PASS INTERFERENCE
Gods of the Gridiron: Book 3
Shanna Swenson
Contents
FOREWORD
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
SNEAK PEEK AT ILLEGAL FORMATION
AFTERWORD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY SHANNA SWENSON
ABOUT SHANNA SWENSON
PASS INTERFERENCE
Shanna Swenson
PASS INTERFERENCE is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, businesses, companies, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Shanna Swenson
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7329626-7-5
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems or other electronic or mechanical means, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names, such as the NFL and its teams, used within this book are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publisher nor the book are associated with any products or vendors mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within have endorsed this book. The Atlanta Gladiators are a fictitious football team used for entertainment purposes only.
www.shannaswenson.com
For permission requests, write to the author at [email protected]
Edited by Jennifer Soucy
ebook design by: OliviaProDesign
Gods of the Gridiron logo designed by:
Books and Moods Designs
For my baby sister, Katie
There is no one like a sister
And I thank God everyday that you are mine
POSEIDON- GOD OF THE SEAS
"Hear, Poseidon, ruler of the sea profound, whose liquid grasp begirds the solid ground; who, at the bottom of the stormy main, dark and deep-bosomed holdest they watery reign. Thy awful hand the brazen trident bears, and sea's utmost bound thy will reveres.”
—Orphic Hymn 17 to Poseidon (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.)
FOREWORD
This book is a fun twist on the classic poor girl meets prince story we’ve all come to know and love, Cinderella.
Paxton Guthrie was inspired by the swoony linebacker, Clay Matthews, formerly #52 for the Packers—We miss you, Matthews!
He’s big, blond, and crushes QBs like nobody else…
PROLOGUE
Paxton “Poseidon” Guthrie laughed and patted his teammate’s shoulder as they entered the doors of the exclusive gentlemen’s club, RISE.
It was one of the classiest, most luxurious strip clubs he’d ever been in, and he’d frequented many in his twenty-five years on the planet. Brilliant Chandeliers cascaded from the ceiling and the curtains were gold and black; even the poles were shimmering, along with the masked dancers. Damn, so this was what $5,000 a year membership bought a man, huh?
Quillan Layton seemed to be just as impressed as he smirked over at Pax, his thick brows rising.
It was Monday night, practically their “Friday.” They’d been watching game film all day and got out of meetings by four. It had been Pax’s idea for a night on the town and who could pass up an opportunity to come to one of the most infamous gentlemen’s clubs in Atlanta? Especially when Quil had an invite he’d never cashed in. Plus, he owed Pax big time for the charity event he was doing come Friday night, all because Quil had pussied out on Madi.
They were escorted by one of the hostesses to a table closest to the center stage where a woman in a deep purple and silver wig and matching mask danced on the pole. She had a great body from what he could see. It was covered in thin lace that matched the rest of her “costume.” She winked at Quil, and Pax rolled his eyes.
Quil had that broody, broken hero look—the one the ladies just swooned over. Tall, dark, and handsome—or so they’d said. Pax was a sandy blond, blue-eyed California boy with a gold tan and a build as solid as a Ford F-150. He could lift tires as big as Quil without straining. He was a linebacker who crushed quarterbacks for a living. Pax was…totally getting passed up by the hot stripper for Quil.
“Dude, what the fuck!” Paxton mumbled under his breath. “Every damn time.”
Funny thing was, Quil wasn’t even interested…or so it always seemed. And Pax could understand. Quillan’s wife died last year and he was now raising a six-year-old little girl alone thanks to her drug addiction.
“Uh, no thank you,” Quil answered as the stripper whispered into his ear, running her hand along his jaw then down his chest to his ink-sleeved forearm.
Pax was close enough to hear her say, “Don’t worry, stud. I’m clean.”
It wouldn’t have mattered if she was clean and housed a platinum-coated pussy, Quil wasn’t gonna touch a stripper. He hadn’t thus far anyway. What made this one any different?
Pax noted her body was covered in tattoos: various flowers, hearts, a pirate, a skull. Her porcelain skin was a paradox of seamless designs running from the wrist of her left arm, diagonally across her back and down her entire right leg. Her nose was pierced with a sexy little diamond that emphasized her button nose and her eyes were big and doe-like, lashes thick.
“C’mon over here and sit on Poseidon’s lap, angel. I’ll let you release the Kraken if you’re a good girl.”
She smirked at the challenge before her, turning her attention back to Quil. She moved into his lap, much to his dismay it would seem. She tilted her head quizzically and studied him as if he had a hidden road map in his eyes.
“If he’s Poseidon then who are you?” she asked Quillan.
“Oh, he’s Hades,” Pax answered for him, knowing Quil was a man of few words.
“Hades, huh?” That seemed to excite her even more. Well, damn, Pax thought.
