Page 3 of Virgin Pass

“Yup. His real name is Jerome, but his older brother Zeke always called him Bro, which is why he insists on it. The next time you go out to throw today, why not connect with him? He’s on the practice squad with you.”

Austin shrugs. “Why not? I’m here to do whatever it takes to help the team win.”

“Well, you can help the team win once you start throwing to someone who can catch over his right shoulder with a lot of wide open field to run in. That guy is Bro Silverton, I’m telling you.”

“Striker!” The coach’s voice booms, and we both jump.

“All right, Little Miss Football, I’ll keep it in mind,” Austin says. To my shock, he leans for a kiss, and though every fiber in my body wants him to brush those beautiful lips against mine, I know it’s a bad idea. It’s a terrible idea. It’s the worst idea in the world.

Then he speaks, and my pulse goes through the roof. “Though you really shouldn’t be talking to me, angel. Your dad might see.”

“I’m an agent,” I barely manage, my voice so breathless it’s barely a whisper. “I’m allowed to talk to you.”

“In that case, I’m allowed to do this.” Austin hums with pure masculine appreciation, not an inch from my face, the sound vibrating between us, before leaning in.

Our lips touch, and I gasp at the heat that explodes in my belly. Austin growls something I can’t quite understand, then he deepens the kiss, turning me to the wall and pushing his mouth harder against mine, his tongue slipping through my lips and dipping deep. My hands are suddenly knotting in his jersey, my sight dimming. In a flash, everything south of my ribcage has turned into a melting pool of white-hot need.

“Striker!” It’s a different voice, closer now, and Austin straightens, though his eyes continue to drill me to the wall.

“We’ll…talk…more later,” he says, the words low and tight. I edge back into the corridor as he turns away from me. I can hear someone call Austin’s name with relief and recognition as he jogs back into the sunshine, but I linger a minute more in the shadows, pressing my hands to my cheeks.

That…was probably a mistake, I decide. I’m a junior agent, barely getting started in my first job, and I should probably be focusing on trying to lock down some clients of my own.

But none of that so much matters at the moment. I’ve kissed Quarterback Austin Striker, the man I’ve been in love with since I was a kid following him around like a little lost puppy, and I’ve learned something else, too.

Coach’s daughter or no, off limits or not…

Austin wants me.

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