We both jump away from the kiss as the first boom from the fireworks sounds. He doesn’t smile or even wink. The Travis standing before me, the one playing with a tendril of my hair, has a subdued look on his face. Yet his eyes yield an urgency that I haven’t seen before.
I reach up on my tippy-toes until my lips are perfectly angled with his ear. “I think I’m ready to call it a night,” I tell him, hoping that he understands what I’m saying. I’m going to go for it, put both feet in the water as they say, and be his wife. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, and I think he’s done a stand-up job trying to prove himself today.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod, slipping my hand into his.
“What about the fireworks?” He motions toward the harbor and the lighted sky. Fireworks are my favorite, and maybe he knows this, but I can wait to watch them in July.
“We can make our own.”
“Fuck yeah, we will,” he says. “Hey, guys, we’re out—wedding-night duties are calling.”
The guys high-five while my already rosy cheeks turn even redder. I didn’t expect him to blurt it out to everyone. I manage to hug Ainsley and Daisy before Travis pulls me away from them and into the celebratory crowd. People try to stop him, but none are successful until we’re in the elevator and the gentleman we’re riding with proceeds to go on and on about the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series and how the Renegades have once again let him down.
My hand caresses Travis’s back while he stands there taking every word from this drunken man. Our only saving grace is that our floor is closer to the top. Travis bids him well as he steps off, and once the doors are closed, Travis flips him off.
“Stupid fucker,” he mumbles as he has a stare-down with the closed doors. “Sorry, babe.”
“Don’t be,” I tell him. I’ve heard it all before, people giving me shit because my clients are underperforming. It’s the nature of the beast.
Travis places his arm around me, and I sag against him as we make our way to our room. The few minutes we’ve been inside has allowed the cold to subside. I still shiver, though, when his fingers brush under my shawl and against my bare arms.
He pulls out the key card to our room and pauses. “I meant what I said today, Saylor. Every word.”
“Me too.” I squeal as he picks me up, swinging me into his arms. “Travis, let me down.”
“Nope,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m carrying my bride over the threshold.” He manages to open the door without dropping me, and he safely gets me through the doorway without a bump.
“Oh, Travis.” My eyes water from the scene before me. Candles are lit throughout our suite, and rose petals line the walkway to our bedroom. He sets me down gently and removes my shawl in the process. “This is beautiful.”
“So are you.” His lips press against my bare shoulder while his fingers nimbly pull the zipper down on my dress, letting the capped sleeves fall down my arms. I move slightly, allowing my gown to settle on the floor.
“I take that back,” he says as he comes around to stand in front of me, his hand never leaving my body. Each touch causes more and more goose bumps to rise. “You’re fucking gorgeous and all mine.” He picks me up again, this time in a straddle, and carries me through the bedroom and into the bathroom.
“We have a bed, ya know.” I point to the wall, but he doesn’t say anything. He proceeds to undress and motions for me to do the same.
“Since the first time we were together, I’ve dreamed of fucking you in the shower, and honestly, I’m afraid that I’m going to wake up in the morning and you’ll be gone.”
“So our first time as a married couple will be in the shower?” I take off my bra and add it to his pile of clothes.
He nods and slips his fingers into the sides of my panties. “You’ll always remember this moment, Saylor, each time you take a shower. We’ll have plenty of time to fuck in a bed later.”
“Okay,” I whisper, placing my hands on his shoulders so he can slip off my underwear and shoes. He leaves me standing in the middle of the bathroom, returning only after he’s set the water to the right temperature.
“Come along, wife.” He pulls me behind him and opens the door to the shower. “After you,” he says, swatting my ass as I walk by. I yelp, and he chuckles deeply. I manage to pull the pins out of my hair before standing underneath the water.
“Fucking fantasy coming true.” Travis turns me to face him, but I stay under the showerhead. He bends and laps at the water that is falling off my breasts until he decides he’s quenched his thirst and takes one nipple into his mouth while his fingers pinch and massage the other. “Exquisite,” he says, switching to the other side.
I’m doing all I can to keep my knees from buckling. Reaching between us, I grab ahold of him, and he gasps. It’s the best feeling, knowing that I make Travis Kidd hard. And that he chose me to give his name to. His mouth crashes down on mine, and our tongues tangle for dominance as he backs me up against the shower wall.
“I had this whole foreplay scenario played out in my head, but fuck it. I need to be inside of you now.”
“Okay,” I say breathlessly as his fingers delve between my legs. When his thumb presses down on my bud, my knees finally give way. His strong arm wraps around my waist, holding me up.
“Do I need a condom, Saylor?”
“I’m on the pill,” I tell him.
He steps back, halting the intimacy building between us. “That’s not why I’m asking. If you want a baby, I’ll plant seeds every fucking day until you’re pregnant. I’m asking because I need to know if you trust me.”
I look deep into his eyes and see a hint of pain that lingers from the rape accusation. “I trust you, Travis. I trust you with everything.”
