Leona had always liked Uncle Gray, Drea’s fun uncle. He’d been the one who took them out on the boats or out hiking when they were little. When they were in high school, he’d helped them sneak out a time or two and even helped Drea by resetting some clocks so that her other two uncles would never know she broke curfew. Even now as a boss he was fun and relaxed, the complete opposite of the always serious Vaughn.
“Hey, Uncle Gray,” she greeted him. “Josef is apparently having the time of his life, so I’m glad to hear he’s doing well. He’s still so much smaller than all the other kids his age, though, so we do kinda worry about him.”
“He’ll grow into himself, I’m sure of it,” Grayson said as his phone started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at the screen, and then said, “If you’ll excuse me, I gotta take this.” He answered the phone as he walked away.
Leona and Cullen both just nodded as Grayson stepped away. Once he was fully out of sight, she turned to Cullen and glared at him.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” she growled.
Leona stood only a couple of feet in front of him, and Cullen could feel the anger radiating off of her. He wasn’t sure if this was more of the same from earlier this afternoon or if this was a new wave. Either way, the look on her face told him she was not joking around.
The last time he had seen this look from her was the day after he’d pulled her into the tub in La Isla Bonita. He’d woken up in a fabulous mood—after all, incredible sex with a beautiful woman would do that to a man. Incredible sex he’d been hoping to repeat until he found her missing and his bathroom cleaned up. Bothered only slightly by the blood-tinged sheets and the lingering question of her virginity, he’d made his way to breakfast, where his world came to a halt as two of the Quinlan brothers took the opportunity to brag on the young lady they were obviously very fond of.
“Has everything been okay with Leona’s taking care of your room?” Vaughn had asked.
“Yes, she’s done a lovely job. How long has she worked here?” Cullen asked, glad for the chance to do some research on the little thing who had rocked his world the night before.
“Oh, not long, couple of years,” Vaughn answered.
“But she’s been around the resort for forever,” Grayson added in. “She’s Drea’s best friend. They met in kindergarten and have been two peas in a pod since. We’ve watched her grow up.”
“Drea’s best friend?” he clarified, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. “I thought your niece was a teenager. So she’s still in high school?”
“Yeah, Drea just turned seventeen a couple of weeks ago, which is a little hard for us to swallow. They’ll start their senior year here shortly. Makes me feel kind of old,” Vaughn laughed.
Cullen’s head spun as the brothers continued to talk about the girls and how Leona had really taken to working at the resort and that she was a guest favorite. He could feel his chest getting tighter the more he thought about how she was just seventeen, eleven years younger than he was. All morning long he’d been thinking about how if he’d known she was a virgin he would have done things differently. But now, now that he realized she was underage, all he could think about was how if he’d known that, he wouldn’t have done things at all.
He’d liked her too. Not just on a physical level either. They’d had fun together the night before, laughing and playing around between rounds. He had been thinking of inviting her back tonight, eating room service, maybe taking another bubble bath, but for sure not getting a wink of sleep on his last night here. But now…now things had to change. It didn’t matter how much he wanted a repeat of last night. It could never happen. It was as if Vaughn’s words had flipped a switch inside him. He had to keep her at arm's length, even if it meant breaking his own rule of not being a jackass.
Returning to La Isla Bonita after breakfast, he knew what he had to do when he saw her next. He had to get rid of her. Not that she struck him as the clingy type, or even the type who thought there was more to the night than just sex, but he didn’t need it getting out that he’d slept with the staff at the resort. The underage staff.
He tried to invent things for himself to go do to get away from the resort for the day, but nothing seemed to strike his fancy. When he heard the slight knock on the door and the call of “housekeeping!”, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to escape that easily. So he put on his game face and did the only thing he could think of—headed to his back porch. A while later, thinking she was gone, he went back inside only to find her walking through the front door again.
“Leona,” he said, caught off guard that she was still here.
“Hi,” she said, nervously biting her bottom lip. “I need to get you fresh towels.” She scampered out the front door to the cart waiting out there.
“Menina,” he said, strengthening his resolve against her as she walked back into the room with some fresh towels. She looked so damn cute—he needed to be stronger.
“Nope, still Leona,” she corrected him, a little unsure of why he’d suddenly used a different name. She knew he knew it, since he’d called it out a couple of times the night before. She put the towels in the bathroom and then walked back over to where he was standing.
“Anything else, sir?” she asked self-consciously.
“Menina,” he repeated. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed an American twenty-dollar bill from inside. He held the cash out to her, watching the smile fall from her face, but she simply shook her head at the offer and started back toward the front door. “Leona!” he said roughly, using her real name again to catch her attention.
She turned around slowly. He walked up to her, till there were only inches between them. He wanted to kiss her again so badly but knew that would not result in anything good. So instead, he continued on his original plan. He grabbed her hand and shoved the bill into it.
