Body Contact (Hands On #2) Read Free

laid him low. But it was her confidence in him, the blatant belief that he’d protect her, that made him feel important, as if he wasn’t a shell of his former self, the way the damn league made him feel. One minute he’d been the star quarterback, the next, he was on his way home to recover from his injury. Worthless. But she didn’t make him feel like a failure. His chest puffed up a bit. He kind of liked that she looked at him as her protector, a man she could count on. It shouldn’t thrill him as much as it did, but it did, and there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do about it.
    “Don’t worry, Danielle.” He dipped his head, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “I’m going to take really good care of you.”
    “I know.”
    She smiled at him, and his heart missed a beat. He sucked in a quick breath to get it pumping again. Putting his hand around her waist, he asked, “Ready?”
    “I think so.”
    He guided her to his motorcycle and got her settled behind him. After twenty minutes of having her cuddled up behind him, close enough for her scent to surround him and drive him crazy, they were pulling up in front of Grayson’s, a private members-only club where the affiliates were carefully screened. He showed his ID at the door and signed Danielle in. He kept an arm around her, wanting her to feel comfortable and safe with him…and maybe to make sure people knew she was his. Every few minutes she’d glance up at him and he’d give her a reassuring smile. He couldn’t believe the faith she had in him. It did something to him, made him want to find a way to remain in the role of her protector—lover—for a little longer than two weeks.
    They stepped through the doors into a dimly lit room. She snuggled in close and he put his mouth near her ear. “You okay?”
    Her hand went around him, and she held tight. “I am.”
    She darted a glance around, taking in the tables and the people seated around them, chatting over drinks. At the bar, people sat on stools, some watching the game on the TV, others in more intimate conversation.
    “How about a glass of wine? Just to help you relax.”
    She laughed. “Plying me with alcohol again?”
    He chuckled. “Now that I know how much of a lightweight you are, I’ll be cutting you off after one.” Then he cupped her shoulders, his voice serious. “I want you sober and fully aware of everything tonight, okay? I don’t want you doing something you might regret later. That’s not what this place is about.”
    “Okay.”
    With his hand on the small of her back, he led her to the bar. She slid onto a plush stool, and he took the seat next to her. Then, signaling the bartender for a beer and a wine, he glanced around. His hands fisted at his sides when he saw some guy eye-fucking Danielle, as if she was nothing but a piece of ass. No one looked at his girl like that. His girl? Jack put his hand on her leg, staking his claim as he glared back at the guy. This was a respectful establishment, and that douche bag needed to learn a thing or two about how to treat a lady. Jack would be happy to give him a private lesson—with his fist.
    Message received, the guy turned away, and Danielle, none the wiser, looked at him, curiosity backlighting her baby blues. “Do you come here often?”
    “Real original, Danielle. Even I could come up with a better pickup line than that.”
    She laughed and swatted him, but he grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “You’re going to have to work a little harder to get me into your bed,” he teased.
    The blue in her eyes deepened. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
    “It’ll happen when you’re ready.”
    “How will you know?”
    “Because you’ll be begging me for it.”
    She visually quaked, and Jack nodded to the bartender as he brought their drinks. He took a sip and turned back to Danielle. “In all seriousness, though, the answer to your question is no. I don’t come here often. I’ve tried