Playing Rough

  Playing Rough

  Short Story #1

  Forbidden Plays Series

  By Zoe Dawson

  Published by Blue Moon Creative, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright by Karen Alarie. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your preferred vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author Note

  I make every effort to research thoroughly all subject matter, but I’m not infallible. If you find anything in my novels that I have incorrect, please feel free to let me know.

  ISBN: 978-0-9909075-0-3

  Find Zoe Dawson on the web!

  Website

  Twitter

  Facebook

  Facebook Page

  Goodreads

  Blog

  Cover Design by Zoe Dawson

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank beta readers Sue Stewart, Leisha O’Quinn, and Gail Demaree. Thank you, also, to Faith Freewoman for her excellent advice and editing skills and to my proofreader, Judy Witvoet DeVries.

  Dedication

  To every woman on this planet who has fantasized about those grid iron heroes.

  The Story

  It took every ounce of Catherine Everhart’s self-control not to stare at Shane Bishop, nicknamed Monster Man, who lounged with deceptive ease like a hungry predator across the conference table of the posh offices of the San Diego Wildcats. The Wildcats believed community support initiatives were an important part of their football franchise image, and Shane was spokesperson for the Wildcats’ new Touch the Moon Foundation, set up to aid single parents and their children. Although she hadn’t worked closely with him, Cat saw Shane often in her capacity as community relations assistant.

  As her boss Holly Masters spoke, Shane turned partway in Cat’s direction and stole a sideways glance at her. Her heart pounded just a little bit harder. She couldn’t stop thinking about the bulge he sported every Sunday beneath his skintight football pants, his fine ass looking so taut. He must be huge. She shivered.

  He did it again and this time his gaze lingered, caressing her eyes, her cheekbones, the fall of her sassy red hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him slide his scorching, nearly savage gaze down her throat, lingering over her breasts long enough to make them tingle and her nipples harden. Slow, seductive heat mushroomed inside Cat, drenching her aching core. She crossed her legs to keep from squirming and that monster of a man smiled.

  Shane was, in fact, a massive monster of a man. He was a strong safety on the Wildcats’ impressive defensive team and played close to the line of scrimmage. Because of his ability to cover the deep zone—man, she’d like him to cover her deep zone—and defend against runs, he was All-American, currently the leading safety in sacks, touchdowns, and recoveries in the league.

  Most of the women in her office were hot for veteran Clay Masters, the Wildcats’ equally hunky quarterback. She wasn’t sure how Holly felt about it. She was Clay’s ex-wife, but Cat wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten over their public break-up and divorce. Rumors were rampant that Clay had been cheating, but that was never proven.

  But Cat only had eyes for Shane, all six feet, two inches of his 212-pound massive body. He had to have a big cock, and she was dying to measure—and savor—every inch of it with her mouth and tongue.

  She bit her lip in frustration. Problem was he was strictly off limits. Raymond T. Harding, owner, CEO, and killjoy of the Wildcats, prohibited front office employees from fraternizing with the players.

  But the forbidden aspect just added a layer of sizzling excitement to the temptation. It didn’t help that Shane was drop-dead gorgeous, with shaggy, jet black hair, slashing cheekbones, sensually full lips and almond-shaped eyes, suggesting an Asian ancestor somewhere in his family tree.

  “Cat, do you think you can handle that?”

  Oh, shit, the boss is talking to me. Bad move, since the promotion she’d worked so hard for was hanging in the balance. It was between her and that suck-up, Dick Samuels. Dragging her eyes from Shane to Holly, a very attractive brunette who was both fair and smart, who sat waiting patiently, she realized she had absolutely no idea what Holly was talking about. Holly was about ten years older than Cat and had been on the fast track. She’d just been promoted to player relations after receiving her law degree. She was now vacating the community relations position, giving Cat an opportunity to advance.

  “I’m sorry, Holly, but what did you say?”

  “I’m assigning you to bring Shane up to speed for the Touch the Moon Foundation event next Friday night. Halloween fits right into our moon theme.”

  “Work with Shane…I mean Mr. Bishop?” she squeaked and finally met Shane’s eyes. They were mysterious and deep, seeming to suck her into a whirling blackness from which she had no desire to escape. Yet, even though he met her eyes calmly, Cat could see something dangerous and wild just below the surface, waiting to break free.

  “Is that a problem, Ms. Everhart?” Shane asked. He had a slow way of speaking that she found irresistible. She would lie awake at night thinking about the naughty nothings he’d whisper in her ear.

  “No. Not at all.” Cat stood and turned to Shane. “Mr. Bishop, if you’ll follow me.”

  “Anywhere you want to lead me, Ms. Everhart,” he whispered in her ear in his unhurried, rumbly voice. She closed her eyes to gather her composure. Unfortunately, it only served to focus her senses. She felt the heat from his big body, smelled his spicy hot scent, and was surrounded by the resonant, deep timbre of his voice.

  She decided to ignore his comment as she told her hormones to heel. They told her to shut up and fuck him hard. And a rush of rebellion burned through her. Screw the whole forbidden thing! It only added to his allure.