“Thanks for your assistance in making sure all my needs were met. I’ll make sure that I note that all my requests were met with…exceptional enthusiasm…on my customer satisfaction survey.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he felt the contact of her hand to his face. He deserved that. Her spunk was part of what he had liked about her all week, and even now, as he stood here insulting her, she was letting it shine through. No part of her had hesitated, and man did she have a swing on her. He lifted his hand to his face, holding it over the spot where her open palm had met his cheek. Pulling away, he noticed a little spot of blood on his fingertip. One of her nails must have caught him just right. She simply glared at him, fighting the tears that he knew were forming behind her eyes. She crumpled the bill and let it fall at his feet before turning and storming away.
That same look appeared on her face now, just without the tears, as she stood before him, backlit by the bonfire. He knew that he deserved the look, both then and now, and he desperately wanted to apologize. The only look he wanted to see on her face again was the one she made as her orgasm rolled through her body and made her lose control.
“Menina,” he said carefully, keeping his voice even, but cold.
“You didn’t believe me when I told you that he’s my brother? You had to go ask the uncles? My bosses?!” she hissed out at him, stomping her foot to show her rage.
“I believed you, Menina. It just also came up at dinner, not that my dinner conversations are any of your business.”
“My family isn’t any of your business either,” she shot back.
“It would have been if he shared my DNA.”
“But he doesn’t. So stay away from him. And stay away from me.”
Cullen stood, putting down his cigar and glass of scotch. He towered over her, but she was so damn sexy all he wanted to do was pick her up and nail her to the wall with his dick. The fire inside her was pouring out at that moment and only made her that much sexier. He had no idea what exactly was running through that sassy mind of hers, but he liked the idea of pushing her buttons even more.
“And what
if I don’t want to do either of those things?” he asked, stepping closer, closing the gap between them.
She stood her ground, trying to make herself taller, which really only resulted in her pushing her beautiful breasts out farther. She swallowed hard. “Stay the fuck away from me, Cruz.”
“No, Menina, I won’t,” he responded, stepping even closer, so there was almost no gap between them now. He could hear her breath catch as he did so, which made his heart speed up even more. Maybe she did still want him. “Here’s what I think. I think you want me. Under all that piss and vinegar, what you really want is another ride,” he whispered into her ear.
Her breath hitched slightly, betraying the scowl on her face. Regaining her composure just as quick as she’d let it slip, she growled, “Not a chance.”
“Really?” he whispered again, skeptical of her answer.
“Really.”
He reached out and put his hand on her waist. Before she could pull away, he yanked her into him, hard. Her soft curves smashed into his hard chest, making them both catch their breath. He felt her body shiver in his arms and saw her eyes darken with desire, just as a bolt of lust ran through his own body. Before he could stop himself, he reached down and scooped her up by her ass. She let out a little gasp, which he quickly silenced by covering her mouth with his.
She tasted sweet, just like he remembered. Her soft lips felt like heaven against his and, in this moment, for the life of him he couldn’t remember why he hadn’t done this years ago. Her body was stiff in his arms, as if she were fighting an internal battle on whether or not to resist. She fisted her hands in his shirt, as if she couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to push him away or pull him in closer. Helping her make the decision, he pulled her in even tighter. As much as she tried to hide it, he knew she wanted this—wanted him. He’d seen the flame of desire in her eyes.
After a moment, the initial shock wore off, and she slid her arms around his neck, returning his kiss fully. It was like something had ignited the flame inside her and she poured all her passion and anger into her efforts. Her tongue met his and it was like fireworks went off in his body. He couldn’t remember the last time something as simple as a kiss had felt this good. Maybe never. His left hand dipped to squeeze her butt cheek, causing her to whimper and moan in excitement. This only fueled him on more—kissing her harder, deeper, wanting even more of her.
When he finally pulled away, it took him a moment to open his eyes, afraid that he might see regret in hers. But it wasn’t regret that was shining back at him—it was a mix of surprise and longing. And it made him want to kiss her again.
She unhooked her arms from his neck, sliding back down his body. When her feet met the ground, she lifted her hand to her lips, slowly running her fingers across them, in disbelief at what had just happened. She looked back up at him, but only for a second before turning and running away.
Chapter Eight
After another productive day at camp, Cullen reached into his duffle bag and dug out his mobile phone, not sure exactly what he was hoping to see. That was a lie—there was a long list of things he’d hoped to find waiting for him, not the least of which was some kind of message from Leona regarding the events of last night. He had no idea what had been going through his mind, or well, how he let his dick take over his brain and commandeer all rational thought.
But damn, had that kiss been good. Better than good. That kiss had been…something else. He couldn’t quite put the words to it, but it had left him momentarily off-kilter. The feel of her lips, the taste of her tongue, the swell of her breasts against him—all of it threw him for a loop, even now, almost an entire day later. She’d even started to kiss him back there for a moment. He continued to let his mind wander to Leona and if she was still reeling from it a day later as well. He wondered if she was unable to stop thinking about him in the same way he was unable to stop thinking about her.
Turning his focus back to his phone, he found a text from Oliver:
Oliver: Got something, potentially. Call me.
