by Danica Avet
But no one’s more amazed than I am. I should have known he wasn’t here for me. “Seriously Adam?” I say with disbelief. “You came down here to ruin my life, again, for money?”
He glares at me. “Lisa’s taking everything, okay? And I have alimony and child support, Katherine. She’s threatening to take half of the goddamn company. I need cash and this bitch promised it to me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Denise repeats, her gaze a little wild. “Shaun, please, I just want to talk to you.”
“Oh we’ll talk,” he says over my head. A triumphant smile starts to pull at her puffy lips, but falls away when he continues, “When we go before the judge to finish this bullshit once and for all.”
“I want my money,” Adam says, cutting into the sweetness of Shaun’s words.
“That’s the dickhead?” Shaun murmurs, sending an inappropriate-at-this-moment shiver down my spine.
I nod and he starts to let go of me, but I hold onto him this time. Adam isn’t even paying us any attention, confronting a stammering and backpedaling Denise. “No, he isn’t worth it,” I say quietly. “Besides, I think we’ve provided enough entertainment for everyone.”
“I’ll see you in court, Shaun,” the bitch announces with a sniff.
“You can bet on it,” my man shoots back without sounding the least bit concerned.
Denise gives us a good glare and strides away as fast as her spike heels would allow her on the uneven ground, but Adam isn’t letting her go so easily. He trots after her, demanding money. Some genius starts singing “Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)” and everyone else chimes in, the song following the two off the field.
I turn and tuck my face into Shaun’s chest, needing to be close to him regardless of who’s watching. For a moment there my faith in him was shaken, my confidence in the person I am wavered, and I’m ashamed of that momentary lapse. But when he squeezes me tight, kissing the crown of my head, I know we’ll be okay.
“All right, show’s over,” Levi shouts. “Marching 300 dismissed and all that. Let’s go get drunk!”
The little shits, who I’ve come to love, whistle “The Colonel Bogey March”, otherwise known as the Bridge on the River Kwai theme as they pass us. Shaun and I are buffeted by pats on our backs—and one pinch on my ass which I plan to get Levi back for later on—each one commiserating and comforting until we’re left alone. I think. I don’t want to look to see if anyone’s waiting for the next train wreck.
“Are you okay?” Shaun asks, swaying us side-to-side in a gentle, comforting rhythm. “I’m so fucking sorry about all of this.”
Listening to his heartbeat, the rumble of his voice, more of the tension flows from me. “I’m…” I pause and think about it. “I’m shaken up and embarrassed my students saw that, but other than that, I’m okay.” And I really am.
One of his hands slid up my back to thread through my hair, gently tugging my head back so I’m looking up at him. The distant light from the bonfire casts shadows on his handsome face, making him look dangerous in a way that has my body shivering with delight. He’s studying me, trying to read me, so I let him look. I have nothing to hide from him. Some of the rigidity leaves him and I think he finally sees that I am okay because I feel safe with him.
“I can’t believe she fucking came here,” he mutters. His long fingers start massaging my scalp. “She must be desperate, but now it makes sense why I haven’t heard from her since that night I told her the treatments were coming out of her settlement. She was digging into your past. But I’m finished with this shit. No more playing around.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say because it’s the only sound I’m capable. Shaun gave the best massages. Like, the best. But I rouse enough to murmur, “Whatever you need to do, I’m with you all the way, honey.”
The resulting kiss he presses to my lips is appreciative and quick because he isn’t finished venting.
“And your prick of an ex,” he growls, his fingers working a little harder, hitting spots that make my eyes flutter closed. “Can’t believe he came down here for money. What the fuck is wrong with him?” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Just sayin’, babe, you’re so much better off without that fuck.”
“Yeah.” I might be drooling.
