The Jock (7 page)

"Who
died?"

Sam
started at the sound of that familiar voice. He glanced quickly at her before
turning around to open the refrigerator door. He cleared his throat. "What
do you mean by that, Gwen?"

Gwenyth
shrugged her shoulders as she watched Sam fiddle around with the condiments in
his hand. "When I first walked in here you had this really sad look on
your face." She cocked her head and studied him. "Don't tell me your
contract negotiations went badly."

I
wish that was my worst problem, Cupcake.

"Of
course not." Sam placed the A-1 sauce next to the ketchup then swung
around to look at her. "Went great. No complaints there."

She
bit her lip. "I'm glad."

He
shuffled on his feet. "Me too."

They
studied each other in silence for a long moment, then both started to speak at
the same time. "Sam," Gwen said. "Gwen," Sam began. They
looked at each other and burst out laughing.

After
that, the conversation flowed freely between them. They stood there, just the
two of them, reminiscing about old times and catching each other up on what
they'd missed in the ten years since they'd last seen one another.

"After
college, I turned down an offer from
Vogue
to form
Jones
&
Jones
with Grandmama." She smiled owlishly. "It turned out to be
the right decision. I couldn't be happier any place else than I am at
Jones
& Jones
."

Sam
snorted, chuckling slightly. "Can't blame you there, Cupcake. I'm sure
workin' for yourself holds a lot of advantages over workin' for someone else. I
can't say I'd mind that at all."

Gwenyth
shrugged elegantly. "It has its downsides too. Knowing that people are
counting on you to not bounce their paychecks carries a lot of pressure on
Grandmama and myself to accumulate new accounts." She grinned.
"Luckily we only have three employees at the moment and Grandmama's a
natural born businesswoman if ever there was one."

Sam
laughed. It felt so good talking to Gwen like this, being near her, getting to
know her all over again. "I can believe that about Verlene Jones. The
woman's as graceful as a southern swan, but as sharp as a serrated blade."

A
trill of Gwen's laughter peeled through the kitchen. It occurred to Sam that
church bells at mass on Christmas Eve couldn't have sounded prettier.
"True." She gestured toward him animatedly. "And what about you?
Do you like playing for the New England Crusaders?"

Sam
scratched his chin as he considered the answer to that question. "Yes and no."

"Oh?"

He
smiled impishly at Gwen. "I've been paid well to do something I've had a
helluva good time doin'. How can I complain?"

Gwen
crossed her arms over her breasts and notched a tawny eyebrow. "I sense a
but
coming on here."

Sam
shrugged. "Please don't go repeatin' this to anybody else because I'm not
quite ready to go public with it, but I've decided to retire when this last
contract is up."

"You're
kidding?"

He
shook his head. "I'm not like a lot of ballplayers out there, Cupcake. I
can accept the fact that I'm aging, that I'm not as fast as I used to be, that
my injuries take longer to heal than they did even two or three years
ago."

"You
can accept retiring at thirty-four?"

"Now
hold on!" Sam grinned. "I just signed another two year contract, if you
will recall. Make that thirty-six, Cupcake.
Thirty-six
."

Gwenyth
laughed. "Okay, thirty-six. And then what will you do?" Thinking
better of it, she held up a hand to forestall his answering that question.
"Never mind. I suspect I know what you'll do."

"You
know me so well, do you now?"

"Uh
huh."

Sam
inclined his head toward Gwen in a teasing gesture of mockery. "Then by
all means, Gwenyth Marie, tell me."

Gwenyth
nibbled on her bottom lip briefly. Finally, she looked up at him with a shrug
and chuckled. "Whatever it is, it will have to do with anthropology,
namely archeology."

Damn.
She did know him so well.
Sam felt something in the vicinity of his heart turn
over. "Yeah well..." He swallowed faintly. "I think maybe you're
right."

