Out Of Bounds: Risky Game Part 22

Shay didn't bother laughing at the reminder. She'd been a fool to give in to Brody and agree to stay a few more weeks, but she knew he needed her help keeping his blood sugar in check. And she knew she'd be a bigger fool to give up whatever time she had with him. When she headed home at the end of the season, he'd have his contract renewal and he could disclose his condition to the team without worrying about getting cut. Meanwhile, Mama would finally be safe from financial ruin, but Shay would be sleeping alone at night with only the memories of Brody's hard body to keep her warm.

The future was fact for Shay so she didn't bother commenting, instead giving Bridgett a shrug.

"Interesting," Bridgett said taking another sip of her drink.

"What's interesting?" Brody walked into the kitchen carrying a s...o...b..ring Owen like a football, the baby's legs kicking gleefully.

Bridgett opened her mouth to comment, before closing it quickly, her face suddenly paling. "Nothing," she said softly, standing and grabbing her gla.s.s. "Nothing at all." With a nod she wandered over toward the fireplace.

"What's up with her?" Brody's eyes followed his sister while he held Owen on the counter. The baby chortled as he tried to stand on his tiptoes.

"I have no idea. Maybe it's just the trial. Is she always like this during a big case?"

"Not usually." Brody didn't bother to hide the concern in his voice. "She's always p.r.i.c.kly, but lately she's been a bit more isolated than usual."

"Maybe you should talk to her. See what's going on." Shay reached over and tickled Owen's tummy.

"My sisters have already tried. She'll tell me when she's ready. She always does."

A whistle sounded from the area of the television.

"Wow, Shay! Can I meet your sister the next time we play Dallas?" C.J. Richardson, the coach's teenage son called from the other room. A picture of her sister, Teryn, smiling for the camera, filled the sixty-inch television screen. Since the initial blogs, Teryn had received a lot more camera time during Cowboys games and she was no doubt loving the extra notoriety.

Coach cuffed his son on the back of his head. "Stick to girls your own age."

"Jeez, Dad. I just want to meet her. Not marry her."

Owen tugged on a piece of Shay's hair and Brody stepped in closer, shielding her from the debate between father and son. "Both you and your sister aren't home for Thanksgiving. What will your mom do today?"

She pried the baby's fingers loose and wrapped his hand around her own finger, holding him so he could bounce on his toes. "Meemaw will complain about cooking a big dinner with no one to eat it, so Mama will just go to one of the hairdressers' homes. It's actually a pretty quiet day for her. She can relax before the busy holiday season. Teryn and I haven't been home for years, so she's kind of used to it."

"My mother would whine for weeks if one of her children wasn't at her dinner table. That's why they always come here, so I don't have to listen to it."

Shay laughed. "That's probably why Bridgett is so testy. She knows she's going to hear it from your mama. But Mama knows I'll be home in a few weeks. Teryn and I are always in Texas for Christmas."

Brody's mouth grew tight and his eyes clouded. "Christmas is still a month away."

"Only three weeks, actually." Owen reached his hand up for Shay and she lifted him into her arms. She watched as Brody absorbed the information, a brief panic flashed in his eyes. She stepped closer so as not to be overheard. "It's going to be fine, Brody. I'll just be a phone call away and I'll leave you with enough menus that you'll manage."

Something else flickered quickly over his face, but it was gone before Shay could interpret it. "Yeah, sure," was all he said. The moment stretched as the baby gripped both of their shirts, pulling them closer. Brody's eyes never left hers and it seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but they were interrupted by a brewing disagreement between Julianne and Shane, both of whom were trying to baste the turkey.

"I've been cooking turkey for ten years, Julianne, I think I know what I'm doing," the quarterback said.

"Hmmpf," Julianne wrinkled her nose at her best friend's husband. "Just because you're opening a restaurant doesn't make you the superior cook."

Brody grabbed Owen from Shay's arms. "No, but in his kitchen, he's the boss," he said handing Julianne the baby while winking at Devlin over the top of her head.

