On the DL (The MVP Duet Book 1)

by Laramie Briscoe

  As she climbs the steps in front of me, I clench my fists, telling my body to calm down. We’ve got all afternoon and all night. I want to savor this, I want to make it better than it was when we were teens, getting fifteen minutes here and there. I want her to see what kind of a man I am now and fucking not be able to live without me.

  Without a doubt, I know I’ll never be able to let her go again.

  Twenty-One

  Malone

  His mouth is manipulating mine in ways that should be illegal in all the states as well as half the world as we lay in his bed later, kissing for all we’re worth. At some point our bathing suits came off, and he went to town on my neck, all the way down my chest, to my ribcage and now my stomach. Which is where he is right now, gazing up at me.

  “What are you doing?” I’m breathless, sure I know where that mouth of his will be next, but I don’t want to make assumptions.

  “I’m feeling a little hungry,” he pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. A move that is so undeniably sexy I want to give him the praise he deserves. I mean I feel myself get wetter as I watch his tongue stroke his lip.

  “Are you? What are you hungry for?” I play along, twirling my hard nipple in between my fingers, hoping it spurs him to do what I know he’s going to do.

  “What am I always hungry for, sweetness?”

  “Donuts,” I answer quickly, not even ashamed to be joking with him during this pivotal moment.

  He chuckles, his warm breath fanning against my skin. “Figure you’ll taste just as sweet.” He moves down my body, pushing my thighs apart and dives in.

  The Slade of our teenage years had been good at what he did, the Slade today? He’s got a fucking doctorate in going downtown. It feels like he has two mouths as he flicks his tongue against my clit and lightly pushes his finger into me.

  “Oh shit.” I push against him, grabbing hold of anything I can, which right now is his hair and a pillow beside me. I use them as leverage as I rock against his attack.

  Glancing down, I see his dark eyes staring up at me, and as he works my body, our eyes stay connected. It’s the most spiritual sexual experience I’ve ever had. It’s almost as if he wills me to an orgasm. His eyes get darker, tongue starts flicking faster, and finger fucks me harder. I’m struck stupid as my body let’s go and I begin shaking against him. Not able to help it, I start to close my thighs, but he holds them tight as I feel his jaw working double-time.

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh my God.” I heave against him one more time before falling back against the pillow, my heart pounding, head swimming, and body racing. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

  “I have some tricks you haven’t seen yet.” He grins as he wipes his mouth, getting up off the bed.

  I watch as he goes across the room, reaching into one of his duffel bags, pulling out a box of condoms. “If you’re not cool with this, please let me know.” He gives his cock two strokes as he walks toward me.

  “I’m completely cool with this.” I give him what I hope is a sexy smile as his knees hit the side of the bed.

  Savage

  Going down on Malone has just now become my favorite thing in the world to do. I’ve had some women, don’t get me wrong, I’m not bragging, but in my line of work, you do get some women. And none of them have been as passionate or responsive as she just was. It’s the biggest turn on I’ve had in a long time. I’m hard, my balls are heavy between my legs, and I’m fucking ready to go.

  As I get to her, she takes over, helping me put the condom on. “I wish I was in a spot where I could do this nice and sweet,” I groan as her hand encircles me.

  “We did that the first time we did this,” she reminds me.

  I think back to the night we lost our virginity. It hadn’t been perfect, but it’d been ours. It’d taken us hours. “That was pretty slow, huh?”

  She nods. “Now? Now I like it a little fast, a little rough.” She gives me a wink.

  “Then I’ll see what I can do to make this good for you.”

  Pulling her hips to the edge of the bed, I plunge deep, bottoming out on the first thrust. Together she and I move, executing the push and pull of an age-old rhythm that neither one of us seems to have forgotten. Gripping her hips, I hike her up, tilting her to my liking as I thrust and withdraw, thrust and withdraw.

  “You feel so fucking good.”

  I don’t even recognize the voice coming from my body, don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying to her. All I know is that entering her feels like coming home and I never want to leave. Whatever I’ve been searching for all these years, it’s right here. There’s a peace inside her that I haven’t felt since I left. It’s one I don’t want to forget, and something I don’t want skimp on the importance of. This right here, her wrapped around me, her accepting me deep in her body is everything I’ve dreamed of.

  “Faster, Slade.” She pushes against me, speeding me up.

  I answer her request, putting my thumb on her clit, splaying my palm on her stomach, as I work to bring her to orgasm again. I’m almost there, can feel the storm raging inside me, churning in a circle. “I’m close,” I warn her, short breaths helping me keep my rhythm.

  “Me too,” she answers, bringing her hand down to tangle with mine, and together we touch her, getting her off, right as I feel my body tighten and then I let go of the tension I’ve had in myself. We both scream as I let my mind blank, let my body move on its own, and revel in the fact that I’ve just had something with this woman I never thought I’d have again.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as I wipe the sweat from my brow. “Maybe we shoulda had candles and romance.” I lean in, kissing her softly.

  “Or maybe we shoulda had each other, which we did, and it was perfect in my book.” She wraps her arms around me, holding me tight.

