Scoring with the Football Star (Book 1, Girls’ Night Trilogy)

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Accolades & Reviews

“ASK FOR IT is a well written love story and Julia and Trevor have sizzling chemistry together. Once I started this book, I didn’t want to put it down.” ~  Karen at  Cocktails and Books

“Because while Trevor and JJ’s story is highly romantic and lovey-dovey, it’s also hot as Hades! The chemistry between the couple is instantaneous and absolutely combustible.” ~ 4.5 Stars  Silla Beaumontat Just Erotic Romance Reviews

“Great read! Couldn’t put this one down. Trevor and JJ are great characters with real life issues. Different from other books I’ve read from Selena Blake but great book. You want everything to work out for this couple with realistic problems. Julia and her 3 other friends are awesome as well.” ~ Christine Jenkins on Amazon.

“I really enjoyed this story, I laughed, I grinned, and I felt their troubles and rooted for the both of them to figure things out. Selena Blake did not disappoint this reader. I hope we get to see these characters again in the future.” ~ ZR1000 on Amazon

“Contemporary romance, ASK FOR IT is an enjoyable story. Not only are the two main characters delightful and very believable, but without a doubt several of the sub-characters  were very entertaining and could step up to the plate with there own story to be told. I liked Selena’s writing style and how the story smoothly included several aspects of Julia’s life so the reader can complete the whole picture as to who she really is as a person.” ~ Shona from Vampires, Werewolves & Fairies Oh My!

Kiss N Tell review for Ask For It – From Scandalicious Book Reviews by Nikki – Check out the Podcast(starts around minute 54) – ‘Thought the book was lovely and good.’

EXCERPT

Chapter Two

JJ wasn’t going in. She wasn’t.

She should just head on to her hotel and figure out what to do for dinner. But as she clutched her handbag and stared at the colorful display of sneakers behind the large window, she felt her irritation rise. Why shouldn’t she go in? She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Straightening her spine, she reached for the door handle and pulled. JJ didn’t know what she expected to find in the shoe store. Obviously shoes, but certainly not the gorgeous salesman behind the counter.

He stood with his back to her, a phone pressed against his right ear. He was tall with broad shoulders and plenty of chiseled muscle filling out the navy t-shirt and well-worn jeans.

Staring is rude, her mother’s voice whispered through her mind. JJ knew that but she couldn’t help herself.

There was something familiar about the man and she found it nearly impossible to tear her gaze away. Those muscles made her tingle in some very important places and it’d been a long time since her body had reacted so strongly, so quickly. There was no denying the increased heart rate, the sweaty palms, the way her knees trembled or her breasts tightened.

Stopping next to a display of walking shoes and she forced herself to look at the colorful laces and take a deep breath. The scent of synthetic material and rubber soles was thick in the air.

Where did she know him from? A covert glance from the corner of her eye let her take in his profile. Holy smokes. At this rate she’d need a glass of ice water before he even turned around.

As if she’d called his name, whatever it was, he hung up the phone and turned toward her. JJ bit back a gasp as she took in the golden blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. She’d know that handsome face anywhere…his strong jaw, full lips, and that sexy dimple in his cheek.

Trevor Wyatt was only one of the best looking men to have ever played in the NFL. Not to mention, one of the cockiest. At least until his accident.

Suddenly she was twenty four again and he was fresh out of the shower. The locker room was crowded with players and journalists but he’d drawn her gaze like a diamond drew a barracuda. He’d been her fifth interview, and boy was it memorable. The silver-tongued stud had stood there wrapped in nothing but a towel, flirted his ears off, and given her an interview…plus an invitation to dinner. She’d declined, not wanting to be involved with a jock who was only after one thing.

Not the type to be easily dissuaded, he’d asked her out every chance he got over the years. Until he’d suddenly disappeared from the sport a little over twelve months ago.

The chemistry between them had always been thick as butter. And once she’d lost the opportunity for another invitation, she’d really missed their easy flirtation. She’d never forgiven herself for declining. He may have been a playboy in his hay day, but he was one fine playboy.

And the star of numerous fantasies.

She gave him a quick smile and moved over to a rack of running shoes, picking up one with pink laces.

Why the hell was he working here? At a shoe store in New York City? He was a millionaire many times over. Unlike many players, he’d never been extravagant that she knew of so the chances of him needing cash were slim. But what did she know?

