Thousand Yard Bride

by Nora Flite

  With that, he drained his glass, stood up, and walked away.

  I slumped in my chair and watched him leave. I hadn't been ready for him to exit so fast. Was he pissed at me? Did he not care, had he just been toying with me to see what I'd do?

  And would I ever be able to erase those white-hot memories?

  The airplane trip back to the New York airport was nothing short of awkward. Hunter was able to act like his usual self, but I was a bag of nerves. I decided that my best bet was to pretend to be asleep during the flight. However, I didn't realize how tired I really was, so I ended up zonking out as soon as we took off. I woke up to Hunter gently shaking my shoulder.

  “Jo,” he said. “We’re back in New York. There’s a car here to take you back up to New Haven.” I was slow to wake up. For a split second after I opened my eyes and saw Hunter looking at me, I thought we were still in bed in Los Angeles. I smiled. Then I woke up fully and shot up out of my seat.

  “You slept the entire plane ride,” he said with a grin. “You must have needed it. Did I really wear you out that much?”

  Burning red, I stood and stumbled down the aisle. I was normally so calm, but this man was finding each vulnerable crack I had and hitting it with a sledgehammer. If Hunter’s behavior was any indication of his ability to pretend last night had never happened, I had a hell of a lot more work ahead of me than I’d imagined.

  The fresh air outside the plane was a relief. Hunter hadn't lied, there was a car waiting for me. I felt his presence behind me, his shadow clinging to my back and slowing me down. It took all of my effort to push forward and into the car, forcing myself not to glance over my shoulder in case Hunter's amber eyes were watching me.

  On the ride back to New Haven, I texted Lanie to meet me near my apartment. I needed to tell her about everything that had happened. I also needed more hangover food, so I asked that she meet me at Pizza Land. When I arrived twenty minutes later, I was delighted to see my sister already sitting inside.

  Even better was the huge pizza on the table waiting for me.

  Lanie's attention went out the window to the town car I'd pulled up in. “Fancy ride, sis,” she said, greeting me with a hug.

  “Perks of the job. Is that an extra cheese and red pepper?”

  “With pineapple,” she confirmed.

  My mouth watered, the smell tackling me and making me drop into a chair. “You are the literal best, Lanie,” I said as I grabbed a slice.

  “I know, I know. So, why the urgent need for pizza?”

  Lifting a hand, I took two mouthfuls, chewed, then sighed. “I have to tell you something crazy. And you might yell at me."

  For a moment, she just stared at me. Then a huge grin broke across her face. “Holy shit, Jo, you slept with him!"

  I dropped the pizza crust, freezing under her joyful glee. "How did you know?"

  "Because I'm your sister! Also, it's written on your face. That's a "I just had sex" face. How did it happen? Details!”

  Puffing air through my lips, I propped my head on my fist. Was I really so obvious? I hoped not, or my plan to hide what I'd done would be a waste. “Well,” I started, taking a sip of water. “There were a few factors: booze, obviously. Plus I’m an idiot. Oh, and he’s really, really hot. Really hot. He’s actually kind of sweet, too, beneath the macho guy act.”

  Lanie beamed at me. “I’m proud of you, sis. How was he?”

  "Lanie," I scolded her.

  "Please," she snorted. "You're going to tell me. Just get to it."

  Squinting at her, like I could set her on fire, I eventually slumped in my seat and grabbed more pizza. “Honestly? It was the best sex of my life, but I also might have made the biggest mistake of my career. This wasn’t just unprofessional, it was totally unethical. My reputation is shot if this gets out. More than it already is, I mean. And that’s if I don’t get fired first.”

  “I highly doubt that will happen. Also, nobody’s going to think you’re morally depraved because you slept with the sexiest man alive. What does hunky football star dreamboat have to say about everything?”

  I dug into the pizza and gave myself a minute to think it all through again. “Not really sure, to be honest. He seems to think it’s no big deal.”

  “It isn’t! It’s just sex, Jo. Sex is fun, it’s good! Just talk to him and make sure you’re on the same page about all the work stuff. It’ll be fine,” she added, shaking red pepper flakes over her slice.