  He was a big, enticing presence at her back while she led him to her corner office. She entered and turned to direct him to a chair, but Shane kept walking and plowed right into her, knocking her backwards. The grip of his big hands on her upper arms saved her from a fall.

  “Are you falling for me, Ms. Everhart?”

  He knows. Of course he knew. She practically undressed him every time she looked at him. Her breath caught as she gazed at his face. A face that was much too close and much too handsome.

  “Dangerous ground, Mr. Bishop.”

  “Shane.”

  “I think it’s safer if I call you Mr. Bishop.”

  “Shane. I insist.”

  He flashed her one of those melting grins and she found herself nodding like one of those plastic dogs in the back window of a car.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” Her assistant Lizzy Jordan poked her head in and smiled. Shane released Cat and sat down in a chair in front of her desk.

  “Coffee, black, please,” Shane said. He was wearing a pair of tight jeans with the knees ripped out and a tattered Wildcats sweatshirt in the team colors of gold and black—a faded but still ferocious wildcat on the front, and she knew she’d see “Bishop” imprinted in gold letters across his impossibly broad shoulders. With the sleeves ripped off, his biceps bulged and flexed when he moved.

>   Which in turn made her crave and ache all the more.

  “What can I get for you, Cat?” Lizzy asked.

  “Huh?” Cat said, her eyes on Shane.

  He looked at her and smirked.

  “To drink?” Lizzy pantomimed a beverage with her cupped hand to her mouth.

  A bucket of ice water. “Water. Cold water, thanks,” Cat said, trying to force her mind to concentrate on business. She picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to Shane. “Here’s the speech I drafted for you. You can add or subtract whatever you’d like.”

  Shane scanned it while Lizzy walked in with the drinks. Cat took them. Lizzy left, closing the door behind her. Cat put the water down on her desk, swiveling towards Shane at the same moment that he reached for the coffee cup. His hand hit the cup and knocked it. Hot coffee splashed onto his thigh.

  His gasp of pain sliced through her. “I’m so sorry. Are you burned?” She set the cup down and grabbed the tissue box sitting on her desk, wiping at the coffee on his leg. As she swiped, her arm came into contact with his groin and the hard, rigid bulge beneath his zipper. Suddenly, she was the one burning.

  Shane Bishop didn’t know what was more tantalizing, having Cat’s hands on his thigh or her arm against his raging hard-on.

  When her arm brushed the full heat of his throbbing dick, his eyes almost crossed. Fuck, but she turned him on, and it took everything he had to resist picking her up, throwing her across the desk, and pumping into her slick, heated pussy.

  Her smoky gray-blue eyes snapped up to his. In the three years he’d played for the Wildcats, he’d never been able to stop fantasizing about what it would be like to have her in his bed. Hell, against a wall, on the floor, on a desk. He didn’t give a damn. But that stupid Hardass Harding rule forced him to keep his distance. But the way she looked at him? Yeah, his restraint wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Oh no,” Cat whispered as she backed away, dropping the sodden tissues in a trashcan. Shane rose, unable to resist the pull of her, knowing he was crossing the line, but unable to stop. He stepped closer, his attraction warring with a self-control that was waning fast.

  Her hands flattened firmly against his chest. “Shane. We can’t.”

  “You want me. I know you do.”

  She nodded. Her hands moved against his pecs and her hands weren’t pushing him away, but clenching in the fabric. His dick pulsed, hard as he thought about her holding on to him while he went deep.

  When he looked down, his gaze snagged on the hard points of her nipples, beading against the soft silk of her shirt. “Never been one for rules.”

  “I bet you know how to break them good.”

  “Lock the door and I’ll show you how I break them…bad.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, her voice soft and breathy, and his control slipped another notch. Her eyes went to his mouth and lingered there. He wanted her soft, luscious lips, too.

  “One kiss. I just need to know.”

  Cat threw a look at the door. “If someone were to walk in….”

  “Yeah. Makes it exciting. Take a walk on the wild side—Wild Cat.”

  Her hands skimmed up from his chest to the back of his neck and her lips slammed against his. The hungry monster inside him lunged and snapped free of its tight leash.

  Her mouth was ravenous, skilled, and glorious. She opened to him and he groaned. Her taste was hot and sweet and he wanted more. Her hands found the hem of his sweatshirt and snaked underneath, the warmth of her palms brushing over his tight, hard nipples. His heart beat in rhythm to those soft, searing sweeps. His hands got busy with her shirt, undoing buttons until he could slide his fingers along the curved plumpness of one breast.

  He lifted his head slightly, stared down at her heavy-lidded, freaking beautiful green eyes. Got lost in her. With a soft curse, he changed the slant of his kiss, settling his mouth more firmly over hers, squeezing her breast roughly, his thumb rubbing over her nipple until she was gasping into his mouth.