She knew he’d been in a car crash that had left him on the sidelines of the game he’d loved so much. But surely he could host a show or coach or something…

Not for the first time, she wondered if there could have been something between the two of them. She’d never had time to date anyone seriously; there was always a sporting event to be covered. He on the other hand had dated a dozen glamorous, famous women over the years.

A freckle faced teen in clothes three sizes too large joined Trevor behind the counter. Grinning, he said something, smacked Trevor on the back and then glanced around the store.

JJ dropped her gaze to the shoe in her hand. The thick sole and padding promised a heavenly run.

“Can I help you?” The teen’s voice cracked a little as he approached. She turned toward him and noted the look of male appreciation in his eyes.

She’d love a new pair of sneakers. Something light and dreamy. Something that offered support and cushion. She zeroed in to the price tag for the shoe in her hand. One hundred and forty four dollars.

Her blood pressure spiked.

How many pairs could she buy with nine hundred dollars? Better yet, when would she get the money back? An even better question was howhad they stolen her credit card number? How had they used it? Was it an inside job?

The bank had only told her that the money had been used for purchases at this store and asked if she’d been in the city or knew anyone who was.

She knew next to nothing about thieves and how they stole things. What she did know was she wanted answers. And justice.

Taking a deep breath she glanced back up at the teen. “No. Thank you.”

“Okay. Well, my shift just ended so if you need something, ask Trevor.” He jerked his thumb, which sported black fingernail polish, toward the counter and then headed toward the door.

Ask Trevor.

If there’d been any doubt in her mind about the gorgeous man’s identity, the kid had cleared that up.

Ask Trevor.

That sounded simple enough. But just what was she going to ask Trevor. Dozens of questions popped into her brain.

How was he doing these days?

What had he been doing since he left the NFL?

Did he miss playing football?

Most importantly she wanted to know why he was working here and where her money had gone.

Deep down, a part of her wanted to know what it would have been like to accept his dinner invitation and see where it led. To see if their chemistry was as explosive as she’d always assumed it would be.

He probably wouldn’t recognize her anyway. She’d lost twenty pounds last year thanks to a no carb diet and a new found love of running. Well, as much as one could love exercise.

Besides, her blonde hair was short and dark brown now.

She’d made the change when John had taken over the reins at CSN and passed her by for story after story. She even wore brown contacts whenever she went into the office, to tone down the natural blue-gray color so many men found distracting. It was obvious by John’s patronizing tone that he hadn’t taken her seriously in the beginning despite her portfolio. This trip was proof that her physical changes had helped him see her as one of the guys.

No. Trevor Wyatt wouldn’t recognize her.

It wouldn’t matter if he did. She couldn’t just walk up to him and demand to know where her money was, could she? He probably wouldn’t even know. And there was no way she could ask him to dinner. She’d lost her chance. Besides, he was probably involved with someone tall and leggy, curvy in all the right places.

Not that JJ cared. She should leave. Just turn and walk right out the door. Back into the sunlight, away from him, away from the answers she so desperately wanted.

Instead she found herself drifting closer to the counter, as if her feet had a mind of their own. She kept her gaze locked on the rows of shoes covering the wall, floor to ceiling.

Maybe she should just call her bank again. Let them handle it. Yeah, that was a good idea. She could call them from her hotel.

“Let me know if I can get anything from the back for you,” a deep, honeyed voice called. She turned toward it and Trevor offered her a brief smile.

Her stomach did a round-off back handspring, back tuck before hula-hooping around her knees. The reaction was nothing new. She always experienced a little physics defying sensation in her gut when he spoke to her, not to mention a little shortness of breath.

When he looked her up and down, his pensive blue gaze lingering on her legs, her pulse started to hammer. She was used to that too. And damn, she missed it. For whatever inexplicable, undeniable reason, she always felt so alive when he was near. All her senses heightened and everything seemed more acute, more exciting.

“Thanks.” She glanced back at the shoes and decided it was time to go. The sneakers weren’t in her price range and she wasn’t about to splurge on running shoes when she’d been eating salad and noodles for the last week.

