TACKLE (Boston Terriers Book 4)



“Come on, guys.” Owen’s frustration is evident as a deep scowl sinks between his dark brows. He’s not pleased our team scored the first touchdown. It doesn’t matter that this is a friendly girls against the guys game of beach football. He’s out for blood.

The guys’ team huddles together, voices muffled to keep us from hearing their strategy. We circle up in our own group to plan our defense.

When no one says anything I start in, “We need to shut them down on this drive. Make them go three and out. Rip their hearts from their chests. Show them we’re not pushovers.” Owen’s not the only one who’s taking this game seriously.

Amelia cracks each knuckle on her right hand before repeating the process on the left. The loud pops have me grimacing. She flicks a glance over at the guys and leans forward to whisper, “I’m confident Owen’s going to throw the ball. They want to come out hard and show us who our daddies are.” Snorts and laughter ring out from our bunch. “If he throws, it’ll be to Trevor. Those two play together on the Terriers. He’s most comfortable with him.” Amelia aims her brown gaze my way. “You can shut that down, right?”

I smile confidently. “Hell, yes. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

Because we’re operating with no kickers they line up on our makeshift field where the twenty yard line would fall. Shifting into place across from them, we wait for Owen’s count and watch for the snap. My heart races with adrenaline as the seconds tick by.

Once the ball’s in motion it’s similar to a switch being flipped and we move at an accelerated pace. Everything happens faster than one can imagine and we need to stay focused for the duration of the play.

Trevor skirts past me, making a break down the sideline. I bolt after him, but this fucker is fast. The dry sand kicks up as he runs, pelting me. Forcing myself to ignore my stinging, grit filled eyes, I squint and push on. I can’t let this entitled asshole get the best of me.

Digging deep in the pit of my stomach, I find the last reserves of energy. Bursting forward, my feet churning up more sand behind me, I notice Trevor’s sweat glistening back getting closer with each stride. His arms outstretched, the ball sails right into his hands like a missile locked on its target. Fuck.

Gritting my teeth, I power on and launch myself forward, tackling him. I don’t think Trevor expected me to catch up, and as a result I’m able to knock him off his feet.

Hurtling toward the ground, he fumbles the ball to the side, twisting his upper body as he bobbles the ball from one large hand to the other. The pigskin eludes his grasp, falling to the sand.

I never spared a thought about how painful my landing would be until now, as I’m about to slam down face first. Trevor’s muscular arms catch me around the waist just before we crash to the ground. A cloud of sand erupts all around us like a desert storm as his back takes the brunt of our impact. He doesn’t make a sound as he absorbs all my weight, cushioning and protecting me from injury.

Silence and a haze of dust enshroud us in our own bubble. “Are you okay?” he questions in a deep rasp, his arms holding me tight. His lips press against the shell of my ear, firing off sparks from my head to my sandy, bare toes. Dragging in a deep breath, I notice the scent of his golden, sunbaked skin combined with sunscreen and a hint of whatever masculine soap he uses. Altogether, the smell is intoxicating. And so is the hard body beneath me. His heart thuds against my chest and I wonder if he knows mine’s racing just as fast. Can he feel the press of my taut nipples through my bikini top?

Nuzzling my nose against his neck, I savor the scent of him once more. He groans, adjusting his position, allowing me to feel his steely length pressing against my slit. Oh fuck me. This isn’t good. This is the same guy who drives me nutty on an almost daily basis. The one who I can’t stand because he’s lived a life of privilege. He’s never known what it’s like struggling to keep food on the table, and he never will.

Immediately I scramble to my feet and scuttle backward away from Trevor. He opens his mouth to say something and I whirl around to face our friends. My cheeks are on fire from a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Can everyone tell?

I jog over to the cooler and pop the lid open with a sharp snap. Bending down, hands on my knees, I use the top as a shield from prying eyes while I suck air in raggedly. What’s wrong with me? Why is Trevor Lincoln affecting me so much? Sure, he’s attractive, but I’ve never wondered what it would be like to kiss his masculine lips. Until now.

Grabbing a handful of ice, I rub it over my cheeks and neck before dropping the melted bits to the ground. Plucking a bottle of water from the assortment of drinks, I straighten up and run the cool plastic over my forehead. Cracking the cap, I guzzle down the entire contents without pause. If only this was alcohol.

“Grace, that was awesome.” Amelia is giddy as she approaches.

“Hell of a play, Grace,” Zeke calls out. I smile shyly, pressing my lips together.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Are you okay?” Amelia leans in. No. I’m not. My world just got rocked by Trevor and not in a good way.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” I shrug playing off my strange behavior.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” She looks concerned.

“No. I got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” I can’t meet her gaze as I utter the lie. “Are we going to play some more or what?” I put an end to the conversation.

“Sure. Let’s show these boys what we’re made of.”

Bending over, I flip the lid on the cooler closed and glance in Trevor’s direction. Our eyes lock in a paralyzing stare down I can’t look away from. He smirks as if to say you’ll be mine soon. Narrowing my eyes, I glare back sending my own message… not in this lifetime.