"The general manager from the Outlaws is holding for you on line one," Amy finished.
Unease shivered through Julie. Even though her office was just blocks from the new stadium beside the Bay, she'd never gone to an Outlaws game. She couldn't--not when her biggest mistake was the team's star quarterback.
The latte curdled in her stomach with a sick premonition. She'd have had to be blind to miss Ty's failures with the media.
Julie stood beneath the safety of her door frame as if taking cover from an earthquake, unable to think, to move.
She could only remember the most important-- and disastrous--night of her life.
It was high school graduation night, and Julie's teachers had all congratulated her on being honored as valedictorian. She would be attending Stanford University in the fall; and even though she'd be less than two hours from home, she was excited about the chance to get away, to become someone new.
Somehow she'd made it all the way to eighteen without ever being really kissed. Sure, a drunk guy at a party had once slobbered all over her before she shoved him away, but that didn't count.
No one would believe her if she confessed the truth. Not that she'd do that, of course. What was the point of carefully constructing her image over the past four years if she was going to blow it by announcing to the world that she couldn't attract a guy if her life depended on it?
Especially not a super-hot guy like Ty Calhoun, she thought as she stood on the fringes of the out-of control graduation party and sipped the slightly sour punch. For four years they'd passed each other in the halls, but she'd never spoken to him. She was in honors classes, while he barely scraped by with tutors. The best high school football player in the county, Ty was constantly surrounded by his teammates and cheerleading groupies. His entourage. And she'd bet her trust fund that he'd done it with every one of those girls.
She could hear him laughing as he danced in a circle of fellow students. There was an edge to his laughter that went down her spine and then sat in the pit of her belly. Julie wasn't a social outcast, but she'd never been comfortable at wild parties, never had a taste for alcohol, never been tempted by pot or cigarettes.
She didn't intend to lose hold of the control that she'd built her life around. If her tongue grew loose from booze or drugs, who knew what she'd say? What she'd admit to? Too quickly, the house of cards that was her life could come crumbling down, and everything would be ruined.
Still, she was impossibly, horribly tempted by Ty, a bad boy with a capital B.
Fortunately, the sinful temptation that Ty embodied was way out of her league. If there was such a thing as a babe magnet, Ty fit the bill. No high school boy should be that tall, have shoulders that broad, or dark eyes so wicked.
But she wasn't going to spend her last night in high school drooling at some guy from the sidelines, watching with senseless longing as Ty did the bump and grind with some slutty classmates. It was too pathetic. She found the nearest exit and pushed through it.
Mere seconds after the door shut behind her, she heard it open again. A chill ran up her spine that had nothing to do with the breeze ripping across the Bay. She whirled away from the view of the Golden Gate Bridge. Backing into the deck's metal rail, the bar cold against her overheated skin, she watched the boy she longed for stalk her, slowly, steadily.
She'd fantasized about this moment so many times. The one where Ty finally noticed her, where he asked her to be his girlfriend, where he said he couldn't live without her anymore. She could practically choreograph it.
But now that he was standing in front of her, now that she was looking into his incredible brown eyes, close enough to touch his arm if she wanted to, she didn't know up from down, black from white, could hardly even remember her own name.
"I'm Ty," he said, and she nodded stupidly.
"I know."
His gorgeous lips turned up in a perfect curve. He was even more beautiful up close, like some Greek god come to life.
"You're Julie," he said and she said, "I know," again, sounding like a complete moron.
"Do you know what I want to do, Julie?" he asked, and she could only stare at him. Her lips parted slightly as she held her breath, waiting to hear what he was going to say. His eyes held her captive and her longing was just short of desperation.
"I want to kiss you." His voice fell to a whisper. "Actually, I want you to kiss me."
She blinked at him, suddenly afraid. She didn't know how to kiss. What if he laughed at her? She'd die if he laughed at her.
"Don't you want to kiss me, Julie?"
His voice was silky and hot and she forgot everything except how badly she wanted him.
"Yes," she said. "I do."
"Good."
That one short word rocked through her with its intensity. He said it again, "Good," and something hot settled in between her thighs. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything her entire life.
She moved closer to the boy she had a crush on and went up onto her tippy toes to get closer to his sinfully perfect mouth. He tilted his face down and she reached one hand up to caress his beautiful, angular jaw, running her thumb over his cheek, touching the light shadow of hair dusting his chin.
She was so overwhelmed by just the merest touch of skin on skin that she forgot she was supposed to press her lips to his.
It was a good thing that Ty was no stranger to lust, because he didn't wait for her to come out of her trance. Instead, he went about taking what he wanted--and she loved that she was what he wanted.
He turned his face into her hand, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, and she shivered at the delicious sensations running through her. She wanted to touch his full, perfect mouth with hers, and her need was raw and desperate as she found him with her lips. With her tongue.
