The Way We Touch: or Wrangling the Wide Receiver (The Bradford Boys)

“We were so excited when we heard you’d be teaching this year.” Mia’s mom twists her paper schedule in her hands as if she’s meeting a celebrity. “She watches your videos on the YouTube all the time. It’s her dream to go to college for dance, but we can’t afford extra lessons.”

I was so nervous getting ready for tonight. I don’t have a teaching certificate. I’m only here because the PTA is paying my salary, and I worried parents might question my ability.

Instead, everyone has been so kind, and grateful parents like Mia’s mom make me feel so protective of them and my little class.

“I don’t mind working with her after school if she wants. I know the dance academy is expensive, but she has a lot of natural talent.”

I can’t help thinking about Austin and Allie and their situation. His only hope for college is a scholarship or borrowing money and hope he makes it to the pros so he can pay it back.

“You would?” Her mom’s eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth. “She has my permission!”

I exhale a laugh. “I’ll talk to her about it next class. She just needs to polish a few things and learn a few more advanced steps. Things I won’t teach in the regular class.”

There’s no way those beginners could learn to pirouette or fouetté, but Mia will need to know them if she wants to be considered for a college or a company.

“I’ll help her with an audition video, too.” I do my best to recall everything she’ll need to apply. “I can teach her a short scene from The Nutcracker or Swan Lake to perform.”

It was all the things I was in the process of doing when my dance career fell apart.

“Oh, thank you,” her mother whispers, and I look up to see her eyes are filled with tears. “Having you here is such a blessing to us.”

Her words put a lump in my throat. They reinforce my reclamation of the “those who can’t, teach” insult.

Stepping forward, I give the woman a brief hug. “It’s my job. I’m here to help my students learn and grow.”

When I get home, I have my phone out to FaceTime with Logan while I make myself dinner.

“And when her mom started to cry, I almost cried with her.” I’m grating cheese onto a bowl of black bean and corn Maque choux Thomas sent home for me.

“You’ve got to stop with the crying while we’re apart.” He’s rubbing a towel over the side of his wet hair. “I don’t like it.”

He’s in a white tee and sweats, and he’s holding the phone as he walks to his refrigerator to take out a plastic cup containing a dark green liquid. I’m pretty sure it’s Garrett’s “signature” protein shake that he endorses for sports radio.

“They’re happy tears.” I take my dinner out of the microwave and a Guinness out of the refrigerator. “Are you drinking Garrett’s special formula?”

He nods, taking a long sip. “The man is a beast. He nearly killed me at leg day today.”

“I can’t tell.” I take a sip of my own beverage. “You’re looking like a snack tonight.”

That makes him laugh, and my stomach squeezes at the sound. “You’re looking like a teacher I’d like to…”

“Hey, Logan.” The loud voice from behind me almost makes me toss my phone across the room.

“Zane!” I fuss. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I do still live here.” He takes my beer off the counter before continuing down the hall. “Night, you two. Try and keep the noise down.”

Shaking my head, I go to the refrigerator and pull out another beer. “Craig said he’s got me covered the weekend of the gala. I can leave Thursday after class and stay all the way til Monday morning!”

“I’ll arrange a jet to pick you up.” He takes out his iPad and starts tapping.

My nose wrinkles. “I’ll have to fly all by myself?”

“You’ll be amazed how fast you get used to it.” He has that snobby tone he gets sometimes, more and more now that he’s back in New York.

It reminds me that he’s always had all the money in the world, unlike my redneck family. Davis always curled his nose when I’d show up in bare feet or talk too loudly, but so far, Logan doesn’t seem to mind. He’s a little obsessed with my red toenails, and he’s best friends with Garrett, after all.

“What’s that face about?” He’s also the most observant boyfriend I’ve ever had.

“Nothing.” I force a laugh. “I was just feeling nervous or something.”

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll send you everything you need to do and the flight attendants will take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

I grab the bottle of Louisiana Hot Sauce and shake a few drops into my bowl. “What about your friends at the party?” My voice is quiet. “What if they don’t like me?”

He pauses a moment, and I appreciate him not dismissing my question as childish or silly. “I know my friends pretty well.” He walks over and sits in the chair. “The guys will love you, and Johnson’s wife Maddy is from a little town in Georgia. She’s dying to meet you, and Garrett will be there. I’ll be there.”

The fear in my chest relaxes a little. “That sounds good.”

“I’m not going to lie, I don’t intend to stay very long at that gala. I’ve got other plans for your visit.”

His gaze darkens, and my stomach flips. “Okay.”

“Be sure to pack that jersey.”

“It’ll be the first thing I put in my suitcase.”

The last thing I put in my suitcase is my pack of birth control pills.

I made an appointment with my gynecologist when he left and got a blood test and a prescription. It’s been three weeks—three agonizing nights watching football games, three wonderful hours after school working with Mia on her advanced ballet steps. She’s a fast learner, and she hangs on my every word as if I’m a ballet oracle.

