Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)(72)

Jack wrapped both arms around her. He rested one hand across her br**sts and the other on her belly. At the same time he began to lick and kiss the back of her neck.

Shivers rippled through her. Her ni**les tightened and he squeezed first one, then the other. She waited for the other hand to move lower. Instead, he raised his arm and flipped a switch. Seconds later the motor started and the tub jets began to spray hot water.

She laughed. “Seriously? You’re turning on the Jacuzzi?”

“Trust me,” he said and slipped his hand between her thighs.

He found her core right away. She was already swollen. When he rubbed her, she let her legs fall open and relaxed into the pleasure.

He’d already learned how she liked it. The speed, the pressure. He used that knowledge now to take her from interested to aroused in only a couple of minutes—aided by his magical stroking of her br**sts. But just when she thought he was going to turn her toward him and make things really fun, he instead shifted her closer to one of the jets.

She started to sit up. “Wait,” she said. “You can’t expect me to do that.”

“Why not? It’ll be fun.”

She looked at him, at the face of the man she loved, then nodded tentatively. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“It’s going to work great.”

He helped her slide forward, moving with her so she could lean against him and stay above water. She planted her feet on the edge of the tub and bent her legs so the jet blew directly on her swollen center. At the same time Jack put both his hands on her br**sts and rubbed them.

The bubbling water felt good, she thought, shifting to find the right position, but not as good as him. She liked the feel of his hands on her br**sts, she thought, pulsing her hips slightly. When he rubbed and squeezed, she began to breathe more quickly. She could feel herself getting close, but realized it wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s too weird,” she told him as she turned toward him.

“No problem.”

He lifted her onto the flat side of the tub. He knelt between her thighs and pressed his mouth directly against her aroused center.

Apparently the jets had done more than she’d thought because the second time he ran his tongue over her clitoris, she began to come.

The orgasm was unexpected and she gasped out her pleasure. Jack immediately plunged two fingers inside of her, which made her tremble. She had to hang on to him to keep from slipping back into the tub. She drew her legs apart wider and pressed into him as her release rippled through her over and over.

When she was finished, she opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her.

“So, about the jets,” he began.

She laughed. “Maybe they’re not so weird.”

She slipped back into the water. He pulled her close and gently touched her between her legs. She shuddered at the feel of him.

“Your turn,” she whispered and patted the edge of the tub.

He sat where she had. He was already hard and when she bent to take him in her mouth, he groaned.

She shifted to brace herself on the tub, anchoring her knees and her feet, then drew him into her mouth again. At that moment, Jack shifted her so that one of the jets was pointed directly at the apex of her thighs. The bubbling water caressed her exactly where she was most swollen.

“This way it’s good for both of us,” Jack told her.

And it was.

* * *

THE LAST THING Jack was looking for was another meeting, but here he was, back at Cal U Fool’s Gold for another go-round with Tad, the athletic director, on the subject of the university starting a football program. Normally he would have been looking for an excuse to cancel. He could claim a last-minute meeting with a client. But he didn’t—for two reasons. First, he was kind of excited about the thought of watching a team being built from the ground up. Second, these days he was nice and mellow most of the time. He knew the cause and was looking forward to having his way with her later that night.

He walked into the conference room three minutes before the start of the meeting and nodded at everyone. University president Newham was there, across from Tad. There was also a guy Jack didn’t recognize. He was tall enough and built, but if Jack had to guess, he would say the other man worked hard for a living. His muscles were more from labor than sports.

The man in question nodded at him, then reached across the table to shake hands.

“Zane Nicholson.”

“Jack McGarry.”

Zane sat down. “So you’re the football player. I’ve been hearing about you.”

“I can’t say the same. You’re alumni?”

Zane’s expression tightened. “No. I went to Texas A&M.”

“You play ball?”

“No. I worked to put myself through school.”

Jack had, too. His job had been on the field. But he knew what the other man meant. A lot of people assumed that an athletic scholarship was a free ride to education. What they didn’t understand was that there were pitfalls along the way. An injury could knock an athlete out of the program in an instant. Bad performance was nearly as quick. There was also training time, practices, appearances, the games themselves. All of which kept the student athlete from his or her classes.

Worse, the star athletes often passed classes they rarely attended, which meant at the end of four or five years of college, the student had a degree but little actual education. And the odds of going pro were incredibly small.