Still Loving You

by Sheryl Lister

  “Um...no, not really. Why?”

  “I wanted you to come to my place so we can talk. I know you haven’t had dinner. I can fix something.”

  Lauren’s mind screamed, don’t do it! Malcolm had readily admitted that he didn’t want to let their attraction die down, but she continued to have reservations about starting up with him again. However, curiosity about where he lived got the best of her, and she agreed before fully considering the ramifications of her choice. “I should be ready to leave in about ten minutes. Um...” She didn’t want them to walk out together, giving anyone reasons to speculate.

  “I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.”

  His expression told her he wasn’t too fond of the idea, but she had to protect her reputation. “Thank you.”

  “See you in a few.”

  As soon as he was gone, Lauren dropped her head in her hands. “What am I doing?”

  Chapter 8

  Lauren discreetly scanned the parking lot as she walked to her car. A few players stood around talking, while others leaving passed her with a wave. She spotted Malcolm about ten spaces away getting into his car. Her phone rang as she opened the door, and she hurriedly got in and dug it out of her purse. Seeing Malcolm’s name on the display, she glanced around again. “Hey.”

  “No one can tell who you’re talking to on the phone, Lauren, so you can stop looking like you’re about to do something wrong,” Malcolm said with a laugh. “And before you say anything, there aren’t any rules or policies against us dating.”

  “I’m not thinking about that,” she lied. A guilty expression crossed her face. He had voiced her exact concerns. She knew about the no-fraternization policy between players and cheerleaders and had wondered if it extended to all staff.

  “If you say so. Anyway, I’ll meet you on the road.”

  “Okay.” She disconnected, started the car and backed out. She noticed him waiting a few hundred feet ahead. When he saw her approach, he pulled off in front of her. During the entire drive, Lauren questioned her sanity. While there were no written rules, surely this would be frowned upon. “What are you thinking, agreeing to go to his house?” she muttered. Two miles onto the freeway, traffic slowed to a crawl. This was the one thing she didn’t miss about home, and it seemed to have gotten worse over the years. It finally picked up several minutes later, and she began to have second thoughts. It would be really easy to keep going to her place. As if he read her mind, she caught his gaze in his rearview mirror, probably checking to see if she was still following. He’d said he wanted to talk, but he’d said the same thing when he showed up at her place last week. Somehow, his definition of talking differed from that of the rest of society. Not that you minded, an inner voice argued.

  She drew in a deep, calming breath. He’d mentioned cooking. They’d talk over dinner and she would leave right after. There. A good, solid plan that didn’t involve kisses. Now, if she could just follow through.

  The traffic finally lightened up and they made the rest of the drive in fifteen minutes. Lauren expected Malcolm to live in a gated community. Instead he drove into an upscale neighborhood with large, stately homes. His was located in the center of a cul-de-sac that held only five houses. Malcolm stopped in the driveway, and one of the three garage doors lifted. He gestured for her to pull into the driveway behind him.

  With daylight savings time, the sun hadn’t yet set, and she had a clear view of his magnificent Mediterranean-style home—red tile roof, archways and tile walkway. Inside the garage, she could see his motorcycle and smiled.

  Malcolm parked in the garage, got out and came toward her. “What are you smiling about?”

  “The motorcycle.”

  He glimpsed over his shoulder. “We can take a ride if you want.”

  “That’s okay.” Lauren shouldn’t have cared, but she wondered how many other women he had taken for a ride. When I get my bike, you’ll get the first ride. The memory rose unbidden and shocked her. He had made the promise years ago, but she doubted he remembered.

  “You sure? I have an extra helmet that I kept for Morgan until Omar bought her one of her own.”

  “Positive.” He made it sound as if no other woman had used it, and she felt a measure of relief. Get it together, girl! “Your home is beautiful,” she told him, needing to change the subject.

  Malcolm smiled. “Thanks. Come on in and I’ll give you a quick tour before dinner.”

  She followed him up the walk to the wooden double doors and waited for him to unlock it. He moved aside for her enter. She stopped inside the door with wide eyes and stared at the winding twin staircases that showcased an expansive second story. The highly polished wood floor in the short foyer led into a formal living room with expensive furniture and plush carpeting. A formal step-up dining area with the same wood flooring sat slightly behind the living room. He had a chef’s kitchen—equipped with every modern appliance known to man—that opened into a breakfast nook and large family room. Each space flowed into the next and was separated by huge columns. “You must do a lot of entertaining.”

  He spun around. “Why would you say that?”

  She waved her hand around. “The floor plan is so open, and it’s the perfect kind of house for lots of gatherings. How long have you lived here?”

  “Four years. And the only gatherings I have are the ones where my family comes over and the barbecue I host for a few of my teammates every year before the season starts. I don’t like a lot of people in my space.”

  Lauren smiled. “I guess you haven’t changed.”

  He met her smile with one of his own. “You know better than most how much I value my privacy. That won’t ever change.” He reached for her hand and started up one set of stairs.

