Hard Tackle: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Jessica Ashe

  “Take your shirt off,” I ordered.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Not really,” I lied.

  I couldn’t help but be a little curious about what he looked like under his tight t-shirt. Even with a knife wound in his side, he’d still be many multiples more appealing than any man I’d ever been with.

  “Do you even know what you’re doing?” Denton asked. “Or do you just want to see me naked?”

  “I’ve had first aid training,” I replied quickly, before thinking it through. “My school made me take classes.”

  Denton grabbed hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and went to pull it up over his head, but he barely moved it before grimacing in pain. The shirt had stuck to his wound and needed peeling off.

  “Let me do it,” I said, walking over and trying to pull his arms off his shirt.

  “I’m quite capable of removing my own shirt,” Denton insisted. “I’ve done it many times before.”

  “And I’ve undressed men many times before,” I said cheekily. Never one like you though.

  Denton laughed, but the convulsion in his stomach made him moan in pain. “Okay, today’s your lucky day. You get to undress me. Savor the moment. Not many women get to experience this.”

  “From what I’ve heard, quite a few women get to experience it.”

  “Good point. Alright, not many women this week have experienced it. What can I say, I’ve been busy with work.”

  I took hold of the bottom of the shirt, careful to avoid the patches soaked in blood, and gently pulled it up towards his neck. Denton grimaced loudly as the shirt peeled away from his wound but he didn’t stop me.

  Once the shirt was clear of the wound, I reached up as high as I could go, but couldn’t get the shirt up over his head. He was too tall, and couldn’t bend over to make it easy on me.

  “I thought you said you were experienced at taking shirts off men,” Denton said, while the shirt covered his face.

  “They’re usually a little more cooperative,” I replied.

  Denton reached up with the arm from his good side and grabbed my wrist, holding it there for a few seconds, before moving on to the t-shirt and lifting it up over his head.

  Now I had a clear, unobstructed view of Denton Russell. He was right--I was lucky. There was only one tattoo, but it covered a large part of his chest, and extended onto his arms all the way down to his wrists.

  If the image was supposed to symbolize something, I had no idea what. Perhaps it was like those paintings psychiatrists made you look at and asked you what you saw. If you pictured a vagina then you had mommy issues, or something like that.

  I couldn’t decide whether I actually liked the tattoo. Generally, I thought tattoos were horrible, pointless things, but I’d never really examined one up close like this before. The ink spread over the contours of the muscles defining a firm chest, and tight abs, like the type you saw on the front of men’s magazines. I’d always assumed they were faked or photoshopped, but the view in front of me now was real enough.

  “You’re supposed to be looking at the wound,” Denton pointed out.

  “I am,” I lied.

  I tore my eyes away from the perfect male body in front of me, and poured some alcohol onto a cloth and wiped the blood away from around the wound. The knife had torn a nasty gash in the skin, but it hadn’t gone in deep enough to cause any internal damage.

  “This is going to hurt,” I said, as I prepared to rub the alcohol directly on the open wound.

  “You’re not the first woman to say that after getting me naked,” Denton joked.

  “Am I the first woman this week?”

  Denton laughed loudly, forgetting--or not caring--that doing so caused him immense pain. “You’ve a wicked sense of humor on you. I think I’m going to enjoy having you around.”

  “You might not be saying that in a second,” I said, as I pressed the alcohol soaked cloth against his skin.

  Denton didn’t scream, but his hand gripped my arm tightly letting me know just how much discomfort I was causing him. His flesh on my arm sent electricity sparking through my body, but not from how hard he was holding me.

  Now I knew why all those women fell for him. He actually did have a raw animal magnetism to him. His touch sent sparks dancing across the surface of my skin.

  I tried to keep my eyes focused on the wound. At least that stopped me getting overly aroused as my fingers brushed against his abs. Once the wound was clean I put the cloth down and Denton relaxed.

  “That hurts like hell,” he snarled.

  “You didn’t even notice getting stabbed and yet you make a fuss at a little bit of alcohol.”

  “I don’t notice pain when the adrenaline’s flying through my system. I wouldn’t be much of a fighter if I did.”

  “You’re not supposed to be a fighter,” I pointed out. “You’re supposed to be the CEO of a large company.”

  “Everyone needs a hobby.”

  I laughed and shook my head. It wasn’t until later I realized that the laugh was genuine and not part of the act I was putting on for his benefit.

  “You need stitches,” I said.

  “I’ll be fine. Cuts heal eventually.”

  “This isn’t a cut, it’s a stab wound. Let’s go the hospital now. I’m guessing you have expensive insurance; might as well use it.”

  “No hospitals,” Denton insisted, making it clear that was the end of the conversation.

  “Fine. I’ll cover it up for now. You’ll change your mind when the wound keeps coming open.”

  “Well if you’re going to undress me every time I bleed, that might not be so bad.”

  I looked up from the wound and saw him smiling at me, but I had no idea if he was joking or not. Either way, playing around with him was a surefire way of gaining his trust. It’s what Lois would want me to do.

