by Sosie Frost
That meant I had to be careful. I needed to get in and out of his house before those warm little tingles transformed into full on enchantment.
I knocked on his door, fully expecting him to ignore my arrival. I’d prepared to set up camp on the porch for the afternoon. I’d even swiped a folding chair from the office and packed myself enough of a lunch to get me through early evening. I only hoped I’d break him before I lost an entire day off that I might’ve spent with my daughter.
To my surprise—the door opened. Cole wasn’t happy to see me, but at least he was fully clothed.
“I’m not in the mood today, beautiful.” His stare hardened as I hauled the mobile living room into his foyer. “Haven’t we played enough of this game already?”
“Not yet.” I snapped my fingers. “What’s it called when the coach changes the plan at halftime? I’ve made…”
“Adjustments.”
I grinned. He didn’t. “I made adjustments to my strategy.”
With a grand flourish, I unfolded my chair, rested my thermos and lunchbox on the floor, and sat.
“So, Mr. Hawthorne. Have you thought any more about your potential career opportunities?”
Cole pointed to the door—still wide-open and poised to slam in my face.
“Get out.”
I didn’t move. Instead, I met his storybook blue eyes and aimed my most chastising glance at the big bully.
“I warned you I’d be back,” I said. “This time I came prepared. You won’t need to worry about me going hungry tonight.”
“That’ll be a goddamned relief. Especially when you’re eating dinner in your own fucking house.”
“And here I thought we’d spend a nice afternoon together.”
“In case you haven’t noticed…” Cole gestured over his estate—completely isolated and silent. “I’m a bit of a loner. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“It’s an awful lot of space to go empty.”
“What’s your point?”
I took a chance, trying to open him up. “Where’s your family?”
Cole didn’t like that question. His jaw clenched so hard I worried he’d crack teeth. “Dead and buried. Look around. What you see is what remains of them.”
Oh. So that explained the estate. “But you don’t have anyone to share it with?”
“Why? Thinking of invading my bed too?”
“It’s called small-talk, Casanova.”
“It’s called trespassing, beautiful.”
“You’re awfully grumpy.” I ignored his piercing stare, pinning me in the chair. I pulled a book from my bag, licked my finger, and flipped through the pages. “Rough day?”
So far, The Beast was all growl and no bite. He paced the entry way with a fierce scowl.
“Tomorrow is this little thing called game day,” he said.
“Yep.”
“I’ve gotta suit up and face my own goddamned mortality against a division rival.”
“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem for the league defensive MVP three years running, right?”
“The game will be on national television. With a sold-out home stadium of one hundred thousand vicious Monarch fans gunning for blood.”
I didn’t glance up from my book though I hadn’t read a single word. “I think I have something in my planner about the game.”
“Son of a—”
“Aren’t you ready for the season?”
Cole’s baritone threatened and rumbled in all the right places. “I would be if I could get one night to myself without you breaking into my house!”
“I figured we’d keep each other company.”
Cole swore. He stormed to his den only to return thirty seconds later. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”
I flipped the book’s page. “Yes, but…the life of an agent. We’re always on call, I’m afraid.”
“This is fucked up, even for Maddy to organize.” Cole ran a hand through his pony tail. The hair band ripped out, and his mane wove over his shoulders. “A woman like you should have something planned for a Saturday night.”
I did. Patty-cake. Laundry. Nap time. That was the most fun. “I thought we disliked small-talk?”
“I swear to God—”
“Mr. Hawthorne, I told you. I’ll leave when you agree to be traded. You know how to get rid of me.”
“Damn right I do.”
Cole loomed over me.
I wasn’t ready for this possibility. I should have been, honestly. But nothing in my life had prepared me for the moment a living, breathing, hunk of colossus double my size decided to pick me up like a sack of flour. I yelped, but Cole hauled me over his shoulder and aimed for the door.
“I’m not used to having guests in my house,” he said. “This might be considered rude.”
I kicked, slapping his back with a shocked hand. Jesus, it was high up here. No wonder Rose always wanted me to carry her.
“Put me down.” I didn’t bother yelling. I wouldn’t give the behemoth the satisfaction. “This is completely inappropriate.”
“Then you definitely won’t like this.”
His hand connected with my ass.
And it stung!
The slap echoed in the foyer, and I shrieked over his shoulder.
Did he just…spank me?
“Oh, you are in a world of trouble!” I wiggled. It was useless. A second playful swipe struck my behind, and I let out a frustrated squeal. “Don’t you dare, Mr. Hawthorne!”
“Don’t do what?” He frowned. “This?”
A third smack. I bit my lip before I made a good sound.
Enough was enough, especially since the sting warmed into a fuzzy tingle that spread a series of shivers where they didn’t belong. I clutched his shoulders to stay upright.
Oh, God. He was all muscle.
I swallowed. “Put me down right now.”
“Right away, Your Highness.”
Cole manhandled me over his shoulder and swung me into his arms. I ended up cradled against his chest.
