Hard Tackle (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel)

by Loren, Celia

  "…with Shaun Merryweather," the brunette woman says, and my ears prick up. That's Jack's friend that I met at my mom's engagement party.

  "Good luck! I've heard he's really picky. So what was Stratton like?" the redhead asks. I stop eating, a piece of lasagna paused on my fork an inch away from my mouth.

  "Oh my god, I can't even describe it to you," the brunette replies with a laugh.

  "Huge?"

  "Huge." I tremble, and the lasagna falls off my fork and tumbles down my t-shirt and into my lap. I swear under my breath and try to clean it up as best I can with a paper napkin. The women don't even notice. "He likes it pretty dirty, you know? Don't be afraid to like, really go for it. I swear, we did it like four times in one night."

  I stand up, my chair screeching back from the table, and head away from the table. I don't know where I'm going until I reach the doors to the balcony. I burst out of them, gasping for fresh air as I lean over the marble wall. I close my eyes as I smell the sea breeze coming off Old Tampa Bay in front of me. I was right, Jack has been with some of these women, or certainly that one. I open my eyes as an image of them fucking in his apartment bed jumps into my mind. I grit my teeth, trying to push it away, but the imagined sounds of him thrusting against her echo around my head.

  I hear cheering and turn back around to see what's going on. The Bucs are entering, and the crowd makes room for them as they applaud. The players and coaches spread out to find their families, and through the glass walls I'm able to see Jack walking over to Ray and my mom. I feel a stab of pain in my heart as he gives each of them a hug. He heads for the buffet – no surprise there – and attracts a gaggle of women, as though he has a net trailing behind him that they get caught up in. I watch him smile and laugh with them as he fills a plate up.

  This is what it's always going to be like, isn't it? He's always going to be pursued by these gorgeous women. How can I compete with that? And how can I expect him to resist them, day after day, city after city, as he travels for games? I turn back around to watch the setting sun. The crowd begins filtering out to the balcony, and the area around me is quickly filled with excited voices. There's nowhere to be alone.

  Eventually, I look over and see Jack outside, plate balanced on a high cocktail table. He's still surrounded by women, who all lean forward and hang on his every word. Every once in a while one of his team members will walk by and they'll high five each other. Is there an eject button anywhere around here?

  I glance over again and kick myself as Jack catches my eye. "Hey! There you are!" he calls out and waves me over. I shake my head and he frowns slightly, but he picks up his plate and walks over to me. Unfortunately, his entourage follows him. I've never felt so short as he and the high-heeled women tower over me.

  "Oh no, what happened?" the redhead I saw earlier coos. I glance down at where she's looking and see the lasagna stains all over my shirt.

  "Accident," I mutter.

  "Now it matches all your other stained shirts," Jack says with a smile. I know he's joking, but I blush, feeling embarrassed. The women shift and glance at each other, sensing an intimacy between us. "Bree's mom and my dad are getting married next year," Jack announces.

  "That's so cute!" Red exclaims.

  "Is it?" I reply under my breath.

  "You guys will be brother and sister."

  "So, Bree, what's he like in private?" another of the women enquires.

  "In private?"

  "You know, around the house and stuff. Does he keep his room clean?" she purrs, draping an arm over Jack's shoulder.

  "No, actually, it's fucking disgusting," I reply matter-of-factly, giving Jack an icy smile.

  "Bree…" Jack says, knowing I'm joking, but looking a little worried.

  "Really?" Red asks.

  "Yeah, he keeps old food in there, like all hidden below piles of dirty clothes. Last month it all got infested with maggots. I mean, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a maggot infestation. And apparently it's not very common, but boy is it tough to get rid of. We thought they were all gone, but then I saw one crawling down the hallway away from his room just yesterday. They could be inside all the walls of the house at this point."

  "What a shame," Red says, making a clucking noise with her tongue. "I guess you'll just have to buy a whole new house then! Luckily you can afford it!" she adds with a laugh.

