Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)

The orgasm was unexpected and she gasped out her pleasure. Jack immediately plunged two fingers inside of her, which made her tremble. She had to hang on to him to keep from slipping back into the tub. She drew her legs apart wider and pressed into him as her release rippled through her over and over.


When she was finished, she opened her eyes and saw him smiling at her.

“So, about the jets,” he began.

She laughed. “Maybe they’re not so weird.”

She slipped back into the water. He pulled her close and gently touched her between her legs. She shuddered at the feel of him.

“Your turn,” she whispered and patted the edge of the tub.

He sat where she had. He was already hard and when she bent to take him in her mouth, he groaned.

She shifted to brace herself on the tub, anchoring her knees and her feet, then drew him into her mouth again. At that moment, Jack shifted her so that one of the jets was pointed directly at the apex of her thighs. The bubbling water caressed her exactly where she was most swollen.

“This way it’s good for both of us,” Jack told her.

And it was.

* * *

THE LAST THING Jack was looking for was another meeting, but here he was, back at Cal U Fool’s Gold for another go-round with Tad, the athletic director, on the subject of the university starting a football program. Normally he would have been looking for an excuse to cancel. He could claim a last-minute meeting with a client. But he didn’t—for two reasons. First, he was kind of excited about the thought of watching a team being built from the ground up. Second, these days he was nice and mellow most of the time. He knew the cause and was looking forward to having his way with her later that night.

He walked into the conference room three minutes before the start of the meeting and nodded at everyone. University president Newham was there, across from Tad. There was also a guy Jack didn’t recognize. He was tall enough and built, but if Jack had to guess, he would say the other man worked hard for a living. His muscles were more from labor than sports.

The man in question nodded at him, then reached across the table to shake hands.

“Zane Nicholson.”

“Jack McGarry.”

Zane sat down. “So you’re the football player. I’ve been hearing about you.”

“I can’t say the same. You’re alumni?”

Zane’s expression tightened. “No. I went to Texas A&M.”

“You play ball?”

“No. I worked to put myself through school.”

Jack had, too. His job had been on the field. But he knew what the other man meant. A lot of people assumed that an athletic scholarship was a free ride to education. What they didn’t understand was that there were pitfalls along the way. An injury could knock an athlete out of the program in an instant. Bad performance was nearly as quick. There was also training time, practices, appearances, the games themselves. All of which kept the student athlete from his or her classes.

Worse, the star athletes often passed classes they rarely attended, which meant at the end of four or five years of college, the student had a degree but little actual education. And the odds of going pro were incredibly small.

Jack had insisted on getting his grades the old-fashioned way. Which meant his GPA wasn’t impressive, but he had graduated on his own terms. He’d had plenty of friends who had injured themselves in their junior or senior year and then had lost the scholarship along with any chance at staying in college.

But there was no point in explaining that to anyone. No one had a whole lot of sympathy.

“The Aggies have a good team this year,” Jack said, then grinned. “You know, for Texans.”

Zane smiled. “Don’t expect me to defend the state. I was a California boy in the middle of all that. I took my share of ribbing. But it was where I wanted to study.”

“Mr. Nicholson has a large ranch north of town,” President Newham said. “He’s here at the request of the mayor. He’s our second citizen liaison.”

A muscle in Zane’s jaw tightened. “Something I will be taking up with the mayor.”

Jack relaxed back in his chair. “She has a way of getting people to do things they don’t want to do.”

“Tell me about it,” Zane growled. “First the town annexed my land, now this.”

“What do you mean ‘annexed’? They took it from you?”

“No. Most of my ranch is on unincorporated land. They moved the boundaries of the city to include the house and barn area.” He scowled. “Mayor Marsha swears they’ll be bringing in city water and sewer in the next few years.”

“You’d rather not have the city at all,” Jack said, guessing the other man preferred to do things his way.