Now this was exciting. He’d given up hopes that it was Liverpool calling to say they wanted him back; they’d been all over social media introducing his replacement these past couple of days. But at this point, he’d entertain pretty much anywhere. He’d never had much interest in playing in Spain or France, but both leagues were top-notch and had some fantastic players. Hell, even the Dutch league could be fun at this point. While the back of the town car was fairly soundproof with the partition up, he still waited until he was back at La Isla Bonita to call Oliver back, stepping out on the patio to sit in a lounge chair and enjoy the sea breeze.
“Cullen,” Oliver answered the phone, ignoring the more traditional greeting.
“Just calling you like you asked,” he said, taking a swig of the beer he’d grabbed out of the mini fridge.
“How’s camp going?”
“Good. Interesting mix of kids. Definitely some legitimate talent. Turns out, I’m actually enjoying it more than I thought,” he admitted.
“Now that I am very glad to hear,” Oliver said, drawing out the word “very.”
“Why?” Cullen asked skeptically.
“Turns out there is a team that is interested in you,” Oliver told him coyly.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, in Atlanta,” he offered.
“Atlanta…” Cullen repeated, trailing off at the end of the word.
“Yes, it’s in the state of Georgia, the southeastern part of the United States.”
“I know where Atlanta is. They hosted the Olympics.”
“Ah, yes, that they did,” Oliver responded. “Well, they are starting a team there.”
“In Atlanta?” Cullen said. “The American league? You want to send me to play in the retirement league?”
“About that…” Oliver trailed off.
“What are you not telling me, Oliver?”
“They aren’t interested in you as a player,” he paused. “They want you to be their coach.”
Cullen paused, beer bottle halfway to his lips. Coach? They wanted him to coach? Well, wasn’t that a kick in the nuts. Even the American league didn’t think he was good enough to play anymore.
“Cullen, hear me out,” Oliver started. “It’s a damn good offer. I know it’s not playing like you had been hoping, but you are thirty-eight, almost thirty-nine. You’ve had a better run than most. You were going to have to retire at some point. I think you should seriously consider this.”
Bringing the beer bottle to his lips again, he chugged the remaining half. Coach. They wanted him as the fucking coach. What did he know about coaching a team? Sure, he’d spent years as captain, guiding players on the pitch, reading the game to try and anticipate moves, but that wasn’t the same as actually coaching. He was a player. He belonged on the pitch, not standing next to the bench with a sweater tied around his shoulders.
“Cullen, are you there?” Oliver asked after the extended pause.
“Yup, still here,” he answered, swallowing hard.
“Look, I know it’s a lot to think about, and I know it’s not what you had been hoping for, but seriously, I think it could be an excellent career move. Oh, and the compensation is more than decent.”
Cullen didn’t care about money; he certainly didn’t need more. In fact, he could probably take the job as a volunteer and still have more than enough to live stupidly comfortable for the rest of his life. He might have grown up poor, with his mother working two jobs to make ends meet, but all that had changed at the age of nineteen when he signed his first major football contract. Unlike most kids in that situation, he’d been smart about his money and invested most of it. Of course, there had been a series of major purchases along the way—a flat for his mother, as well as an account that had money funneled into it every month so she could quit those jobs she had been slaving away at, and another flat for himself, because a man with his money wasn’t going to be living with mum. Furniture for those flats, a
fancy car for each of them, as well as some other miscellaneous frivolities had rounded out the shopping spree. Other than some charitable giving each year, the vast majority of the money made from his player salary and his endorsements was all invested in some way or another.
“You know I don’t care about the money,” he told Oliver.
“Indeed, but nonetheless,” Oliver said, brushing off Cullen’s comment. “I’ll send the offer over for you to take a look at. No major rush, but they would like an answer in the next couple of weeks.”
Cullen hung up with his agent and rested the phone on his thigh as he slid down the lounger a bit. His brain was firing a thousand thoughts a minute trying to wrap itself around everything Oliver just said.
Atlanta.
New team.
Coaching.
All of it was making his head swim, or maybe that was just the beer he’d chugged so quickly. Coaching professionally was never something that had been on his radar—hell, coaching on a volunteer level had never been either. Oliver had been the one to come up with the idea of the skills clinic in the first place, not him. The thought occurred to him that maybe this offer wasn’t recent news to Oliver, that maybe it was why he had cooked up the idea of the skills clinic. But Oliver was a rules follower, and would never even think to pull something like that. He would never dream of lying to Cullen; it was part of why Cullen had stuck with him all these years.
So maybe the man did have a point. Maybe the coaching thing was something to consider. He was enjoying this camp. Teaching the kids skills and running through drills with them had been fun. But this job would be professional players, not kids. These guys would have a style of play already and wouldn’t be looking to change that just because some former player told them to. It wasn’t like he’d have a team full of kids like Josef hanging on his every word, trying to soak up his “words of wisdom” like a sponge.
Caught Up In You (Indigo Royal Resort Book 2) Page 7