His hand moves down to my nape, fingers working tendons that had knotted up during the drama. I know, I know, he’s mostly doing this to release some of the adrenaline coursing through him from the confrontation, but I’m in heaven. And my body is starting to take an interest in more than the safety of Shaun’s arms. It’s well aware that we’re plastered together, that Shaun’s cock is a hard bar against my stomach and the more he touches me, the more my hormones clamor for everything he can give me.
Shaun takes a big breath and his touch gentles. “Love you.”
I force my eyes open. “I love you too.”
His kiss is sweet. My pussy doesn’t want sweet. He pulls away before I can deepen it, maybe get a little grabby with his tight ass and molest him in the middle of a field with people wandering back and forth. Okay, that clears my head a little. We were already going to be the talk of campus when tonight’s drama gets out. We don’t need the added infamy of being caught fucking in the middle of the field.
The hand gripping my waist slides south, finding and gripping one cheek of my ass possessively. I gasp, eyes wide as I stare up at him. I recognize that look on his face. It’s probably a mirror of my own and it’s all about hot, sweaty sex.
“Do you still want to go to the block party?” he asks in a near growl, making my nipples tighten.
I lick my lips. “I told Mark and Cora I’d meet up with them.” Dammit, I didn’t want to meet up with them. I wanted to go home with my man and tear up his big bed. “But we can skip. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No, after this bullshit, we need to be seen doing normal things.” But his hand didn’t move off my ass. In fact, he’s kneading the cheek the way he does when he’s feeling frisky. “Looks like it’ll have to be a quickie in the truck,” he finally mutters.
Shaun lets go of my ass, only to take my hand in his and start tugging me in the direction of the parking lot. “Gonna get you off with my fingers,” he decides. “You’re gonna get me off with your hands, we’ll clean up and meet up with them.”
It took him all of two minutes to make me come so hard I thought I’d shatter the windows of his truck. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my man is good with his hands. And I’m not too shabby either because I had him shouting and coming all over my palm in ten.
Shaun
Christmas
I’ve always enjoyed the holidays because they’re the only times in a year I know I’ll get to see my parents. I wasn’t able to go home for Thanksgiving because of the game schedule, plus Katie’s mom was coming in from Chicago and I wouldn’t have wanted to leave her behind. It worked out though. Her mom doesn’t hate me. In fact, I think she might like me a little.
Glancing over at Sheila where she sits chatting with Mom and Dad, I’m hopeful she’s starting to realize I just happen to be a guy who made a living playing football, not with women’s hearts. Katie tells me I need to give her mom time, but I don’t have time.
“You okay?” Katie asks as she crosses the living room to sit on the arm of my chair. “You look sick.”
Her hand strokes over my forehead, which is clammy. And it fucking should be. I’m sick as fuck, stomach all knotted up when it isn’t roiling like I’m going to vomit. “I’m fine,” I say with a strained smile.
She continues stroking my face gently, soothingly, and I do start to feel better. Looping my arm around her waist, I pull her into my lap. She’s gotten so used to this over the last three months, she doesn’t even squeak anymore.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, although it feels inadequate.
She looks stunning. Her dress is simple, some purple-red color that make her green eyes sparkle and her cheek
s pink. I like it because it shows off her figure. I contemplate how much I love her tits and ass as I stroke her hip.
Her smile is all Katie. Shy and a little mischievous. “You look handsome, as always.” She strokes my beard, running her fingers through it. “I’m so glad you’re keeping this.” My woman does love the way it feels on her inner thighs. She sighs and cuddles into me. “Are you happy?”
Am I happy? My divorce was finalized two weeks ago. As soon as Denise saw the shit rolling downhill, she couldn’t sign the property settlement fast enough. Once that was done, Madison and Denise’s attorney filed a Joint Petition and the court accepted it. I’m now a free man.
I’m also the assistant coach of a college team playing in the Sugar Bowl next week. I’m beyond pleased with my guys, their maturity and the hard work they’ve put into practices and games all season long. Those seniors will go out with a bang and it’ll give the newer players a chance to wet their feet in the big league. Does it matter if we win? Well yeah, I want that fucking trophy, the athletic department could use the purse and I want my players to have that title under their belts. But just getting there is a big fucking deal, so yeah, I’m happy as fuck about the way my first season as a coach has gone.
