UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT (Gods of the Gridiron Book 1)
Page 6
“Oh, everything has changed, Fireball. It’s just a matter of time before you change your mind and cave to me. My natural charm will win you over in no time. Besides, being forced to live in close proximity like this with me, I’ve got that on my side too.”
“You’re so full of shit that your eyes are turning brown. Do you actually hear the stuff that comes out of your mouth sometimes?” Skyla shook her head in bewilderment at his unwavering cockiness.
“This mouth can do things to you you’ve only dreamed about, darlin’. These hands. This cock.” He grabbed himself suggestively, and it was all she could do not to slap that smirk off his gorgeous face.
“Only you would be thinking about sex at a time like this. Go, shower so that I can too. I want to get to a payphone and call Norm, then I want something hot for dinner.”
“Me too, sexy lady. Me too.”
With that, Travis licked his lips, slowly, sexily. Sky felt a tingle in her lower belly that spread to her sex, and she almost whimpered aloud. She wouldn’t tell Travis Redmond to save her life, but she wondered suddenly too if he wasn’t right about what he’d just said. Being stuck in this cabin with him was going to be hard…and the sexual chemistry was undeniable.
She’d felt it practically sizzling her last night at the bar as she’d moved her hand over his big bicep and the tribal tattoo that covered it. She’d never felt anything more wonderful than the smooth expanse of his perfect skin and wanted him with such a hunger that it had frightened her. How could she even think of being intimate with any man after she’d been jilted so by her fiancé?
It’d hurt when she’d suspected Sam of infidelity, and it scarred her heart permanently when she’d seen it for certain. Not only had she seen it, but all of the world too; her heart had literally broken in two at the betrayal. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell her in person; she’d found out through the media. Not that she hadn’t known, deep down.
Sky had felt something was off. He’d been spending too much time at the office, came home too late on far too many nights. But she’d held out on him, refusing to sleep with him, and for good reason. Now she was glad she’d saved herself more heartache. The pain of it and all that had happened over the last twenty-four hours took its toll as Skyla felt tears sting the back of her eyes. A man was dead, and all she was thinking about was herself. But it trumped the fear she felt running from Geraci’s men.
She shut and locked the cabin door, then ambled into the small den. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and surrendered into the exhaustion that seized her heart and mind in that moment.
Skyla awoke hours later with a start as Travis turned the lamp beside her on.
She gasped even as her eyes roved his half-naked frame, clad only in a burgundy towel wrapped precariously around his hips.
“Fuck, Travis, what the hell are you doing?”
“Sorry, I fell asleep on the bed after my shower and just woke up. It’s getting dark outside.”
“Shit!” she whined and began to remove the blanket only to stop as her eyes fell over Travis’s gloriously naked torso. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered beneath her breath and gulped as his muscles rippled with each breath he took. His chest was broad, his pecs large and chiseled not unlike his washboard abs and cut arms. He was the perfect sculpture of a god, in every sense of the word. She suddenly wondered what those muscles felt—and tasted—like.
Travis stood still and let her evaluate every exposed inch of his flesh, the black tribal tattoo that covered his left pec and the expanse of his arm. Then her eyes moved back to his face, which seemed to be as surprised as she was. She knew she was practically drooling, her mouth agape, but God help her she couldn’t come to. Was she still dreaming? That had to be it. This wasn’t real and soon she would wake from this sultry dream to a cold, harsh reality. A reality of a woman who’d never felt like she’d been enough for any man, who intimidated the few she’d had. A woman who’d always longed to be wanted, loved, and worshipped by a sexual beast like Travis Redmond but never had been, all because her insecurities outweighed her confidence.