My instinct was to cross my arms behind his neck, tickle my fingers through his blonde hair, and pray for my three wishes to come true.
First wish: A kiss.
Second wish: A lot less clothes.
Third wish: A night of passion so raw and fierce and dirty I couldn’t even ask a genie for it.
But I learned long ago to ignore those feelings.
“Let me go,” I said.
“Not until you agree to do as I say.”
Like hell. I aimed for his pecs and made my attack. All the muscle in the world couldn’t protect his nipple from a twist.
“Jesus!”
Cole dropped me. I landed on my feet, but I threatened him with a thumb and forefinger poised for another pinch.
“Just try me, Mr. Hawthorne.”
Cole rubbed a hand over his chest, massaging his hurt pride. “You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood.”
“This is a good mood?”
“Tomorrow I’m suiting up and playing for the Monarchs. I plan to stay there all season.”
“That’s not going to work for me.”
“Tough.”
Cole stormed back to my belongings and tossed me my purse. My hand-eye coordination was limited to putting on eyeliner, and I batted the bag away before it struck me.
Which of course, Cole thought was hilarious.
So funny, in fact, he also softball pitched my lunch box to me. I reached for it, but it banged off my fingers and clattered at my feet.
Cole wrestled with my chair next. Fortunately, he didn’t throw it. He grappled with the arms and twisted the plastic material. The metal squeaked, but Cole was in too much of a hurry to close it properly by the little latch on the side.
I rolled my eyes. “Give it to me—”
“—I got it—”
“—You’re going to break it.”
Cole grunted, shoving the legs as I hit the latch. The chair snapped together before he could
remove his hand.
Now was probably a good time to leave.
“Son of a bitch!” Cole shook his fingers. The profanity didn’t stop. “This goddamned, mother fu—”
Uh-oh. I maimed one of my father’s biggest clients less than twenty-four hours before the season opener.
A linebacker didn’t need his hands. Did he?
“I’ll…get you some ice,” I said.
I ducked inside the mansion as Cole kicked the chair and launched it halfway into the rose garden.
“I’m fine.” He gritted his teeth and followed me inside. “Just fucking go before you set fire to the house or strangle me in my sleep or whatever your master plan is.”
I raced to the kitchen and stole an icepack from the freezer. I managed to wrap it in a towel before Cole gripped my wrist, shaking the ice from my hand.
“What are you trying to do to me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Are you like…systematically searching for my weaknesses?”
“I…I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“There’s easier ways of making me break.”
He didn’t release my hand. Instead he stepped toward me, every stomp of his feet a warning for me to try my luck another day.
I edged backwards, my breath catching as I found myself pinned between a linebacker and a wall, without a way to rush through either.
Cole’s voice twisted into a whisper. “Do you want to bring me to my knees?”
“I…” I wished I hadn’t stared into those royal eyes—a perfect and solemn blue. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
But now it was all I could think of.
This huge, hulking man...
On his knees before me.
But he was so big that even kneeling would put him at eye-level with me. I wished the thought hadn’t warmed my body, clenched me in places that hadn’t felt any heat in two years, since before I got pregnant.
This was too dangerous.
If Cole was in pain, he didn’t show it. Whatever rage in him channeled into something new, something far more threatening and…
Exciting.
I stared at his face and the hard line of his jaw. His arching cheekbones and stern brow made him look so severe, so animalistic. His arms pinned me against the wall, each hand on either side of me.
His biceps twitched, and I shivered. Even his forearms were muscular. Thick and clenching and a lovely shade of sun-kissed tan that complimented the chocolate tone of my skin.
“You’re trying to intimidate me,” I whispered. “To make me leave.”
“Is it working?”
“I know a lot of people are afraid of you. I’m not.”
Cole smirked. “I do love naivety.”
“I’m only trying to help you.”
“And I’m trying to forget what a perfectly spankable ass you have.”
I stared at his lips, at the sharp canines that peeked from his grin. I shouldn’t have imagined his bite, but a man like Cole Hawthorne probably didn’t kiss.
Did he?
“I should go,” I said.
“You should’ve left a long time ago, beautiful.”
“Live and learn.”
“Then I have a lot to teach you.”
He was so hot. Every inch of his body radiated an impossible heat. Worse, my skin warmed with his. If I wasn’t careful, I’d melt under his stare, so near his touch, with the threat of his voice…
“Let me go.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to be released. “You know this isn’t right—”
“When have I ever behaved?”
I didn’t have time to react before Cole kissed me.
It wasn’t a fairy tale fantasy of swelling music and gentle musings. He devoured me, lust-crazed and dominating in all the best and worst and most thrilling ways I had never been kissed. I had no idea what to do, how to hold him, if I wanted to make him stop.
I parted my lips in sheer instinct and gave myself to this man. This beast. He crushed my mouth in a fierce and possessive bite. My back struck the wall, but Cole’s arms trapped me more. His huge hands seized my wrists, and, within moments, my arms were over my head, my chest presented to him.
