**************
As he climbed the stairs with a box
of books balanced on his shoulder, Bullhorn Brodsky shook his head slightly to
remove the sexy, come-hither, naked fantasy of Samantha Drake in his brain. His
blood pressure returned to normal when he dropped his burden on the bedroom
floor. The pretty, dark-haired young woman wearing snug jeans and a T-shirt sank
down on the new bed. As their gazes connected, his libido cranked up his
temperature.
“What’s next?” He wiped the sweat off
his forehead on the bottom of his T-shirt. When he lowered it, he noticed she
had been staring at his abs. A gentle flush stole into the apple of her cheeks.
He smiled inwardly, gratified that all the hours he spent in the gym had paid
off.
“I’m grubby, I need a shower,” she
said pushing to her feet to glance in the mirror.
The next image to take over his mind
was stepping into a steamy shower behind Samantha. He blinked a few times and
took a deep breath.
“You okay? Were the boxes too much?”
Her dark chocolate brown eyes held concern.
He laughed. “You kiddin’? That’s
nothin’. I take down guys ten times that weight in every game. Geez. What do
you think? I’m a pussy or something?”
She made a face.
“Sorry. I need to clean up my words.”
He sensed color in his cheeks. He’d never had a girlfriend like Samantha Drake.
She was smart, beautiful and nice –she did volunteer work at the New Life
Shelter for battered women and kids. But she wasn’t his girlfriend, only a
friend –with no benefits. He sighed.
“Devon talks like that, too. You’d
think football players never went to college.” She handed him a cold bottle of
water.
He downed the liquid. “What’s next?”
She turned around in the room and
sucked her lower lip between her teeth.
“Bed. Books, clothes. Rocking chair.
Hmm. How many boxes are still in the car?”
“Two.”
“Then that’s it. The place looks
pretty empty.” She perched on the bed, tucking her feet under her.
“You’ll have it furnished before you
know it. Come on. I’m gonna bring those boxes up, then take you out to dinner.”
“Thanks. Be right back.” Her
thousand-watt smile turned his innards to jelly.
He sat in the rocking chair while
Samantha washed the dirt off her luscious body –or what he assumed was luscious.
Sylvester “Bullhorn” Brodsky, known to his teammates as “Bull” had the hots for
Samantha Drake, and it was keeping him up nights. While he waited for her to
want him back, his imagination ran through a half dozen things he’d like to do
to her under the warming spray of hot water. She was a little slip of a thing
and he was huge. Six foot three inches tall and two hundred fifty pounds of
pure muscle, the offensive lineman could lift her up with one hand.
Samantha joined him in the living
room. She was wearing a red dress and red strappy sandals.
“Wow, you look awesome.” Is that corny?
“Thanks.”
They headed for the stairs.
“My own key. Just for me,” she sighed,
dangling the new key ring from her finger.
“Yep. Independent.”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a new place in town called
The Greenery. It’s vegetarian. Salads and shit. Wanna try it?”
“And shit? I don’t think I want to
eat that. But a salad sounds good.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
She laughed. “I’m proud of you --going someplace that doesn’t have fries.”
“I didn’t say that. Their fries are
organic. Sweet potato fries.” He grinned as he opened the car door for her.
*************