Harry
wandered in a few minutes later, announcing that he had to go home to work on
his speech for the campaign dinner, but would pick Sam up for breakfast the
following morning. He offered to let his old pal crash at his apartment, but
Sam declined, genuinely looking forward to spending some time catching up with
Willy and Verlene.

Harry
stayed and chatted for a while, distracted from his plans by a shared sense of
nostalgia. The reminiscing felt amazingly good to all of them.

Twenty
minutes later, however reluctantly, Harry clapped Sam affectionately on the
back. "I'll see you tomorrow, old man." With that departing potshot,
he kissed Gwenyth on the cheek, made his good-byes to his retiring
grandparents, and strolled out the back door whistling.

Sam
and Gwenyth were alone again.

Both
of them felt the awkward silence caused by Harry's abrupt leave-taking fall
between them like a thick cloud of awareness. It was as tense as it had been
when she'd first come upon Sam in the kitchen after supper. Only this time it
was interwoven with a sexual awareness. Gwenyth cleared her throat and grinned
at Sam. He shuffled nervously and grinned back.

Gwenyth
placed her hands in the back pockets of her cutoffs and rocked back and forth
on her heels. "Sam, I..." She blew out a breath and shrugged her
shoulders in a gesture meant to be cavalier, but she knew it wasn't.

Sam
arched an inquisitive brow. He inclined his head down to Gwenyth, prodding her
to finish her thought. "Go on Gwen. What were you about to say?"

Gwenyth
took a deep breath and expelled it daintily. "I just wanted to say that
I'm really glad you came back." She shrugged her hands out of her back
pockets and splayed them at her sides. "We've all missed you a lot,
Sam."

Sam
swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Maybe things weren't as hopeless as he'd
first thought. Maybe he'd have Gwen yet. "Cupcake, I..."

The
phone rang, breaking both of them out of the fleeting experience of intimacy
they'd just shared. Gwenyth threw him an apologetic look and swung around to
answer the phone. Sam studied her sweet backside as she padded away from him
and toward the wall where the only non-portable phone left in the house had
resided for at least twenty years. "Hello?"

"Oh
hi Trevor."

Trevor?
Who the hell is Trevor?

"No,
I haven't forgotten. I'm sorry I haven't called you back, but I've been real
busy."

Who
the hell is Trevor?

"Yeah.
That will be fine. Reservations are for eight o'clock? Okay, pick me up around
seven-thirty then."

Pick
her up? I. Don't. Think. So.

"Great.
I'll see you then."

Over
my dead, mutilated, decapitated body.

"Okay.
Take care now. Goodbye, Trevor."

I'm
losing it here. I'm losing it big time.

"Who
is Trevor?"
Sam
grimaced at his own words, knowing at once that his tone of voice had betrayed
him. He'd asked that question far from nonchalantly. He'd sounded more like a
possessive husband acting as though he'd caught his wife in the act of cheating
on him. Struggling to maintain his dignity, he asked in a calmer voice,
"who is Trevor, Gwen?"

Gwenyth
threw him a wide-eyed look, as though she had forgotten he was standing there.
Sam released a mental sigh. Perhaps she hadn't picked up on his telltale
jealousy after all. "He's the guy I've been dating."

On
the other hand, there was nothing wrong with a little jealousy now and again.
"The
what
?"

Gwenyth's
wide jade eyes rounded all the more. "The guy I've been dating."

"You've
been datin'
a
guy
?"

Her
green orbs narrowed defensively. "You know Sam, there
are
men on
this planet who find me attractive." She thrust her balled hands
indignantly to her hips. "Not every guy in the universe prefers emaciated
women like Stacy to women shaped like
real
women!"

Sam's
nostrils flared. He stalked toward her slowly, causing Gwenyth to gulp. Perhaps
she shouldn't have mentioned his ex-wife. "You think I don't know
that?" Sam backed her up against the nearest wall and smacked his hands on
either side of her head. "You think I don't know just how good you look to
a guy?"