Every spare dime went into fixing up her latest flip; a cute condo in midtown Atlanta. Not that she had many spare dimes at the moment. And even if she was willing to splurge, most of the shoes that she was interested in would require her to dip into her savings since she didn’t get paid until next Friday.

Dipping into savings wasn’t a possibility. She’d specifically set up savings in CDs and Money Market Funds that she couldn’t touch without penalty for years at a time. She knew herself, and her impulsiveness, far too well. It’s how she’d gotten into flipping properties. Well, that and a persuasive but handy-with-a-hammer stepbrother.

Despite a healthy nest egg, she still lived with the fear of having nothing to eat. Nowhere safe to sleep. Funny how most people couldn’t remember their fourth birthday. JJ remembered hers perfectly. She and her mother had been homeless. There were no presents to celebrate four years on the planet. No cake either.

Turning, she started for the door but Trevor was there reorganizing a table of slip on sneakers.

“Didn’t find anything?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Really? Out of all these shoes…” He glanced around and then his gaze zeroed in on her feet. Inch by inch he surveyed her legs and she was thanking the powers that be that told her to wear the black knee length skirt today. And that she’d shaved this morning.

When his eyes skimmed over her hips she resisted the urge to straighten her blouse. But then those sinful blue eyes lingered on her breasts and she felt them swell. Her nipples hardened as if he was actually touching them, and she crossed her arms beneath her chest.

His perusal didn’t last long, no more than a few seconds but he was thorough. Very thorough. And her body reacted to him, to his incredible size and obvious strength and dashing good looks. Her breathing grew slightly labored, almost shallow by the time his gaze locked with hers.

Unadulterated interest was etched into his face and she licked her lips nervously.

“You’re a runner,” he declared quietly, sounding sure of himself and pleased with the discovery.

She nodded.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can show you? Maybe you’ll find something that fits perfectly.”

For a brief moment she thought he was making an innuendo. Of course there was something he could show her, and heaven help her, she’d been waiting for years to see how it fit.

Heat flared across her cheeks. God, if he only knew what she’d been thinking.

“How about this one? There’s even a thirty percent off sale.” He held out a backless black and pink sneaker. Unable to help herself, she took it from him and studied it. Flipping it over, she glanced at the price. Twenty five, with a thirty percent off coupon. It was cute and looked like a comfortable knock-around shoe, so she nodded.

“Seven and a half?” he guessed.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him, then smiled.

“You must see a lot of feet.” That made her wonder just how long he’d been working here to be able to size her up so quickly.

The corners of that come-here-and-kiss-me-mouth turned up and then he headed for the back room. Damn. He was still so graceful for a man his size. And she was still tingling.

She took a seat in a nearby chair and crossed her legs at the ankles. Why were there butterflies doing a break dance in her stomach? It wasn’t like she’d never had a good looking man smile at her before. Hell, thisgood looking man had smiled at her before. Dozens of times.

But she hadn’t felt this heart stopping, stomach tingling excitement before. Or was it nervousness? She hadn’t felt that either.

“Here you go. Seven and a half.” Before she could move, he squatted down in front of her, wrapped a large warm hand around her left leg. His palm slid down to her ankle, awakening every nerve ending along the way, and lifted her foot. His other hand slipped off her ballet flat and she sucked in a breath. The sight was a study in contrast, his skin so much more tanned than hers.

Sensual awareness shot up her legs, bounced around inside her, and then settled heavily in her womb. Her clit actually throbbed, oh-so-ready for his touch. She blinked, hardly able to believe how strong her response was. He could just slide his hands up over her knees, past the hem of her skirt…

She mentally shook herself and stared at the man before her. If she wasn’t mistaken he was thinking about the very same thing. Shamelessly, her knees fell apart, a fraction of an inch, but a fraction nonetheless. A fraction that gave him a better view, if the look on his face was any indication.

Thank God she’d followed rule number one.

A muffled door chime sounded and his head whipped toward the door. Hers did the same and heat crept into her cheeks again. Good grief, what was she thinking? Another customer had just walked in and here she was ready to spread her legs for a man she hadn’t seen in over a year. A man who likely didn’t even remember her name.

She snapped her knees shut and glanced at the shoe box on the floor. His gaze followed hers and then he reached for the box. Retrieving the shoe, he slipped it onto her foot. For the briefest of instants she felt very Cinderella-esque. A delicious feeling, hopelessly romantic and thoroughly silly, made her giddy.

