by Britney Bell
Personal Foul
Texas Tornados, Novella Two
Britney Bell
Contents
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1. Avery
2. Drew
3. Avery
4. Drew
5. Avery
6. Drew
7. Avery
8. Drew
9. Avery
10. Drew
11. Avery
12. Drew
13. Avery
14. Drew
15. Avery
16. Drew
Epilogue
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PERSONAL FOUL Copyright © 2020 by Britney Bell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions or locales is completely coincidental.
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1
Avery
“Mrs. O’hare, for the last time, I am your personal shopper, not your dog walker.” I’m stern, but this little woman has pushed me to be that way. It’s like talking to a wall, she can’t remember what I tell her or doesn’t want to.
“Oh darling, Bucky won’t be any trouble at all. Just walk him around the block, but he likes to walk heading east first. Make sure he doesn’t get too hot in this summer heat. Take an umbrella to shade him,” she says as she’s sitting in the patio chair that’s just outside the open door, sipping her martini, which she has also requested that I make for her before.
I sit the grocery bag on the counter harder than I should, but I’ve had it. She is such a stuck-up snob who thinks she can order me around. I’ve tried to have patience dealing with the lady, but I can’t take this anymore. I’ve only worked for her for a month, and every day I have to plead with her that I am only the shopper, not the housekeeper, dog walker, bartender, or laundry maid. That is it.
“I’m sorry, thank you for the opportunity to work with you this past month. Today will be my last day,” with that I leave the groceries on the counter and walk out.
This job was really important, but I will not be treated with such disrespect. Being a personal shopper for the wealthy is challenging sometimes, and that is why I have set my ground rules and refuse to work for people who try to run over me. In this line of work, you can quickly get sucked in. Before you know it, you are their lap dog at their disposal to do all of their bidding. Not happening with this chick.
I climb into my Tahoe, and an immediate feeling of a heavy weight lifts off my shoulders. Money will be tight until I pick up another client, but this is why I have my rainy-day fund and will use it to make ends meet.
First stop is the grocery store to grab some food. No eating out for me now that I’m on a strict budget. Wine is not actually a food necessity. Or is it? Anyway, it will definitely be on the grocery list. I still don’t know that much about the different types of wine, so I’m on a journey to try them all. I do know that the dark red pack a bigger punch and will probably be what I go for today.
Lost in thought as I drive into the store’s parking lot, I start to pull in between my chosen two white lines that mark the single space, when all of the sudden a bright red sports car zips into where I was planning to park. Ugg, the nerve of some people. All I can do is just sit in my car and stare and wait to see the jerk. Of course, he jumps out of the car and heads the other direction without ever turning around so I can at least flip him off. This tall, very fit specimen of a man is totally oblivious to his surroundings. He’s got a drool worthy ass, but he’s still a jerk for stealing my spot, acting like he owns the place.
Whatever, that’s just how my day is going. I pick another place to park and head into the store. Maybe I should grab two bottles of wine, go home drink them both and sleep until tomorrow night. Hopefully that will let this bad luck streak pass.
There’s a large wine selection to browse through as I look for something to catch my eye. I hunch down in front of my shopping cart to admire some of the cool wine bottles on a lower shelf. I love the bottles with unique wine labels and love to read the little stories on the back if it has one. It’s fascinating how some come from all over the world; each one has its own story.
“Ouch! Hey, watch it!” I holler. My buggy just pushed right into me, landing me hard on my ass.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” a low voice replies as he comes over and crouches down beside me. “Are you okay? I didn’t see you there.”
I take a calming breath in and swipe hair away from my face. When I look up my eyes meet big chocolate brown ones with a look of concern. “Yeah, I think so.” I glance down and notice that his t-shirt is the same color as the guy who just stole my parking space. Roaming farther down, I notice he is wearing the same color shorts. I need to see his back side, but I’m pretty sure it is him. My eyes narrow as I look back up to his face, and I say with more confidence and annoyance, “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Great, sorry again,” is all he says as he stands and turns back to his cart. Yep, it’s him alright.
“Hey!” I jump to my feet and walk up to him. “You were the jerk that jumped right in front of me and stole my parking spot, and now you just ran over me with your cart. What the hell is your problem? Can’t you see the other people around you? Do you know how rude it is to steal peoples parking, you self-centered prick?” The words are just spewing out of my mouth, rage burning in my eyes. Even though he is almost a foot taller than me, he’s backing up slowly with his hands up in a surrender position.
