Lexington and 42nd (The Off Field Series #1)

by Kim Carmody

  Will lurched forward, his arm reaching around my waist as I threw myself away from him, a hideously girly squeak leaving me. He was too quick though, rolling to catch my hand easily. I struggled, squirming as I held the phone above my head. It was useless however, and he pulled me to him effortlessly, his body weight holding me to the mattress.

  “Give it up Em, you’re toast.” The ass was grinning above me, clearly relishing this one-sided game.

  I eventually did, my body stilling as I realized the fight was in vain. With two broken legs and one arm tied behind his back, Will could still overpower me any day of the week. I watched with fascination as he caught his breath, his smile fading, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He wore a gray t-shirt that stretched tight across his chest and my eyes followed a vein that protruded from the top, running to where his pulse beat steadily at his neck. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and run my tongue along it.

  The room was painfully quiet now, our breathing the only noise. Will’s eyes, which had been focused firmly on the headboard above us, eventually met mine. All my senses were heightened by his nearness. I was so alert to the warmth of his thighs as they encased mine, the way his jaw clenched when my breath caught. He had a pained look on his face, but I couldn’t read its meaning, and when he closed his eyes for a beat, drawing in a deep breath, I instantly missed the heat of his stare.

  He had my arms pinned above my head and his grip on me loosened ever so slightly as his hands slowly rubbed up and down the length of them. I felt my skin bloom with goose bumps, unable to stop from sucking in my bottom lip as my skin caught fire.

  Will’s eyes lit up when he spoke, his voice pure gravel. “This is how I’ve been wanting you Bambi.”

  I could do nothing but watch him as his eyes followed the path of his hands along my arms, down my sides, over my rib cage to rest on my hips.

  His eyes met mine again. “Not in a nightclub, not on a football field. Right. Here.”

  My breath caught as his fingers squeezed ever so slightly. “What ever happened to just friends?” I whispered.

  “Fuck friends. I’ve got too many as it is.”

  We were both silently watching one another. I knew what he was thinking; I was thinking it too. This was it. Last week’s fight and yesterday’s promise of friendship held nothing compared to this moment. I was a fool to think I could ever say no to him when it really came down to it. We had passed that point in Texas the second his hand passed the hem of my dress.

  “Tell me you want this.” It was a request for permission, and there was barely contained restraint behind his words, the tic in his jaw giving away how close he was to letting go. There was no question for me, I absolutely, one hundred percent wanted this. I needed it, and right then and there, I couldn’t have cared less about the consequences.

  I nodded, my chest heaving from anticipation.

  He leaned in slowly, running his lips along my neck, not kissing, just teasing.

  “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

  I swallowed, my voice coming out a whisper against his skin. “I want this. You, I want you.”

  Will groaned into my neck, his tongue catching my earlobe between his teeth and biting down. His hands were everywhere, like he didn’t know where to start and all I could think was finally, finally this is happening. My back arched off the bed as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot on my neck.

  “You like my mouth there?”

  “I think I’ll like your mouth everywhere.”

  We both jumped when the phone rang, piercing the silence of the room. He sat up, wild eyes darting first to his phone on the bedside table, then to the clock.

  “Fuck.”

  He leaned over, snatching it up to answer.

  “Coach.”

  I watched as he looked down at me, eyes despairing before running a hand over his face.

  “I know, sorry, my alarm didn’t go off. I’ll be down in two minutes.”

  Will hung up the phone, his head falling backward. “Fuuuckkkk.” His eyes met mine. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea what time it was. I was supposed to meet Coach five minutes ago for breakfast.”

  I nodded, trying like hell to calm my frantic pulse…and the party in my pants. “It’s all right, its fine. I um…I should probably be getting ready anyway.”

  He dropped his head to my belly, growling as his giant hands wrapped around my waist. “No, it’s not all right. Not at all.” He stayed like that for a few seconds, trying to pull himself together.

  Sitting up, he pushed himself backward, stepping off the bed. I scrambled to sit, watching as he yanked his shorts off and hopped into his jeans. It felt sort of awkward now—there was something about unfinished business in bed that tended to make you feel significantly shyer around the other person than if you actually had seen it through. Maybe it was because the sexual tension still hung in the air with no relaxed afterglow to take the edge off.

  He disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the taps go on, then off just as quickly. He came out holding a handful of toiletries that were shoved carelessly into his bag, and proceeded to throw other random items in.

  “Here.” I pulled his phone charger from the wall.

  He turned, looking as awkward as I felt. “Thanks.”

  I watched as he zipped up his bag, doing a last check of the room before his eyes came to rest on me. We stared at each other a beat, unsure of what to say.

  He came and sat down on the bed, his hand rubbing my arm. “I can’t believe I’m leaving you like this.”

  I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. “When football calls I guess….”

  His hand went up to massage the back of his neck as he huffed out a laugh, nodding his head. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week right? When we’re back from training?”

  I nodded, smiling. “No doubt.”

  He stood to go and I followed, feeling strange watching him leave from the bed.

  “Well…I’ll see you later.”

  I managed a small smile. “Yep, bye.” I hated that my voice came out a squeak.

