Sacked By the Quarterback Read Online Free Page A

of anybody I wanted there.”
    “Your parents. Old coaches. Best pals.” Mandy listed them off on her fingers.
    “You know what I mean. My mom will be there. Coach Sims is bringing her. Other than them, there's nobody.
    "Why is your old football coach taking her? What about your dad?"
    "My dad passed away six years ago in the off season.”
    "I'm sorry. He always seemed nice." Mandy stared at the pattern of wood on the table.
    He nodded and stared at the tabletop.
    Mandy clenched her hands to keep from reaching for him. “So you want me to go to the Super Bowl now?”
    “No, I mean yes.” He reached across the table and took her hands. “What I want is for you to be in my life. I thought I’d be able to just walk in here and you’d be all over the chance to get back together with me.”
    “You did always have a rampant ego.” Her stomach churned. Get back together with him? Being with him in high school had been crazy fun, but part of that was the sneaking around. She’d always had the sense that he didn’t want his friends to know so she’d kept away from him in the halls unless she had a tutoring related message to deliver. That should have been a sign, but what high school girl with the eye of the BMOC was going to do anything risk that?
    He started rubbing his thumb in circles in the middle of her palm. Nice. Scary nice.
    “Will you cut me some slack?”
    “I am. I haven’t thrown you out.”
    “If you want me to go that bad, I’ll go. I don’t need this shit.” He stood up and started past her, but she grabbed his wrist. He stopped.
    For a moment she couldn’t speak. The war between wanting and being afraid took all her concentration. If he really meant what he said, she could get back to that Eden they’d shared in high school. “Hold on a minute.”
    “Why? You’ve been pretty clear.”
    “And you think you know me.” She stood up so she could be in range of his body heat. In high school he’d been really well built, but that was nothing compared to now. She still had her hand around his wrist and even there she could feel the fine tuned power of his arms. “You have to remember that this is coming out of left field for me.”
    “Wrong sport.” His lips curled with humor.
    “Very funny.” She looked up to study his dark eyes. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”
    “How could it be a joke? We’re in your house. Where would I hide the camera?”
    She unbuttoned his coat. Under it he was wearing an innocent enough blue knit shirt that struggled to stretch across his perfect chest. She caressed the material as if she was looking for a wire. Mercy. “Nothing here.”
    “Told you.”
    “It just feels a little like Candid Camera .” She pushed his coat off his shoulders and let it drop behind him.
    “ Candid Camera would not allow this.” He hooked his fingers through the sash of her robe and pulled it open.
    She hadn’t bothered to put on a bra after her bath so when his hand closed around her breast it was only covered by the thin material of her nightgown. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him down to kiss her.
    “You’re not going to kick me out afterward again, are you?” he murmured against her mouth.
    “Haven’t decided yet.”
    He kissed her, teasing her tongue into his mouth. Cradling her head with one hand, he slid the other under her robe to the small of her back with only the sheer rayon barrier of her nightgown between his flesh and hers. Why had she put a nightgown on in the first place? Nothing would have been so much more efficient.
    “How about now?” he asked when he let her up for air.
    “Eight-five percent sure.”
    “I like those odds.” He lifted her and carried her upstairs like she weighed nothing. “Which door?”
    “What? Are you too good for backseats now?”
    “No more backseats, not with you. Maybe the occasional desk or kitchen table though. Which door?”
    Mandy nodded to toward the bedroom door. He carried her through,