  “How many bedrooms do you have?”

  “Five.”

  “Five?”

  “My brothers and sisters and I usually hang out at each other’s houses and stay overnight, so whoever stays has a place to sleep. But since they’ve all gotten married, we don’t do it as much.”

  “You have a library, too.” An open nook at the top of the stairs had been outfitted with two comfortable chairs, a small table and three filled bookshelves. They both enjoyed reading and it hadn’t been uncommon for them to spend hours on the weekend reading together. He showed her three tastefully decorated guest bedrooms, each with en suite bathrooms. The master bedroom occupied the entire opposite side of the floor. Lauren shook her head. “I think you’re taking this whole privacy thing a little far.”

  Malcolm laughed and shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t build the house.”

  “But I bet it was the thing that sealed the deal for you.”

  He gestured her forward. “I plead the Fifth.”

  She rolled her eyes as she entered the room. “Mmm-hmm.” Just like the rest of the house, he’d spared no expense. Dark, heavy furniture accentuated the space, but the big bed remained the focal point. A television had been mounted on the wall, a sophisticated sound system took up a portion of the far wall and a sitting room connected via an archway. He had a private deck, a bathroom with a spa tub and marble shower, both of which could easily fit two people, and an extensive walk-in closet. “This is beautiful, Malcolm. I thought you said you have five bedrooms.”

  “Thanks. And the other one is downstairs off the family room.” He stood there a moment just looking at her.

  “Something wrong?”

  He closed the distance between them. “No. I just...”

  “Why did you invite me here?”

  He tilted her chin until their eyes met. “Because the first thing I wanted to do when I saw you today was kiss you.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, and he kissed the words right off her lips. He drew her closer, his tongue twirling with hers and sending waves of pleasure through her. He lifted her until she felt the hard ridge of his erect
ion pressed against her center and she moaned.

  Malcolm walked over to the nearest wall and held her in place. He gripped her buttocks and brushed kisses along the shell of her ear. “Why are you doing this to me? Do you feel how much I want you, baby?”

  “I...” Her breath came in short gasps and she found it impossible to form words. But, truth be told, she wanted him, too.

  His hand feathered up her torso to her breast. “I want to touch you and watch you come apart in my arms,” he murmured.

  He captured her mouth again, and the sensations were so staggering she was three-quarters of the way to orgasm already. A kissgasm was the only way she could describe it. “Malcolm.”

  He eased back, his breathing just as ragged as hers. “I know what you’re going to say. Tell me you don’t feel this and I’ll stop.”

  Lauren stared into the eyes that had sucked her in the first day she saw him sitting in a biology class and that held her captive even now. “You know I do, but what about my job?” She wanted to call the words back as soon as they left her mouth when she saw the split second of pain that crossed his handsome face. “I’m not choosing my job over you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Malcolm didn’t respond immediately. Finally he said, “I know what you meant. What if we keep this between us until we can figure it out?”

  “Okay.” She kissed him softly, appreciating him seeing her point of view.

  He gently lowered her to her feet. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m back on the clock now and can’t be out too late.”

  “How are you breaking curfew if you’re at home?” she asked as they descended the stairs.

  “I have to follow you home.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you and I am following you home, so let it go.”

  “Fine.”

  Later, while eating, Lauren thought about their agreement, and it should have made her happy. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she was afraid they would end up just as they had eight years ago.

  * * *

  After following Lauren home, Malcolm stood beneath the warm stream flowing from his shower thinking about her and his agreement to a secret relationship. He admitted to himself that she had been right about where his thoughts had gone when she mentioned her job. A part of him still questioned whether she’d make the same choice and whether he would get the short end of the stick again. But he could no more stop his growing feelings than he could turn day to night. He finished his shower, made sure he’d turned on the alarm and slid beneath the cool, crisp sheets on his bed. The clock only read ten—early by most thirty-year-olds’ standards—but football was his life, and his longevity depended on him doing the right things.

  When he first started in the league, two of the veteran players had come to him and asked about his career aspirations. When Malcolm had voiced his desire to play for at least ten years, they immediately told him that meant eating right, cutting out all the partying and going to bed at eight thirty during the season. He’d laughed at the time, but within two months he began to see the wisdom of their advice. He’d never had a big problem when it came to eating, but he did occasionally hang out on the weekends and stay up late with some friends from college. Practices were much more grueling with no rest, so he’d known he had to make some changes or risk losing everything he had worked for since age eight.

  Malcolm still went out, but he didn’t drink alcohol and left early. And he started going to bed no later than ten. His game improved dramatically, and he’d kept the practice up until now. Several of the players who started their professional careers at the same time as Malcolm had washed out of the league in less than three years because their on-the-field performance had been negatively impacted by all of bad habits they’d adopted—partying and drinking, not eating properly, and consistently breaking curfew—landing them in trouble no team wanted to deal with. Although Cobras management didn’t check, he rarely broke curfew. The few times he had had been for family emergencies.