He tasted like wild summer nights, a hint of some unidentifiable alcohol, and passion.
Intense pleasure roared through her as they kissed, his tongue finding a sensitive spot in the corner oj her lips. Pushing closer, she instinctively rocked her hips into him, his erection cradled against her belly.
"Enough messing around," he growled, taking her mouth rough and hard. The more he gave her, the more she wanted. She laid her tongue and teeth and hands into him with a fury that matched his. He lifted her up in his arms, wrapping her legs around him, and even though anyone could walk outside and see them, Julie gave herself up to heaven.
Ty's tongue danced with hers, finding more sensitive spots that Julie hadn't known existed. She cupped his jaw again to give herself better access to his delicious mouth. And then her hands were ripping at his shirt and it was falling open.
"I'vegot the keys to a boat."
"Let's go."
Slowly, he released her from his arms, her soft contours pressing against his hard muscles. He reached for her hand and she could have sworn they were flying down the dock to the marina. Everything felt so surreal, so perfect and magical.
They boarded a huge yacht and his large hands circled her waist in her pink strapless party dress.
"God, you look good," he said as he picked her up and carried her down the short hallway to the stateroom. He kicked open the door and a huge king-size bed dared her to look away. But she wasn't going to back down from what she wanted. Not tonight. She kicked off her heels and let him lay her back on the bed, let him look at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Sweet Lord, his chest was a masterpiece. Her fingers ran across his bronzed skin, and when her mouth grew jealous she ran her tongue along his pecs, over his nipples, which hardened beneath her lips. He groaned and threaded his hands through her hair just as she brought her teeth down on him. She slid her hands down the back of his shirt, pushing it off his broad shoulders, and then he was kissing her eyelids and her chin and biting her earlobe.
In seconds his shirt and pants were on the floor, even though he never once stopped kissing her. Wearing only his boxers, his bare leg hot against hers, he
hooked his thumbs under the bodice of her strapless dress.
And then--could this really be happening to her?-- his mouth was on her nipple, hot and wet. Sweet Lord, how could she have lived for so long without feeling this?
She pressed her hips into his thighs, and wetness seeped through her panties, through her thin dress.
Somehow she wasn't embarrassed; being with Ty was the most natural thing in the world.
He slid her dress off, past her hips, and his hand moved to the concave lines of her stomach. He toyed with the elastic edge of her panties and her thighs spread in a clear invitation for him to take any--and every--thing he wanted.
His warm hand moved down, past her pubic bone. Slowly he ran one finger, then two, over her most private, secret spot. She'd touched herself before, but it had never felt like this. Never felt like her entire world was turning inside out, like blue was green, and yellow was red. He sucked her moan of ecstasy into his throat, sliding his fingers down farther, farther still, finally slipping one inside her.
His touch was a sensual invasion of every wall that Julie had ever built around herself, her body, her heart. She wanted him inside of her then, no more foreplay.
More than anything, she wanted him to love her as much as she had always loved him from afar.
"Please," she begged.
But instead of taking her right then and there, he moved his mouth along the same path as his hand, kissing her on her belly and the lacy edge of her panties.
"Please," she whispered again, wanting him to know that she couldn't stand it anymore. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and still she could barely keep a scream of erotic frustration from pouring up from her throat. At the final moment, when she'd given patience all that she had, he slid the lace away from her mound and covered her with his mouth.
She cried out then, a long, low sound. Julie had no defenses anymore. Not from the way his tongue circled her clitoris. Not from the way his finger moved in and out of her. She could go insane from the rush of pleasure taking her over, body and soul. She would have promised him anything just then; all he had to do was ask. But thankfully he wasn't talking, he was sucking and licking and kissing between her legs.
Her hips bucked up off the bed, and as she exploded against his teeth and tongue, she moaned, "Ty!" And just as she found herself wishing that his mouth was on hers, that she could taste him again, he was taking her lips in a kiss that said she was his. Forever.
He slipped a condom on and then the thick head of his penis pushed at her wetness, where his finger and tongue had been.
She wanted to touch him, wanted to feel if his shaft was as hard--as hot--as she thought it would be. Everything about Ty was made to drive her crazy.
"Please," she said again, "I want to touch you. I want to taste you like you tasted me."
He groaned and took her lips again, pushing his thighs between her legs.
"I need to be inside you. Now."
And she was ready for him, desperate to take him inside. With a groan that was half pain, half pleasure, Ty pressed the head of his penis against her.
"Are you sure you're going to fit?" she asked.
He just said, "Perfectly," as he pushed fully into her in the next breath. He stretched her wide and it hurt so much, but then, it didn't anymore.
Sex was wonderful.
