They spoke about Paxton’s upcoming game, his record this year, then Becca’s work, her family, and finally, Tara and Lance’s upcoming wedding in February. Becca wasn’t sure who was more floored, her or Pax, who looked like he’d lost his appetite as he pulled the celery stick from his mouth and set it on a napkin.
His uncle Kawai saved the day by reminiscing about old times and soon, they were moving into the dining room for their mid-day meal.
No one volunteered to say the blessing, but Becca shyly offered up a whispered thanksgiving and crossed herself, blushing when all eyes fell on her. Sonia came out about that time, bless her, bringing dish after dish of food.
Becca knew Pax respected her Catholicism, but he’d never spoken of religion or God around her. He practiced meditation and fasting, but not for religious purposes; he was wholly new age, although she wasn’t sure that he would even “identify” as such.
Sonia had prepared a feast of turkey, grilled salmon, cornbread and Irish soda bread stuffing, a fresh cranberry mold, a green bean casserole at Paxton’s request, and colcannon at Becca’s. She’d also made honeyed sweet potatoes, gravy, and creamed corn along with a beautiful caramel apple pie and a bourbon chocolate pecan pie. Becca wasn’t sure how she would possibly eat again at her mother’s house but took little bites of everything, praising Sonia for such a delicious spread.
When Pax passed the champagne around for more libations, Lance toasted Paxton, his home, and his happiness. Becca could see Pax was weary of the man’s true intentions. Pax was always one to give people the benefit of the doubt, but this was his mother, and Becca couldn’t blame him; if it were her mother, she would feel the same way.
They had an amicable meal, despite the slight tension, and soon the men were off to the living room to watch football and the women were in the kitchen, cleaning up.
Tara smiled over at Becca then as she washed dishes and Becca dried, sending Sonia home to enjoy her own Thanksgiving.
“I can see my son cares a great deal for you.”
If she was fishing, she was doing a great job; Becca’s cheeks flamed in bashfulness. “Pax is wonderful.”
“He has a heart of gold and the spirit of the sea, my makai.” When Becca’s brows furrowed in question, Tara laughed. “He was born to the sea, my son. He’s always been one with it—from the minute his little feet hit the sand. His father and I got him when he was barely two. So small and afraid. He grew up on the beach, never wanting to part with it. He was all-out surfing by five. I think it was where he felt the most at home. When his father left, I thought I’d lost Pax too.” Tara’s head bowed. “But he quickly connected with my brother, who wouldn’t let him be lost to the world. He was a great father to Paxton.”
Becca smiled. “I can see that he loves you both very much. He speaks of you often.”
“We aren’t the only ones he loves.” Tara’s eyes twinkled, making Becca gulp.
She wished she could tell Pax’s mother the truth, but she didn’t have it in her to do so—and it wasn’t her place either. She just attempted to smile back, getting lost in the task at hand.
Later, they’d gone to see Becca’s mom and sister and had a pleasant enough time, despite Veda’s ever-sullen gaze on Paxton. Veda had the chronic chip on her shoulder where Pax was concerned but seemed far away, excusing herself right after their dinner and not coming out of her room for dessert. Becca wondered if they would ever be able to make amends when all this was over; so much had happened in such a short time span. It left her feeling drained and even more broken.
They came back to Pax’s and were now preparing for bed. Their nighttime routines were robotic as they both absorbed all that the day had brought them.
Becca felt strange sliding in beside her god of a linebacker who lovingly wrapped his huge arms around her, pulling her into his barrel chest.
“Mmm, this is nice,” he murmured in her ear.
Becca couldn’t help the giggle at her throat. “Pax,” she scolded as his hands moved bravely lower.
“What? How can I have such a tempting little naia in my bed and not answer the call of my body?” his voice lowered as his lips brushed her ear, making her shiver, and causing her nipples to harden beneath the thin silk of her shift. “If it feels good, do it, I always say.”
His hand moved to her breast and squeezed possessively. She moaned hungrily.
