Wicked Player (A Rough Riders Novel Book 3)

by Stacey Lynn

  "Yup. They also learned that Mr. Gardner was a really good shot with the shotgun."

  He tossed those same hands into the air and his mouth dropped. "He shot your brothers?”

  "He shot at them—”

  I was immediately cut off. The door opened forcefully grabbing both my attention and Brandon’s. Gage stood in the doorway and if I’d been reading wearing a red cape, he would have charged at me with horns lowered. His fury for me was unmistakable.

  He let go of the handle and stepped into the room. Skewering me with a glare that froze me to my spot, he shifted his gaze to Brandon and grinned. "Hey little man, how are you doing today?"

  Brandon's eyes slid from Gage to me and back again. Shrugging, he said, "I'm okay. Ms. Hayes was just telling me a story about how her brothers tried to jump on a bunch of cows and ride them like horses."

  “Is that right?” He didn’t glance back at me. In an instant, he managed to dismiss me. Gage pulled up the chair I had been sitting on before I became animated with my story, and sat down on it next to Brandon's side of the bed.

  "How about you tell me that story," he said. He was speaking to Brandon, not me and irritation spiked. Sure, I’d only met Brandon because I followed Gage last week, but I still felt a lump in my throat when I left the hospital without saying hi to him. I’d left quickly after Gage had turned and hurried out of the room, mumbling to Jason I had all I needed. And I’d been so caught up in the story afterward, apologizing to Jason over his cursed mumblings about my strange behavior, I’d been too upset to go say hi.

  But today, I’d stopped by just to see Penny and Brandon and when I arrived and Brandon was sleeping, I sent Penny down to the cafeteria.

  I hadn’t expected Gage to be there at all. Now, with the way he was ignoring me, shifting his back to me and giving Brandon his full attention, I almost wished I never would have come.

  His actions were clear. He wanted me gone. And he wanted me gone now.

  I wasn't a pushover. With three brothers in the house, they’d taught me at an early age how to stand up for myself. They also taught me how to learn when to walk away from a fight. The last thing I wanted to do was fight with Gage or get into any kind of argument with him with Brandon in the room. Besides, his sudden problem with me wasn’t my business.

  Although that didn’t explain the stinging pain in my chest as he ignored me.

  I stepped softly to the end of the bed and placed my hand on Brandon’s blanket covered feet. "I need to get back to work anyway. Thanks for letting me hang out with you this afternoon. I'll see you soon okay, buddy?"

  Brandon's grin had to have the ability to melt even the hardest of hardened hearts. His teeth were slightly yellowed, and two of them had chips in them. Most likely due to chemo damage ravaging his little body. But even with the flaws, his smile was a shining beacon able to light up Times Square on New Year's Eve. Goddamn. He was cute.

  “Come see me again?” he asked in that pleading, sweet voice of his.

  “I will,” I promised. And I would. Even if Gage showed and made it clear he didn’t want me there. Whatever his problem was wasn’t my business. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “And bring Will?”

  No kid should know as many newscasters as this boy did. I flashed him a wink. “Maybe I’ll bring Amanda, too.”

  His cheeks flushed. A pale pink hue at the apples of his cheeks. “You…well…she…”

  “She’s cute, I know. And she’ll like you too. Later this week okay?” I’d make her stop by with me on our way out for drinks. She’d be flattered by his crush on her. He might have liked my reporting, but it was Amanda’s boobs I was sure made Brandon flush like he was the healthiest pre-teen in the world.

  “Thanks, Ms. Hayes.”

  “I told you, Brandon. My friends call me Elizabeth or Beth.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, Gage’s shoulders went ramrod and his head turned to me. With narrowed eyes, a gleam in them shone. Something fierce. Something hot. Something that’d whipped the breath out of my lungs.

  With a dangerously low voice, he rumbled, “See you soon. Beth.”

  I gasped. Stepped back.

  His voice was gravelly. Rich and rough.

  My hand went to the foot of the bed as I grappled for balance.

  It was him?