  Will looked at me a moment longer, then walked out.

  The second the door closed I fell back on the bed, muffling a frustrated scream into the pillow. I lay there for a split second trying to calm myself, taunted by the lingering effects of our intimacy.

  TV. That’s what I needed, mindless TV. As I fumbled around, searching for the remote there was a knock at the door. Jumping up, I raced to peer through the peep hole to check if it was him. God, how was it possible to look that good even through a distorted magnifying lens?

  I opened the door. “Did you forget so—”

  Will pushed the door wider with one arm, maneuvering me up against the wall with the other, his bag dropping with a heavy thud to the floor. He cupped my neck in both hands, breathing heavily, his eyes darting all over my face.

  “Come with me to the ESPN event next week.”

  “What?”

  “The ESPN event, come with me.”

  “Will…I can’t do that.”

  He nodded frantically. “Yes, you can. You have to go anyway, so just come as my date.”

  “I can’t. You know I can’t…we’ve talked about this before.”

  He shook his head, clearly frustrated I wasn’t giving him the answer he was looking for. “No one else has to know, but we’ll know. I’ll pick you up, the car can do separate drop offs, and I promise I’ll behave. We’ll leave early and go out for dinner someplace quiet, private.”

  “Will…I…”

  “Just say yes. We’ll figure the rest out later.” He bent his head to look at me.

  “Please? I really don’t want to beg, but I will.”

  I looked back at him, wanting everything this man was offering and more, yet so aware it was the wrong thing to do.

  I sighed, hearing the words leave my mouth before I’d fully made up my mind. “All right. I’ll go.’”

  His body went
slack as he let out the breath he’d been holding and laughed. “Thank God. This could have been more awkward than before if you’d said no.”

  I laughed too, nodding. “Yeah, that was kind of awkward.”

  “I’m sorry.” His head bent to nuzzle my collarbone, his voice muffled. “I shouldn’t have left without kissing you.”

  And then he did kiss me. His lips moved against mine, soft yet determined, coaxing my mouth open. I obliged, kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, unable to keep from grabbing hold of his hair, pulling him as close as possible. He pulled my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking, causing my body to bow against his. I felt my legs sag, and then I was being held up by him, his arm around my waist, pulling me against his body. I sucked on his tongue, catching it between my teeth and eliciting a strangled moan.

  He pulled back, his eyes closed, panting, and rested his forehead against mine.

  “I have to go, I don’t want to, but…”

  I nodded. “I know, I know, you should go.”

  He kissed me again, this time inhaling deeply, as if he was committing our kiss to memory.

  “We’ll talk about next week.”

  I nodded, my entire knowledge of the Oxford English Dictionary seemingly vacating my brain.

  He leaned in, placing one last kiss on my lips. “Totally worth the wait.” And with his trademark grin, dimples and all, he left for the second time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Elation, cloud nine, pure joy. These were all words that could have described my mood the following week. Who knew that I would have such a reaction to one kiss? Julia had been right—spine tingling, toe curling kisses did exist, and they were dished out by none other than Will Jensen. A man who, at this point in time, was interested in giving his kisses to me.

  In addition to that, things at work were fantastic following the success of the GCP. Mark had handed over some bigger projects for me to own now that he had confidence in my ability to manage them. And best of all, Dana was back, her father out of the woods and on the mend.

  Will and the team had flown out of Florida to Arizona for a week of high altitude training, and were due back this afternoon in time for the annual partners welcome, a relaxed party where all the clients were given the opportunity to mingle with Warriors royalty; Will Jensen their king.

  We had messaged a few times throughout the week, resulting in me developing a somewhat disturbing attachment to my phone.

  He sent me a few texts about going to the ESPY’s, mostly to make sure I hadn’t chickened out I think, but my favorites were the random thoughts he would share, popping up at all hours of the day.

  Will: Wrestling Buck at training today wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as it was with you.

  Me: Maybe that’s because you’ve finally learned to pick on someone your own size.

  Will: No, no, I don’t think that’s it. We might just be better wrestling buddies. Maybe we could wrestle again next week?

  Me: Maybe. But you’ll need to be tied down or something…so it’s fair.

  Will: That is absolutely, 100% fine with me. Am also open to being blindfolded.

  Or just last night.

  Do you think you could send me a photo of those cute pajamas of yours? I miss them.

  To which I replied with a photo of them laid out on my bed.

  Do you think you could send me one with them on?

  I think that is absolutely out of the question, Will.

  Really? But you wore them so well.

  Still not going to happen.

  Then maybe you could just send me a photo of you…without the pajamas?

  Will! NO!

  I was on cloud nine virtually round the clock, however every so often I’d be working away at my desk or standing on a subway platform daydreaming mildly inappropriate thoughts of Will, when a seed of doubt would creep in around the edges, causing a minor panic attack that would leave me short of breath, clammy from cold sweats. The fear that had halted me from going near Will in the first place was still an ever-present danger, only now it was hidden beneath the memories of our numerous interactions, the many times we had connected so easily. I knew my feelings for Will were overshadowing the very real issue of what would happen to me if we were found out.