I’ve talked Austin into staying after a few times to work with us on lifts. He’s also a fast learner, and his hands are strong. He’s used to making sudden turns from football, and I’m already planning how I can modify the dance of the Snow Queen and her Cavalier in the Nutcracker for them to perform.

Three weeks, and I’m finally walking into the small Callahan terminal an hour east of our home.

“Miss Bradford?” A woman in a pale gray uniform greets me as I walk through the glass doors. As I expected, I’m the only person here besides the crew.

“This is for you.” She hands me a small, robin’s-egg blue bag.

“Thank you.” My voice is quiet as I roll my suitcase.

“I’ll give your suitcase to the porter, and you can come right this way.”

I nod, following her out another door to a small jet with a short ladder in front of it.

Once I’m onboard, she puts a flute of champagne on an oval table in front of me. “I’ll be right up here if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” I take out my phone and send a text to Logan.

I feel like a princess.

Logan

Did you get your gift?

I haven’t opened it yet.

Logan

I’ll wait.

My lips press into a grin, and I remove the white tissue paper. A smaller, light blue box with a big, white-satin ribbon is inside. I slide the ribbon off, and the word Tiffany & Co. is stamped in black on the blue lid. My fingers tremble as I remove the lid. I might be from a small town, but I know what Tiffany means.

Inside is a beautiful pearl bracelet and matching earrings. My heart jumps, and I whisper, “Logan…” even though he can’t hear me.

Picking up my phone, I quickly tap the button to call him, and when his handsome face appears on the screen, my chest squeezes.

“They’re so beautiful.”

Although, not as beautiful as the smile he gives me. “I told you I’d buy you something better.”

Looking down at the leather bracelet on my wrist, I shake my head. “I told you, I don’t need anything better.”

“I’m thinking those pearls, my jersey, nothing else.”

The low growl in his tone clenches my core. “Sounds good to me, and I can’t wait for you to see my dress.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

Anticipation hums in my veins the entire five-hour flight. I do my best to watch the in-flight movie, but I’m not really interested in the familiar rom-com. I finish my glass of champagne, but I decline another. I try to read a spicy romance on my Kindle, but it only makes me want to see Logan more.

It’s dark when we finally begin our descent into the Teterboro Airport. I can see the Manhattan skyline, and a wave of nerves steals my breath. We touch down, and I shoot Craig a quick text.

Why am I so nervous to go back to NYC?

He replies so fast, I wonder if he was holding his phone.

Craig

Because I’m not with you.

It would help. Why didn’t I bring you again?

Craig

Somebody has to serve the Fire Eaters, and your rich boyfriend wants you all to himself.

My stomach tightens, and I chew my lip.

I have stage fright.

Craig

It’s going to be the best reunion.

Maybe he’s forgotten what a hot mess I am.

Craig

Slip him a pepper. He’ll remember.

That makes me snort a laugh.

Love you, Bish.

Craig

Love you, Deedee.

The plane stops, and the flight attendant opens the door. My nerves have twisted a knot in my throat, and my fingers tremble as I collect my things. I’m just walking down the short staircase when I look up and see a tall, handsome man in jeans and a blazer waiting on the tarmac.

His hands are in his pockets, and his dark hair moves in the breeze. He’s watching me with that straight white grin, and the desire in his blue eyes turns the nerves in my stomach into frantic butterflies.

I run straight into his arms, and he lifts me off my feet. Our mouths seal, lips part, tongues slide together, and the longing in my chest almost makes me cry.

I swallow back my emotions, but my voice still cracks. “I’ve missed you.”

So much… I don’t say it out loud, but I’m pretty sure he knows.

“I hired the fastest SUV to get us back to my place.” His voice is low, and he lowers me to my feet. “I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

His arm is around me as we walk to the vehicle, and he holds me securely to his side. On the drive to his apartment, he holds my hand, occasionally lifting it to kiss the back of my fingers. It’s a rush of warmth in my veins every single time.

“What’s the Dare dish tonight?” His eyes trace my hair, and I want to get out of my seat and straddle his lap.

“Shrimp-stuffed jalapeños.”

His dark brow quirks. “That seems tame for a Dare dish.”

“Craig’s calling it his Disney Dare.” That makes Logan chuckle, and I explain. “He doesn’t like to handle the really dangerous peppers.”

“That’s only for my girl.”

His girl. It’s another fizzy rush of warmth in my veins.

Finally, we’re at his building, and the moment the Tahoe stops, he’s out of his seatbelt, helping me out of mine. Large hands span my waist, and his eagerness makes me laugh. It has my insides hot and slippery.

“What about my things?” My hands are on his shoulders as he helps me out.

“I’ve already paid Fred to get them to the doorman. He’ll have them delivered to my suite.” He practically carries me across the sidewalk.

“Welcome home, Mr. Logan.” A man in an embellished coat and hat holds the door as we hurry through it.

“Thanks, Klaus.” He barely gets the words out before we’re at the elevator.

He presses the button repeatedly, and I can’t stop laughing. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder?”

