Page 1 of Virgin Pass

Prologue

Austin

The red andwhite Warriors jersey hanging on my new locker—the one off to the side and around the corner, completely out of the way—says it all about this trade. I’ve been sidelined, my role on this team more of a mentor than a star QB leading my team to victory. I’m not here to play. I know it. The players know it. Hell, I’m pretty sure the Warrior fans know it, too.

I drop my duffle to the floor in front of the locker and check the time. I’ve got an hour to suit up and report to the practice squad. Me, Austin Fucking Striker, on a practice squad. I never thought I’d see the day. Then again, I never thought I’d still be playing the game into my thirties. Most men my age have already retired from the field, like being in my mid-thirties somehow makes me old. Playing against a bunch of guys ten years plus younger than me sure as hell makes me feel old.

Removing the football from my duffle, I palm it to keep my hands busy while I walk around the empty locker room. The trade doesn’t bother me, too much. I always knew I’d be back here someday. I’ve come to terms with the fact this’ll probably be my last year on the field. Does it suck? Hell yes, it sucks hard. No one wants to give up something they love. But at least I’m back in the southwest where I grew up, back where all the magic started.

“There he is,” Coach Connor announces as he walks in and makes a beeline right for me, his hand extended. “Striker, goddamn it’s good to see you.” He takes my hand and pulls me into a bear hug.

I slap his back, glad to see my old college coach after all these years. He’s the reason I survived school, honestly, finding me tutors to keep my grades up enough to play. His daughter—a tiny thing with a mouth full of braces and a mind full of sports stats, my sports stats—used to follow me around like a shadow, dropping random facts about the game, my game. Lori Connor was something else, all wide-eyed and adoring, my very first fan. My best one, too. No one since has come close to knowing me the way she knew me. My sweet little angel with her head in the clouds.

By now, of course, she’ll be all grown up. Even the idea makes my dick twitch, but that’ll remain my little secret. More than likely, little Lori Connor isn’t still handing out waters on the sidelines for her daddy’s players, so our paths won’t ever cross. Which would definitely be safest for little Lori Connor.

“You got everything you need?” Coach’s question pulls me back to the conversation.

Got your daughter’s number?“I’m good.”

“You’ll be the glue this team needs, son. I’m so glad you agreed to this trade.”

Did I have a choice? It was either agree to play what’s probably going to be my final season back here in New Mexico or spend another year wondering if this’ll be the year I’m cut and fade into obscurity. “Anything for you, Coach.”

“See you out there,” he says and salutes before walking out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Lori would be in her twenties now. Would she remember me? It doesn’t matter, I decide. If she saw me now, knew me now, she wouldn’t look at me all wide-eyed and adoring, not anymore. I’m a dirty old man now—at the ripe age of thirty-five my next birthday—one who never got over the idea of his first fan growing up and being more to him than just a fan.

I push the thought from my mind and quickly suit up to get on the field before the rest of the players. As I tuck the helmet under my arm, my mind wanders back to what Lori must look like. She was a tow-headed blonde back in the day with these giant blue eyes that saw more than she let on. But now?

It’s a good thing she’s probably in New York or Seattle or some other city far away from the likes of me. If she were anywhere near the southwest, there’s no way I’d be able to keep my dirty hands off her, not now that I’m back. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from pinning her to one of the blocking sleds and showing her how dirty the rest of me can be.

“Dad? Are you—” a woman rushes through a side door, then stops abruptly as her eyes round.

Shit.So much for New York or Seattle.

It’s her. Of course it’s her. And as she stares, I take in every detail of Lori Connor, my little angel who’s not so little anymore. I’ve imagined her like this, older, a full woman grown, those big, beautiful blue eyes glazed over with hunger as I drive my cock home inside her tight body. I can see my imagination hasn’t done her justice. She’s beyond beautiful, beyond anything I’ve ever seen.

Holy fuck. The need to possess her, to make her mine in every way possible, overwhelms me. I fight back the growl hovering in my throat and hold the football over my groin to hide the way my dick is now so fucking hard I can’t see straight, all the blood drained from every other part of my body. My hands are suddenly cold, my fingers stiff. There’s only one thing that’ll warm me up, and I’m looking right at her.

“Austin,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Is that little Lori Connor?” I say it a little too cheery, covering the fact I’m clenching my teeth so tight I’m sure I’m about to chip several.

“Not so little anymore.” She glances down at her appearance.

I do the same and scrape my gaze over her curves, nice full hips, high breasts, and every bit a woman. Dear Jesus I’m so hard I hurt. “I can see that.”

“Have you seen my dad?”

Her calling Coach her dad snaps me from my insta-lust. This isn’t some groupie willing to do anything for a little attention from a pro football player. This is a sweet, innocent angel.

My angel, I realize suddenly. Always was, always will be.

And, now that I’ve seen how she’s blossomed into such a stunning woman, I understand why fate brought me back here. It’s more than mentoring this young team, being the glue they need to hold them together.

It’s to finally claim my angel and make her mine in every sense of the word. But if I’m gonna do that…I’m gonna do it right. Like everything else in my life that matters, I’m gonna play to win it all.

“Sorry,” I say and jog past her, slowing to inhale her scent on my way. Dear god, she smells even better than she looks. “Not my day to watch him.”

“Austin?” she calls out and I slow before leaving the locker room, turning to face her. “I…I’m glad you’re back.”

I eye her one last time before popping open the doors with my ass. “I’m finally where I belong, angel.” I jog out before she can respond.

Hell yes, I decide. I’m exactly where I belong.

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