“Fuck, Becca, look at what you do to me, my Amphitrite.” He pulled her hand to his prominent erection.
“Pax, I don’t want your family to hear us.”
When his hand moved down to her belly, she gripped it in her own and looked into his eyes.
“How would you feel if you were to hear your mother doing this?”
“Gross!” he sneered. “Way to kill the mood.” He grumbled and rolled back to his back. He huffed out and crossed his arms over his chest, getting a snicker from Rebecca.
“I’m sorry…”
“Gah, I don’t like that guy.”
“Would you like any guy your mom chose?”
Pax shrugged. “Probably not.”
Becca smiled and leaned in to kiss her lover’s cheek, rubbing her hand over his perfectly chiseled chest. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He moaned, whether happily or in torture she wasn’t sure. “That’s fine, sweetness. Just know that when we leave Brett’s tomorrow, you’re all mine. Even if I have to go out to the barn and take you there in a damn stall in the hay, I will have you.”
Little did he know, he already had her—every single piece of her: heart, soul, and body.
Pax left practice that Saturday feeling tired; it was probably a combination of his routes and the excessive sex he’d been having. He’d never had as much sex being a single bachelor as he had while being falsely engaged. The thought made him smile as he moved from the garage into the mud room. He removed his sneakers and grinned as he heard Twisted Sister singing to him from the kitchen.
His eyes weren’t prepared as they fell on his fake bride to be. She was clad in a jersey—and not just any jersey, his jersey. Number 52 swallowed the entirety of her back, but it was her sexy, creamy legs that drew him in; they were bare. She had a crimson thong on beneath the jersey, and Pax moaned as his eyes took in her plump butt cheeks when she reached up on her tiptoes to grab a platter.
A wave of sudden awareness hit him square in the chest, knocking him backward.
Becca was cooking dinner, humming and hadn’t noticed him. She turned then, rocking air guitar as the guitar rift of “I Wanna Rock” belted out to them.
She stilled when she saw him, those cheeks of hers as red as little apples, and he fought the urge to pounce on her. She giggled and reached for the speaker, turning the music down.
“Hi,” she said, pushing her glasses back up her nose with her flour-coated index finger. Her dark hair was down, curled in ribbons, and her face was lightly covered in makeup. She looked stunning, and he wanted her with a hunger that wouldn’t be squelched.
He lunged and grabbed her around the waist, getting a squeak out of her before he slammed his lips to hers, marking her, then thrusting his tongue in as one hand moved into her dark hair and the other lowered to grip one of those firm ass cheeks.
“Mmm, hell of a way to welcome a man home, lass,” he mumbled when he pulled back for a breath.
Rebecca gulped then nodded, licking her lips and making him growl when she pulled at them with her teeth.
A sizzle from the stove drew her attention away, and she turned to attend something in a skillet.
Pax stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, oblivious to the delicious smell coming from the pan; he was too entranced with the lilac fragrance in Becca’s hair. “I could seriously get used to this, Bec,” he whispered into her ear as he moved her hair aside and nibbled at her neck.
“Pax,” she giggled as his hand moved up the jersey to cup her breast.
“This jersey has never looked so good, baby. But I’d rath
er get you out of it.”
She gasped as his other hand slid up her side. She swatted it away and scolded him. “Let me at least get the stew finished.”
He grumbled then finally looked down to see what she was doing. A large pot was boiling and she was stirring it while a dozen sea scallops browned in some butter. His belly grumbled, but it was his cock that took center stage as he began to run the throbbing shaft across Becca’s ample bottom.
“God, I want you.”
“I figured you’d had quite enough salmon, and I’d enough turkey, for a few days.” Becca continued, as if he wasn’t swelled to bursting. “Plus, I wanted to dazzle you with my cooking skills. Irish fish stew.” She looked back at him shyly, and he grinned.
“Sweetness, you constantly dazzle me. But your first mistake was wearing my jersey with nothing underneath it.” He squeezed her breast firmly, confirming his suspicions.