It should have terrified me.
Instead, my tongue flicked against his as I twisted in his hold.
Cole growled, deep and frustrated. He leaned into me a little too hard, squeezing the air from my body. I gasped his name, and he chuckled as my groan passed between our lips.
The heat burned through us, igniting everything I’d tried to ignore inside me. It had been so long since I let myself feel anything beyond a passing curiosity for any man. I came alive in an instant.
I needed more of him. Masculine. Strong. Demanding.
He kissed me as desperately as I kissed him. The unwelcomed, delicious sensations shocked my skin and sizzled all the way to my core.
I burned molten—my heart, my rationality, even the last ounce of strength that kept me standing.
Everything sane inside me shredded against his kiss. He held me, a towering and frightening monster of a man who might have lifted and broken me in a single conquering thrust.
And my body ached for it. I longed to be kissed and give my kiss. To be touched and taken and wanted and delighted by the sheer power the man who desired me.
And that was the reason I had to stop it.
I fought my instincts and cobbled together the fraying bits of my willpower. I couldn’t surrender to these moments of weakness, not when I finally salvaged my life after what became of my last indiscretion. My desires weren’t important anymore.
I had to protect myself for Rose’s sake.
I pulled away. Cole released me from his kiss but not his grip. I stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked.
I didn’t recognize the sexy huskiness in my voice. “I should go…”
Cole shuddered, staring at my lips. “But you haven’t convinced me to be traded yet.”
I’d be lucky if I remembered my agency’s name after a kiss like that, let alone any of the talking points I’d memorized.
Then again, he didn’t care what I had to say. Cole wanted me to convince him with my body.
And God, it sounded like the best possible way to solve our problems.
“Mr. Hawthorne…”
“I think we’re beyond formality now, beautiful.”
He was right. I couldn’t pretend to be polite when my mind drowned in the foresty scent of him.
I met his gaze—that fable blue darkening into a Once Upon A Time I fought to deny.
“Cole, I have to go.” I shook my wrists free. “We shouldn’t…”
My breathing edged from lusty invitation to the beginnings of panic. Cole shifted away, running a hand through his hair. I longed to feel that thick arm wrapping me up again.
What was the matter with me?
I tripped over my own feet as I slid from the kitchen. Cole followed, his stare more intimidating now that I knew what thoughts simmered behind it.
“Just…forget this happened.” My lips still hummed for his kiss. “And…good luck tomorrow. Sorry I almost sliced off your hand. I hope that doesn’t…cause you problems at the game.”
“Don’t even feel it anymore.”
I slammed the door behind me so hard I feared the glass windows would shatter.
I had no idea when I’d catch my breath or how I’d ease that throbbing ache inside me, but at least I was safe, far away from Cole Hawthorne and those dangerous lips.
It didn’t matter what happened with the trade. Dad could fire me or I could quit. I preferred to lose my job over accidentally surrendering to one foolish night with the wrong man.
Again.
I learned my lesson once. It wasn’t happening again.
One thing was clear—I couldn’t represent Cole Hawthorne anymore.
No matter how much I ached for one night with a prince trapped as a beast.
6
Cole
We didn’t just win our season opener. I humiliated
the offense. Demolished their line. Stuffed their runners. Terrified their quarterback.
And I accidentally hurt one player—but that was the game. Everyone took risks suiting up. And now the league had reason to respect The Beast.
Most men liked to play with a chip on their shoulder. A little antagonism boosted a good player to great, and a great player to…
Me.
Arrogance didn’t become me, but I’d earned it. No one could touch me during Sunday’s win, but now I craved the hands of a much better opponent.
I expected her any minute. Left the note on the front door to cross through the house and join me out back, near the patio, pool, and hot tub.
And she obeyed me.
Brave little beauty.
Piper arrived later in the afternoon than I expected. Had the kiss been that bad?
Maybe it had been that good.
I relaxed in my hot tub, watching as Piper stared in awe at the mansion’s patio and wild grounds. The salt-water pool twisted and bubbled within the natural landscape, bordered with soft stones and intricate marble. The decadence mimicked the same luxury found in eighteenth century France.
Piper was distracted by the gardens. The roses bloomed now. I wasn’t sure why I liked them so much, but after my father died, I’d rebuilt the entirety of the garden.
One thing on the estate deserved to be beautiful.
“Thought you gave up on me,” I said.
Piper’s eyebrow arched as she realized I wasn’t wearing swim trunks. She swallowed and stared at the gardens instead.
“I have a job to do, Mr. Hawthorne…but I thought about not coming today.”
“What a coincidence…” I grinned. “I can’t stop thinking about you coming.”
Piper teetered between insulted and flattered. “Win one game and suddenly you’re a gridiron god?”
“I’m always available for some worship.”
“Tempting, but I think that hot tub’s gone and poached your brain.”
“There’s room for one more.”
“I prefer to conduct my business dry and clothed, thank you very much.”