She stood and let the blanket fall from her, entranced by the cool, blue eyes that held her, once more, captive. She’d never wanted to be a prisoner any more than she did right then. The allure of his warm body pulled her in, like a beacon in the dark. Her palms came to rest on either side of his face, on his bearded square jaw. Her eyes roved his plump lips, that straight nose, and serious brows, back to his perfect eyes. Eyes she’d prayed to get lost in. Eyes she was now lost in. Eyes that saw past every flaw, every doubt, every fear. She gulped again and moved her hands to his shoulders. God, he was so broad, so tall, so powerful. She was a mere mortal to the mighty “Ares,” as he was called by his teammates, and now she knew why. She wanted to be overcome by him, feel his hard body dominating hers, feel him ramming her into a fantasy where nothing existed but the two of them.
Travis shivered even as he inhaled sharply at the touch of her hands on his skin. Her fingertips hovered over his deltoids, down his shoulder blades, to his biceps and squeezed. When she moaned aloud, he growled, and she’d never been more aroused in her life than in that moment. She longed to throw herself into his big arms and beg him to take her to Mt. Olympus, where he reigned in his realm of gridiron legends.
The allure of letting herself go had never been stronger. They were on the run after all and might die before all was said and done, and dammit, she felt as if she’d not lived until this very second being in his presence. She bit into her lip to keep from beseeching him to show her what he’d been saying earlier about his mouth and hands and cock, her half-sleeping brain still in La-La Land.
“Sky,” he warned and stepped closer, not quite touching her but close enough to make every hair on her body stand on end. His eyes closed as his head moved down toward hers and she saw that she wasn’t the only one losing control. Would it be so bad to give in to her darkest, deepest desires? Would it be so wrong to let the controlled woman loose for just a night? Just long enough to have the one man she’d always wanted with a fire that had never burned out.
Then something snapped into place—her logical brain. The body who’d been had far too many times by far too many assholes finally intervened. Her puffy cloud of pink popped into a raging red inferno: He’s a player, you fool! He eats women for breakfast. Fuck him and you’ll only have a heart even more broken than it already is.
And just like that, Sky moved back and pushed his chest away. “Go put some fucking clothes on, will you?”
The hurt in Travis’s eyes cut her but not as bad as she knew the venomous bite of his charming ways would poison her entire system, creating a domino effect of tragic loss for years to come. She couldn’t allow him in. Many men had damaged her psyche, but Travis Redmond would break her beyond all repair. He growled again, a tantrum of a man used to getting his way.
“You’re a fucking shifty bitch, you know that?”
“And you’re a selfish pig,” she shot back and begged her heart to calm itself down. It simply swooned over his retreating form, the muscular back and firm ass moving back to the bedroom.
When he returned in his Henley and jeans, her heart rate hadn’t quite calmed, but her mind was set as she said, “About damn time, now it’s my turn to shower.”
“So, I guess we aren’t going into town to make the call?”
“I mean, it’s getting dark. We should probably wait until morning, right?”
He glanced out the curtained window at the setting sun.
“I only say that because it’s harder to find this place in the dark, and I’m not certain how far town is from here.” She shivered and not because she was cold, but Travis didn’t realize that.
“Alright, that’s fine. Go shower, I’ll start a fire and take inventory of our supplies.” He nodded then gave her a soft smile.
The sweet side of her longed to apologize to him for acting like a prick-tease earlier, but the cynical bitch within wanted
him to suffer as she had over the years for her unrequited love for him. She gave a terse nod back and retreated to the shower.
The bedroom was just as she remembered: stacked logs for walls, a queen-sized iron bed centered between two curtained windows with a colorful quilt for a comforter. A vanity sat at one wall, a dresser at another. The bathroom had been updated year before last to house a clawfoot tub which she intended to use at some point, a separate room for the toilet, and a stone shower. She slid her clothes off and draped them on the counter, turned the shower on, and stepped in. The hot water felt good against her skin and she moaned aloud, letting it lull her senses.