As the words are still rapidly firing, his body presses against the beer cooler with my finger pointing at him and shaking in his face at each reprimand exiting between my lips. The corner of his mouth turns up into a slight smile. “Oh, you think this is funny, do ya?” I scold, placing my hands on my hips and staring him down. Or rather up at him.
2
Drew
I can’t help the smile forming on my face, she is so hot all riled up. Our eyes lock, and we stand there in silence until another shopper walks up to us and says, “Excuse me, can I get to that Budweiser behind you?” One blink from me is all it takes to break us apart as this hot little piece of ass that’s giving me the fifth degree jumps back with apologies to the oncoming shopper.
Her shopping cart is right behind her, and she’s going to trip over it, so I quickly snake my arm around her waist and pull her to me in order to catch her from falling. The warmth surges something through my body. Holding her there in place against me, she feels so good in my arms.
I hear a mumble of something that sounds like, “Dang you smell good.”
My throat is all of a sudden dry, and I have to cough slightly to clear the lump in it and try to compose myself. The struggle to hold back from taking her lips that look so full and seem to be calling to me is real. I let go of her and place both hands on either side of her waist and lean down to look in her eyes.
“What, did you say something?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t, but thank you for catching me,” she responds, and a beautiful pink color tints her skin from her neck to her cheeks.
“Are we even then, or do I still owe you one more saving? Since I have two marks of misbehaving in your book.”
If looks could kill, I’d certainly be put in the hospital with wounds by the way she’s glaring at me right now. She says nothing, just stands there glowering at me with those cute dainty hands on her perfectly shaped hips.
“Okay, okay.” With my hands up in surrender again, I soften my tone and continue, “At least let me take you on a date to make up for being a jerk to you today.” Different words ramble in my head as the offer for a date tumbles out of my mouth, sounding something along the lines of: If you’d like to call it a date, or we can just jump straight into bed?
“Umm, I don’t think so,” she replies with uncertainty, so I keep pushing.
“How about a drink instead.” I can see her thinking about it, and I add, “You were going to buy wine here anyway. Let me buy you your choice of drink.” She’s still contemplating, and I think I almost have her. “There is a little pub just a block from here. You can stay parked where you are, and we can walk. We won’t even have to drive anywhere. One apology drink, then you are free to go.”
“Alright, I guess. One drink, and then I have to come back here to get my groceries.”
“Perfect, right this way. We can put our shopping carts back if we go out these doors.” Not quite believing that she accepted my invitation for a drink, I lead her toward the front exit. Mickey’s is literally just a block away, and it will be low key and semi-private, unless the entire team is there. I pray that’s not the case.
The Texas summer heat is stifling as we walk out onto the sidewalk. I’m glad we don’t have to go too far, she seems prepared for the heat with dressy shorts, a short sleeve dress shirt and sexy as hell high heel sandals. Not too many clothes to remove. The sooner the better. I keep stealing glances as we walk, her beauty is breathtaking with wavy brown hair and blue eyes, and I’ve already discovered that she’s got spunk.
The lower half of my body is strongly suggesting I get her all worked up and mad. Then I can lay her down and fuck all the frustration out of her until her brain is mush and she’s not able to remember why she was mad in the first place.
My daydream about fucking her hard is running vivid in my head; I must have missed that she asked, “What is your name?” She asks again, “So, you aren’t going to tell me what your name is?”
“Sorry, I was deep in thought.” About her sweet pussy, but she doesn't need to know that. “Hi, I am Drew?” I turn to her and stick out my hand to meet her formally with a handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Drew.”
“Here we are, down these steps, Mickey’s Pub,” I direct by pointing my hand in front to let her enter as I hold the door open for her. She stops just inside to adjust her eyes and waits for me to indicate the direction to go. “Let’s grab a table over here, toward the back.”
“Lead the way.” She follows, but we are stopped before we make it to our table by Tyler and Reed, two of my friends and who I work with. They are great guys, but I’m on a mission to find out a little more about the woman patiently waiting behind me.
“Drew, hey, man. What’s up?” Reed questions, lifting his chin to signal the girl in tow.
“Hey, guys, not much. We are just grabbing a drink. It’s good to see you. We’ll talk later.” All of their questions about why I brought a woman into our sacred hang out location are cut off as I move us forward. Trying to do the gentleman thing, I slide a chair out and offer it to her. When she sits, I push it slightly back in and then sit myself on the other side. That earns me a questionable look. “What? I am trying to redeem myself from my jerkish ways.”
She laughs out loud, and I’m mesmerized to the sound. I like this lite side of her. “Oh, is that what you are doing?” And there’s that fiery side again.
“Yes, ma’am. I have obviously offended you, and I am truly sorry.” I carry on the conversation by asking, “So, you know my name. What’s yours?”