She tried to hold her composure as she lifted the skillet and poured the scallops into the pot then turned the stove eye to low, plopping the lid back onto the simmering stew. She whipped around, a mischievous grin on her beautiful face.
“Oh, just wait ‘til you see this,” she tittered again as she lifted the jersey that was tied at one corner to reveal the thong. It read, “Release the Kraken.”
Pax was torn between amusement and arousal as he groaned and pulled her back against him. “You naughty little naia. Whatever am I going to do with you?” His lips claimed hers again as he lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he backed them into the wall.
Becca’s passion was burning as hot as his as he began to lift the jersey over her head and tossed it to the floor.
“How dare you disrespect Poseidon’s property!” She gaped, even as she ran her hands through his locks, still damp from his shower.
“This is Poseidon’s property right here.” He buried his head in her bosom and began loving her breasts, getting little mewing sounds from her that stroked his desire to a roiling peak. He was peeling the thong down when Rebecca protested. “What is it, angel?” he asked and pulled back to look into her glowing green eyes.
“I want you naked, too.”
He smirked. “Anything my Amphitrite desires.” He jerked his tank top off in one fell swoop.
“Mmm,” the moan that came from her lips nearly had him reeling. “God, Paxton, I love your muscles. They’re so sexy.” She roved her hands over his naked torso, loving his hard flesh with adoring caresses; fingertips danced over his shoulders, down his pecs, across his abs.
“Nothing is sexier than you are, sweetness.” He kissed her creamy mounds to prove it, then kissed her lips hard once more as he jerked the thong aside and wiggled his shorts down his hips. When he entered her, he nearly came undone. “Shit, baby… Damn! How are you even sweeter than last night?”
He focused his attentions fully on pleasuring his sea goddess, watching her face as he made love to her against the wall, loving her gasps, her moans, and her body taking him in with such ease. He soon moved them from the wall to the low, island countertop, afraid he would hurt her back in his fury to make her his. And she was his, wholly and completely, as she split apart, wave after wave lapping her, enfolding him, beckoning him closer and closer to capsizing.
“Pax,” she gasped when she came up to the surface from the abyss he’d thrust her into.
“Yes, my sweetness,” he gritted his teeth, so close to surrender as his hand moved up her thigh to grip her tighter to him, even as her legs wrapped tighter around his hips. He groaned.
“I-I want to… to captain the ship.”
If he hadn’t been so close to an orgasm, he would have full out laughed. But he could do nothing but yield to his little dolphin, the mermaid of Poseidon’s sea, the siren that had sank her claws so deep into him that he knew there was nothing that could disconnect her from him.
He guided them to the floor, positioning her atop him where she mounted him like a seahorse. She was the goddess of the sea, after all. Her hands moved over his chest and she gasped and groaned and climbed, her bottom bouncing on him with a rhythm as old as the sea itself. And he succumbed, overcome by the tides she commanded in him.
As he came back to shore, he grinned as he looked up at his queen, feeling love seep from every pore of his skin. He loved her, her fickleness, her sweetness, her nerdiness. All of her. And when this phony engagement was over, he was going to ask her out on a real date and court her, win her heart. Historical romance book boyfriends eat your hearts out!
“What is this?” Pax growled, slamming his phone down onto the table with an angry fist, the fury on his face unlike anything Rebecca had seen before.
She took one look at the text message, and her stomach sank. The eyes that looked down on her were furious. “Pax, I—”
“You let Madison bribe you?”
“No, I—”
“I don’t know what makes me madder: the fact that you accepted a bribe or that you find money more valuable than what we have between us!”
“Paxton, I—” she began again, only to be cut off.
“How could you?”
He was hurt. She was surprised but not completely. After all, this was a shot to his pride and nothing more…right?
“I mean, I understand you need the money, Rebecca, for your mom and all. But all you had to do was ask me. I would have given you anything you needed. This… this is a low blow.”