Then he slipped off her other flat and replaced it with the other backless sneaker. Heaven help her, he had warm hands. And her feet were freezing, not that that was anything new. He must think she was made of ice.

“Test ‘em out.” He stood and held out his hand. She swallowed hard and placed her palm in his.

Very warm. Very big. He pulled her up. Very strong.

And he smelled good. Clean, like soap and detergent mixed with shaving cream. Her insides clenched again.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and let her hand drop. He moved off to help the other customer and she walked around. Very comfortable.

The shoes gripped her feet, provided comfort and stability without being too rigid. Not bad for twenty five bucks.

She’d just decided to get them when the other customer left.

“Sorry about that,” he said. She had to look way up to meet his gaze. The sigh on her lips was involuntary but totally appropriate. Gracious, he was handsome. More handsome than she remembered. He’d cut his hair a little shorter but everything else, his size, intensity, potency was just as she remembered.

She licked her lips and tried to form a coherent thought. “No problem. I love these.” She pointed a toe and dropped her gaze to admire the shoe.

“Great.” He dragged his gaze up from her feet and they stared at each other as he searched her face. “You look familiar.”

She smiled. “I’m surprised you recognized me. I interviewed you six years ago.”

He visibly stiffened and his easy going charm vanished. “How did you find out I was here?”

His defensiveness would have put her on the offense except he looked so vulnerable. So she grinned up at him. “Sorry gorgeous, but I’m not here for you. I’m in town for the game.”

“And you just happened to walk into my cousin’s store where I’m working for the week?” He sounded doubtful.

“Actually, I came in here because someone stole nine hundred dollars from my bank account and used it to buy shoes at this store,” she said, feeling her irritation flood back.

Deep creases bracketed his handsome mouth. Hands on his hips, he stared her down. “Nice try, lady.”

He didn’t believe her. Arrogant, gorgeous jerk.

She marched over to the chair and put the sneakers back into their box. Then she slipped on her ballet flats and slung her purse over her shoulder. Picking up the box, she headed for the counter.

He looked baffled as he circled around to the register and scanned the bar code.

“Who the hell buys nine hundred dollars’ worth of sneakers? I mean, if you’re going to steal my money, at least buy something awesome…like Prada. Or Minolos. Or Jimmy Choos.” She sighed wistfully, expecting him to crack a smile but his frown stayed firmly in place.

“I’m not giving you an interview.”

“I don’t want an interview. I want my money back.”

“I don’t have your money.”

“Someone here has my money. My bank is looking into it. Then you’ll be out of the money and the product.”

“Why are you here if you don’t want an interview and your bank is looking into it?”

She thought about his question for a few seconds.

“I’ve been eating salad and noodles for the last week thanks to whoever stole from me. So when I got sent to New York this weekend it seemed like serendipity, I suppose. I wanted to see the scene of the crime. I see you have surveillance cameras. I’ll mention it to the bank.”

He braced his hands on the counter and his biceps bulged in a way that made her wet. Those gorgeous blue eyes turned icy as he glared down at her. He looked so formidable that she almost took a step back. Almost. But she’d grown up in a house full of alpha males and she’d learned to hold her ground.

“Are you trying to start trouble?”

She put her hands on the counter and glared right back up at him. “No. Why are you being so ornery?”

“I’m being ornery?” He pointed his finger at her and huffed out a breath. “Listen lady—”

She narrowed her gaze on his finger. “Don’t point your finger at me you big baboon.”

He dropped his finger, gave a frustrated sigh and uttered an apology. Running his fingers through his hair, he stalked toward the door that led to the back room.

The chime sounded again. He called out a greeting and then glanced back at her. As if he was worried she’d create a scene, he nodded toward the open door behind him. “Come here.”

The words sounded more like a growl than a request. But something in his voice, or maybe it was the set of his shoulders, made her do his bidding.

He reached for her arm and gently tugged her into the storage area. The touch shot through her awakening any parts he hadn’t already kicked out of dormancy with his smile.

“I’m really not here to do a story on you. Your life is your life. I just want my money back. And barring that…” She glanced toward the door. “And those shoes.” She offered him what he hoped was a warm smile.