Their hips moved together and even as he grew impossibly huger inside of her, the ecstasy that she'd felt only minutes before welled up again at the base of her belly. He plunged in then out, fast then slow, and with every stroke, with every kiss, she met him with a passion that was as big, as powerful.
He stilled above her, his muscles tight beneath her fingertips. He was going to explode inside of her, just as she had when his mouth was on her. It was all she needed to send her back up to the peak of ecstasy again.
Nothing in her life had ever been this good.
God, she'd been such an idiot. All she wanted was to forget the day she'd met Ty Calhoun. She wasn't a green girl anymore, not the kind of woman who could be sucked in by a hot jock's charisma and perfect physique ever again.
Julie never worked with sports organizations. She didn't trust professional athletes, so how could she get other people to trust them?
She'd simply refer the Outlaws to one of her competitors, who would be more than happy for the ongoing business. After all, athletes were always getting in trouble and their teams were always paying someone to "reform" them in front of the public.
And Julie would try not to mourn the money she was flushing down the drain.
Her stomach churned as she slid on her headset and said hello.
"Sean McGuire here, with the Outlaws. Our team needs to hire a great image consultant for Ty Calhoun, and we think you're it."
She swallowed her gasp and told him she didn't have the resources to take them on as a client, then referred him to another company.
"We'll double your fee. Triple it."
Triple? Sweet Lord! If she took this gig with the Outlaws her financial fears would be a distant memory.
As if he could sense her wavering, Sean said, "All I'm asking is that you come in for a meeting before you say no. We need you."
Had a Crazy switch been turned on in her head? Was she really going to turn down this huge fee, especially since this job could springboard into other big clients?
Yet even if she didn't have a personal history with Ty, how could anyone expect her to change him from a playboy into a solid, reliable man? It was too big a job for one person. And how embarrassing and unprofessional would it be if they found out she'd been one of his early groupies? Especially one who only lasted one night?
"Look," Sean said into the weighted silence, "Ty Calhoun needs you. Desperately. I'm begging you, here."
All the air went out of her lungs. Ty needed her? Well, he'd acted like he needed her once before, and she'd been so blind with lust and what she'd thought was love that she'd needed him too.
What a huge, enormous mistake that had been.
Nothing was ever going to make Ty change his ways. From everything she'd heard, he was just as selfish, just as screwed up, and just as much of a womanizing bastard as he'd been in high school. Oh, she understood that women wanted to save Ty, and his bad boy antics made him more attractive, more dangerous, more in need of saving than ever.
But she didn't have the slightest desire to reform a bad boy She liked her men intelligent, well groomed, and low-key.
Unfortunately, Sean took her silence as acquiescence, because he said, "We'll be by your office in twenty minutes," then hung up.
Julie blinked at the telephone for a long, confused moment, then ripped off her headset and threw it down onto her glass-topped desk.
"Amy," she called, "I need you to take a meeting for me." But when she poked her head into her friend's office, it was empty.
"Amy just left for a doctor's appointment," her new receptionist said with a helpful smile.
"Oh, right, thanks," Julie said, hating the way she was stumbling over her thoughts--something she never, ever did.
Pull yourself together. This meeting would be no different from any other difficult situation. She'd be cool, composed, and unflappable. No matter what Ty said or did, she'd refuse to be baited. She felt nothing but pity for the man he'd become. A boy could be excused for his actions, but a man had to take responsibility for his life. Based on media accounts of his wild partying and speeding tickets and evenings with strippers, Ty was as far from responsible as a person could be. No matter how good he looked when he walked in the door, pity would be her only emotion.
As she redid her makeup, made sure that her fishnets didn't have a run, and buffed her peep-toe, black patent leather heels, Julie reminded herself that anything she'd felt for him had died long ago.
And nothing could ever bring those pointless feelings back.
CHAPTER THREE
Ty followed Sean through a shiny red door into Julie's office, and didn't even stare
at the cute receptionist's nicely showcased ass. Not today. Today was all about Julie.
He looked into the glass-walled offices beyond, not surprised to see that Julie had done very well for herself. She'd always been poised to be successful, to take what she wanted.
And then he saw her, pushing open the door of her office, walking straight toward them. A surge of emotions shot through him--longing, hope, pain, lust--and he knew the only way he could deal was to shut them all down.
Heat shot straight to his groin. Even in her buttoned-up-to-the-neck sweater and knee-length skirt, Julie put every other woman he'd been with to shame. She was still the bar by which he measured the female sex, and everyone else came up short. Way short.
Her legs seemed to go all the way to her neck, and they were neither pencil thin nor overly muscular. She had rounded calves that he wanted to sink his teeth into, the sexiest kneecaps he'd ever seen, and her thighs would tempt a monk. Plus, that glorious ass of hers created the perfect waist-to-hips ratio. They were the perfect handful for grabbing onto when she was riding above--or below--him in bed.