In one swift motion, we’re kissing, and my legs are being wrapped around his waist. He pulls away and sets one hand above me and the other on my hip. “I can’t believe you’re my fucking wife. How’d I get so lucky?”
His thrusts start out slow and build momentum with each kiss, bite, and pull I add to his body. My response is to open my mouth while my eyes roll back in my head. When I tug on his hair, he groans and bites my shoulder while pushing deeper into my center.
Our bodies move together as the water from the shower coats our skin. He moves us from the wall to the glass door, where he asks me to lock my ankles. My head falls back, and my shoulders move up and down the glass as he buries himself within me.
For every moan I emit, he matches, turning me on even more. I bask in the knowledge that I’m now the only one who will ever hear him like this, to see him come undone from pure pleasure from this day forward. He is mine.
My hips buck, meeting every advance, as Travis grips the top of the glass door, keeping us from falling. The heels of my feet push into his ass, urging him to bring us to the brink as warmth starts to seep through my belly. I reach for him and look into his eyes. I open my mouth to tell him that I’m close, but his lips capture mine as he swallows each cry I have throughout my orgasm.
He holds me in place, pushing in and out of me with a slower pace. Gently, he unhooks my legs and keeps his hands on my waist until I’ve regained my balance.
Travis shuts off the water and cups my face in his large hand. “Race you.”
“To what?” I ask, slightly confused.
“To be the first one to fall in love.” He winks, sending my heart into a frenzy.
Thirty-Seven
Travis
“Your Honor, with all due respect, the state needs more time to build the case against Mr. Kidd,” the assistant district attorney says, which causes Irvin to mumble under his breath.
“They’ve had weeks, Your Honor, including an arrest where the police failed to conduct a proper investigation,” Irvin says as he stands up.
“The complexity of the case is—”
“The complexity of the case?” Irvin starts to pace the courtroom floor. “My client is being accused of rape and assault.
A rape kit was performed on the night in question, and I have yet to see the results. The victim has since accused my client of battering her, but my office has yet to see the pictures of these wounds. Do I need to go on, Your Honor? Because at this point, I think the state is harassing my client.”
He’s damn right they are. My endorsement deal with Nike is barely hanging on, and I plan to sue the state for the money I’ve lost with Under Armour.
“It’s my understanding that Mr. Kidd has a witness to the night in question?” the judge asks.
“Saylor Blackwell-Kidd,” Irvin states. I find myself smiling because this is the first time since we’ve been married that someone else has called her by her new last name. Granted, it’s only been a few days, but still, I do like hearing it.
“And her relation to the defendant?”
“She’s his wife,” Irvin states.
“And she was there at the time of the incident?”
“Yes, and they started dating shortly thereafter and were married on the thirty-first.”
“Very well; bring her in,” the judge says, requesting Saylor’s presence.
The guard that is stationed at the back of the courtroom opens the door and motions for her to enter. From the moment she steps in, my eyes are on her, taking in every inch of her body that I have had the privilege of getting to know. Repeatedly, I might add. And thanks to her mother and my parents, they’ve kept Lucy occupied for the past few days so our honeymoon could extend to every room, surface, and available space inside my house. I have no doubt the reporters outside are getting a nice dose of her screaming out my name.
Saylor’s dressed in a black skirt that hugs the contour of her hips and a red blouse, likely paying homage to the Renegades. Yesterday, we spent hours listing the pros and cons of staying in Boston and continuing my career. For every con I gave her, she came back with multiple pros, beating me at my own game. On paper, the reasons to stay are perfect, but in my heart, I’m not sure it’s going to be enough. She says the fans will come around after today’s hearing and subsequent press statement from Irvin. Her faith in me has been unwavering from the start, and I can’t thank her enough.
She winks at me as she passes by the table. I watch the sway of her hips as she prepares to take the stand.
“Please raise your right hand,” the court bailiff instructs. “Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth under pains and penalties of perjury?”
“I do,” she says, taking a seat.
“Ms. Blackwell-Kidd, where were you on the night in question?” Irvin asks. Earlier this morning we rehearsed everything he would ask Saylor, even though the judge might find it a bit damaging to me. It’s my hope that her testimony is enough to get this case thrown out, and I can move on with my life.
“I was at the bar on Langdon Street.”
“Was Mr. Kidd there?”
“He was,” she says.
“Was he alone?”
Saylor shakes her head. “No; he was with a woman. They were playing a game of pool.”
“Did you observe Mr. Kidd with this woman?”
“I did, briefly.”
“Why?” Irvin asks.
She sighs, and by the slight movement of her arm, I’m guessing she’s playing with her rings. I caught her staring at them the other day, holding her hand out so the sunlight would hit her diamond perfectly and cast prisms onto the ceiling.
“Because he’s my client, and because I had residual feelings for him stemming from an encounter we shared years prior.”
“Would you say that you were jealous of this other woman?”
“In a way, yes.”
“Please explain,” Irvin instructs.
