He stood at the entryway, watching her. “Okay.”

He could have pressed it with her, could have poured her a drink and they could have gone outside. Maybe he could have drawn out of her what she was so pensive about.

But he didn’t want to push, and they had time. So he’d let it go.

But he sure as hell wanted to know what was on her mind.

NINE

HAVEN WENT UPSTAIRS AND CLOSED HER DOOR, THEN got ready for bed.

Though she didn’t know why. She was restless and not at all tired, still keyed up after the party—after the conversation she’d had with Alicia and Liz about Trevor.

She sat in bed and turned on the television, then immediately turned it back off.

She wandered to the window, staring out over the sky. Her gaze was drawn to the pool area. She could take a swim. The pool was heated. There was a hot tub down there, too. Maybe she’d pour a glass of wine and sit in the hot tub. That would relax her a little and then she might be able to sleep.

But then she caught sight of Trevor, beer in hand, coming outside to take a seat on one of the chaises. He sat away from the deck, near the pool house storage area. She could barely see him, so she shifted to the far window to get a better view.

She should mind her own damn business and quit peeping out the window like a damn stalker. He probably just wanted some alone time to think.

But for some reason, she couldn’t walk away from the window. She could go down there and have a drink with him, but being near him was disconcerting, and her thoughts about him were confusing enough at the moment. It was best to just—

Just what? Hang out here and observe from the window?

She was a moron. A moron who wasn’t moving away from the window.

For the longest time, he didn’t move at all. He’d set his beer down on the table next to him.

Maybe he was sleeping. And she shouldn’t be watching him.

She started to turn away, except right then he moved his hand between his legs. Frozen in place, she couldn’t seem to move when he grabbed what had to be his cock. Even though he touched himself over his shorts, her body instantly tightened. Her ni**les beaded against her thin tank top and she reached up to cup her breast, using her fingers to strum across her nipples.

When Trevor slid his hand inside his shorts, her breathing quickened.

Was he really going to do that outside? Where anyone could see him? Where she could see him? Though she supposed no one else could watch. He was secluded, the chaise in the shadows against the wall of the deck. The only one watching was her, and nothing could tear her away from the glorious sight of his hand moving inside his shorts.

She pulled her tank top down, exposing her breasts, rubbing over her ni**les with abandon, wishing she could feel Trevor’s large, rough hands on her skin. Her pu**y quivered, and she slid her hands over her sex, massaging the ache, feeling the wetness that had seeped through.

She needed sex. It had been too long, and the sight of a hot, supermasculine man like Trevor getting himself off turned her on in the worst way. Or maybe the best way, because she quivered everywhere.

She tucked her hand inside her panties, reveling in the dampness of her sex. She felt swollen, achy, and so ready for a mind-blowing orgasm that she hovered on the brink of marching downstairs and climbing on top of Trevor’s cock, demanding he be the one to give it to her.

But that would be reckless, and if there was one thing Haven wasn’t, it was reckless. Which was too bad, because Trevor had pulled his shorts down, taking out what looked to be one magnificent cock. If she were brave enough—which she wasn’t—she’d sneak downstairs and spy on him through the back door, where she could get a better look. As it was, she’d have to make do from up here, where the light from the moon gave her only glimpses of the way he masterfully stroked his c**k with rhythmic up-and-down motions, causing her to rub her pu**y back and forth, tuck two fingers inside and use the heel of her hand against her cl*tuntil she was so ready to burst she had to pull back.

She’d come when he came. And she’d try not to scream when she did, because she could already feel her vaginal wall tightening around her fingers.

When his strokes turned faster, so did hers. And when he tilted his head back, she could swear he was looking right up at her room. She almost ducked back into the shadows, but she was too far gone, and by now she didn’t care. Let him see. Let him come up here and finish the job by plunging his c**k inside her.

But then she noticed his eyes were closed, his h*ps pumping up as his hand worked his c**k in a beautiful, twisting motion at the same time her fingers dove into her pussy.

“Take me there, Trevor,” she whispered, perspiring as she feverishly worked her cl*tand pussy. “Make me come—hard.”

He lifted his shirt—oh, God, those abs were a work of art. He directed his c**k toward his lower belly, and white ropes of come spurted across his stomach as he jerked his h*ps forward.

“Ohhh, yes,” she whispered, trembling as she released while watching Trevor’s orgasm. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, and she came hard while imagining his h*ps pumping hard into her while both of them cl**axed together.

Spent, her legs still shaking, she lay her head against the cool windowpane. Trevor lay still for a few minutes, then grabbed a nearby towel, wiped his abs, and pulled up his shorts, then finished off his beer and got up. He grabbed the towel and his beer and disappeared into the house.

Taking a deep breath, Haven went into the bathroom to clean up, then climbed into bed.

She had planned on doing some work, but she lay in the dark staring up at the ceiling, her mind replaying visuals of Trevor’s cock, of his rock-hard abs, and wishing she’d had the courage to go out there and interrupt him.

She knew he would have been receptive. He didn’t strike her as the shy type at all. Whereas she didn’t have a ballsy bone in her body. Which was why she’d been thinking about sex with Trevor all night, yet hadn’t done anything about it.

Someday, maybe, she’d change that. For now, she lay in her bed, strangely unsatisfied despite that amazing orgasm.

And she still felt as alone as ever.

TEN

TREVOR HAD COFFEE OUT IN THE SUNROOM. HE’D told Hammond to hold breakfast until after Haven got up, which she did about an hour after he did. With cup in hand, she joined him.

“Morning,” she said, taking a seat on one of the chairs as far away from him as she possibly could.

“Mornin’. Sleep good?”

“Yes. Just . . . fine.” She sipped her coffee and looked out the windows.