  “Just try not to get stabbed on the leg next time,” I replied. “I don’t get down on my knees in front of a man without at least a nice meal first.”

  I took some Steri-Strips from the first aid kit and bandaged up the wound as best I could, but he was still bleeding.

  “You’ll need to clean the wound again in the morning,” I said, handing Denton the alcohol. “And no, I will not be there to do it for you.”

  “Not even if I buy you a nice meal?” Denton joked.

  “Not even if you buy me the restaurant.”

  Denton insisted on staying in the office for a few more hours, but he called for a car to take me home. I tried one more time to get him to go to the hospital, but he was more stubborn than any man I had ever met. Most men had a touch of that in them, but I didn’t know many who would refuse to go to the hospital after being stabbed.

  The truth was, I didn’t know many men like Denton, period. During my briefings before starting this operation, Denton had been made out to be a two-dimensional bad boy thug, running daddy’s businesses by day and his crime empire by night. When he wasn’t working, he was playing with a string of models and actresses.

  On the surface, everything I’d seen today fit that description. I hadn’t seen him with any women yet, but he’d been busy with work all day. He’d worked in the office all day and then spent his evening beating people up for not repaying their loans.

  But there was more to him than that. He wasn’t shallow. One look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm that. Denton had a sense of humor, and if I didn’t know better I could swear there was a layer of compassion in there somewhere too.

  He treated me with respect at least, and that was more than I could say for at least one of my former bosses. Some important men were excellent at putting on a show in front of the crowds, but spend time alone with them and things became unpleasant quickly.

  Denton wasn’t like that. But I shouldn’t underestimate him. He’d beaten someone bloody right in front of my eyes, and I didn’t doubt that he was capable of much worse.

  Denton was dangerous in more ways than on
e. He was a threat to those who crossed him, but he was also dangerous for those who got close to him. Just look at what happened to his last girlfriend.

  Whatever I did, I couldn’t allow myself to get too close to Denton. I had to maintain an emotional distance for the sake of my own sanity. That had seemed so easy when Lois and I had discussed it in the safe confines of the office, but now I worried that it wouldn’t be so straightforward.

  Denton had a way of pulling you towards him. I just hoped I had the strength to resist.

  Chapter Six

  Denton

  That hadn’t gone exactly as planned. Served me right for trying to put on a show.

  I’d encouraged Perry to come at me with his knife, but my attempt at casually deflecting him only succeeded in sending the knife tearing through my skin.

  Perry sent me a message apologizing, but it wasn’t his fault. I’d agreed to let him off with a beating instead of repaying his debt, and it had been my idea to take a few blows in the fight as well.

  All to test Chloe’s resolve and loyalty. That’s what I told myself anyway, but that didn’t explain why I let Perry punch me. I could have tested Chloe without getting a beating myself, but I wanted to look like the hard man in front of her.

  Perhaps I’d even wanted her to look after me, although I could hardly have predicted the stab wound or that she would have basic first aid training.

  There was a lot about Chloe that I hadn’t predicted. The way she’d dressed tonight had been out of this world. I couldn’t get the mental image out of her out of my mind, and I’d only been half joking when I teased her about getting me naked.

  Chloe was going to make a damn good assistant. I’d have to give it a few days to make sure she handled tonight’s events with the appropriate level of discretion, but I had complete and utter confidence in her.

  Not every woman would have stayed by the door and watched the fight. Most would have run for a mile. Chloe had waited patiently for it all to finish and then cleaned up my wounds afterwards.

  I slumped down on the chair by my desk, but winced in pain as I felt the bandage slide against the wound. I should get stitches, but I’d made a huge fuss about not getting them that I’d look like an idiot if I went back on my word now. The wound would heal. Eventually.

  I grabbed an old gym shirt that I’d left in a ball on my desk. It was dank with stale sweat, but it would have to do. I’d still smell better than most of the men in the club, especially by the time we turned on the lights and kicked them all out.

  There wasn’t much else to do in the office, but I wanted to give the wound a chance to stop bleeding before I called a car to take me home. I used my legs to slowly slide the chair over towards the safe on the wall and dug out some cash. A few thousand should do it.

  It was a good thing my dad never looked too closely at the accounts for this place. If he did he might question why we spent so much on high-end whiskey when we didn’t sell any of the stuff. At least once a month I had to withdraw money from the safe to keep Dad happy. And to keep people like Perry alive.

  My phone vibrated loudly on my desk. I quickly pulled myself back over, hoping it was Chloe calling. She had no reason to call, but it would have been nice. No such luck.

  “Dad,” I said, as I put the call on speaker. “To what do I owe the pleasure.”

  Neither myself nor Dad were under any pretense that we were a close, happy family. When we spoke, the conversations were strictly business. Dad invoked ‘family honor’ a few times, but that was always for business purposes as well.

  The arrangement suited us both. I didn’t like Dad, and I knew he didn’t much care for me. He saw me as his heir, which meant I was important to him, but it didn’t mean he had to like me.

  “You get the money from Perry?” Dad asked.

  “About half,” I replied. “He insisted he couldn’t pay any more.”