“Well, due to the nature of my previous job, being with Mr. Kidd wasn’t possible. I was jealous of the freedom she had with him.”
“And what did you do about it?”
“I left the bar.”
“Is that the only reason you left?”
Saylor looks down at her hands and takes a deep breath. This is the part of the testimony she wanted to avoid, but Irvin told us that she’d look more credible if he was asking her the tough questions and leaving nothing for the ADA to discredit her on.
“I’m on probation and not allowed in bars.”
“But you were, on this night in question.”
“Yes, I was.”
She looks at me, and I offer her the most genuine smile I can. When we’re done here, I’m going to take her home and fuck the memories of today away. I know how hard this has been on her, how much stress she has endured. I also know I haven’t made it easy, and she questioned my motives when I asked her to marry me. Each day, I’m finding new ways to prove to her that I want to be bound to her.
“What happened after you left the bar?”
“Travis…Mr. Kidd followed me out.”
“Was this the first time he spoke to you?”
Saylor shakes her head again. “No; he came up to me earlier when I first arrived.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He asked me why I was at the bar. I assure you, our exchange was anything but pleasant.”
“And when he followed you outside?”
“He asked me if I needed a ride home.”
“Did you take him up on the offer?” Irvin asks her.
“No, I did not. I hailed a cab. I needed to get out of there because the woman that he had been with inside was starting to throw a fit.”
“What happened next?”
Saylor sighs again before saying, “When the taxi pulled up, I got in but wasn’t fast enough. Travis followed me. I opted to get out, and before he could react, the cab was pulling away.”
“What else do you remember from that night?”
“The woman,” she says. “She threatened him. Said, ‘Fuck you, Travis Kidd. You’ll pay for this.’”
“Did you see Travis return to the bar?”
“No, I didn’t. I watched the woman get into a car and leave. Then I walked toward the direction of the taxi, but I never saw it double back.”
“Thank you. No further questions.” I look over at the ADA, and he looks frustrated. Part of me had hoped that he would bring Rachel Ward in to provide testimony, but Irvin said it would be a long shot.
“Does the state want to cross-examine?” the judge asks. The ADA rises but shakes his head.
“The state is moving to drop all charges against Travis Kidd,” he says as he flips the top of his file folder closed. He looks pissed, but I don’t fucking care.
“Smart move by the state,” the judge says. He turns to face me. “Mr. Kidd, you are free to go. Good luck next season. I’ll be rooting for ya!” The slam of the gavel has me up and out of my seat, racing toward Saylor. She’s in my arms with my lips pressed to hers in no time.
“I’m fucking free,” I say in between kisses.
“Yes, you are. Now let’s go tell everyone else.” She takes my hand and leads me out of the courtroom and into a small conference room where she and Irvin start talking strategy. I pull out my phone and text the guys, along with my parents and Norma, to turn on the news.
“You two kids have fun with the press. I’m going to go file our case against the state, and one against Rachel Ward as well for falsifying accusations. She could’ve ruined your career,” Irvin says as he pats me on the shoulder.
I want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t come out before he’s out of the room. Saylor slides her hand into mine and squeezes.
“He’s right, ya know,” Saylor says. “What the DA did is wrong. He didn’t have a case against you, and he let it drag on for far too long. We have a lot of damage control to take care of, so if Irvin can recoup your lost expenses, it’s for the best.”
I kiss her hard, not wanting to let go of her. “This is why you’re my agent.”
“And publicist.”
“And wife,” I point out.
“And sex slave?”
That is where I draw the line. “You can’t be a sex slave if you’re begging for it, babe.” I swat her on the ass as she walks out the door and back into the hallway. Once we get outside, the reporters are lining up. She called ahead and told them to be ready.
“Today, we finally have some answers,” she says into the microphone. “Mr. Kidd has been cleared of any and all wrongdoing. I repeat: He will not face any changes stemming from the false rape and assault claims brought by the state. I’ll take questions now,” she says.
I thought I would speak today, but she’s saving my story for ESPN, in a promised deal that she made.
“Is it true that you were a key witness?” a reporter asks.
“I was a witness,” Saylor answers.
“What about the rumors that Kidd is being traded?”
“Those are unfounded. Kidd and the Renegades have been in constant contact since the night in question, and his position with the team is safe.” This is where she and I differ.
Saylor points to another reporter, who asks, “When will we see pictures from your wedding?”
I butt in and say, “Soon,” causing her to push me out of the way.
“Will Kidd seek damages from the state?”
“Yes, he will,” she says. “These untruths have hurt my client financially. He’s lost endorsement deals that will be hard to get back. If a proper investigation had been done by the state prior to accusing and questioning my client, we would not be here right now.”
She looks back at me and smiles.
“If there are no further questions, I want to thank you for all the support you have shown Travis. He loves the city of Boston and is determined to bring home another pennant for you all. Your support of him means a great deal. Thank you.”
Grand Slam Page 25