But I’m not completely happy. Not yet. Katie still won’t move in with me. I don’t know what’s holding her back and, not to sound like a pussy, it hurts. I know she loves me. It’s in her eyes when she looks at me, the softness in her voice when she speaks to or of me, but she won’t take that final step.
Which means the ring burning a hole in my pocket might be a bad idea.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I tell her, kissing the crown of her head.
Dad is watching us together, his smile fond. Yeah, my parents love Katie. I think Mom would keep her if anything ever happened and we weren’t a couple anymore. I’d probably be blackballed out of the family, while Katie would be greeted with open arms. They get along. My parents loved that Katie’s “normal” as they put it. They love that she’s a teacher and a musician, and I know Mom’s hoping we’ll start a family soon. Like tomorrow. She’s anxious for grandchildren.
I’m just anxious to make Katie mine in the eyes of the law. Which is why I’m currently in my living room with a ring in my pocket, sweating buckshot at the thought of her turning me down. If she does say no, I’m not letting her get away. I’ll ask her to marry me every Christmas Eve for the rest of our lives until she finally says yes. That’s how badly I want her to be my wife.
“Your heart’s racing,” she murmurs, putting her hand on my chest. “Was it the gumbo I made for lunch?”
“No, baby, the gumbo was fine.” Watery, bland and nothing like what we’ve both had at The Glasshouse, but I ate that shit anyway because she worked so hard on it. “I’m just—”
“Ready to open presents?” Mom trills as she sees me and Katie cuddled together. She claps her hands, beaming with happiness. “It’s a Decker family tradition to open one big present on Christmas Eve.”
My heart starts galloping because this is the moment I’ve been waiting for, and dreading, since I bought the ring right after I left the courthouse in Nevada. Mom starts passing out presents, Katie pointing out which ones she wants them to open and an envelope she wants that she holds in her hands.
Paper starts tearing around the room. Katie and I got my parents and her mom a copy of the picture that went viral on the internet. It’d taken some snooping around to find out which of her students took it, and while the girl was terrified she would get in trouble for it, she calmed down enough to explain she’s in photography class and took the picture because it was “a perfect example of love”. We have a copy of it mounted on the wall above us now and yeah, it’s my favorite piece of decorating Katie’s done in my place.
Then it was our turn, but a sudden case of nerves has me panicking. “How about I open mine first?” I suggest when she looks at me with a bright smile.
She bites her bottom lip, looking uncertain. “Okay,” she says slowly, holding out the envelope to me. As I slide my finger under the flap, she starts babbling a mile a minute. “I didn’t know what to get you. I mean, you buy whatever you really want, so I wanted to make sure it was something you might like. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”
“Baby, I’ll love it,” I tell her because it’s the truth. I can’t think of anything she could get me that I’d hate.
Pulling out the sheet of paper, I expect it to be a gift card to The Glasshouse, or something else, but when I open it, my heart stops.
The LaSalle Adult Flag Football League
Wants YOU!
Sign-ups for Spring is January 8-10th
Practices every Tuesday at 6 p.m.
And Saturdays at 3 p.m.
Games take place every Sunday afternoon
March – May
Register now before spots fill up!
Katie’s fingers twist together nervously as she waits for my reaction. I read the flyer again and my throat goes tight. I’m stunned. Flat out stunned. My woman, she couldn’t give me my professional career back, but she could give me something else. Something that was about the game, about the team, things I’ve missed the most about playing.
“I know how much you miss playing,” she finally says, her voice a little shaky. “You don’t need to join. I didn’t tell them who it was for. I just thought it might be fun and—”
“Marry me.”
That stops her nervous chatter. In fact, it stops all conversation in the room, but the only person I care about in this moment is the woman staring at me with her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide and face pale.