  Not unlike my father, in fact probably because of him, I had always felt a well-ingrained sense of responsibility, a need to do what was right for the whole, to be selfless in my decisions and put others first. And this thing with Will was the complete opposite of putting others first. In fact, I was pretty certain that not only would it ruin my integrity and quite possibly send me home early, it might very well jeopardize everything others around me had worked so hard to build. I had been given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with the only caveat being that I represent the club well, and I was pretty certain this thing with Will wasn’t quite what they had in mind.

  This knowledge was also coupled with reality, the understanding that even though I knew Will was a good guy, that he genuinely liked me and that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, there was still a high likelihood that things would fizzle out, the initial attraction—from him anyway—would wane and he would soon be ready to move on. This, more than anything else, worse even than the fear of being found out by the club, was what could send a chill down my spine in the middle of a hot summer’s day.

  To overcome these panic attacks I reasoned with myself in a way that only females can in these situations. I created a new, better version of reality. One where I was fine being the easy-going, carefree girl. If things with Will didn’t work out, I’d be fine, I’d have a New York love affair under my belt, a story to tell when I went home, and I’d be on my way. Besides, I told myself, I was moving back to the other side of the world in less than twelve months, a fun-filled secret love affair was exactly what I, a twenty-five-year-old independent woman, needed. Will would end our secret little fling with his trademark charm, we’d smile, share a few flirtatious parting words, and he would remember me as that great Aussie girl he’d spent some time with in the summer of 2014. Not the howling, heartbroken wreck rocking back and forth in the corner. Noooo, not her, she didn’t exist in my new reality.

  So it was with this attitude that I headed to the bar in downtown Manhattan, in my new dress, bubbling with anticipation and excitement to see Will. I was a little late, and the party was well and truly underway. The deep timbers that lined the walls of the space gave it a distinctly earthy tone, setting off the black concrete of the bar. The music hummed a steady, deep beat, a constant pulse for the noisy crowd, almost like it was carrying everyone into the night as one.

  Buck spotted me at the same time I did him, throwing his head back to howl, “Emmmmmmaaaaa! Come here my favorite little Aussie.” A smile broke across my face as I laughed at the giant linebacker I was beginning to think of as a friend.

  He was standing at a table with a few of the guys from the team, some I knew, some I didn’t, and elbowed a couple aside to let me in.

  “Boys, you remember Emma, our lady guest from daown undah.” I cringed at his attempt at an Australian accent.

  Squeezed in around a table of players, I felt like a kitten trapped in a truckload of cattle. These men were truly huge up close. I was eye level with a bicep that was easily as wide as my head. The bicep in question leaned across me and punched Buck in the arm.

  “Hey Bobbie, what the hell?” Buck leaned over me, getting all up in his grill…or something. I was just concentrating on not getting squashed.

  “Dude. Is this the Emma?” His head twitched toward me as he attempted a terribly unsubtle do you understand my secret message look with his eyes.

  Buck grinned, lifting his beer to his lips. “Yep, the one and only.”

  Bobbie turned to me. “Girl, you and me, we needa talk.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds serious.”

  “Oh it is, it’s a matter of Super importance. If you catch my drift.”

  I looked at him blankly, no clue what he wa
s referring to.

  “Super. As in Super Bowl.”

  “Oh! Yes, I get it. Sorry.”

  Bobbie shook his head in disgust while I made a mental note to add Super to my list of football lingo. He leaned in conspiratorially, draping his giant beast-like arm over my shoulders.

  “Now, word on the street is you’ve been holdin’ out on my main man Jensen.”

  “What?” My eyes shot to Bobbie’s in horror.

  “Hey, now, calm down it’s not that bad.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Yet. But that man’s form is seriously unsteady. His head’s been here, there and everywhere the past month.” Bobbie put his beer down and moved to face me. “Ever. Since. You. Arrived.” He accented each word with a poke to my shoulder.

  Somehow the words got through loud and clear, even as I felt the rush of blood to my head, sending piercing pain to my ears. Oblivious, Bobbie continued, clutching his stomach at the hilarity of it all. “You should’a seen him one mornin’ in the locker room, he was all ‘Back off, she’s mine, if anyone fucks the Aussie it’s gonna be me’ and shit.”

  I shook my head, gaping at the giant in front of me. I’m surprised he heard my voice over the crowd. “He said that?”

  “Yep. Hey, Buck.” I dodged another punch. “Doesn’t Jensen have a thing for this one?”

  Buck grinned. “My man’s got it bad for you, little Aussie. But I think you already know that.”

  I feigned a laugh, hopefully they were drunk enough for it to be plausible.

  If anyone fucks the Aussie, it’s gonna be me.

  I felt sick.

  “Guys, it doesn’t matter either way. Nothing is going to happen—I work for the Warriors.”

  Bobbie laughed again, his playful slap on my back sending champagne flying from my glass. “Emma, trust me, no one’s gonna judge you for going there.” One arm went back around my shoulder, the other waving through the air as he stared off at some imaginary vision. “Think of it as taking one for the team, if you will—your contribution to the Super Bowl. He just needs one night with you, get you outta his system and boom! His head’s back in the game. Trust me girl, I seen it before with him. It’s all he needs.”