“If you’re lying to me–”

So much for trying the sweet-talking Southern route.

JJ nixed the smile, put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Just ring up my shoes please. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

He searched her face. She saw his hands close at his sides, flex, and close again. How many times had she fantasized about those same hands and what they could do to her body? How much pleasure they could bring, teasing her nipples, fingering her until she was begging him to let her come…

She glanced up at his face again. What was he wrestling with?

And if he didn’t trust her, why was he staring at her lips the way a man dying of thirst stared at a glass of water?

Then in a lightning fast move that had made him a legend on the field, he wrapped his big hands around her waist and hauled her against him. Her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his upper abs and their thighs collided.

Gasping, her hands settled against his chest. The man was built. And ridiculously warm.

Staring up to meet his gaze she licked her lips. If he was hoping to startle a confession out of her, he’d be waiting a hell of a long time. But if he wanted to hear her beg…

He stared right back. The voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to kiss him. Finally find out what all the fuss was about and verify that he’d been worth every naughty fantasy she’d ever had about him.

As if the invisible force holding them apart snapped, she stretched up and he bent down, their lips meeting in the middle.

Her eyes drifted shut and her breath stalled in her throat. His kiss was hot, firm, rough… Yep, everything she’d always fantasized about. And like him, bigger and bolder than her ordinary ho-hum life. She thrust a hand through his hair, needing to be closer. His tongue speared between her lips and everything feminine inside her melted. She melted. Against him, into him, beneath his hot hands that seared through the thin fabric of her blouse.

Oh God. He felt so good. Getting lost in his kiss felt so good. So right.

As if suddenly realizing how much time they’d wasted over the years, his big hands moved to the buttons on her blouse, fumbling to get them out of the holes. She couldn’t be sure but she thought he was trembling.

That brought out her bolder side. The idea that this man, the man who’d run eighty yards to score the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl, could be unsteady, that there’d be any vulnerability in him whatsoever was awe inspiring.

JJ dropped her purse to the ground and then sucked on his tongue. His hands stopped their course as he groaned. But he quickly returned to the job, freeing her from her silken prison. After tugging the shirt out of her skirt he splayed his fingers around her waist again, making her feel small and feminine. Then, almost reverently, he slid his hands north and cupped her breasts, testing their weight, tracing the scalloped trim with his fingertips.

Her knees knocked together as he pinched the stiffened peaks. “Oh…” She gasped for breath, feeling a little light headed.

Trevor seemed to know instinctively what she needed and how very wet he was making her. He turned and her back met a metal shelving unit. She winced at the pain between her shoulder blades but didn’t stop trailing her fingers through his hair.

With his big body holding her there, locked in place, his thumbs continued to torment her nipples with slow circles and steady pressure.

When his lips moved down her jaw, chill bumps coursed over her skin like wildfire. She shivered against him, clutching him to her. He licked the hollow of her throat and she let out an honest-to-God whimper. Gracious, what was he doing to her?

“You taste like sugar,” he murmured against her skin. “You know what my favorite carnival food is?”

His lips nibbled their way back up to her ear. Oh my—

“Funnel cake?”

“Cotton candy. A mix of the pink and the blue.”

“Sounds sweet. Ahh…” He bit her earlobe gently, tugging just hard enough to bring another flood of moisture between her thighs. At this rate her panties would be soaked before he even got them off her.

“You taste sweeter than you look.”

“Gee thanks.” She slid her hands down the solid wall of his chest, relishing each wonderful muscle. After all this time, she was finally able to touch him.

“Have you seen yourself lately?” he whispered. “As much as I hate to admit it, I know a thing or two about women’s lingerie.”

JJ’s temper spiked. “I’ll just bet you do.” She pushed him away but he barely moved.

“Seriously.” He leaned back just far enough to stare down at her breasts. “Black lingerie. Scalloped edges. I can almost see through the cups, beautiful. A sweet woman does not wear underwear like this.”

She raised an eyebrow at his assessment. Did that make her a bad girl? She supposed there was a case for that considering her current circumstances.

“It makes me wonder…” He trailed a finger down the valley between her breasts. “…if you’re wearing matching panties.”

The look in his eyes was pure mischief. She forgot all about her temper as a sultry smile curved her lips. If she was going to be bad…she might as well go all the way.

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