  It couldn’t be. I shook my head and without looking at either of them, grabbed my purse and hurried out of the room.

  Outside, I plopped against the cool wall and stared at my feet.

  See you soon.

  See you soon.

  Beth.

  Fuck.

  Hands on the dresser.

  Give me that ass.

  My eyes squeezed shut until bright little dots shone behind closed lids.

  It was him.

  John.

  And it was like he wanted me to know with that look and that growl.

  Oh God.

  It had happened. I was falling for the man who masked me and screwed me senseless.

  And for some reason, the man seemed to hate my guts.

  My legs were still wobbling as I entered my apartment. How I managed to drive back home without swerving into a ditch was still a surprise.

  How? How could that man be the same guy who spanked me and plugged me and did all the delicious things I loved and did them so exquisitely I knew I’d never find another guy who was so perfect for me?

  At least sexually. Personality wise we definitely seemed to be on different wavelengths.

  I locked the door behind me, kicked off my sandals, and dropped my purse on the entryway table.

  “Shit,” I groaned. My hands went to the back of my neck and I rubbed away the tension that had popped and flared as soon as Gage burst into that small hospital room.

  They really needed to make those things bigger.

  It was my day off work, and I’d planned a relaxing day. Go see Brandon, stop by the gym and then to go get my nails done. On the way home, I’d swing by the grocery store, come home and soak in a nice long bubble bath with a glass of red wine and a good book to finish out the carefree day.

  Now all those plans were shot to shit. I wasn’t relaxed and carefree. I was wound tighter than a stripper upside down on a stripper pole. My legs ached for no reason. My shoulders curled forward the muscles were so tense. My cupboards were bare and my wine was non-existent. And it was all because of stupid Gage Bryant and his glares and gravelly voice.

  Goddamn it. How could it be him? I hadn’t been mistaken, but it explained so much.

  How he knew about Velvet in the first place. Why he’d looked so pissed at me at that news conference. Why he couldn’t wait to get away from me afterward.

  He’d screwed up my day. He’d screwed up my trip to Velvet. How could I see him again and take the blindfold and act like I didn’t know it was him?

  Unless…he wanted me to know.

  Maybe it was driving him crazy I hadn’t recognized him immediately.

  “Yeah right.” I snorted. “Gage doesn’t seem like the guy with an easily wounded ego.”

  I flipped on the water to the shower and while it warmed, I wrapped my hair into a messy bun with a scrunchie. Screw the workout. A hot shower wouldn’t clear my head, but at least I’d feel clean.

  Afterward, I’d go to the store, stock up on the necessities: cheese and wine. And later, I’d gorge on a season of Outlander or Game of Thrones. Anything epic to take my mind off of Gage Bryant.

  Easier said than done.

  As soon as I stepped into the shower, and the hot water pounded against my shoulders, my back, I was assaulted with memories of him.

  The way he smiled at Brandon. His story behind the reason for the center. He wasn’t some damn entitled superstar doing this out of obligation. He was doing it because he wished he’d had it when he needed it. He was doing it to make a difference because it would have made a difference to him.

  As my mind conjured dozens of reasons to stay away from him,
my wandering, traitorous hands discovered a mind of their own.

  That stupid, growly voice in my ear. The scrape of his now shaven scruff along my inner thighs. The force of his fingers against my forbidden areas.

  “Damn it.” My face flushed. My body warmed from nothing to do with the water.

  The tops of my thighs pulsed as every memory of the two of us together in two, long but intense encounters swirled through my mind.

  I couldn’t stop the arousal that blossomed deep within me.

  None of his growls and glares and scowls and clipped words and impatience did a darn thing to dull the ache at the tops of my thighs.

  I brushed my thumb over my nipple and shivered. They were already hard and sensitive. Aching for attention. I pinched one, ran my other hand down my stomach. Everything was lit with need. Every aching inch of my flesh was ready for him.

  But would I ever see him again?

  “Doesn’t matter,” I whispered to the shower wall. I didn’t need Gage Bryant or his commands or his punishments for not listening. The memories I had of him would forever be enough to take care of me.