"Suck up," Julianne mumbled, snuggling her son to her chest. "I'm going to find my husband and tell him to beat you both up."

"By the way, Shay, thanks for pitching in and coming to Denver with the team this weekend," Hank said as he brought the appetizer plates to the kitchen. "We've gone through our share of tragedies in catering this season and I don't know what we would have done without you."

"Trust me, the guys will appreciate you being there helping Nate. He's the best there is at his job, but his personality can grate on you," Coach called from across the room. "You'll be a welcome relief."

Shay wasn't too thrilled about the cross-country trip this weekend. Not only was she going to miss a paying shift at Celtic Charm-the team was leaving early Sat.u.r.day morning to accommodate the time change-but she wouldn't have much downtime to prepare for her thesis review. Not to mention that Nate had returned to his narcissistic self once she and Brody had become involved for real. Emma insisted it was because the trainer had a secret crush on Shay, but she didn't think Nate's att.i.tude could be explained away by a high school scenario.

"I'm happy to do it," she replied as Brody winked at her.

Dinner was a casual buffet in deference to the new mother and baby, but mostly because there was football on television and all of the men in the room were enjoying watching the game from the sofa rather than the sidelines. With delicious food and lots of laughter, even Bridgett finally relaxed. Brody was more relaxed, too, after their conversation in the kitchen. Whatever he'd been about to say was forgotten as he spent the rest of the evening at Shay's side, his arm around her shoulders or his warm body making contact with hers every time he got the opportunity.

"Any luck on the search for that blogger?" Coach asked Hank during dessert.

"No luck at all. Whoever it is, they're well and truly hidden," Hank said.

"I'm just glad she's got her claws into a few other teams right now. It's such a disruption to the locker room, all that gossip."

"It's the price of fame," Bridgett said nonchalantly over the rim of her teacup. The adults in the room were quiet for a moment as they processed her statement. All of them had been kicked by the media before at some point in their lives.

"Hey!" C.J. cried, shattering the silent reflection. "Troy just took the last piece of pumpkin pie." The subject was dropped and everyone's attention turned back to the game as more pie was retrieved from the kitchen.

Brody's overattentiveness continued into the bedroom later that night. As they made love in his big bed, he took his time, allowing his hands and mouth to trace over every inch of her body, now feverish after his slow deliberate exploration.

"Brody," she gasped as he blew on her sensitive nipple.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, kissing his way between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I need . . ."

"What do you need?" His breath fanned over the other aroused nipple and she bucked against him.

That seemed to spur him along, but then his lips lingered at her collarbone, gently nibbling at the skin there.

"Oh, please, Brody."

Unable to take it any longer, she threaded her fingers in his hair and yanked his mouth up toward hers. He chuckled low in his belly and she felt it in her own. Grabbing her hands, he laced his fingers with hers and pinned her to the mattress with his hard body. He brought his forehead down to meet hers.

"Please what, Brody?" he teased. "What is it you want, Shannon? This?" He pumped his hips so his erection rubbed between her legs and she moaned.

"Is that all you need? All you want?" he demanded.

She couldn't make out his eyes in the shadowy room, but his voice was anxious, almost belligerent.

"You're sure you don't want anything more?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

Shay shook her head in exasperation, unsure what he was getting at but wishing whatever it was, he'd get there quickly.

He took her bottom lip between his and sucked gently. Her hips arched again making contact with the part of him she desperately wanted inside of her.

"You sure you don't want me?" His voice was strained as he touched the tip of his nose to hers.

Shay's breath hitched in her throat. How did he know? Over the past few weeks, she'd been holding back. Reserving a small part of her heart and her sanity for that day when he'd no longer need her. Want her. But typical of Brody, he not only knew, but he insisted on charming it out of her. Conquering her with the caress of his hands and his mouth so that he could then steal that last piece of her and take it for his own. Her body overwrought with desire, Shay was tired of holding out. It was no use. When this ended a few weeks from now, her heart would be in pieces anyway.