“What?” she breathes.
I’m fucking this up bad. I didn’t really propose to Denise so much as we just decided it would be fun to get married. She picked her ring out, did all the shit that went with a wedding while I sat back and considered myself smooth. That was not the case with Katie. I dig in my pocket for the ring, nearly unseating her from my lap, only her quick grab for my neck keeping her in place.
Clenching my fingers around the diamond solitaire, I pull it out and lift it for her to see. “Marry me, Katie,” I demand, the tightness in my throat making my words more like a rasp than anything else. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, make babies with you. I want it all with you, everything.”
“Shaun?” she asks, her gaze going from my face to the ring and back again. “I—”
Fuck, she’s going to say no. “I love you. I love you so goddamn much, I’d do it all over again—the hell with Denise, the injuries, everything—if it means meeting you, falling in love with you and having you in my life. Marry m—”
The arms around my neck tighten as she throws herself against my chest, lips pressed to mine in a desperate kiss. I almost drop the ring, managing to slip it on the tip of my index finger as I devour Katie’s mouth. I’m holding her almost too tight, but I can’t seem to let her go. I won’t let her go. Ever.
Mom lets out this loud sigh that manages to break the moment and Katie pulls away breathlessly, her cheeks flushed with the pleasure and happiness that shines in her eyes.
“Yes,” she says softly, ignoring our parents for the moment. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you too. So much.”
The relief that crashes into me at her words is almost enough to leave me boneless, but I have enough strength to slide that ring on her finger, the fit absolute perfection. It looks good on her and not just because it’s a physical statement of my claim. Mostly.
“I love you,” she whispers, leaning in for another kiss.
And that’s all I need to know.
Kate
I spin my engagement ring around and around my finger as the play clock starts to wind down. The Superdome is packed with screaming fans. I’ve never seen so many people in one place before and when we first entered the stands, I felt overwhelmed. But then the game started and I forgot about everything except my man as he coaches his team through the most challenging ga
me they’ve played all season.
“I need a cigarette,” Mark mutters next to me, his anxious gaze on the field where the Spartan defense was trying to stop the Trojan offense from reaching the end zone.
“You don’t smoke,” I remind my friend, watching Shaun stand still as a statue on the sideline, poker face in place.
“Now would be a good time to start though.”
I stop playing with my ring long enough to pat his arm, not that I feel much better. The Spartans are tied with the Trojans with only three minutes left in the game. While part of me is filled with school pride, the majority of my desire for a win is because it would mean so much to Shaun and the players.
The Trojans call for a timeout and I look at Walker. “‘Cold Sweat.’”
The drum major dutifully hops up and screams the command over the roar of the crowd. The Marching 300 break out with James Brown’s funky hit, playing their hearts out. The horns are blaring just a little, but that’s okay. I think Mark and I are probably the only ones who notice because the audience is too fevered—or drunk—to do more than dance and cheer along.
Timeout over, the teams take the field again and the play starts. I don’t know what happens. Shaun’s been trying to explain the nuances of the game and, while I do listen, it just doesn’t make much sense to me. Still I know something big happens, something one of the Spartan players did, because the ball, which was tucked against a Trojan uniform, suddenly pops free and bounces on the field. That’s good. For us.
I jump to my feet, Mark and the band doing the same, all of us screaming. When we see a white jersey fall on the ball, we scream even louder. Walker doesn’t need direction this time, turning around and firing the 300 up to play the Sauvage fight song. There’s a frenzy of movement on the Spartan sideline as Shaun shouts for the offense. We have the ball.
Glancing at the scoreboard again, I see we’re down to just a minute and twenty seconds of play. Without meaning to, I clutch Mark’s hand, squeezing it, as Shaun’s guys take the field. I recognize a lot of the names on the backs of the jerseys now. De Groot takes his place on the line, two spots left of the center. Moody settles in next to his buddy while Beau gets in position behind the center, his head turning left and right as he looks down the line.
