Interception: (Love for the Game Book 2)

by Remi Grey

  “It’s okay. It’s Auntie Tarryn.”

  I opened the door, and sure enough, there she was — wearing pajamas and clutching a large bag.

  “What?” I cocked my head in confusion. She was supposed to be working on some high-profile client, at least that’s what Ian had said. He seemed too pissed to divulge any more information than that.

  “Where’s your high-profile client?” I asked.

  "I'm looking at her." Tarryn brushed past us and waved at us to follow her towards the guest bathroom, where she placed her bag down.

  "I don't understand." I looked from Tarryn to Lily, who were both smiling at me.

  “We have 30 minutes to do that hair of yours. I’ll explain as I go.” Tarryn instructed me to kneel in front of the floor-length mirror. She plugged in a curling iron and extracted a small container of bobby pins.

  “Tarryn is here to make you a princess.” Lily put her hand on my shoulder as she stood next to me. We were the same height now.

  I gave Lily a quick hug before Tarryn instructed her to go play with toys in her room so the grownups could talk. I almost didn’t want her to go. I hadn’t been alone with Tarryn since our interview, and she made me nervous.

  “So, I know my brother better than anyone else, and I know that in the years since Hillary has died, he's never so much looked at another girl." Tarry dived right in the second Lily left the room.

  “He’s dated though, hasn’t he?” I asked. Of course, he had, even though I now worked for him, I was once that girl who did read tabloids, and he was the center of many of them.

  “Yes. But he never really saw them if you get what I’m saying?”

  I didn’t get what she was saying, at all, but thankfully she was about to explain.

  "He was with them for a show, out of boredom, out of something to get out of his own personal headspace. But with you, he seems to really see you and actually care about you. You should hear the things-”

  "He talks about me?" I cut her off. If it weren't for the fact that I received a persistent paycheck, I would have thought that I dreamt this whole fairytale. But it was real because he had told someone else – his sister.

  “Of course, he does. He actually called me a few days ago because he saw you dusting off the family pictures in the living room. He saw you get to the last one, remove the back of the frame, and carefully straighten the picture of Hillary that was crooked inside. My brother is a hardened shell now after what happened. Nothing has broken him since that, but when he saw you do that -- it broke him in the best way possible. In a compelling way.”

  I didn't know what to say, and thankfully she had instructed me to put my head down, so she didn't have to see the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes. Fuck, I had just done my makeup too.

  "Now, look. Anyone who can make my brother feel something again is something we can't let go of. So, this is me looking out for my brother."

  I nodded. For the first time in a long time, I was utterly lost for words.

  Chapter 9

  Ian

  "Ian, does this one belongs to you?" My teammate, Isaiah Robinson's voice, came from behind me. I spun around, and there Jenna was, and I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open as I took in her appearance.

  I had seen a picture of her dress when she sent it to me to make sure it was appropriate for the gala, but never did I imagine that it would look like this on her. The satin material accentuated every curve of her body. I locked eyes with her as to not let my eyes wander any lower to the plunging neckline that I knew was there. Isaiah, my teammate, was staring at her, but he could get away with that.

  “She does belong to me," I said sternly, hoping Isaiah would get the hint to stop looking at her like that. I extended my arm for Jenna to take. She hesitated only slightly before linking her arm around mine, her fingertips gently resting on my bicep.

  “You look beautiful.” I couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

  “Thank you.” She blushed as she looked away. “Thank you for bringing-”

  "Ian Jackson." A voice called somewhere through the crowd. The hall at the annual SABB, Standing Against Bully Behavior gala, was practically packed to the brim, and it took me a while to realize who was calling to me this time.

  It was Gary Pillard, The Communication Manager for SABB.

  “Could I grab a quick interview before we begin?”

  "Sure," I told him as I turned towards Jenna. "Will you be okay for a moment while I get this done?”

  “Oh.” She unlinked her arm from mine and looked slightly nervous. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

  "Come find me if anything happens," I told her, and I meant it. I followed Gary over to where several news photographers were waiting, their cameras set up on tripods, and their facial expressions looking somewhat bored. I answered several questions about the mission of the gala and even one about my take on Sunday night’s game.

  When I was done, it took me several minutes to fight through the crowd to get back to Jenna. She was the only one sitting at our table, sipping champagne out of a flute. I studied her having been given the luxury of not being seen by her just yet. It appeared she was taking everything in.

  “Hi.” She brightened as I approached. I took a seat next to her.

  “Enjoying yourself?” I asked as I nodded towards her champagne and plate of hors d'oeuvres.

  "Oh my gosh." She laughed. "They kept bringing food over, and I didn't know how to politely decline. Now I have more shrimp than I know what to do with. Want one?"

  "No, thank you." I laughed as she handed me the plate. I put it back down on the table.