“I might.” He turns to look at me, and the need in his eyes echoes mine, pulsing in my veins.

Seeing it reflected back at me is the most uniquely satisfying emotion I’ve ever experienced. He’s missed me as terribly as I’ve missed him, and as soon as the elevator door opens…

And we wait for an elderly lady to collect her little dog and pick up her umbrella and pick up her bag and double-check she didn’t leave anything behind and slowly exit the small compartment…

“It’s like she didn’t know she was getting off,” he mutters impatiently, and I have to hold my nose to keep from exploding with a laugh.

I can’t seem to stop the excitement bubbling higher in my chest. At last, we’re alone in the elevator, and he exhales a growl as he presses my back to the wall, covering my mouth with his and lifting me off my feet.

My fingers are in his hair, and our mouths consume as we shoot higher to his penthouse suite. We’re sloppy in our haste, licking and pulling each others’ lips. Nipping and breathing faster.

I barely hear the ding. I’m still wrapped around him, my mouth on his neck, as he crosses the short foyer and unlocks his door.

The door slams, as he carries me straight to his bedroom. With feverish haste, he rips off his blazer followed quickly by his black tee. A satisfied hum slips from my lips at the sight of his lined torso.

I’ve shoved off my leggings and my hoodie, and I’m ripping off my undershirt when large hands cover my hips.

“Oh,” I gasp as his lips touch my stomach.

“Give me this.” He rips my panties down, and his face is buried in my crotch as I drop my shirt to the floor.

“Logan!” I cry at the first pass of his tongue over my clit.

All the weeks we’ve been apart, the hours on the plane, the minutes driving here, getting up to this room, it’s burning anticipation, and it has me on the edge so fast. My lips part, and my legs are shaking. He doesn’t stop.

Large hands cup my ass, and he slips two fingers into my drenched core, forcing a deep moan from my chest.

“You’re so wet for me.” His mouth moves to the crease of my leg, and the scuff of his beard across my sensitive skin makes me gasp.

“I need you inside me.” I slide my hands over his shoulders. “It’s been too long.”

I need to feel his hard body pressed against mine, his hard cock inside me moving fast, feverish. He passes his tongue over my clit once more, and my thighs jump.

Standing, he catches me around the waist, pulling me tight against his body as we move higher onto the bed. My legs part, and he pauses, looking into my eyes. We discussed birth control, getting tested, and we shared our results.

“No more condoms?”

I cup his face in my hands, lifting my lips to his. “No more.”

With a groan, he captures my mouth, and our kiss is ravenous. We’re starving for each other. I lift my knees, and he reaches between us, lining up the tip. With a low groan, he presses into me slowly, stretching me wide, arching my back as he fills me.

“Oh, god,” I gasp as my pussy starts to spasm. “Logan…”

I’ve never been this way, responding to every breath, every touch, the smallest whisper. His mouth covers mine again as he starts to thrust. The way he fills me makes me cry out. My arms are around his neck, and I’m right on the edge.

“I’m going to come.” He groans. “You feel too good.”

His hips pick up speed, jerky and desperate. I’m right there with him, gasping and lifting my hips to meet every thrust. Muscled arms are around my waist, and he rolls me to be on top of him.

I reach forward to grab the headboard, and my hips glide up and down, taking him from root to tip. His hands grip my ass, squeezing and spreading me, grinding my body against his, but I’m lost in my own sensations, chasing the orgasm swirling and tightening in my lower belly.

His deep moans, his hands gripping my ass and moving me faster, drive me higher. I jerk on the headboard as I keep pace, sweat trickling down my neck, slipping between my breasts. I’m right there, balancing on the edge of the cliff when his tongue slides up my ribs to my nipple.

He teases it with his tongue and teeth, and I break with a deep, shuddering cry, almost feral. My body jerks then bows forward. My thighs tighten at his waist, and I grasp his shoulders.

He continues to move me up and down his cock, and I feel him pulsing as he groans, his voice breaking as he comes. Leaning forward on his chest, I hold him through the shudders, through the trembling bliss of orgasm. We’re together, finishing in each other’s arms.

He holds me so tightly, and I listen to his heart pounding as fast as mine. We’re panting as we start to come down. My hands are on his chest, and my eyes close. Strong arms hold me, and I nuzzle in the cocoon of his embrace.

Soft lips press against my head, my neck, and my shoulder. He rolls us to the side, and we both seem to be fumbling with the intensity of what just happened. All those nights of looking through screens, needing to touch each other, longing to feel each other’s bodies have brought us to this place. It’s like a dream come true.

Lifting his hand, he traces my hair off my cheek with his finger. “I can hold you now.”

“Every minute.”

Scooting forward in the bed, I press my face against his warm skin. I inhale his scent of citrus and sandalwood and soap and sweat. Salt is on my tongue from kissing and biting and licking his body. Strong hands hold me like he’ll never let me go, and he gently strokes my hair.

I could fall asleep this way, and I almost do when I feel him stirring. He stands, scooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bathroom.