  I figured that her advice was as good as any. Lanie had a history of what could have been awkward hookups, yet she always managed to emerge from her affairs just fine. She even stayed friends with her one-night stands.

  Sitting there with a full belly that I still stuffed more pizza into, I calmed myself with the fact that she had to be right. Everything would work out. I was due for some good karma.

  I'd decided to take a page from Lanie’s playbook and level with Hunter. I'd tried to call him the next day, but all I'd gotten was his voicemail. Frustrated, I sent him a quick text that said:

  I want to get together. I'll be at Sportsfire, meet me there before two.

  I figured if he came to my office at SportsFire I could kill two birds with one stone. My new bosses would see that I was diligently working with my client, and I could also talk to Hunter in a neutral, professional environment. Plus, I had an office with a door, so no one could eavesdrop or accidentally overhear us.

  He never texted me back, and as two turned into three, I was starting to wonder if something had happened to him. My nerves prickled, imagining he was out doing terrible stuff that I wasn't preventing. Would the next time I saw him be on the news?

  The SportsFire receptionist Gabrielle knocked on my door before entering. “Mr. Daniels to see you, Jo,” she said, a little extra purr in her voice.

  Oh, thank goodness. Hunter swung into the room, his legs clad in form-fitting torn jeans. The receptionist checked his ass out as she turned to leave. I couldn't blame her.

  “Fancy office, P.R. lady,” Hunter said as he sat down, putting his feet up on my desk. “I like it.” I wanted to be annoyed, but his boyish enthusiasm was kind of endearing.

  “Thank you, and thanks for coming in." Even if you never confirmed the meeting and showed up after I asked you to. I didn't say that. "I just wanted to meet with you and discuss the LA situation, make sure we’re all squared away."

  Smokey humor rolled over his tongue. “I thought we already did that over quinoa at The Standard?”

  “We did,” I said. “But we still need to . . . I just need to be absolutely sure that this will stay between the two of us.”

  Crossing his legs, he waved the tip of his shoe side to side. “Jo, listen. You seem really cool, and I had fun the other night. I won’t tell anyone, because you asked, but I can’t pretend it never happened. Can you honestly say you can?"

  I went to answer, then I caught myself. In my lap, my fists clenched. I was glad he couldn't see from where he was. "It has to be a secret."

  "And it will be. Our little dirty secret." His laugh ran into my veins, and when he grinned, I imagined his teeth on my skin.

  “You’re sure?” I asked, finding it hard to believe it could be this easy.

  “How about we pinky swear?” he said, holding up his pinky finger.

  I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Come on, pinky swear, Jo. It will make you feel better.” Hunter got up from his chair and leaned over my desk, offering me his hand. When I extended mine, I noticed how small it looked next to his.

  This is the same hand that was burying two fingers inside of me, I realized, startling myself. My pussy twitched sympathetically.

  He whispered, "Something wrong?"

  Shaking myself free of the filthy images, I put my pinky finger around his. "I'm fine. Let's do this." It was ridiculous, but when he squeezed, shaking my hand and forming a knot between us, I flushed with delight.

  Hunter’s hand l
ingered over mine before he pulled it away and headed for the door. “Anything else?” he asked, his hand on the knob.

  “No,” I said, torn between being relieved he was leaving, and aching for him to remain close by. “Take care, we'll talk soon.”

  Hunter opened the door, stepped into the hall, then turned to lay his serious eyes back on me. “But, Jo?”

  Leaning forward, I listened to my blood thumping. “Yeah?”

  “Just because I won’t tell anyone, doesn't mean I won’t think about it. Often.” He winked, lifting his hand and deliberately crooking two fingers at me. It was a subtle but obscene gesture, a silent reminder that he knew what he could do to me—and so did I.

  Then he shut the door behind him, leaving me alone in my office with his lingering minty smell. It took me right back to that long night in Hunter’s hotel room. It was looking like I, too, would have a hard time not thinking about what we'd done.

