free time, but I finally have it the way I want it.”
I didn’t miss the pride in his voice and was shocked. “You decorated?”
He grinned. “I helped build it, and I decorated every room. Not too shabby, huh?”
The room boasted a vast, wide-open space with whitewashed walls and natural oak beams crisscrossing the fifteen-foot-high ceiling.
One wall held a large fireplace with a gorgeously carved wooden mantel, over which a giant television screen hung.
The floors were a polished, natural, light wood, and the furniture was done in shades of beige, gray, and navy blue.
A huge white island separated the living room from the kitchen, which from a glance, appeared to be outfitted with every professional gadget.
Pans hung from a rack, their coppery glow enhanced by the sun spilling in from the skylights above.
The whole room was bathed in golden light streaming in from multiple picture windows as well as the sliders making up the rear wall of the house.
An expansive white yard led to a far-flung row of trees.
“It’s gorgeous. You could’ve been a builder. Or a decorator.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Neither of which I’m interested in doing for other people. This was a ramshackle mess when I bought it four years ago. I’m not planning on looking at another nail or hammer as long as I live.”
“Still,” I mused, “it’s good to have a skill like that. I don’t know how to do anything but play football.” Thanks to savvy investments and a good agent and lawyer, I might have all the money in the world, but days of nothing stretched before me.
“Hey, it hasn’t been but a minute since you retired. Give yourself time to wind down. I’m sure something will call to you.”
“Retired.” A harsh noise escaped me, pretending to be a laugh. “That’s what I’m calling it, but everyone knows it’s because no other team wanted me after the Kings didn’t renew my contract. They were nice as hell about it and told me to keep in touch, but those are just words.”
“Says who?” Jet sat beside me. “Why would you think that?”
Restless, I threw off the blanket. “Because it’s what you do when you know you’re never going to see someone again.
Pat them on the head, say nice words, and send them on their way.
The Kings don’t owe me anything. And they’ve had Patrick Sloane bring them several Super Bowls in the meantime.
” It took me a few tries, but I got to my feet and walked about the room. Jet gazed after me with anxious eyes.
“Are you sure you should be doing that? Didn’t the doctors say to rest?”
“Rest, yes. Vegetate on the couch, no.” I walked the perimeter of the room and stopped at a wall filled with wildlife and nature pictures. “These are beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
Wide-eyed, I turned to face him. “You took them?”
“Yup. On my days off or when I knocked off from renovating early, sometimes I’d go on walks in the woods. They’re all from my phone camera.”
“Damn. Is there anything you can’t do, Deputy Saunders?” I muttered to myself. “Is there coffee, by any chance? The hospital’s tasted like piss water.”
“I can make you some.”
He brewed some in his fancy machine and gave me a cup. I tasted it and made a face.
“Okay. I finally found something you’re not good at. Even with all this top-of-the-line equipment, you make terrible coffee.” I set the mug on the countertop and snickered at his outraged expression.
“I do not,” he sputtered, then frowned.
“Your houseguests must’ve been more enamored of your other skills to tell you.” I left the innuendo hanging in the air, and the silence thickened between us as Jet circled the island to stand in front of me.
“I’ve never had complaints,” he murmured. “About any of my talents.” He slid a large, calloused hand through my hair, and we locked eyes.
“I’m sure you excel at everything…except coffee-making,” I teased, but my pulse leaped.
“If you think you can do it better, have at it. I’m not territorial when it comes to my kitchen appliances.”
“Good to know.”
Considering I’d never been with a man and my dating life had been pretty drab for the past few years, I couldn’t stop thinking about Jet and what sex might be like with him.
Every time he touched me, my heart kicked into overdrive.
I wanted to be naked with him. To touch him and have him touch me.
Emptiness rose inside me. A longing to be made whole.
I reached out and skimmed my fingers along the strong planes of his face, familiarizing myself with the rough skin of a man, this man, thinking about the scratchiness of his beard against my belly.
My thighs. Everywhere. He stood quiet under my touch, but his blue eyes darkened to a slate gray, and his lips parted as his breath grew short. He ran his knuckles across my cheek.
“I don’t want to hurt you. We’ll go slow. You set the pace. Tell me what you want.”
“I-I’m not sure.” That wasn’t completely true, but I wasn’t ready to voice my feelings.
I wanted his hands on me. My aches and pains weren’t solely from the accident.
I yearned to be touched. I slipped my hands around his waist and molded my body to his and he held me close but didn’t push.
I pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to his lips, and Jet hardened.
He smoothed his hands from my ass up my spine, coming to rest on my shoulders, and kissed my forehead.
“As much as I wish we could go further, I think you should lie down and get some rest.”
Desire raced through me, but he was correct. When Jet and I did get together, I wanted to be able to fully enjoy our time and not be wincing from fresh injuries.
“You’re right.” I let him lead me to the bedroom—his bedroom, not a guest room, given all the personal items on the dresser.
With care, I took off my shirt and gave a rueful nod toward my sweats.
“I should take a shower. Get the hospital smell off me.” Being with Jet had freed my inhibitions, and my earlier nerves vanished.
“We could shower together. Remember, the doctor said I’ll need help. ”
“Good idea. If you slip, I’ll be there to catch you.”
“Yeah. That’s why I thought of it,” I said with a grin, both of us playing along.
“Lemme help you with that.” Jet kneeled at my feet, and I grimaced as he carefully peeled my pants off with my briefs.
Jet stripped as well, and I feasted my eyes on his muscular body—broad shoulders, bulging biceps, and taut, ridged abs.
Even soft, his dick was large, and my breath caught, imagining him in my body.
“Take my hand. In case you’re not steady on your feet.”
I leaned on him as we walked, and couldn’t help kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”