  Right then I close my eyes and hope to God I never have to let her go again.

  Twenty-Two

  Malone

  Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling as I follow Slade down the steps of the Wasp’s stadium. My hand is in his and I’m aware of the stares we’re receiving from the crowd. It’s a tangible force I can feel as we descend to the seats Slade’s parents have for every home game.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he assures me as we make it down to where they are.

  His mom, Janice, looks up at us, a big smile spreading across her face. “Malone, it’s so good to see you.” She stands up, opening her arms and embraces me tightly.

  Janice always treated me like her own, and I’ve missed her. One of the things I’m most sad about is the fact I lost touch with her. “It’s good to see you too, hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Not at all, Steve couldn’t come to this game, he’s working today, so there was an extra seat,” she mentions Slade’s dad. “I’m more than happy for you to take it.”

  She lets me go, then quickly takes Slade into her arms. Just looking at her, I can tell she’s happy to have him home, for however long he’s here.

  “You ladies want something to drink? I’m going to get myself something.”

  Armed with our orders, he takes the stairs two at a time back up, causing me to wince and hoping he knows what he’s doing. When we have a seat, I wait for the awkwardness to come, but it doesn’t.

  “I’m so glad you’re home, I know your mom has missed you so much.” Janice pats my hand as she leans into the seat beside me.

  “It’s good to be home.”

  Those words aren’t a lie, which is surprising to me since I’d been so reluctant to come back home in the first place. The truth is, I’m finding an identity here I never had before - a place where I’m valued, people know my name and they appreciate my work. In L.A., that wasn’t something I got on a human, down-to-earth level. It was always about being better than everyone else, being the best at what you did. There’s not that struggle here. Here it’s about working hard and putting out the best product you can.

  In Willow’s Gap
there aren’t smoke and mirrors. Not everyone who walks around downtown knows how to contour their cheekbones, they don’t wear hair extensions, and they don’t go get lip injections on lunch. Here, everything is real. I’m beginning to see that so am I.

  “How’s Slater doing? He never tells us and we hardly ever see him. He’s either rehabbing or with you. I’m worried about him.” She wrings her hands in her lap. “What if he doesn’t recover completely from this? How will he handle it? Who will be there to help him? I hope I’m not stepping on any toes when I say I hope it’s you.”

  Giving her a smile, I speak softly. “I hope it’s me too, but we’re still new to this, still trying to figure out where we fit – if we even do.”

  “You fit; I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, Malone. Money and fame only get you so far. There’s not been a real smile on his face for years.”

  She excuses herself to go talk to a friend of hers, leaving me alone. Intrigued by her statement, I pull my phone out of my pocket and do a quick search of Savage Harlow. Immediately a large amount of pictures pop up, some from when he’s playing, some posed, some from red carpet events he’s done. All of them have one thing in common – the fake smile. She’s right, it doesn’t reach his eyes, doesn’t make the dimple he sometimes has in his cheek pop. He’s been happy, but he’s not been happy, and I can’t help but feel like I’m a source of that.

  “Here ya go.” He hands me an ice cold lemonade as he has a seat next to me. “Are you checkin’ out how hot I am? Getting you a new lock screen for your phone?” he teases as he glances down.

  “Funny, Slade. Real funny.” I lean into his shoulder, resting my head there.

  “I thought so.” He brings his arm around me, and even in the heat I love that he’s being touchy with me.

  We watch the game for a full inning, cheering on Crafton when he comes up to bat and when he makes an amazing play at third. It’s a full inning before I work up the nerve to ask him what I really want to.

  “Why aren’t you really happy, Slade?”

  Savage

  I almost drop the bottle of water I’m holding when she asks me the question that’s obviously been weighing on her for a while. “I am.” I give her my best smile.

  “You may be now, but you haven’t been.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, showing me pages and pages of pictures of myself.

  “Come with me.” I grab her hand. “We’ll be right back, Mom.”

  Not even glancing around to see who might be watching, I pull us through the crowd of people to where we stand in the walkway, farthest away from the seats. There’s a breeze blowing, lifting her shirt slightly, throwing a piece of her hair into my face. Pushing it back, I turn to face her, leaning against the railing.

  “Life is hard sometimes, sweetness.”

  She laughs, long and throaty. “That’s your epiphany, Slade? Life is hard? I’m living in my teenage bedroom. I think I got that.”

  “My life is hard in ways others can’t imagine.” I fold my arms across my chest. “There are so many parts of my life that come together to make a whole. If I fuck up, or make a mistake in choosing to endorse something, it affects everyone I have on my payroll. It affects my teammates, my family, and by extension, you. That’s a lot for a man to carry. The burden sometimes makes the happiness harder to have. Doesn’t mean I’d change much about my life, but you want me honest? This is me honest.”

  I wait, wondering what she’s going to say, wondering if I’ve laid too much out there for her. “You’ve got me.”

  “Do I? Do I really? Do I trust you with all this shit? There’s so much in my head and in my heart, it keeps me awake at night, stresses me the fuck out, and makes me wonder if I’m doing anything right.”