  He needed more. His hands went to the navy blue skirt she was wearing. As he pressed her back against the desk, he hiked it up, his hand on her creamy, soft thigh. Hooking his fingers into the scalloped top of the cup of her pink concoction of a bra, he jerked it down and his mouth clamped onto the tight bud of her nipple. She arched her back and cried out softly. With uncontrollable bursts, his hips bucked against hers, his dick straining against the zipper of his jeans. His hand went to her hot little box, pressing against her panties. She was drenched. For him. Damn, what a turn-on. He shoved aside her underwear impatiently and plunged three of his thick fingers into her slick channel.

  She clutched his shoulders and he laved her nipple with broad strokes of his tongue, bit down with a growl, then sucked her hard. When he pressed his thumb against her clit, she jerked and buried her face into his neck to muffle the sound.

  He was well aware they could get caught and it only heightened the danger, the forbidden quality of having her against the rules.

  She thrust her hips, murmuring his name, her muffled groans increasing. Her open mouth panted against his skin as her tongue licked and sucked until she cried out and stiffened. She went liquid against him with the most delectable feminine sound he already craved to hear again.

  “Is she in her office?”

  They both froze at the sound of Dick Samuels’ voice, and then whirled when they heard the swift knock and the twisting doorknob.

  Panic clutched with piercing claws and all the hot sensations that thundered in her every pulse point dulled. Damn that jerk. Still stunned, she drew a stabilizing breath.

  Shane moved with the lightning speed he was known for on the football field. He shoved his shoulder against the door and whispered. “Cat...”

  Cat looked down to see her skirt hiked up and her blouse hanging open, the aftershocks of her orgasm still pumping through her. She took deep, calming breaths while she tugged her skirt down and fumbled with the buttons, her nipple still damp from his mouth, aching and throbbing still.

  The door opened slightly, but Shane leaned in and it closed in Dick’s face.

  “Catherine? Are you in there?”

  “Tell him the door sticks,” Shane whispered with an unholy grin on his face.

  Cat had to suppress a laugh in spite of the serious situation.

  “I’m sorry, Dick. The door sticks.” She was almost to the top button. All she had left was to tuck her blouse back into her skirt. “Shane, could you help Dick with the door?” She almost choked on her giggles.

  As soon as she was finished with her clothes, she scooted behind her desk and picked up her water.

  “Dick, you might want to put your shoulder into it,” Shane said, and as soon as he did, Shane let go of the door and stepped back. Dick stumbled into Cat’s office and Cat had to grit her teeth and swallow to hold back laughter.

  Glaring at Shane, then at her, Dick straightened and yanked his suit coat back into place. “Do you have the list of patrons for the Halloween night event?” he snapped.

  Cat leaned forward and scanned her desk. “Here it is.”

  Dick came over and snatched the folder out of her hands. He walked to the door and eyed it before grasping the handle. Just before he shut it, he looked at Cat. “Get maintenance to fix this door.”

  She nodded, biting the inside of her mouth.

  The moment the door closed, her eyes sought out Shane’s. “Yeah, get maintenance to check out the door,” Shane mimicked perfectly, and laughed. “The douche.”

  “You are so bad.” Cat couldn’t help but join in. But her laughter faded when Shane walked over and put both hands on the arms of her chair. Her mouth went dry when he leaned forward.

  “You have no idea how bad I can be, and I promise all that badness will be so damned good for you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her moist lips. She kissed him back, clung to his mouth. He pulled away enough to whisper. “I want to fuck you. Right now. Pick a surface. I don’t care. I just want my dick buried in
you until I can’t think, fucking you until you make that sound for me again.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against the erection in his jeans.

  She wanted to throw all caution to the wind as she leaned forward, reaching for his zipper.

  “Cat?” Holly’s voice came through the door.

  “Dammit. Cold reality doused her and she sighed, pulling away. “It’s time that we really do some work, Shane.”

  He dropped his head and a thick lock of hair fell over his forehead. She ached to push it back.

  He lifted his head, his laser gaze drawing her in. “We both know what we want, Cat.”

  She got up at the knock and Holly’s voice again as she sidled past that mountain of muscle. Cold reality doused her again. This was madness. She loved her job. He wouldn’t be the one who was fired. Coming to her senses, she said, “I won’t deny I’m attracted, but I can’t take the chance.”

  “I did only ask for one kiss.” He moved away from her chair and sat, drawing the hem of his sweatshirt over the huge bulge in his pants. Cat groaned inwardly. Damn she wanted to see him, all of him.

  Cat drew in a shaky, grateful breath. “And you took a little bit more,” she said as she reached the door.

  His eyes lingered on her lips. “Now I know why they say a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

  ###

  Cat rubbed at the back of her neck as she left the Wildcats’ office at the end of the day. Her thoughts heavily on Shane and what had happened and almost happened in her office. When she reached her car, her footsteps slowed. Shane was leaning against it. Her heart stopped, he was so gorgeous. He’d changed, shaved, and tamed his unruly hair. He was wearing a silky red T-shirt and a pair of sinfully tight black jeans.

  “I can see by your expression that you aren’t too happy I’m here, but I thought we could continue the discussion about the Halloween Night fundraiser over dinner.”