  "Ugh, excuse me," I groan, rolling my eyes.

  "Bree!" I hear Jack call after me, but I slip through the crowd, using my diminutive size to my advantage, squeezing by all the giants around me until I'm at the ballroom's entrance.

  "Bree Bosko!" someone calls from the press line as I head for the elevator.

  "Yes?" I reply automatically. Wait, fuck, I trained myself not to answer to that name anymore. I turn to see Victoria Reilly, the sideline reporter Jack pointed out to me, shoving a microphone in my face.

  "So you are the daughter of Sonny Bosko? I'm sure Bucs fans will remember Sonny Bosko," she continues, turning to narrate to the camera as I stand frozen next to her, "who lost so much money gambling that he bet against his own team, then paid a member of the Bucs staff to sneak into the opposing team's locker room to steal their playbook in an attempt to throw the game. Do you remember much of the time after he was banned from the NFL?" she asks, turning to me. "You must have been quite young."

  "Yes, I was," I reply in a tiny voice. The camera lights around us are all swinging toward us and I feel a trickle of sweat run down my forehead.

  "And yet here you are again, accepted back into the Bucs' circle. Where is your father now?"

  The question hits me like a punch in the gut. "I don't know," I confess. "I have to go," I gasp out, running for the elevators. I punch the down button but the doors don't open. I see the sign for a stairwell next to me, and run through it. I wince as an emergency alarm goes off, but I don't care. I just keep running.

  Chapter Thirty

  "Hey, hon! We're home! You feeling better?" my mom calls from the foyer.

  "Yeah, I'm fine now!" I reply from the den, where I'm curled up with a blanket pulled up to my chin. I hear her and Ray chatting as they head upstairs. My mom sounds a little tipsy. I texted her that I had a headache and was taking a cab home from the party. I've been in front of the TV since I got back, anxiously watching FOX Sports' coverage of the game to see if they would include anything about Sonny Bosko's daughter reappearing at one of his old team's games.

  Why did I turn around when that reporter called my name? Bree Driscoll, Bree Driscoll, I trained myself when my mom changed our last name. And how did that reporter even know? Maybe she recognized my mom from old pictures?

  I shift, feeling my cell phone dig into my ribs. I turned it off after Jack's fifth text. If he's going to sleep with one of those bimbos he should just go ahead and get it over with. Better that it happens sooner rather than later.

  The TV switches back from a commercial and I hold my breath, but the announcers introduce a profile of a Ravens player. I try to stay up as long as I can, but eventually I feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier until I fall asleep.

  I wake up to a dark figure looming over me. I'm filled with a sudden fear and lash out with a fist. I make contact and hear a groan, and the figure falls to the floor. I reach over to switch on the lamp on the side table and leap to my feet, ready to go again.

  "Fuck, Bree!" Jack moans from the floor. "You hit me right in the balls!"

  "Oops. I thought…I don't know. I thought you were someone else," I explain as I take his arm to help him stand.

  "Who?" he asks, trying to straighten up.

  "I'm not sure. It was like a flashback, almost. I could see someone standing over me, and they were saying something, but I couldn't move."

  "That's strange," Jack comments, as he drops onto the couch, still grimacing with a hand over his crotch.

  "Yeah," I reply, then remember that I'm mad at him.

  "Where the hell did you go earlier? I've been texting
and calling. I was worried."

  "You seemed busy so I left. Didn't even think you'd notice."

  "Of course I did! What are you talking about?" he demands, sounding exasperated.

  "I'm talking about that little group of women you had surrounding you. How many of them have you slept with?" I demand, feeling my anger roiling through my brain.

  "None!"

  "I heard a woman talking about you. How you had sex so many times in one night—"

  "Bree—"

  "I heard her!"

  "There were a few women at the party I've slept with, not specifically one of the women who were around me when—"

  "And they all act like I don't even exist."

  "Bree. They think you're like my sister so they're not registering you as competition."

  "Well, they should!"

  "No."

  "What's that supposed to mean?!" I snap.