She looked pretty this morning in her capri pants and button-down long-sleeved shirt.

“So what’s on the interview agenda today?”

“Mmm, I don’t know for sure yet. I made some notes, but I need a full cup of coffee in me before I can think coherently.”

“Gotcha.” He decided to stay quiet until she decided to talk to him. He got up and told Hammond to go ahead and start breakfast, visiting with his friend about a couple of the baseball games that had been played the day before. By the time he came back into the sunroom, Haven was pouring another cup of coffee. He came up beside her, touching the small of her back as he eased around her for the sugar.

“Hammond’s making breakfast.”

She shifted out of the way in a hurry. “Great. Thanks.” Trevor felt Haven’s body stiffen as he laid his hand on her. He didn’t know what to make of that. Did he make her uncomfortable? Or was it something else?

He’d thought about her last night when he’d been sitting in the chaise drinking his beer. He hadn’t meant to, but visions of her had popped into his head, and suddenly his dick had gotten hard. Since he’d been alone out there, and it had been a while since he’d gotten off, he’d started rubbing his dick through his pants, thinking about Haven’s soft body, the sweet way she smelled, and the way she looked at him, especially last night.

A man knew deliberate sexual intent in a look, and Haven had it when she looked at him. He’d wanted to explore it with her, but she’d put a quick halt to any conversation when they’d gotten back home last night.

All he’d wanted to do was go knock on her door and pull her against him, put his mouth on hers and taste her. It hadn’t taken much for him to take out his c**k and jack off thinking about getting her na**d, putting his mouth on her ni**les and sucking them until she was writhing and begging him to f**k her.

His c**k twitched and he had to refocus his attention on the here and now. It wouldn’t do to get a hard-on in front of her. She was skittish enough around him as it was. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“So today we’re going to start with the basics,” she said, pulling him out of his fantasies about her. “We’ll start with high school sports and work our way up.”

“Sure. We can do about an hour after breakfast, then I’d like to take a break to work out, if that’s okay.”

“That works fine for me.”

“You can make use of the workout facility yourself, if you’d like. I can show you all my equipment.”

Her gaze shot up from where she’d been examining her coffee cup. “Uh . . . maybe.”

“Come on. You can’t just sit around here all the time. Your muscles will scream for a workout. Besides, I hate working out alone.”

She shot him a look. “And yet there’s a gym in your house instead of you going to the gym.”

“Sometimes that’s by necessity rather than choice. Work out with me today.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with you. You’re a lot more in shape than I am.”

“I don’t care if you just walk the treadmill. It’ll be nice to have your company.”

She looked like she was making the painful decision to have root canal surgery, but finally she nodded. “I do need to get some exercise. I’ll work out with you.”

Geez, was it that awful to be in the same room with him? He didn’t know what was up with Haven today. They had breakfast, then Haven grabbed her laptop and they settled in the office.

“Let’s talk about high school. Did you play multiple sports then as well?” she asked.

“Yeah. By then I’d settled into football and baseball. The coaches wanted me to choose one or the other, so I’d be looked at more seriously by the college scouts.”

“And you, of course, declined.”

“Yes. I was playing well for both teams. Why would I want to quit either?”

She shook her head. “You were always stubborn.”

“I prefer to think of it as determined. I had goals.”

“Really. Tell me.”

“I knew from early on that I wanted to play professional sports. Back in high school, I hadn’t yet decided which one, because I loved playing both football and baseball.”

“Yet you went to Oklahoma on a football scholarship.”

“I did, but I played baseball in college, too.”

“So you’ve been doing this juggling thing a long time.”

“Seems like my whole life sometimes.”

She typed notes into her computer. “And you got drafted by Tampa for football and Detroit for baseball, all in the same year.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “That was a really good year.”

“It didn’t scare you, or make you feel any pressure to be drafted by both a professional football and baseball team?”

“No. It was like a dream come true.”

“So, you’d say you thrive on pressure?”

He liked the way she altered his words. “You could say that.”

She lifted her gaze from the laptop. “Can I say that?”

“Sure.”

“How was it in high school?”

“In what way?”

“With your friends—your athletic peers. Any jealousy?”

He laughed. “Nah. I had good friends. We all worked hard, and we were after the same thing—winning. There was nothing to be jealous about.”

She tapped the laptop. “I did a little research on your high school career. It says here you had some run-ins with a guy named Jerome Kayman.”

“That was more of a misunderstanding. And over a girl. It had nothing to do with sports.”

She arched a brow. “Fighting over the same girl?”

“Uh, no. It was more like Heather Whitfield pitting Jerome and me against each other. Neither one of us knew we were both dating her.”

“Oh. Oops.”

“Yeah. Heather was a hell of a flirt. She was head cheerleader, very competitive. She told Jerome she liked him, and they started going out. They dated for a few weeks, though she didn’t tell anyone she was going out with him. This was all around the time of homecoming, our senior year. Heather really wanted to be homecoming queen, and Jerome was a popular guy—the quarterback of the football team. It looked like Jerome had a good shot of being king of the court.”

“Which upped her chances if she was his girlfriend,” Haven said.

“Exactly. Except then I caught a bunch of passes, got written up in the papers, and suddenly my popularity soared.”

“So she hedged her bet by pulling you into her web as well.”

“Yup. I’m not sure what she was thinking. Jerome and I were friends. And it wasn’t like she could go to the homecoming dance with both of us.”

Nothing Haven hadn’t seen before, especially in high school. “She was thinking she could string both of you along until right before homecoming, and then as soon as she figured out which of you was the most popular, she’d dump the other.”

“That’s exactly what she tried to do. Except Jerome went to her house one Saturday night and found out from Heather’s mom that she was out with me.”