“Paxton, I didn’t…” But she didn’t have the heart to tell him that it had been Veda not her that had done this. She’d told Veda about what Madi had said, and Veda, without her knowledge, had taken it upon herself to go to Madison and accept a bargain. It wasn’t the first time Rebecca’s twin sister had pretended to be her. Hell, all she had to do was cover her tattoos with that expensive makeup she had, take out her nose ring, throw her hair up, don a pair of glasses, and steal some of Becca’s clothes, and they were identical. As much as it upset her that Veda had done such a sneaky thing, the look on Paxton’s face hurt more. But she simply couldn’t tell him that it had been Veda; he hated her sister enough already. “I’m sorry.” She lowered her head.
“Sorry! Were we gonna talk about this or were you just gonna up and split when the money transfer was complete?”
Becca didn’t know all the details about what had taken place. Although she planned to tear her sister up one side and down another. She shook her head.
“Do I have any say on the matter at all?” His blue eyes tore into her so deep that she winced, but then she remembered how he’d taken her by storm at the hospital that day.
“I didn’t have a say when you first took control of the situation, now did I?” she retorted; he wasn’t blameless about all this either.
“I was trying to save us both. I reacted as quickly as I could. The media are blood-thirsty hounds. We were very lucky things worked out like they did.” Pax huffed and turned, running his hands through his long curls. “After all I did, this is the thanks I get. Back-stabbed? I should’ve known better.”
Becca’s heart tore at that. Fresh blood seeped out and poured down her body, all the way to her toes; it hurt. “What do you mean?”
“Madi warned me, and I should’ve listened, but I was too blinded by your purity to think you’d do something so devious.”
Becca gulped. “Pax, I—”
“Go pack up your things. I’ll have you driven home. The jig is up; I don’t wanna see you again.”
Paxton’s mood was toxic at practice that next day. He couldn’t focus on anything except the rage building inside him. How could Becca throw away everything? All for money. His love, his charity, his sacrifices, and for what? A measly three million dollars. Brooke had been the one to send the message to him, and he’d not questioned it at the time.
Brooke: I thought you might find this interesting. The text message had said.
It was a screenshot of a check made out to Rebecca Ryan. And his heart had broken in two. But he’d not really talked to Rebecc
a about it. Not gotten her side of the story. Although, he had no desire at the time to hear it, he did now. Now that he’d had time to think about what it meant, and why she’d done it. He wasn’t as angry now so much as hurt. Why did everyone he cared for have to up and disappoint him? And she hadn’t fought to stay. She’d simply up and left as he’d asked. Was he not worth fighting for?
That was why he was so angry. Because if she’d loved him in return, she wouldn’t have been able to leave so easily.
Just like your father, the thought reverberated through his head.
Pax smashed into the dummy on the two-man sled and shoved with all his might, thrusting his anger, pain, and fury into the equipment. His blood pressure shot up, and he roared as it moved easily across the turf.
He ran his drills robotically, his mind searching for answers that he probably would never get.
It was all a big mistake, he told himself. To trust anyone else. To let her into his heart like he had. She’d seemed sweet and innocent, but perhaps she’d never been. It had all been a game. Madi had been right; Rebecca was just another gold-digger.
Paxton shuffled into the locker room to shower, seeing Brett, Quil, Josh, and TJ looking forlorn.
“What’s wrong?” he grumbled, not understanding why their faces were as tight as his own.
“It’s Sky. There’s been an accident,” Brett answered.
“Is she ok?” he looked around for Trav but knew that he’d probably already left to go meet her—wherever she was or was headed to.
“We don’t know anything beyond the fact that her Navigator was hit head-on. Totaled.”
“Is she alive?” Concern pulled at his heart for his friend, his teammate, and the woman Travis Redmond held higher than anyone, even his brothers.
“She’s alive… but it doesn’t sound good, man,” Josh stated, looking down.
“Fuck.” Pax fell to the bench; his body overcome with adrenaline and worry.
PASS INTERFERENCE (Gods of the Gridiron Book 3) Page 18