  She comes to stand in front of me, weaseling her way between my legs, folding herself around my body. “You’re doing it all right. I want you to know I see how hard you’re working to come back, how much you’re involved in your recovery. Not everyone would be like you.”

  “Anyone who wants to come back and be the best player they can be, would,” I argue. “But honestly that has nothing to do with my happiness.”

  “What does? What makes your smile go all the way to your eyes? What makes you feel a warmth you don’t get anywhere else? What do you think about when you’re lonely?”

  Killing me, she’s fucking killing me. The bad part about it? She doesn’t get it. Truly doesn’t get it. I’m beginning to see why she ran in the first place. It’s obvious as fuck that she has no idea how much I care about her, how much she means to me.

  “You, sweetness. I think of you. All day. Every day. Even when I should be concentrating on a million other things, you’re on my mind.”

  She grabs hold of my shirt, pulling her body into mine, biting her lip as she gazes up at me with those green eyes of hers. “Really?”

  “Really. You’re what makes the smile reach my eyes, you’re what gets me through the hardest of the days. Always have been,” I admit, fisting her hair. “Always have been, even when I didn’t want you to, which is why it’ll fuckin’ kill me if this ends badly.”

  “I don’t want it to end badly,” she whispers as she stands up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine. “Promise me you’ll give me a chance in the end, if I freeze, promise me you’ll give me a chance.”

  “Why would you freeze?” Just the thought of it makes my heart still, my stomach clench.

  “Because I’m a mess. I still need to figure out my life, and I would hate for people to think that I got back with you after you found fame because I want the money and notoriety too. I need to prove that I’m worth it. For you and for me. But I want to do that, with you and for you. Because I want to be the better person this time. The person who’s not afraid.”

  The fact that she even thinks that? Makes my chest throb. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and if other people can’t see that, then fuck them.”

  “Fuck them?” she grins.

  “Fuck. Them. I promise, I won’t let you freeze.”

  She throws her head back laughing as we hear the crack of a bat. Turning around, I see my brother launch one over the right field wall. “Yeah, Six!!” I hoot and holler for him, hoping he knows how much I appreciate this time I’m getting to spend.

  “Let’s go back.” She tilts her head to where my mom is still sitting by herself. “And promise me, at least for the rest of the day, these smiles of yours will be the real thing.”

  “Always the real thing with you, sweetness. Always.”

  Twenty-Three

  Savage

  First thing in the morning, it’s really shitty to see an email from your agent, especially when you’re away from the team nursing an injury. The next shitty thing you don’t want to see, is your phone light up with an incoming call, his smiling face staring back at you, when you know this isn’t going to be good.

  Immediately I have that feeling of doom, like maybe they’ve canceled my contract. Then I tell myself that’s stupid. That I need to put a lid on the gloom and doom. Just because I’m having a rough year doesn’t mean they’re going to turn their back on me. Not everyone will give up when it gets tough and choices have to be made.

  “Slater, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days, but you’ve been ignoring my messages. There’s some shit we need to talk about.”

  Still not helping me feel secure in whatever this is. But I go with it. “You’ve got me now, what do you need, Pete?”

  “You been seeing a girl in your hometown?” The question isn’t so much asked as stated.

  Shit. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. So many people are up our asses as public figures. I wanted to keep Malone to myself for a little while longer. It doesn’t look like that’s going to work though.

  “I’m sending you some pics that are going to be released tomorrow on a bunch of gossip sites. It’s up to you if you want to get in front of this, I just thought you should know. It’s a file,
so let me know when you have time to look it over.”

  We get off the line, and I wait for the email to come through. When it does, and I start to download it, I curse loudly. They’ve gotten pics of us from when we were teenagers. And they have pics of us from when we went out a few days ago. Whoever this is, they must live here, and that pisses me off. One of the reasons I came home was to have some privacy, not to have people plaster my personal life all over every tabloid at the grocery checkout lane.

  There are pictures of us from our senior year, the night I proposed to her, and a couple of outings we had on the lake, but what worries me are the pictures of us obviously taken without us being aware of it. There’s also pictures of us individually. Her opening the bakery, me climbing the steps to the apartment I’m staying in at my parents. It’s a huge invasion of privacy and one I’m really not taking too kindly.

  Hitting the button to connect back to him, I wait impatiently for him to answer. “Pete, this is bullshit.”

  “Agreed, someone has way too much access to you. Typically I would tell you not to worry about it, but with you being in your hometown, where you’re not able to blend in, I think some damage control needs to be done. At least to get some of the heat off of her. The last thing you need is someone checking up on her and finding out things that are private to her.”

  “Find out who did this,” I tell him. He has carte blanche for everything I’ve ever needed him to do.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Should I be worried that she’s doing PR for my non-profit?” Honestly that’s the last thing I should be worried about, but in my position, I tend to worry about others first. That business I have to keep going? It’s the first thing on my mind.

  “I’ll put out some feelers and get back to you, but her opening that bakery at four in the morning by herself? That needs to stop. Either someone needs to be there with her, or she needs an escort.”