  He turned over and closed his eyes, but images of Lauren earlier with her head thrown back, eyes closed in an expression of pure ecstasy, wouldn’t leave him alone. As a result, he tossed and turned all night and, when the alarm went off at five forty-five the next morning, he felt no more rested than he did when he’d lain down the night before.

  Malcolm made his usual preworkout smoothie, and by the time he entered the gym, his energy level had climbed a notch or two. He hadn’t been this sluggish while working out since the time he’d pulled an all-nighter to study for a kinesiology exam in college. The twenty reps at 225 pounds he normally bench-pressed felt like twice the weight.

  “You know, you wouldn’t be this tired if you stopped fighting your feelings for a certain dietitian.”

  He almost dropped the weight. He glared up at Omar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lifted the weight once more.

  Omar waited until Malcolm completed the set. “I’m assuming you’re trying to keep you two a secret like Morgan and I did at the beginning of our relationship.” Omar had been Morgan’s first client when she left her job as an attorney for their family’s home safety company and entered the field of sports management. She’d feared that she wouldn’t be taken seriously if word got out that she was dating a client.

  Malcolm didn’t respond.

  “If that’s the case, you’re going to have to do a better job.”

  He sat up on the bench. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning you can’t look at her like she’s your favorite dessert.”

  “She just might be,” he muttered.

  Omar laughed. “That’s exactly what I told your sister when she said that to me. And you see where we ended up.”

  He jumped up from the bench and stalked across the gym with Omar’s laughter following him. The wide receiver caught up to Malcolm. “Let me know if you want to use my cabin for a short getaway.”

  Malcolm leaned against the next machine and folded his arms. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, Drummond. I shouldn’t want to talk to her, much less be with her.”

  “You’ve been feeling that way since the breakup?”

  “No. I’m not going to lie, when it first happened I never wanted to see her again. But it’s not like I’ve spent the last eight years waiting for her or wishing we could get back together.” He’d dated, had relationships that lasted for several months and had enjoyed his life. “I didn’t feel that anger again until I saw her.”

  Omar sat and did a set of leg extensions then switched places with Malcolm. He chuckled. “You seemed to have gotten over it pretty easy.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, gritting his teeth as he lifted the weight.

  “In all seriousness, Malcolm, you can’t go back. If you want her, you need to let go of the past.”

  And that was the crux of his problem. He didn’t know if he could.

  It was easier to keep his feelings and thoughts on lockdown during the weekend practices, when Lauren wasn’t at the facility. But Monday morning, she was back with her sensual curves and enticing smile, and Malcolm had to work hard to stay in control. He did a good job keeping his distance for the first half of the week. Other than polite conversation if he passed her in the hallway or the dining room, they had no other contact. By Thursday afternoon, he’d reached his limit. After practice ended, he made his way to her office, praying she didn’t have a client. As he rounded the corner, one of his teammates called out to him.

  “Hey, Gray. You headed to see Lauren?”

  Malcolm glanced over his shoulder at Carlos Jenkins, an offensive lineman. “Yeah. Just need to check in, then I’m headed home. You?”

  “Actually, I was going to do the same as you.”

  He muttered a curse under his breath.

  Before the man took a step, his
phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the display. “Guess I’ll talk to Lauren tomorrow. My agent.” Carlos answered, nodded Malcolm’s way and went in the opposite direction.

  Thank goodness. Malcolm reached her open door and stood just outside it watching Lauren for a moment. She sat behind her desk scribbling furiously on a notepad. Her hair partially covered her face, and he couldn’t recall seeing anything more alluring. He knocked on the door.

  Lauren’s head came up and she smiled. “Hey, Malcolm.”

  Her smile sent a jolt to his midsection. “Got a minute?”

  She stood and came around the desk. “Sure. Come on in.”

  He closed the door and discreetly turned the lock.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

  “Making sure no one interrupts us.” Malcolm crossed the office in three strides, hauled her into his arms and slanted his mouth over hers. What started as a sweet kiss turned hot and demanding in a nanosecond. Lauren slid her hands beneath his shirt, moving them up his abs and chest and driving him insane. She pressed her body closer and he groaned. He was quickly losing control and broke off the kiss.

  “I’m not done.” Lauren grasped the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss.

  Malcolm was two seconds away from stripping her naked, laying her down on the conference table and burying himself deep inside her until she begged him to stop. “Baby, if you don’t want everybody in our business, we need to stop, because I’m about a minute away from taking you on that table over there.”

  Lauren gasped and nearly jumped out of his arms. “Oh my goodness.”

  “Hold up a minute,” he said, tightening his grip.

  She rested her head on his chest. “Somebody could’ve come in.”

  He chuckled. “Not unless they can open locked doors.”

  Her head came up sharply. “What?” She glanced around his shoulder and stared up at him. “You locked the door?”

  “I told you I didn’t want anyone interrupting us.”