  Which meant, as my hand drifted down to my core, already swollen and throbbing, it didn’t take long to get myself off.

  I came, crying out Gage’s name.

  “Shit.” I reached for the soap and dumped way too much onto my loofah. My voice trembled as badly as my shaking legs.

  I was dead wrong. The memories of Gage might have been enough to get me off, but it wasn’t nearly what I needed.

  My body needed him.

  And now that I knew who he was, how would that ever happen again?

  “That’s all from the Rough Riders’ stadium, where dozens of children and families will be attending this Sunday’s home game, right from this very own field level suite. I’m Elizabeth Hayes with XTCP. Back to you in the station, Amanda.”

  I grinned, fake as fake could be, and waited until Jason flipped his standard two-finger salute, letting me know we were clear.

  Oh my God. A day in hell couldn’t be worse than the afternoon I’d spent.

  Hours. Hours upon hours watching padded and suited up mountainous men grunt and shove and tackle and run and throw.

  Why had I never been a football fan before?

  I’d missed too much of my life spending it in the kitchen with my mom getting manicures and learning how to braid hair. I should have been on my dad’s lap, learning the ins and outs of the games so I wasn’t so lost.

  Today was too much. An open practice where I sat and focused, not only on the upcoming weekend where I’d be forced to watch the game from that field level suite I mentioned in my broadcast, but three hours of seeing Gage run and catch a ball, smack a player’s ass, shove another to the side.

  His smile was wicked but focused, his intensity a notch above everyone else, but he still maintained a playfulness that made watching him love the game he played for a living and multi-million dollar contracts and endorsements, so damn enthralling.

  My panties were wet. It couldn’t be helped.

  I’d rubbed one out to thoughts of Gage more times than I could count over the weekend. It was amazing my knuckles on my fingers hadn’t locked up.

  Good God. He brought that lusting on himself with not only the things he’d done to me at Velvet, but by the way he moved on the field.

  It shouldn’t have hurt that he hadn’t looked my way. Nope. Not even once. He’d sauntered over to Connor and answered a few questions. He’d even grinned happily down at little miss perky syndicate reporter. But me? As soon as I went to ask a question, he rose his brows, pressed his lips together, and walked away.

  Which meant even while I was doing my job the best I could, I wasn’t getting enough to knock this out of the park to secure my spot for the nighttime news desk.

  We hadn’t heard from Shayla in the last two weeks since she went on leave. The verdict on that job would be out for months yet until she returned or gave notice, but damn it. My career was on the line and if I didn’t nail it, I’d be stuck doing news reports with giraffes trying to eat my hair for the rest of my life.

  And Gage was ruining it for me.

  He was ruining everything for me.

  The ability to masturbate happily and be satisfied enough for sleep.

  He was ruining my dreams and decent night’s sleep.

  And hell, he was even ruining my ability to zone out on Sundays to silly love movies on the Hallmark Channel because I knew, just knew, I was now going to be tempted to turn on sports channels. And wasn’t that a swift kick to the boobs?

  I’d successfully managed to ignore sports all my life even with a house filled with ultra-over-the-top testosterone driven males and two weeks of knowing Gage Bryant and having his hands on me twice, I’d become a fool.

  I kicked at the turf, grumbling under my breath.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and I dug it out, grinning as I read the texts from Amanda.

  “Great job today! Damn those men are pretty. Drinks tonight?”

  My thumbs flew across the small keyboard. Oh yes. LOTS of drink.

  Uh oh…trouble with the hunk of meat?

  I’d tell her all I could later but now wasn’t the time.

  A pair of black dress shoes stopped in front of me. How much worse could this day get?

  “What do you want Connor?” I asked.

  I didn’t have to look at him to know who it was. He was the only guy in the place wearing dress shoes. The players had on cleats. The cameramen were wearing running shoes.

  I typed back my quick reply. Men suck. Talk later. Be to the station in 45.