Gwenyth's
eyes widened considerably. "Well, I...uh... well... what exactly are you
saying here, Sam?"

"What
I'm sayin'," he growled as he reached for Gwenyth's topknot to hold her
securely in place, "is
this
."

Sam
crushed his mouth to Gwenyth's in a searing kiss that robbed both of them of
breath. All thoughts of strategy and calmly luring the doe toward him flew out
the window along with his temper. Sam's kiss was punishing and possessive,
desperate and provocative all at once.

Gwenyth
yelped in surprise, then sighed in acquiescence. Twining her hands around Sam's
neck, she gave herself up to a lifetime of penned up hopes and longings.

She
met his kiss, passion for passion. Sam's lips on hers felt hot and hard, fairly
robbing her of sanity and chasing away any coherent thought. All Gwenyth could
do was feel.

Sam
moaned into her throat, then deepened the kiss in a way he'd been wanting to
since he'd first laid eyes on Cupcake this afternoon. He forcefully slipped his
tongue into her mouth, then bit back a groan when Gwenyth enthusiastically
accepted him inside of her.

Their
tongues twined and twirled around each other for a long moment, both of them
releasing every ounce of passion that had been built up and stored away these
past years.

Sam
couldn't believe how hot Gwenyth was making him. And she had to know it too.
His erection was pressed against her belly in a way that made denial
impossible. Not that he wanted to deny it. Hell, he wanted to have her here and
now.

Without
breaking their kiss, Sam released his hold on Gwenyth's face and drew his hands
downward to cup her bottom. The lusciously rounded orbs felt so good in his
palms, just the perfect size... as if they'd been made especially for
him
to
knead and caress.

Lifting
Gwenyth up against his arousal, Sam groaned into her mouth when she locked her
knees around his waist. He pinned her fully against the wall, slowly grinding
his erection into her hips in a way that left nothing about his intentions to
the imagination.

Gwenyth
moaned and gave it right back to him. She continued to stroke his tongue with
her own, while at the same time nudging his arousal with the cleft of her
womanhood. Though she was wearing cutoffs, her clitoris ached with need as if
there was no barrier between them at all.

Time
stood still for Sam and Gwenyth as they played and teased, touched and needed,
each of their bodies making promises of shared passion to the other. It was
only when Sam began unzipping her jeans shorts and tried to pull them down that
reality began to intrude for both of them.

Gwenyth
released a surprised little shriek. Sam's eyes rounded. As if shocked by his
own actions in Verlene's and Willy's home, he tore his mouth away from
Gwenyth's and, panting heavily, slowly lowered her to the ground. Lord have
mercy, he felt as out of control as a bull in full rut. They could have been
walked in on at any time.

Gwenyth
straightened immediately, though her labored breathing gave away the fact that
she was still as turned on as Sam was. When she finished zipping up her shorts
and slicking her hair back with her hands, she turned and looked up at Sam.

Sam's
gaze raked possessively over her as he took in Gwenyth's signs of arousal.
Flushed face. Heavy breathing. Erect nipples.

Sam
reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb over one of Gwenyth's aroused
nipples, right through her shirt. When she sucked in her breath, he peered into
her eyes, meeting her gaze.

Trailing
his hand under the jersey, Sam's fingers made a searing path up Gwenyth's belly
and toward her breast. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath as his
thumb and forefinger latched onto a nipple and stroked it slowly from base to
peak, over and over again.

Heady
from her reaction, Sam brought his other hand under the jersey to do the same
with Gwenyth's other nipple. She whimpered weakly, causing him to smile with
calculated satisfaction.

The
situation was definitely not hopeless.

Sam
continued to fondle Gwenyth's breasts as her breathing grew more and more
sporadic. He had her just where he wanted her.

When
she opened her eyes to gaze into his, he kissed Gwenyth gently on the forehead.
He met her wide-eyed stare as he stroked her nipples, over and over, sending
her into a haze of longing and need.