  5

  Hunter

  It had been two weeks since the night that little P.R. agent had driven me wild. Normally by the next day I had no trouble forgetting a hook up. If anything, I had trouble remembering them.

  For some reason, I couldn’t shake Jo.

  I hadn’t had a night with a woman like that since . . . well, since my ex, Poppy. I'd gone out of my way to compare Jo against the long list of girls I’d been with since the breakup. It seemed liked the easiest way to find some flaw in her—something someone else had done better.

  Jo was different. I couldn't get her out of my head. When I thought of her, I longed to have her to myself for just another few minutes. How could I mesh with her so perfectly in bed, but clash in real life? She'd been dynamite in my arms, a pure explosion of wet heat and carnal bliss. Then in the morning, she'd gone back to being Ms. Stick Up Her Ass.

  When she'd called me to her office at SportsFire, I'd gone straight back to wondering what she wanted from me. Had she given up on calling it quits? Was it some not so subtle booty call?

  Nope. Not at all.

  Jo had sat me down and lectured me, and all the while, I couldn't help but think about taking her right there on her desk, palms spread out on the paperwork while I pumped into her hard and deep from behind. It was all I could do to stay focused on our conversation.

  With other women, once I’d slept with them, I didn't really feel much of anything. Jo stuck with me for some strange reason. I couldn’t say that I minded it. What I did mind was that she made it clear that sex was off limits for us from now on. I wondered if I could change her mind.

  So I was happy when Jo said that she was coming to watch me practice. She'd said she was bringing along some photographer for some action shots. I guess it was meant to "help my image" or something, but I was already planning to use it as a chance to show off for her. No woman who’d ever come to watch me at practice could resist me afterward.

  That was a fact.

  It felt good to head to the stadium. I loved working out in the weight room with my buddies. Plus, post-draft rookie camp was coming up, so Reese, Jam, Benny and I were expected to be there and show the new guys how it's done. Mostly though, I wanted Jo to see me in my element.

  I longed to see the look in her eye when she watched me catch a pass and run it into the end zone. I knew what I could do on the field, and I knew my fans had a name for it: The Legs Spread Show Down.

  I had every intention to keep our night in LA a secret. But it was fair game to make her rethink a round two.

  As soon as I entered the locker room, I heard my teammates’ loud voices.

  “Hunter Daniels Junior! Look who finally decided to show up,” Benny said as he pulled on his workout shirt.

  Reese winked at me, slamming his locker shut. “Congrats, Mr. Croc-Cooler. That was a hell of a party.”

  His praise made me swell up. “Thanks, man."

  “How did things with P.R. Jo go?” Reese asked.

  Jam, ever immature, chimed in, “That chick is hot!”

  “Are you gonna tap that, Hunt?" Benny asked. "If not, can I? Pretty please! She seemed like an uptight bitch, and they always fuck the best."

  I bristled at his comment. It didn't matter if he was right—Jo did fuck like a pro—but I'd already started to think of her as mine. Important to me. It was hard to shrug off such casual insults in her direction, even if they came from a total douchebag. “Is this the League, or are we back in high school, man?” I shot back.

  Benny glowed like a stop light. His sneer split open, ready to hurl an insult at me, but Reese interjected first. “Jo and I had a nice conversation at The Standard. In shocking news, it turns out that she’s an actual human being. So, I don’t think she’s your type, Benny"

  The other player flipped us both off. Jam patted him on the back consolingly.

  Reese turned toward me, noting my grin before I could hide it. He was sharp; I'd have to be careful if I wanted to keep Jo and I a secret. He said, “She seems like a professional. She know what she’s doing, Hunter?”

  An image of her naked body twisted around mine flashed through my brain. “She’s very good at what she does.” I remembered to add, “Let’s all be gentlemen today when she comes to photograph the warmups. Maybe even keep the language slightly more civilized than usual.” For emphasis, I added, “Assholes.”

  Benny snorted, his lip curling. “Since when are we gentlemen? We're fucking kings! And you’re right, we are assholes, but we’re irresistible assholes. Just ask this chick from last night.” He pulled out his phone to show us a picture of a stacked blonde.