  She sent me a “thumbs up” emoji and I stepped toward where Jason was still taking care of his equipment.

  “You know what I want,” Connor said.

  His voice had gone soft and thready. I knew exactly what that meant.

  I stopped, barely able to conceal my eye roll. He’d like it too much.

  “No.”

  He stepped in front of me and lifted his hands.

  “Seriously?” I arched both brows. Was he joking? “Do not block me with your body thinking intimidating me will get me to change my mind. My answer is no. It will stay no.”

  “You haven’t heard what I had to say.” He was smart enough to step to the side. Too bad for me he didn’t walk away.

  I flicked my hand in the air. “It’s irrelevant.”

  “I’m breaking up with her.”

  That stopped me. How dare he. How dare he! This week of all weeks. Today of all days. This lifetime of all lifetimes. I couldn’t stop the burn heating the backs of my eyes and whatever look I gave him made him flinch.

  “You’re kidding me. Tell me you are not doing this to me right now, right here. We are at work.”

  “I know. But tell me you don’t remember how good we were. I was confused. The reason things aren’t working with Mel is because I miss you, Lizzie. I don’t know what happened. I wanted you then. I cared about you. I just…I got scared when you said what you did and Mel was there…”

  “Don’t finish that.” My chin wobbled. Hot cheese on toast this man who broke my heart was not going to make me cry in front of hundreds of people. No one was paying us a lick of attention. We were reporters. Working on a story. We could have been collaborating on a story, but the only collaborating going on was my brain convincing my foot not to slam into his nuts.

  It was a battle I was losing.

  “Please,” Connor said. He stepped closer to me. Still professional. Still not touching. The man must have seen my look and prized his balls to come any closer. “Tonight. One night, Lizzie. I’ll give you whatever you ask for. Whatever you need. You don’t want it, I’ll never talk to you again. Promise. I know I hurt you. I’m asking for the chance to make up for it. Give me a second chance.”

  I swiped at my cheeks. Damn him. Why couldn’t this have happened five months ago? Why couldn’t he have shown up at my door with flowers and chocolates and a bottle of win
e and talked to me about this?

  It wasn’t fair, but it didn’t mean he didn’t still have the power to twist my heart.

  I looked up and froze. My lips parted.

  Across the indoor field, Gage was staring at me. Arms crossed, helmet at his feet. He’d already ripped off his practice jersey and his pads were visible along with the blocks of muscle on his abdomen.

  Even from far away I could see smoke pluming from his ears.

  Well, screw him, too.

  I placed my hand on Connor’s arm, grinned at Gage, and beamed that same, fake grin at Connor. “I’ll be there at nine.”

  Sixteen

  Gage

  Idiots. They all are.

  Most guys are.

  But not you?

  I have my moments.

  I was most definitely having one of my most idiotic moments ever, in the history I could remember since I tried to use a fish aquarium to climb onto the top of a shed. My foot broke right through the glass, slicing all up and down my lower leg.

  Thirty stitches later and the rest of my football at the ripe old age of twelve ruined, and I was right back to being as big of a moron as that ridiculous thrill-seeking kid.

  I mean, how else was I going to see Jenny Walker’s boobs if I didn’t climb onto my shed to peer into her window?

  That was how I felt, watching Elizabeth press her hand to Connor’s arm and smile at him. It was fake, but he was too self-absorbed to see it. I didn’t even want to question how I knew it was fake, but I gave credit to Brandon. I’d seen her smile with him.

  Whatever she gave to Connor wasn’t anything close, but that didn’t mean shit.

  She touched him.

  She smiled at him and nodded and she’d agreed to something he suggested and I already knew the only thing he wanted from her.

  Coupled with the smile she flashed me, I knew exactly what he offered her.

  “Fuck.” I kicked my helmet on the ground and bent and snatched it up before it rolled too far.

  Practice had been hell.

  My week had been hell.

  Ignoring Elizabeth after essentially outing myself in Brandon’s room because I was so overwhelmed with her presence and how she seemed to fit so damn perfectly into my life had been hell.