  "There is no competition. I don't care about them," he answers, seeming infuriatingly calm now. "Bree, there are always going to be women around me. Always. Even the married players have women throwing themselves at them. Not so obviously, but it still happens, believe me."

  "So there's no chance for us, is what you're saying," I whisper, tears springing to my eyes.

  "Did you drink crazy juice today or something?" he sputters. "I'm saying that there will always be women around, so you have to trust me, and not freak out every time one of them bats her eyelashes at me."

  "These women, they're different than me."

  "Right…"

  "Exactly! They're so polished, and beautiful, and they hair is so perfectly straight and nice..."

  "I...I don't know about the hair thing, but I think you're beautiful. Bree, I like that you're different than them. That's why I'm with you, and not one of them. I thought you knew that," he says, reaching for my hands. He wraps his around them and pulls me down to sitting next to him.

  "But for how long?" I reply, a tear dropping down my cheek.

  "How long what?"

  "How long…will I be enough for you?" I finally whisper, giving voice to my deepest fear.

  "Bree," Jack murmurs, gently wiping the tears from my cheek with his thumb. "You're so young, I wasn't sure if we should…I just mean, I could see us together," he clears his throat, looking a bit awkward. "I have a hard time seeing a future where we're not together, to be honest with you. But you're so much younger than me, and I don't want to put any pressure on you. I've had time to, you know, sow my wild oats or whatever, and you haven't."

  "Wait…wait…what are you saying?" I ask, my heart beating wildly in my ears.

  "I'm saying…I love you," he replies quietly. Everything inside me goes still for a moment, and my eyes lock directly onto his irises, pale blue with the lamp behind me outlined against them.

  "I love you, too," I breathe.

  "Yeah? Really?" he asks, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

  "Really. I can't believe you love me…"

  "The feeling's mutual. Now about this alleged maggot infestation…"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I laugh and fling my arms around his neck and press my lips against his, tears still damp on my cheeks. We're both smiling and our teeth click together as our mouths desperately connect. He takes my face in his huge hands and holds it back away from his for a moment, his eyes poring over my features as though he's memorizing them. But then he frowns, his eyes flicking toward the TV.

  "Bree, why are you watching sports news?" he asks with a befuddled smile.

  "Oh, god, I almost forgot," I groan, resting my forehead on his. "That reporter, Victoria Reilly, she must have recognized my mom from the old news stories…she stopped me as I was leaving the party and started asking me about my dad. She's going to dredge the whole thing up again, and the worst part is that the whole world is going to know he abandoned us."

  "But none of that is about you."

  "And I had sauce stains all over my shirt."

  "Anyone with any intelligence will know that what happened had nothing to do with you…the gambling, leaving you and your brother. And the people who are stupid enough to be angry at you about it aren't worth your time or worry anyway."

  "I've just always felt so ashamed about it. I just remember everyone being so angry, and at the time I couldn't tell who it was about. Everything just felt angry. And then sad. And then lonely. Carter, he took it even harder than me. I think he's spent his whole life trying to prove he's a better man than our father was, or is."

  "Honestly, I don't think you'll even have to worry about it getting out again."

  "Why not? Wouldn't it make a good story? I'm sure the fans would love to paint us as some kind of returning curse, blaming us for every missed field goal. Oh, god, and I never even told you how well you played today! I'm too busy making this all about me."

  "Well, thanks, but still, I don't think they're going to run a piece about you. One of the Patriots players was found with a transvestite prostitute earlier tonight, and all the news outlets are jumping on that. See?" he says, pointing to the screen.

  "Oh, shit," I swear, then brighten. "It's my lucky day! And you really did play great today."

  "Did you have any fun at all?"

  "Well, at first I hated seeing you get hit, but honestly, I got used to it."

  Jack laughs. "I guess that's good."

  "You have practice tomorrow morning?"

  He shakes his head. "Off for recovery time, but I have to go in to watch some tapes in the afternoon."