Pax looked over at Quillan as the stripper began to rock her body against him and checked his watch. He’d give the girl another three minutes before Quil told her to am-scray in typical Hades fashion. The TE didn’t mind watching, but he didn’t want to participate—not usually, anyway.
As Pax waited, a shot girl came by and took his drink order. Quil ordered a tonic on ice. Just a tonic.
Damn, looks like I’m drinking by myself too, Pax scowled to himself. Pax didn’t drink often, but he was craving hard liquor tonight. He was anxious, dreading the shit-show to come—a shit-show his CEO had got him into. He was certain his date on Friday night wouldn’t be quite as sexy as the chick seated on his buddy’s lap.
“You don’t like me, do you, god of darkness?” The exotic—in more ways than one—dancer asked Quil.
She didn’t know that Quil wasn’t one for small talk. Until one got to know him, he didn’t have much to say. Quil was philosophical after all; he got that from both his Spanish and Native American roots.
“P
erhaps a kiss will change your mind.” She arched a brow.
Before Quillan could protest, the stripper was grabbing his shirt collar and had her tongue down his throat. Pax harrumphed. Damn, what the hell kinda club was this and where was his stripper—or was only one assigned per table?
He looked around and motioned to the approaching shooter girl; he thanked her for the drinks and asked for a dance too. She gave him a nod and set their drinks down. Meanwhile, Quil suddenly seemed interested in the stripper now that she’d overpowered him; not that Pax could blame him, she was licking Quil’s lips like he was made of chocolate or something. Shit! The lucky S.O.B. And fuck, she had a tongue ring too.
Pax shook his head. No damn fair. He was the one who’d wanted to come out tonight and have a good time, but it looked like Quil was the one having the good time.
Quil appeared to come to then, the wicked enchantresses’ curse breaking, if only momentarily. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her back some, gaping at her strangely.
“Oh, you suddenly remember you two aren’t alone? Hi! Yeah, remember me?” Pax smarted, and Quil glanced over at him, looking dazed and confused.
Damn! Again, Pax was blown away. When was the last time he’d been kissed stupid like that? It’d been a long time.
“Yeah, you’re buying the drinks too, asshole. I can’t believe I’m stuck doing your dirty work Friday night because you aren’t man enough to take some stuck-up Atlanta socialite out to dinner. Meanwhile, I’ll just sit here and watch you make out with the hot stripper too. Yeah, suck all the fun out of my week, why don’t you? Rub it in my face a little more. You’re a real dick, you know that?” Pax whined and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Would you excuse us, señorita?” Quil gave purple-silver stripper a sweet grin. She leaned into him, sucking his earlobe for a moment before finally hopping off his lap and throwing a business card in her place.
“The name’s Obsidian. Give me a call when you’re not babysitting ‘Whiny’ over here, dark god, and I’ll give you a real show.” She blew a kiss to Quil and cocked her head sassily at Pax before turning on her heel and sashaying off.
“Welcome back, earthling,” Paxton scoffed as Quil glanced his way, mouth wide in a grin.
“Pax, you’re a total buzzkill.”
“Me? This was supposed to be my night, not yours, damn you!”
“God, you’re always only thinking of yourself, mocoso.” Quil shook his head incredulously.
“Brat? Seriously? You wanna go there?”
“Oh, shut up. I got rid of her. Now let’s find one for you since you can’t have fun without a woman around.”
Pax knew he was pouting, but dammit, it wasn’t fair. The thoughts of having to go out to dinner with some overstuffed, ugly, rich broad he didn’t know just for show was about as appealing as getting a root canal. He realized he’d volunteered and hadn’t made a big deal out of it at the time, but Quil had been giving him that puppy dog look and Madi had been so damn persistent; he’d been put into a catch-22.
“I still can’t believe I’m doing this for you.”
“Oh come off it! You’re doing this for the team, not just for me.”
“Last I remember, pal, it was your neck in the noose, not mine.”
“Stop acting like you’re doing us both a favor here, amigo. You don’t wanna do it, say the fucking word and I’ll—”
“No, I already agreed, and Madi—”
“Then shut the fuck up about it. Go on the damn date, go home, and get over it… pendejo.”
They sipped their drinks before Quil nudged him and they watched the next masked dancer on stage as she performed in a sexy and gifted way, moving over the pole and floor like she was part of both. These girls weren’t just typical strippers; there was advanced choreography to all this. Even the way they walked was different, the songs were different. This club was…well, just different. And in a good way, too.
“I would say ‘Gracias,’ but you haven’t done anything yet,” Quil teased him.
“Yeah, yeah! You’re just upset that I scared off tongue-ring girl.”
“You would be too if she’d kissed you like that,” Quillan scoffed.
“Is that black heart of yours softening, Hades?” Pax feigned shock.