  “Fucking hell,” Dad yelled. “That prick has had far too many chances. I’m sure he’s just having us on. I drove past that pizza place of his the other night. You should have seen the line of people waiting for his shit. The place was full of drunk frat boys and sluts.”

  “The margins on pizza are low,” I pointed out calmly.

  “I don’t care about his fucking margins. What about our margins?”

  “We charged him twenty percent interest. Compounded. Our margins are more than enough to take the odd loss once in awhile.”

  “I didn’t get where I was today by accepting losses. I want every penny you can get out of him.”

  “I did. Trust me, I was very persuasive. Took a few blows myself as well.”

  My hand instinctively went down to my side, but the second I made contact with the wound, I pulled it away again in pain.

  “He hit you back? Fucking nerve of the guy.”

  “He was barely alive by the time he crawled out of here.”

  “Next time, less of the barely. Speaking of which, I have a job I need you to take care of.”

  If Dad wanted me to handle something personally, then it either involved a large amount of money, someone with a presence in the city, or both.

  “What do you need me to do?” I asked.

  “Barton’s boys are back in town.”

  Barton? “His two sons?”

  “Yeah. They were spotted down by the docks last night by some of my informants. This is our chance to strike a big blow. I need you to have their contracts terminated.”

  That was Dad’s not so subtle way of saying he wanted them killed. Dad didn’t usually give instructions over the phone, so this was likely urgent as well.

  “They could lead us to Barton,” I suggested. “Why don’t we just watch them for a bit. See where they lead us?”

  “Fuck that. Did Roddy just watch Kara and see where she went? No, he fucking killed her. We’re going to do the same to the people he cares about most.”

  Dad didn’t care about Kara. He was just bringing her up to get me motivated. It worked. I was going to kill Roddy, and soon, but the more torture I could inflict upon him in the meantime the better. He didn’t get to die a quick death; he would watch those he loved most die right in front of his eyes.

  I wouldn’t find it easy to kill them, but if I thought about Kara, pictured the smile I would never see again, I would likely find the motivation.

  “Where are they now?” I asked.

  “We don’t know, but I have people looking out for them.”

  “Okay. Let me know when you have a location. I’ll handle it.”

  “No,” Dad responded firmly. “No need to get your hands dirty on this one. They will likely have protection with them, and if so it’s going to become a firefight.”

  So much for talking in code, Dad. You’re getting too old for this.

  “I didn’t know you cared,” I replied sarcastically.

  “I don’t want you making fucking headline news in the middle of a shootout.”

  That was more like it. He just didn’t want any negative press attention. The jobs that might make it to the press were best handled by nobodies. The hired goons we paid to do our dirty work. But not this job.

  “I’ll get someone on it,” I lied. “When you know where they are I’ll give the order.”

  Dad hung up. It hadn’t escaped my attention that he could have just handled this himself if he didn’t want me to be the one to pull the trigger. Dad wanted an extra layer of protection between himself and whatever shit went down. This way, if one of the thugs in our employ happened to talk, the police would be led straight back to me. Dad would be in the clear.

  With such a great role model, was it really any surprise I didn’t want children of my own?

  I had no intention of paying anyone else to take care of this mess. I had no issue getting the men to make house calls and break some bones if need be, but I could never ask anyone to kill for me.

  This was something I had to do myself. I didn’t enjoy killing. I’d only ever done it twice and that was
unarguably in self-defense. The only man I wanted to kill was Roddy Barton, and that was revenge for Kara’s death.

  Killing Roddy’s sons could count as revenge. Part of it at least. They were just as bad as their father, possibly worse actually. They ran a strip club in a rough part of town, and a few of the bartenders at my club used to work there.

  The stories they told were harrowing. The sons regularly abused the women, and didn’t even have the decency to do it behind closed doors.

  One of the bartenders, Suzy, had left after having to watch her friend be raped in front of her eyes. Make no mistake, these men deserved what they had coming to them.

  They were living on borrowed time now. When I got their location, they were going down.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe

  I barely slept at all that night, despite the fact that I’d had a long day and my body was physically drained.

  Too many emotions were flowing through my body, and I couldn’t force it to shut down for the night. The more I tried, the more awake I felt. On top of being my first day working undercover, I’d also watched a fight up close and personal, seen someone get stabbed, and half-undressed my new boss.

  That brought out emotions I’d never even felt before. I was a nervous person, so nerves were nothing new, and after what I’d seen my dad go through, violence wasn’t a huge issue either. But the chemistry I’d felt with Denton had definitely been new.

  Did it still count as chemistry if only one person felt it? I doubt Denton had even noticed me. Having a woman touch his body was likely a weekly occurrence, whereas I’d only been with a handful of men before. Actually, they weren’t much of a handful, but that wasn’t the point.

  Eventually, I did drift off to sleep, but never for more than half an hour. Each time I slept, I had the same nightmare. I relived the fight in my mind, but this time, Denton was like a demon. He towered over Perry, even though in reality they’d been roughly the same height, and fire erupted around him as he yelled and screamed.