In the mood for a little football?
Coach Gunnar Davidson felt that he needed to see a therapist. It was simply a coincidence that the woman he wanted to ease all of his...uh...aches had a body made from original sin and an oblivious innocence that caused lust to churn in his gut, right? And he had absolutely no intention of showing her exactly what a man his size could do with all the fruitful bearings her physique offered him, right? Wrong...
“Say something, Eliza,” Gunnar growled in her ear.
What the hell could she say? This had to be a trick. No way was the very large, very sexy linebacker into her.
“You don’t want me.” Even though she tried to inject strength in her voice, it came out as a mere whisper. “This is a trick.”
It had to be right—this had to be a trick. Maybe he was pissed about...well, something. Or maybe someone had put him up to it.
That was it! Someone had put Coach Davidson up to this! Well, wasn’t that just the story of her life? How many times did she have to be the victim of stupid, asshole jocks who found it funny to torment the fat chick? Goddamn it, she was a grown-ass woman. No way was she going to be a victim of heartless jocks. If it cost her this job, so be it, but she was not going to stand here and be the butt of his sick joke.
“Get the hell off me.” With more power than she knew she had, she batted at his hands, stepping away from him. “Maybe you and your friends think this is funny, but I assure you I do not.”
Fueled by righteous indignation, Eliza was able to put some space between them. Lord, the man was a menace. Knowing what a dirty trick he was trying to pull should’ve killed all attraction she felt toward him, but it didn’t. That pissed her off even more.
“You think this is a joke?” How dumbfounded he sounded. Right, like she was going to fall for the innocent act.
“What, I’m supposed to believe you have a burning desire for...for...” No matter how mad she was, she just couldn’t say it out loud.
It wasn’t that she was ashamed of herself. She loved who she was; she was comfortable—no, happy—in her own skin. But society didn’t feel the same way she did about women her size. No amount of diets and exercise was going to make her a size six. Eliza had come to grips with that years ago. But it still hurt when men belittled her or thought she was fair game for sadistic jokes.
Ah, shit, the tears were building in her eyes. Turning away so he wouldn’t see her weakness, she took a deep breath. She had to be strong. No way was she letting any asshole see he had hurt her; she wouldn’t give anyone that kind of power over her.
“Does this feel like I am joking?” Eliza would have jumped if Gunnar Davidson hadn’t wrapped an incredibly strong arm around her, holding her completely captive. “You don’t feel how much I want you?”
Oh, sweet Lord, she did. The steely length of his erection rubbed along the crack of her behind in slow, purposeful movements. A knot formed in her throat as she attempted like hell to find the will to push away from him. But damn, his dick felt so good! How long had it been since she was well and truly satisfied? Generally her dating life consisted of overly serious professional types. They were usually very staid, very ordinary. How many nights had she longed for some rough, hot and dirty sex, just once?
“Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you?” he growled right in her ear. The rich tone made her stomach quiver. Lord, he was very large. She was willing to bet he could handle her riding as hard as he liked, something she had never really been able to do. “And we will do each and every thing I have fantasized about. Then we are going to make up some new ones.”
“You can’t just waltz into my office and... Oh!”
Eliza’s words were cut off when Gunnar used both his hands to cup her breasts. But he didn’t stand there and fondle her. Instead his fingers found her aching nipples, pinching and squeezing the sensitive nubbins just right.
“Ummm. Dr. E, I think I might have found one of your weak spots. Wanna bet I can find them all?”
Nope, she really didn’t. As it was now, she was drowning. All kinds of naughty visions danced in front of her closed eyes. This was all so— Hell, she had no idea what to call it.
“Why?” Keeping him talking was her only chance of breaking away. Just because she was leaning back against his deliciously huge frame, rubbing her ass against his cock like a lap dancer working for a huge tip didn’t mean she was just going to allow him to make a fool of her.
Only it certainly didn’t feel like he was pulling her leg. It very much felt like he wanted her.
“Oh, baby, how can any red-blooded man not want you?” Okay, her knees just got weak. “It’s not just this…” He tweaked her nipples again, making her whimper at the exquisite pain. “Though I do admit I love your reaction. You’re smart, sexy...and mine.”
There was no chance for Eliza to argue more. Gunnar had whipped her around, his mouth crashing down against hers in a blink of an eye. Not one to have ever been manhandled so expertly, she had to admit the action thrilled her right down to her increasingly wet panties. Here was a man who could bend her completely to his will, no matter how hard she fought against it.
And that was just what the doctor ordered.