Travis Redmond—of all the freaking men in the world she was running from Giovanni Geraci with. Fate was a damn evil cunt sometimes, and she planned to have words with the bitch about this. Travis had haunted her hopes and dreams when she was still an impressionable teen, being raised by her outcast, lunatic of a father. He was a good man but so smart most people in town considered him to be weird, especially after her mother died of a congenital heart defect at a young age, when Sky was just fifteen. Skyla was smart and introverted too, not unlike her father, and got made fun of by boys and girls alike. Travis was one of the few who didn’t directly make fun of her, and took up for her, but his unintentional rejection hurt as bad as the ridicule did.
She’d tried to let it go after ten years of pent-up anger, but seeing him again, being stuck with him like she was, had brought all those buried emotions to the surface. Sky was afraid she might end up like a volcano and erupt on him before all was said and done. It wasn’t his fault, she knew that. He wasn’t to blame for what had taken place, but that didn’t take the pain of it away. It was oozing, festering, coming to a head. As she got out of the steamy shower and covered herself with a towel, she realized she had two options: she could lance that wound or she could let it continue to build. It was high time she decided.
“Houston, we have a problem,” Travis began as Sky came back into the den from the bedroom.
“Oh?” she asked, her big lips plumping in question.
“Yeah, that other bedroom you said he had. It’s not there.”
“What? It is too. It’s right there.” She pointed to the north end of the house and approached the closed door. He followed. When she opened the door, she gasped. “The bed. It’s—it’s gone.”
“I don’t know that it’s so much gone as it is buried under all that furniture, those damn boxes and dust, so looks like I’m sleeping on the couch.”
“You’re too big for the couch, you take the bed.” Sky looked up at him.
“Oh, no. I’m not gonna be that prick,” he retorted and her brows went up in question. “The prick who acts like an ass and takes the bed. It wouldn’t be very gentle-manly of me to do that, so I’ll take the couch. Thank you very much.”
Sky shook her head. “Travis, I insist.”
“Nope, not happening, missy. You already think I’m a number of things that I’m not. I’m not givin’ you anymore fuel to light your big-ass fire.”
“Oh?” Skyla crossed her arms over her chest. “Go on, please? I implore you. Please tell me where I’m wrong about you?”
Damn her, she was so fucking self-righteous, it really stuck in his craw. Before he could answer, Miss Thang continued, “Cocky playboy, thinks he’s better than everyone else, can’t take a hint, show-boaty, arrogant, full-of-himself asshole.”
“Bitchy, cork stuck so far up your ass that it’s giving you a headache, know-it-all, prick-teasing, brain bigger than her tits, can’t let her fucking hair down for a second because God knows she might have an ounce of fun, ball-buster,” he retorted back, ticking off on his fingers.
“Ha,” she huffed, incredulously. She took a step toward him, finger in his face. “Has it slipped your mind that we’re being hunted down like animals? How in the hell am I supposed to find any fun in this, Travis?”
“Has it slipped your fucking mind that we both saw a man’s damn head blown off, his life ended in an instant?” he yelled back. “Excuse the hell out of me that I wanna enjoy the last few hours of my own life…in bed with a beautiful woman.”
By this time, they were within inches of one another, Travis’s nose almost touching hers, his lips a breath away. Her big breasts heaved against his chest, and he could feel his cock growing in response to their imposed closeness. Sky looked up at him, her mouth open in surprise. “You—you think I’m beautiful?” she asked, oblivious.
“Skyla, I’ve said it several times now. Why in God’s name do you not believe me? Whoever told you that you weren’t?”
Her blue eyes burned into his, taking his breath from his lungs and he reeled, unsure why she was still so damn insecure. She was slender, beautiful, smart and sassy—and had a passionate fire burning within her that could spark a conflagration, if only she’d just let someone in. He realized once more that she was hurting, hiding something that happened to her, a damaged spirit beaten down by society, by herself, and by a past she couldn’t let go of. She was a grown woman now though, not a teenager with teenage problems and flaws; she’d overcome her own battles, so why wasn’t she embracing this instead of crawling back into the shell that had held her captive?