"Yes," she cried. "I want all of you, Brody. All of you!" She lifted her head up to kiss him more fully and he responded with a growl. His mouth ate at hers as he thrust deeply inside her, their hands still clasped on either side of her head. Brody was relentless, pushing her to release, and then, with a throaty moan, finding his own.

Brody stretched out his hip on a foam roller on the floor of his hotel room. A hit two weeks ago still left the joint stiff and the cold Denver air carrying the threat of snow didn't help any. Kickoff wasn't for another six hours-six thirty Mountain time. The team had already had breakfast and an early morning meeting and now the players had two hours of downtime. Had the weather not been so ominous, he might have sweet-talked Shannon into going for a walk to stretch out his hip.

Shannon likely had her nose buried deeply in her note cards by now anyway, so Brody settled for a session with his personal trainer, Erik, who was in Denver working with one of the Broncos this weekend. Going to Nate and the team training staff would only alert management to a potential injury, and Brody was playing tonight no matter what.

He got up to answer the knock at the door and was pleasantly surprised to find not Erik, but Shannon standing in the hallway. Wearing her puffy jacket, formfitting jeans, and her cowboy boots, she looked bright-eyed and fresh leaning against the doorjamb with her ever-present book bag over her shoulder. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks red; she'd obviously just come in from outdoors. He cursed himself for not going with his original plan.

"Hey there," she said softly.

Brody quickly scanned the hallway before yanking her inside and slamming the door.

"Hey yourself," he said before covering her mouth with his. Her hands were chilly as they slid beneath his T-shirt to roam over his bare skin, but he didn't object. He liked this new Shannon; the one he'd discovered in his bed Thanksgiving night. As her s.e.xual experience grew, so had her confidence, but the raw pa.s.sion was new. Whatever had been tethering Shannon was gone and Brody craved this version of her even more than he wanted to admit to himself. He unzipped her jacket eager to get his own hands on her skin.

"Where's Jamal?" she breathed, bringing Brody back from his baser self. He'd forgotten about his roommate and Erik who would be here any minute.

"s.h.i.t." He put a few inches between them. "He's with the chaplain at the service. But my trainer is on his way here."

She pulled out of his arms. "Your personal trainer? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. My hip hurts and Erik is going to stretch me out, that's all."

Shannon walked over to the bed and Little Brody jumped with joy.

"Your trainer flew to Denver just for that?" She pulled off her jacket. "You couldn't get Nate to do that for you? From what I hear, he's the best at injury rehab."

"Yeah, but Nate talks too much and I don't want the coaching staff to know."

Shannon rolled her eyes as he stalked toward her. "You and your ego."

Ignoring her dig, he wrapped his hands around her narrow waist. "And Erik was already here in Denver. He trains one of the Broncos." A piece of her long hair was stuck to her lips and Brody reached a hand up to wipe it away, caressing her cheek in the process.

"Isn't that a conflict of interest?" She leaned into his hand, giving his lips access to her smooth neck.

"No. He works for the athletes, not the teams. His only allegiance is to the big check we each pay him every month. Erik has only ten clients, but he probably banks half a million a year." Brody kissed the cool skin beneath her ear.

"And he trains clients for many different teams?" Her hands lay flat on his pecs.

"Yeah. Here in Denver, Detroit, Miami, Minnesota. Lots of places." Brody didn't want to talk about Erik anymore. He wanted to call the guy and tell him not to bother, his hip was fine. Or it would be once he got Shannon naked beneath him.

She pushed him away. "h.e.l.l's bells! I've been looking at this all wrong." Rummaging through her book bag, she pulled out a spreadsheet he recognized. "All this time, I've been looking for people with access to each team, but not one person with access to a lot of teams. Don't you see, Brody? Instead of there being a bunch of snitches, there very well could be just one snitch."

Brody scrubbed his hands down his face. "Not this again. Shannon, forget about the snitch. You don't have to prove anything to me, okay." He took the spreadsheet from her hands and tossed it on the bed. "I'm more interested in why you're wearing a freaking Broncos T-shirt."