  “Well, hello there. What’s happening over here?” I instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Vicki Powers. She was the only person I knew who had a deep, scratchy voice that somehow managed to still end in a high-pitched squeak. She was a tabloid journalist, one who really had been dragging all of my life choices through the mud since the day I was picked up in the NFL draft.

  "Vicki," I said definitively, hoping she would get the hint that she wasn't welcome here. She didn't get the hint. She snapped a picture, and I wanted nothing more than to shove her stupid camera out of the way.

  "Vicki," I said again, this time in a warning tone. "We're not here for a story. We're here for a gala on bullying. You're doing the opposite."

  “I’m not bullying anyone.” Her bright red lips pulled back into a half sneer and a half-smile. "People are invested in this and in what the emcee of the event is doing. People want to see your new lady."

  “She’s not my new lady.” This was the last thing I planned on saying, especially to Vicki of all people. "She's solely here as a favor, so sniff somewhere else for a story."

  This was exactly why I wanted to bring Tarryn to avoid any mess.

  “Sure.” Vicki snapped one more picture as poor Jenna sat there frozen. Her hand clutched tightly around her glass until Vicki finally moved on. She headed over to the next table to see what she could sniff up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as the lights began to flash, the warning sign that we were set to start. I had to go.

  Jenna nodded, which I wasn't sure if it was her answering my question or telling me it was okay to go. Either way, I made it to the stage and checked my teeth in the mirror all before the scheduled start time.

  "Thank you, everyone, for being here today," I said as tables of participants stared up at me, and yet still through it all, my eyes scanned for Jenna, but she had gotten up. She probably ran to the bathroom or to get more champagne. Lord knows, she needed it.

  I shuffled through my notecards as I read my speech. Although I was fairly comfortable with public speaking, I always felt better when I had something to go off of. When it came to sports, I could talk all day, but more personal things took more out of me than anything else.

  “I’m honored to be today’s emcee for a cause that we all care so passionately about. I’m sure you look around this room, and you see people like me on TV,
on your radios, and more. We’re not above bullying. None of us. We're not people who have never known the pain of being put down and picked on. We've overcome that, but unfortunately — not everyone can say the same. That's why we're here today."

  A few people clapped as I again scanned my eyes back towards the bar, hoping to find Jenna, but she was nowhere to be found. When I wrapped up my speech, I jetted off stage the second the first presenters stepped on. I had 10 minutes until I had to be back. Jenna wasn’t in the main room, or in the hallways, or even near the bathroom. I felt bad. She didn’t want to be here. I knew she didn’t want to be. I forced her to come out of her comfort zone, and I wasn’t even able to spend more than a few minutes with her.

  I poked my head onto the patio, and she wasn't hard to miss. She was leaning against the wall, and it sounded like she was sniffling.

  "Hey," I said softly as I approached her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She said, avoiding my gaze. “I just want to go home.”

  “I’m sorry. I never should have brought you here.”

  “I figured that much.” She sniffled again. “That Vicki is a real piece of work.”

  “Vicki.” I narrowed my eyes. “What did she say to you?”

  "Oh, I don't know. Something about how I was a charity case and how that felt. It’s like she knew I don’t fit in which I don-”

  "Stop." I took a step closer towards her so that I was right in front of her. Her eyes were red. I don't know what came over me, but I raised a thumb and brushed a trace of mascara off.

  “You belong here,” I said.

  “I don’t.” She gestured at her dress. “This isn’t me. None of this is me. I’m literally hired to fit into a world I don’t belong in.”

  I knew she wanted to run from that world, but I was blocking her, each of my arms on both sides of her against the wall as she stared me down. She tried to push my arm away, but I wasn’t going to let her leave. Not this time.

  “You belong here.” I lowered my arms and leaned down, closer than ever before, so she could see that I meant it. What I didn't mean for was my lips finding hers, somewhere in the middle of a gala.

  “And that’s because you belong with me," I said once I finally pulled away from her lips.

  Chapter 10

  Jenna

  "God. Do you even know what you do to me in that dress?" Ian's breath was hot in my ear and on my neck, which caused what little hair I had left covering my body to stand up.

  Plus, one for Jenna! I thought as I remembered my impromptu wax, which only happened because I thought there was a .00008th chance that this could happen, so I did it.

  We were back in his hotel room he had rented out for the night. Everything was happening so fast. My head was spinning. We went from a kiss at the gala to stealing glances for the rest of the night. All happening up until it was time to leave. I had never wanted someone so much, and now we were here. I was in a state of euphoric shock.

  While standing so close together enjoying each other's sweet kisses, Ian ran his hands down the sides of my dress until he cupped my ass. I knew he would go for it; I had caught him staring at it before. I gave a small moan as his fingers explored through the thin fabric. I couldn't help myself. Ian Jackson, the quarterback for the Oricon Twisters, wanted me of all people. I wasn't a supermodel, and there was nothing special about me. Or so I thought. Ian told me differently as he whispered in my ear.