Sky’s eyes closed and she squeezed them shut, a tear running down her cheek. Travis fingered it and brushed it softly away, cupping her cheek as he angled her head up. “Sky, look at me.” She shook her head, her lips quivering, holding in emotions he didn’t comprehend. “Please?” When she didn’t, he said, “Darlin’, I realize your fight isn’t with me. You’re lashing out because you’ve held shit in for a long time, ok? You’re not the only one here who’s been hurt by people in your past, though, so please stop acting like it.”
Her eyes shot open, realizing what he was trying to say and her brows drew. Anger took over again. “What the hell would you know?” she grumbled.
“Oh, I know. Far more than you’d ever think, in fact. But guess what? You’ve never asked me about my life, now have you? You’ve just assumed I’m like everyone else who’s ever hurt you, that I’m just some soulless asshole with no conscience. News flash, baby. I’m not.”
He released her and moved off to the kitchen, grabbing the remaining chips and salsa, Vienna sausages, a box of Fig Newtons, and a bag of Reese’s pieces as his stomach growled.
“Dinner’s on me. But you’re buying tomorrow night.” He grinned as he sat the items down on the coffee table and beckoned her to the feast of junk food before him.
She smiled big and came over, tucking her hands between her legs as she sat beside him and looked down. He felt an apology coming on, but before she could demean herself any more than she already had, he spoke again, “Look, I know emotions are high and have been for some time now over the last day. Just know that I’m not the man you assume me to be, and give me the benefit of a doubt. Could you, please? I know I’m not perfect by any means, and I have a short temper and a big head, but I’m still a human being with feelings like you.”
Skyla sat quietly for a long time, rolling his words over in her mind before she looked up into his eyes. “You’re right. I haven’t even given you a chance, have I? I stereotyped you.”
He nodded, but didn’t want to make her grovel. “It’s what people do, Sky. I’m a rich man who’s had his life handed to him on a silver platter, right?” When she looked back down at her lap, he continued, “Wrong. I’ve not always had it so easy. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am today. I’m a fighter. I enjoy what I do, love to travel, and dine on fine foods. I’m passionate and sometimes my passion tends to overstep my rationale. Perhaps you and I aren’t so different after all, are we?”
When her eyes came back up to his over the firelight, he saw something new reflecting in their cerulean depths—respect, realization, renewal—and she stilled.
“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, so can we eat and stop bantering like a bunch of enemies? I thought I was your lab partner, dang it.”
“Here. Let me throw another few logs on the fire.” Travis walked over and did just that, feeling the heat radiate from the old stove. “There we go.”
He moved back to the couch and opened a can of sausages, handing them over to Sky. His fingertips touched hers, scorching his skin where they did so. He shivered and watched her eyes as she froze.
The sparks between them were irrefutable, and he wondered if their lust would burn as hot as their anger toward one another did. If so, they were in for some scalding hot nights in the sheets. As ice-cold as this woman appeared to be on the outside—the resting bitch face was strong with this one—he knew it wasn’t so. Like the red in her hair, she reeked of pent-up fury that he craved to unleash as much as Poseidon loved releasing that damn Kraken. The allure of taming this banshee was as strong as that of opening Pandora’s box; Travis knew once unwrapped, Skyla’s passions would ignite a raging inferno that might consume everything in its path, including him.
He wanted the challenge, craved it, wanted her to be putty in his hands, poking the beast and drawing out the essence of her. But he was afraid, too; of exactly what he wasn’t certain, but there was something in her eyes that warned him away. Play with fire and you get burned. He knew the warning signs, but damned if he didn’t enjoy striking a match and seeing the embers dance.
Tangling with her promised to be the most thrilling test yet. And Travis made up his mind that he was up to the challenge. I will have her before all is said and done. She will be mine. And God help him if she pulled him into her web, for he might just be helpless to escape once entrapped by her.
CHAPTER THREE
Skyla awoke the next morning to the feel of a hard body against hers and something digging into her bottom.