by Desiree Holt
Game On Book Three
No Rules. No Limits.
Party girl Tyler Gillette has just one rule: no football players. As the daughter of the owner of the San Antonio Hawks, she grew up in the shadow of the sport and her father’s enormous wealth. She was even named Tyler because he wanted a boy. Life couldn’t have drawn up a better play for turning her into a wild child—until that same life is threatened by someone from the past . . .
Former Hawks running back Rafe Ortiz has a few rules of his own. First, no weaknesses. Second, no babysitting spoiled football princesses. But his new career as a bodyguard means he’s responsible for protecting the beautiful Tyler Gillette from her mysterious stalker. But keeping his hands off her might be harder than keeping her safe . . .
Genre: Contemporary RomancePurchase link(s): Amazon BAM iTunes Kobo B&N
Content/Theme(s): Bodyguard, Running back, Sports, Football
Release Date: April 12, 2016
Publisher: Kensington/Lyrical Shine
Excerpt & More
“You can come out now.”
Tyler opened the door wider. When he got a good look at her, he swallowed back a bitter taste. Everything was a mess—hair, makeup, dress. How in hell did she do this to herself? And why?
He reached for her hand and tugged her out into the hallway. Despite the fact she had a rep for being a gigantic pain in the ass, despite the present circumstances, the moment their hands connected electricity arced between them. There it was, that invisible crackle that had never waned and still sizzled his nerve endings. More like his brain.
No. She was off-limits and a disaster to boot. He had to keep telling himself that. Keep dragging his eyes away from the swell of her breasts visible over the cut of her dress, away from the sweet curve of her ass so lovingly outlined by the fabric. Even with her tawny hair mussed and tumbled around her face and her makeup streaked, there was something so—
So what, asshole? She asked you here to get her out of trouble, not to act out your fantasies.
He could do this. He was famous for his incredible control in all situations. He just needed to keep it in place for this one. Holding tightly to her hand, he towed her through the crowd of onlookers, concentrating on getting out of danger rather than getting into her pants.
“Come on. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Rafe was tense, alert, prepared for anything as they headed toward the exit. Situations like this could go sideways in a minute. However, apparently not looking for the same treatment he’d given Dewey, people moved out of their way to let them go. Still, he held his breath as he guided Tyler through the tiny side parking lot and across the street to his car. He made sure she was belted in before he cranked the engine and pulled out into the street.
They drove in silence for a long time, tension humming in the car like low-level electricity. Not touching her would be a real test of his self-discipline. He wanted to ask her what the hell she’d been doing in a place like Tequila Sunrise, but he really didn’t have to. He’d heard all the rumors, read all the stories. He knew this was one of many dives where she hung out. It puzzled him why a woman who had absolutely everything she could ask for lowered herself like this, but it was none of his business and he didn’t want it to be. He didn’t want to know anything, just to deliver her to her doorstep and get the hell away from her.
He shot a quick glance at her huddled in the seat. At last she spoke up, in a very small, tired voice, a trace of fear still clinging to it. “Thank you. I’m sorry I had to bother you.”
“I’m sorry you did, too. You should know better than to put yourself in that kind of situation. What the hell were you thinking, anyway?”
“Nothing,” she snapped, obviously irritated by his response. “Thinking can get you into trouble.”
“And exactly what do you suppose tonight was?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her glance over at him. “So I guess the price of my rescue is a lecture?”
“No lecture. Just a word of warning.” He glanced over at her to see if she was paying attention. Only the tightly curled hands fisted in her lap gave her away. “You live a very destructive lifestyle, Tyler. One of these days you’ll get yourself in a situation that no one will be able to get you out of.”
“Then everyone’s problems will be over, right?” she snapped. “Yours, mine, and especially the holy king Kurt Gillette.”
He had no idea what was going on between Tyler and her father nor did he want to find out. Everyone on the team speculated, but if anyone had any answers, they were keeping quiet about them. It was none of his business, and he intended to keep it that way, for his own sanity.
As they rode through the silent streets he noticed that she kept tugging on the hem of her dress, seemingly uncomfortable in her outfit. If she was so uncomfortable in it why did she wear it? Why dress like that? Did she really want to attract men like Dewey? What was really going on with her, beneath the image she showed the world?
Silence descended and filled the car until at last he pulled into the driveway of her town house. Before she could move, he was out of the car, around the other side and had her door open. He extended a hand to help her out and guided her to the front door with a hand at the small of her back.
On the little porch, she turned to him. “Thank you again for answering my call and coming to pick me up, Rafe. I know I had no right to ask you, but you can’t imagine how much I appreciate it.”
“Next time pick your entertainment in a safer place,” he cautioned. He studied her face. “Just out of curiosity, why did you call me, of all people? We can barely stand each other.”
Hurt flashed so quickly in her eyes he wasn’t even sure he had seen it.
“Maybe you’re the only one I know who could have gotten me out of there.” She flicked her fingers against his chest. “Don’t worry. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Fine. Good night, Tyler. Stay out of trouble if you can.”
Before he could turn away, she launched herself at him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck as she plastered her body to his. He reacted automatically, holding her against him, inhaling the tantalizing scent of her perfume. She was warm and pliant and his body reacted before his mind caught up. Before he realized it she had him in a lip-lock, her tongue halfway down his throat. It took him a moment to recover himself, but when he did, when he realized what he was doing, he lifted her gently but forcefully away from him.
“You don’t want to do that, Tyler. You’re drunk and tomorrow you’ll regret it and be embarrassed.”
She looked up at him, something like pain glittering in her eyes. “And what if I don’t regret it? What if I’m serious?” Her lips curved in a sloppy semblance of a come-hither smile. “I could give you a very good thank-you, Rafe Ortiz. Very good. It’s what I do best.”
He sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight. “Go inside, Tyler. Go to sleep. You’ll feel differently in the morning.”
He took her keys from her hand, unlocked her door, and eased her inside. Dropping the keys on a little table in the foyer, he gave her one last searching look before he closed the door and headed back to his car. He didn’t fire the engine right away. Instead, he sat back in his seat, eyes closed. He could still feel the softness of her round breasts pressed to his chest, the hard tips of her nipples poking into him. He was sure she hadn’t been able to miss his swollen dick imprinting itself on her mound. That damned dress was just too thin.
He ran his fingers over his lips where the taste of her still lingered, her own sweetness mingled with the flavor of whatever she had been drinking. The combination should have been a turnoff, but instead it gave his hormones a mega jump-start. And her tongue. God, when she’d thrust it into his mouth all he’d wanted was to suck hard on it and wrap his own around it. He silently cursed the unwanted boner pushing at his fly.
Tyler Gillette was a hot mess, a disaster waiting to happen. He wondered how a man like Kurt Gillette had let his daughter get so out of control and why he didn’t figure a way to rein her in. Yeah, that “trouble” tattoo seemed like a good idea.
He was allergic to women like her, especially when the woman was Kurt Gillette’s daughter. The man would eviscerate him if he stepped out of line with her. That alone was enough to throw cold water on his feelings.
He was so preoccupied with his body and Tyler’s effect on it that he barely noticed the dark sedan that followed him through the quiet residential streets and out to the interstate.
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Be on the lookout for Desiree Holt's future release(s): All Tied Up in Sizzling Florida Heat coming April 2016 and Fourth Down coming October 2016
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