“You know, Pax, as surprised as you’d be with my answer, there are things about married life that I do miss... and not just the sex.” Quil leaned back in his chair and looked over at him.
“Yeah, well, you go right ahead, man. I don’t want nothing to do with it. Brett and Trav are whipped, like totally and completely, and just wait til those babies get here. It’ll be even worse.”
Quil snorted. “Oh? You think so, huh? Let me tell you a little secret, playboy. When you hold the niño that you created in your arms for the first time, there’s nothing in the world that even comes close. Not even a hot stripper with a tongue ring French-kissing you.” Quil sighed heavily. “Remember I told you that!”
The man had to be crazy. As a scantily clad stripper in a red mask walked by and winked, Pax admired her tight body; he knew Quil’d just been too long without a woman.
Nothing beat the single life, nothing beat the quiet, nothing beat the freedom of being “unchained.”
And nothing would ever lead him to think otherwise!
CHAPTER ONE
“You’re a good sport, Pax,” the lovely Madison McFadden smiled over at him and kissed his cheek. Madi was the CEO and VP of the team Paxton played for, the Atlanta Gladiators, and she was also his friend, as well as the wife of his QB, the infamous Zeus, Brett “Brickhouse” McFadden.
Paxton “Poseidon” Guthrie had played for the Gladiators for the last three—going on four—years now. He was an outside linebacker and loved his defense, getting to play alongside the legendary cornerback from San Antonio, Lincoln “Lazarus” Porter.
Pax was a California native with a penchant—and reputation—for crushing QBs, as well as being a hippie surfer—which he was cool with because he was. His mom was a naturalist and a vegan, and Pax had followed in her footsteps.
Tonight, his reputation would precede him. He’d gotten roped into doing this stupid date to help raise money for the Atlanta Children’s Hospital in their annual charity auction. All week, women (and men) were able to donate money and have their names entered for a chance to win the prize. The prize they were auctioning off? A date with Paxton Guthrie. The men got a date with one of the cheerleaders. Not only was Pax single, he was also apparently a hot commodity with the ladies. As they pulled up in the limo, women practically swarmed it.
“Damn, look at all the eligible women of Atlanta. Hell-ooo, ladies,” Pax cooed and gazed at the mob of women of various races, sizes, and ages all there to see who the lucky winner for tonight’s once-in-a-lifetime happy hour with him.
“Now, Pax. Remember, no sex, no kissing—just good, old-fashioned fun. Think of this as pre-pubescent middle school.”
“Seriously, Madi? Would I disappoint you? I’ll be your golden boy.”
Madi’s blonde brow went up, not trusting him as far as she could throw him—which wouldn’t be far at all. “I know you’re young and this lady might—”
“Yes, mom.” He rolled his eyes. “C’mon. It’s a couple hours. How much trouble could I get into in that time frame? Wait. Don’t answer that.” Madi looked miffed when he smiled playfully. “Hey, I’m not Travis.”
“Travis is a saint now that he’s with Skyla. It’s not your place to replace his bad boy-ness, just remember that.”
“Did you just make up a word?”
“All words are made up,” she smirked. “But seriously, you’re sexless tonight. Ya got me? The last thing this organization needs is bad publicity or a sexual harassment lawsuit on our hands while we’re soaring like we are right now.”
“I’m a heavy supporter of women’s rights as you well know, Mrs. McFadden.” He gave her a big boyish grin, and she leaned back in to hug him.
“Thanks for
doing this.”
“Thank me tomorrow, Mad. Let’s go rip this Band-Aid off.”
Pax was simply eager to see who his date was, get it over with, and be ready for his game against Tennessee on Sunday night. It was the second weekend in October, and they’d won all four games they’d played thus far—week three had been their bye week. The Gods of the Gridiron had their eyes on the Super Bowl this year, and they aimed to get there.
He got out of the black limo first, adjusting his turquoise blue Tommy Bahama button-down shirt—the one he’d specifically chosen to highlight his bright blue eyes—and his slacks before turning to the flashing cameras and giving a bright smile. He then turned to assist his boss from the car. She looked stunning as always in a flattering crimson pants suit, perfect for her tall, athletic figure with strappy gold heels that Pax thought were sexy. Her blonde hair was pinned back and her lips painted red to match her outfit. He took her hand and tucked it into his arm as they walked the red carpet to the entrance of the arena.
So many participants had entered, they’d had to change venues, Madi told him earlier. The auction and drive had garnered lots of interest for the hospital and their team, and Pax knew it was because they’d been doing so well this year. And maybe it had to do with him. He’d been compared to Thor all week; he’d take that. Being paralleled to the Australian heartthrob, Chris Hemsworth, was a compliment he’d take over and over again.
PASS INTERFERENCE (Gods of the Gridiron Book 3) Page 1