She’s looking all around taking in the pub, but when I ask her, she turns back to me and looks straight in my eyes with dominance firing from her crystal blues. “Avery, Avery Little.” Well, Avery Little, I want to set that dominance streak straight and show you who is the boss in my bed.
3
Avery
“How do you know those guys? Wasn’t that Tyler Beckett, the quarterback of the Texas Tornados?” I question in a loud whisper.
“Yeah, I work with them,” he responds shortly with a shrug.
“Oh.” My brow raises, silently asking him to elaborate with just a look.
He chuckles and holds his hands up again in the air. “That is Tyler, and the other is Reed Anderson. Then that’s Zane Blakeman walking in right now. Reed is a wide receiver, and Zane is a defensive end for the Texas Tornados. I am Drew Elliott, a wide receiver also.”
Yeah, now it all makes sense. Smug and cocky attitude, being a self-righteous prick thinking he owns the parking lot. Great, I should have just left him at the store. This is exactly what I walked away from earlier today, and here I am again. Drink this drink, then I am out of here.
A beautiful brunette bounces up to our table. “Hi, Drew and ma’am. What can I get you to start with?”
Drew refers to me to answer first. Oh, how nice of him. Trying to be sweet. “I’ll take your house red wine, please.”
“I’ll take the special that’s on tap. Thanks, Peyton.” She walks off to fix our drinks, and we sit in silence a little while.
“Well, you guys seem comfortable here. Is this y’all’s hideaway?”
“Actually, yes. You see Peyton over there, she’s a force to be reckoned with. She scared the media away by using that shot gun hanging up there a couple of years ago, and we’ve been coming here ever since. I heard that a few more paparazzi have tried to come in, but she won’t have any of it. She always sends them running out with fear on their faces. Her dad owns the place, and she takes care of us like we’re all her little brothers.” He chuckles at that and continues, “Avery Little, tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to tell. I’m from Dallas, grew up here.”
“And what do you do for a living?”
“I have a personal shopper business that I started about five years ago. So, are you going through off season? How does the summertime work for you?” I reply and change the subject quickly, not wanting to divulge any more personal information.
“We have a few weeks off and will begin training camp around mid-July. We still have to work out, at least lightly, nearly every day to stay in shape, or we’ll die at the beginning of camp. I did that once when I was a rookie and vowed never to do it again.” He shakes his head at the bad memory.
Peyton brings our drinks, and I try to keep the conversation on him. I’m sure he loves to talk about himself, so it won’t be too difficult. “How long have you played for the Tornados?” He stares at me for a while in silence. I think he’s contemplating whether to answer my question or not.
“Oh, no, it’s your turn. Tell me something else about you,” he counters. Hmm, what can I tell him that doesn’t get too personal?
“I have a cat named Pepper.” There, that should work.
“So, you’re a cat lady.” Maybe I will just chug this glass of wine to get the conversation over with.
“What is that supposed to mean?” His hands immediately go up in surrender again.
“Nothing, I didn’t mean it to be bad. I like cats. His name is Pepper. Is he black?”
“He is black with white paws.” My tone softens a little thinking about Pepper. I’ve had him since college. It’s good to have something that loves you to come home to. “Now, it’s your turn. How long have you played for the Dallas team?”
“I’ve played here for four years. I moved from Seattle. The
weather is a hell of a lot better too. Wasn’t a fan of that much rain.” He chuckles and takes a sip of his beer, and I follow with my wine.
Every move of mine is being watched by his bright curious eyes. It’s like he wants to say something but is holding back. “What is it, Drew? Just spit it out,” I encourage him.
“You have the most beautiful eyes, Avery. They’re crystal blue.” His eyes are boring into mine for a good while, and then he finally looks down and starts picking at the napkin on the table. I urged him on to say what he was thinking, but I really didn’t want it to be that. I think his compliment is my cue to go.
“Thank you, Drew, for the drink. I’ve got to head out and get back to my shopping.” I stand and grab my purse from the back of the chair.
He rises with me. “Well, alright then. Thank you for having a drink with me, I hope we are even now, and all my penances have been served.”
A chuckle escapes me while I shake my head. Yeah, he may have apologized, but I’m not sold on the fact that he’s not the jerk that he proved to be earlier at the store. “All is good, Drew. Have a good night,” I say as I walk to the entrance and leave.
The journey back to my car is like walking in a fog, as I’m lost in thought about my drink with Drew. His body is so hot, I would love to see what it would feel like to be under him, but his attitude has me thrown off. I don’t care to be around people who think they are better than everyone else just because of their wealth.