  "How do you feel about having to sneak out of the house early?" I ask with a smile.

  Up in my room, Jack deftly unsnaps my bra and I let it fall to the floor. I don't know why it feels different to be with him now that we've said that we love each other, but it does. It's as though every gesture, every touch, has more significance to it, like it's a way of saying without words, this is how I love you.

  I step back from him to push my jeans to the floor and then my underwear. He disrobes, too, both of us taking our time and watching each other undress. He walks up to me, slowly running his fingers through my hair and down my shoulders.

  "Someday I'm going to take you out to dinner right in the open," he murmurs, his gaze following the path of his fingers.

  I shiver at his touch. "Yeah?"

  He nods. "I'm going to take you somewhere on the water. It's not going to be one of those modern, soulless places. It'll be a restaurant that's been there for years, a little place that serves seafood just off the boat. And we'll have dinner together, and the sun will set over the ocean while we're having our entrees and a bottle of wine between us. And then we'll walk down to the beach, and we'll take our shoes off and carry them in our hands, and we'll walk together for as long as we want because neither of us have anywhere else to be. And then eventually we'll drive back to our house, and we'll get in our bed, and I'll make love to you, and the next morning I'll wake up with your head tucked against my shoulder."

  "That sounds perfect," I breathe, my body aching with the bittersweet realization that it might be a long time before we can make that dream a reality. He bends down and lifts me into his arms. Our mouths find each other's and it's just as exciting as the first time we kissed, and now it's full of everything that has happened between us since then.

  I move to his ear, kissing his lobe before pulling it into my mouth. He groans and walks over to the bed, gently placing me on top of it. He kisses my neck, moving down to the small hollow in the middle of my clavicle and running his tongue around the edges of it. He moves down the center of my chest, bringing his hands up to my breasts. I arch into his rough palms, his callouses even more pronounced now. He moves them gently around my breasts, caressing them as his head moves down, crossing my belly button and then continuing on.

  I gasp as his tongue flicks over my clit. I moan, already so close to an orgasm. He sucks gently on it, then begins to slowly circle it. His fingers pinch my breasts as his tongue moves faster and fast
er. I spread my knees apart, gasping for air and sweet release. But he stops, moving back up and scooping me up a little farther onto the bed. I open my eyes and gaze into his. We both smile at the same time, happy to not have to break to retrieve a condom now that I'm on birth control.

  I tuck one leg behind his back and he positions himself at my opening. I let out a low moan as he slowly thrusts himself inside me, his eyes never leaving mine. Our lips find each other's again as he pulls back out and drives in again. I gasp as he thrusts in harder and faster. I reach around his back and hold on tight as he lets loose, pounding into me.

  "Oh, Jack…fuck…" I moan, shuddering with an orgasm. He keeps moving on top of me, allowing me my full release before slowing down. With a twist of my hips, I get him to turn over onto his back. I move my knees astride him without our bodies ever losing contact. I rise up on his shaft as he grins up at me.

  I look down over his body, running my hands from his hard abs up over his engorged pecs as I maintain a slow, pulsating rhythm on top of him. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him, so perfect, so handsome, and all mine.

  Suddenly, he sits up, wrapping an arm around my back and sucking one of my breasts into his mouth. I toss my head back and move my legs around his ass. He moves forward, placing his feet on the floor, and then thrusts up into me. A wave of pleasure flows through me and I wrap my arms around his neck. He places one hand behind him on the mattress and drives his hips up again. My clit rubs against his stomach just above the base of his shaft, and my eyes fly open as he slips his other hand around my ass, his fingers pulling my cheeks apart as he circles a finger between them.

  The new sensation sends a thrill of shock and need coursing through me. I sink down on top of him hard as he pushes up inside me. Our mouths are open and against each other, gasping for breath. Sweat drips down my forehead as another orgasm builds inside me. The pleasure is almost too much, and I groan and fight against it as it builds and builds. But I can't control it forever, and it breaks over me just as Jack comes inside me with a loud grunt.