  It was the kind of thing I'd normally have laughed at. I might have even asked for the girl's number. There was a sourness in my stomach, a confusion I didn't like one damn bit. “She’s definitely hot, man,” I said as convincingly as I could.

  “Fuck yeah, she is! She wants to be a Hawks cheerleader. Wouldn’t it be nice to have that piece of ass bouncing up and down on every sideline? I know it’d be nice to have her around for this.” He pointed to his crotch, as he had a tendency to do far too often. I couldn't help but laugh along with the other guys.

  Reese said, “You’re lucky we allowed you in the Kings Club, brother. Remember, we gotta have Hunter’s back so he doesn’t lose his contracts and all his lovely buckets of money.”

  “Fuck that," Benny laughed. "I have my own money to worry about. Not all of us can have family money like Richie Rich.” Heat prickled up my neck as he kept talking. “You don’t even have to play ball. You could just sit at home and have your housekeeper bring you drinks on a tray and be A-OK.”

  There was a lump at the base of my spine, an iron spurred ball that grew with his every word. My voice was amazingly calm. “Careful. You of all people need me on this team.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, rich boy?” Benny said, getting up in my face.

  Those words slid off his tongue like oil. Rich boy. I hadn't asked to be born into the Daniels' lifestyle. People acted like it made my achievements worthless.

  My knuckles turned white. I was sorely tempted to punch Benny in his smug face—was he trying to start a fight? With me? He had balls and no brains.

  Reese stepped in between us. “You still want to keep chartering the Daniels' superyacht to Europe in the off-season, right? Don’t mess with the money man’s stream of dinero, Benny.”

  “Well put,” I said, fondly remembering the time we'd all gone to the Mediterranean. Women in Greece look like actual goddesses and taste like heaven. Jo tasted better, that insufferable voice whispered to me.

  Benny held his head high, staring down his nose at me. With a loud sniff, he turned away, letting the tension evaporate so we could finish putting on our gear. Good call, I thought, eyeing the back of his head and imagining giving it a good strong elbow-drop.

  Coach Bauer came into the locker room, yelling at us in his drill sergeant-style. “You boys better get out there in less than five seconds or you'll be running laps until tomorrow morning. Move!”

&nbs
p; The guy was great at strategy, but a total asshole when it came down to it. You could have an injury or a family emergency and he'd still show you no sympathy. He treated us like we were machines. I appreciated his winning record, but deep down I didn't have much respect for him. He reminded me too much of my dad.

  I retied my laces and then checked my appearance in the mirror. It isn’t about Jo, I tried convincing myself. I just want to be sure I look presentable for the photographers.

  It had been a while since I’d been on the Hawks’ turf. I missed everything about the field when I was in the off-season. I even missed the funky smell of the sweat-covered equipment.

  The rows of empty stadium seats unnerved me. I knew that in a few months they’d be filled with fans in crimson shirts shouting encouragement. Now, though, it was like a huge graveyard. I missed the energy of the fans—it motivated me like nothing else.

  We hit the field and started running plays with the new guys who had just been drafted. Since the Kings were the experienced players, we wanted to show the rookies what the Hawks were all about.

  Reese and I had a good system going. We had each other’s backs as wingmen when we went out on the town, and on the field we understood each other. It’s what got us to the playoffs last year.

  He signaled for me to go long, so I sprinted as fast as I could before turning around right where I knew the ball would arc toward me. Reese’s pass was coming in hot, so I ran backwards, rushing to catch it.

  Someone shouted, “Watch out!”

  My eyes were still glued to the ball as I stepped an inch out of bounds and crashed into something that gave way and sent me flying ass over teakettle. Careening out of control, my eyes rattled in my skull long after I'd stopped moving.

  I was flat on my back staring straight into the sky. “What the fuck?” I groaned, struggling to get up as a camera flash went off in my eyes. I threw up an arm and looked away, blinded by the pop of white. Blinking over and over, my focus returned.