After we both climax, he kisses me hard, then whispers, “Thank you.”
I giggle at his words. “No need to thank me.” I wink. “You did most of the work.”
He laughs. “I wasn’t thanking you for the sex… although, I am thankful for that.” He smirks playfully. “Thank you for agreeing to go out to dinner with me all those years ago.”
“I should be the one thanking you. After all, it was you who saved me.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “That was all you. I might be your Prince Charming, but you never needed to be saved.”
And they lived happily ever after.
If you enjoyed Finding Prince Charming and want more from this world, you can check out Aria and Giovanni’s story: Finding Beauty in the Darkness
Quarterback Keeper by Lacey Black
Prologue
Ashtyn
“I got the job!” I bellow the moment I’m through the door of my twin brother’s condo. “Alex?” My bliss practically carries me into his living room on a cloud of excitement and anticipation, but the moment I’m through the doorway, it’s not my brother’s face I see. “Oh, sorry,” I mumble the moment my eyes land on the sexy man sprawled out on my brother’s couch.
“Hey, Ashtyn,” he replies in that deep, intoxicating drawl that does dangerous things to panties all over the world. His arm is thrown over his head casually, displaying a large tattoo on the underside of his bicep, and his strong, muscular legs span the entire length of the couch. He’s wearing a T-shirt that hugs his arms and chest and a pair of basketball shorts that seem to do nothing to hide an impressive bulge between his legs. His hazel eyes are darker than I remember and his hair a little messy, as if he just got out of bed. Not to mention the totally irresistible dimple in his chin. He’s pure sex, and the problem is he knows it.
Tate Steele, quarterback for the St. Louis Fire professional football team and my brother’s best friend.
Even if he’s not my type at all, I can still appreciate the glory only created by God himself that is Tate freaking Steele.
But what’s he doing at my brother’s place?
That’s when I notice the ice pack on his knee. “What happened?” I ask, instantly taking a few steps his way.
Big mistake. The moment I do, I catch a whiff of clean, earthy shampoo and pheromone-producing body wash. It makes my nipples prickle with delight.
“A linebacker got a little overzealous in practice the other day. I’m out for another week to rest my knee,” he tells me, his eyes lazily roaming my body from head to toe.
I quickly glance down, realizing in my excitement, I didn’t even change my clothes. I’m still in the pair of small cotton shorts and tank top I was wearing to clean my apartment before the phone call came that changed the course of my future. Well, at least I’m wearing a bra. My eyes meet his as I try to comprehend what he just said.
Tate chuckles, slow and gravelly, and things start to tingle between my legs. “Football, Sweetness. It happened at practice on Wednesday. Thank fuck it’s still early in the preseason, though, I’m not too thrilled with being sidelined for the next week. Fucking second-string QB has had a hard-on for my spot since they signed his ass last year.”
“Oh, uh, well, I’m sorry you’re hurt,” I tell him, glancing around for Alex.
“He’s not here. Got called into work for some big client he’s trying to sign. Said he’d probably be gone all evening, taking him and his family to dinner to grease the wheels.”
My brother is a recruiter and coach and loves his job. He played football growing up and eventually went to Notre Dame, where he met Tate. They were roommates and shared a love for the game. When it was time to graduate, Alex left the game behind and with his bachelor’s degree in sports management started working for Notre Dame as an assistant for the sports program, while Tate, a Heisman Trophy winner, signed a contract with the St. Louis Fire for an obscenely large amount of money. Alex has worked hard, clawing his way up the ranks from the lowest-paid position on the team to being their head recruiter and assistant coach in just six short years.
“Oh,” I mumble, dropping down in the chair with a plop.
“What’s this about a new job?” Tate asks, removing the ice from his knee and tossing it on the coffee table. He turns his large body to face me as if giving me his full attention.
“Um, well, I got a new job at a large library. It’s kind of a big deal,” I tell him, intentionally vague about the position. Tate Steele doesn’t care about books, and I’m pretty sure the only time he ever set foot in a library was to make out in the back.
His hazel eyes hold my gaze for a few extra seconds and something that looks a lot like pride flashes through them. “Wow, congrats, Ash. When do you start?”
“Next month,” I reply, leaving out the part that involves relocating to an entirely different state. With this job comes a lot of change, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.
“Alex will be excited for you,” he insists, giving me a genuine smile. Not one of those cocky, conceited smirks he flashes on television that makes women everywhere take off their panties.
I’ve seen and heard the tabloid stories on Tate. He’s a playboy, an arrogant bachelor with a black book list of phone numbers longer than the Chicagoland phonebook. He never goes anywhere without a piece of arm candy at his side and is photographed constantly with the most beautiful women in the world.
I, on the other hand, prefer quiet evenings in. I don’t even have cable. Not Netflix or whatever streaming sites are available. My best friend is a teacher at the school district I work for, and as far as my social calendar goes, it’s usually filled up with long nights of reading Jane Austen, Harper Lee, and the Bronte sisters.
We’re so far apart on the social circle scale we might as well be on different planets.
“I have an idea,” he says, clapping his hands together and getting up. Before he tells me what’s on his mind, he bends and stretches his knee. “How about we celebrate? Since I’m supposed to be laying low for a few days, we can order food and have it delivered.”
My heart literally can’t decide if it wants to stop beating all together or pirouette in my chest. “Oh, that’s not necessary,” I insist, jumping up and backing toward the front door. Suddenly, I’m all too aware of the fact I’m alone with an incredibly sexy man and I look like I’ve been scrubbing baseboards and behind my kitchen appliances all day.
“No, I insist. Your brother would definitely want to celebrate, right? So, let’s celebrate, Ashtyn.” There’s something in his warm hazel eyes that says I can trust him, which is crazy, considering I’ve really only met him a handful of times.
“Um, I’m not sure I’m celebration ready,” I state, glancing back down at my way too casual, way too exposed outfit.
Tate’s eyes drop to my chest before returning to meet mine. “You look great, Ash. And we’re staying in, remember?”
“Oh, uh,” I start but struggle to find another excuse as to why I need to go home.