She looked genuinely fl.u.s.tered as she ran a hand along the horse on her chest. "It was all they had at the hotel gift shop. Brody, forget about my T-shirt and listen-"

"No! I don't want to hear about your theories on the d.a.m.n snitch. h.e.l.l, I can't listen to a word you say when you're wearing the other team's colors." His frustration grew as she reached for her jacket.

"For pity's sake, Brody, you are such a baby sometimes." She shoved her arms into her jacket. "There's a blizzard coming and Mr. Osbourne said we'd likely be stuck here for the night. I didn't pack for more than overnight and this was the only thing in my size. Grow up and deal with it." She yanked the zipper up to her throat before turning on her heel and heading for the door.

Brody swore, reaching out and snaring her by the belt loop of her jeans, pulling her back up against him. "I'm sorry," he whispered against the back of her head as he wrapped his arms around her. "But it's called being compet.i.tive, not a baby. I don't like it when my best girl is wearing the other guy's logo."

She blew out a breath. "This isn't high school, Brody. And besides, maybe I'm wearing something else with the Blaze logo."

Little Brody sprang back to life, snug up against her round a.s.s. He groaned as he pictured her parading around in that Blaze thong in his great room that night. "Let me see." When he reached his fingers into the waistband of her jeans she wriggled against him and he nearly died on the spot.

"Shannon, come in the bathroom. We'll-"

His cell phone beeped on the nightstand and Brody let out a string of obscenities. Shannon pulled out of his embrace.

"That'll be your trainer," she said as she hefted her book bag onto her shoulder.

"I'll tell him I'm fine. Stay." Brody desperately wanted a look at her in those panties-and out of them.

"No, Brody. I have to go study. And you need to save your energy. It's a night game, with bad weather at a mile-high alt.i.tude. Even with normal blood sugar that's not easy on a body. Make sure you eat at the intervals on your schedule. I'll see you before the game."

She made her way out the door without so much as a kiss good-bye.

The dire predictions about the weather turned out to be true. The snow started falling about four in the afternoon and by halftime, there was nearly a half foot of white powder on the ground with what seemed like another half foot swirling in the air. The Broncos were up by seven, and with the weather conditions deteriorating and DeShawn's hamstring cramping in the cold, the Blaze's chances were looking as bleak as the weather.

Making matters worse, Brody's head was a little fuzzy; a result of his blood sugar taking a nosedive in the first half. But Shannon was prepared, meeting him in one of the deserted training rooms with a bottle of orange juice.

"That should do the trick." She glanced at the reading on his OneTouch. "You're not that low, but you might want to take another bottle to the sidelines with you just in case you start to feel woozy."

Brody only had a minute before he'd be missed in the locker room. He nuzzled her cool cheek. "I'm only woozy when I think about you wearing that thong."

Laughing, she pulled out of his embrace. "You have a one-track mind, Brody. Try to get it back into the game, will you?"

"When I catch the winning touchdown, I'm coming to your room tonight to celebrate."

"I wouldn't try it. Nate's probably got my door b.o.o.by-trapped." She handed him his OneTouch just as Nate stormed the room.

Brody slid the tester behind his back, as the three stood in charged silence.

"I thought you had more professionalism, Shannon," the trainer said in disgust.

Brody stepped between Shannon and her boss. "Hey, lay off, Nate. I asked her down here to do me a favor."

Nate held up a hand. "I don't want to hear what kind of favor she was doing for you. I need the room. Now."

The insinuation that something s.e.xual was going on in the training room made Brody bristle. This guy controlled Shannon's future and he didn't need him thinking badly of her. It was all he could do to keep from ripping the trainer's head off, but he had the blood sugar monitor in his hand and he didn't dare let Nate see it. Still, he used his body to intimidate the pipsqueak.

"Watch what you say about her," Brody warned as he slid out the door, Shannon close behind him. As they entered the hallway, she made a fast break for the elevator to the visitor's skybox. "Hey!" he called after her. But she marched on, her boots clicking on the concrete floor and her head bowed. Brody swore as he entered the locker room, worried now about more than just how his team was going to pull off a win in the deteriorating weather.