  Our lips found each other once more, and our tongues became intertwined until I was backed up against the wall.

  Ian’s body, which was all muscle, was pushed up against me so that I could feel every part of his body, especially his hard cock pushing against me. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. I let my hands wander to the bulge wishing to be released. I rubbed through the fabric of his tight pants, teasing him lightly as he deepened our kiss.

  “Oh. You wanna play games?” His hands found the zipper on the back of my dress, fumbling slightly due to the wine and champagne we had at dinner. I didn’t mind the liquid courage, however. In fact, I needed it. This was all so uncharacteristically me and yet with Ian — I felt bold. I felt different. For the first time in a long time, I felt needed. It gave me the confidence to step out of my dress. I let it fall to the floor as I stood in front of him. His eyes were hungry, and I let him take in every curve of my body as I bent over to remove my heels.

  “No.” His voice was a low growl. “Leave them on.”

  I straightened up and locked my eyes with his deep green ones where something seemed to stir under the surface of them. They were like rough pieces of sea glass. Not yet smoothed over by the waves of the ocean.

  “Come here.” He pulled me into him, his strong arms wrapped tightly around my body so that I couldn’t get away even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to; however, something had stirred within me. My whole body ached for him as we once again fell into a deep kiss.

  I felt the need to move quickly as if someone were holding a pin to a balloon, and this could all be over in a minute. As if Ian could remember it was me, his nanny, and not some supermodel-like that Gia girl he had been tied with. I needed to show him that I was worthy. I took charge, not even believing the control I had at this moment. I pushed him down onto the bed, where he sat perched on the edge.

  I lowered his black slacks and boxers, which had done little to contain him down. God, he was huge, and I resisted the urge to moan again as I left a trail of kisses from his lips all the way down to his hard cock, which I quickly took into my mouth as I fell to my knees.

  A low hiss escaped his lips as his head fell backward — he wasn't expecting that, and honestly, neither was I. He groaned as he wrapped his fingers through my curls, messing up the hard work Tarryn had done for me. Did she have any idea that by pairing us together tonight, we’d end up fucking in a hotel room?

  Ian held onto me tightly as my mouth found a rhythm, which was a torturous tease for both of us.

  “Wait a second.” He stopped me after a few minutes.

  I looked up at him worried for a moment, wondering if this was all too good to be true. Did he realize I wasn’t a model?

  He scooted towards the headboard and patted the bed next to him for me to lie down. I got off my knees and obliged, lying flat on my stomach near him. I could practically hear his heartbeat.

  "Your ass is amazing." He gave me a hard smack, and I let out a groan as once again, my lips took him back into my mouth. I knew why he wanted me to lay down — he wanted to play too. His hands, rough and calloused from years of gym and football, felt absolutely perfect to me as they rubbed every inch of my body. Eventually finding their way into my wet pussy, which was throbbing for him. I needed the roughness of his hands.

  I instantly let out a scream of pleasure, and my body responded, my ass lifting towards his hand with each stroke he made.

  "Oh, fuck, Ian." I groaned again. He responded by slapping my ass hard once more. "I can't focus with you doing that." Instead of my mouth, which wouldn't stop moaning, I used my hands to stroke him as I attempted to bury my moans into his abs.

  “Ian? I thought I was Mr. Jackson.” He teased me, reminding me of all the times our first week when I was too nervous to call him Ian.

  “Sorry, Mr. Jackson.” I struggled to correct myself. Each word I said had turned into long-drawn-out moans.

  Ian was teasing me, and I wanted more of him in every way.

  He got up, stepped out of bed, and pulled me backward by my ankles until I was dangling over the edge of the bed. My heels barely brushing the top of the carpeted floor.

  He once again ran his hands down my body, massaging my ass as he leaned over me, closer now than ever before. His breath was warm in my ear as he entered me, filling every inch of me.

  "Oh, God, Ian," I screamed out in shock as I dug my fingers into the sheets.

  He kissed my neck as he fell into a pattern of slow and long strokes. My body craved him like a drug, and I tried pushing back, showing him, I
wanted more of him. This was getting to be too much, and I thought I was going to burst.

  “Patient.” He laughed. I loved the way his soft laugh tickled my neck.

  “You’re mean.” I groaned as I let my head fall into a pillow in defeat. My hair had come down completely, flying out in every which way.

  “What’d you say?” He grabbed a fistful of it and pulled me up from the pillow before he rammed his cock into me, hard this time.

  “I said you’re mean,” the last word came out in a scream as he did it again.

  “Wanna call me mean again?” His voice hardened as he continued thrusting into me harder with each stroke.