Not Before Game Night (Bad Boy Bachelors of Orange County Book 4)

by Khardine Gray

  I still died a thousand deaths every time I remembered because the door had been unlocked and it was in the middle of the day, just like now.

  Anyone could have walked in.

  Anyone.

  Thank goodness no one really ever needed me like they did the others. The good thing about my work was, the staff here reached me by email.

  It was my family that I’d worried about; they had a habit of just opening the door and coming in.

  “Cole.” I tried to back out of his arms, but he caught me again for another kiss.

  He was supposed to be at the stadium half an hour ago. He’d dropped by to see me, and the minute I saw that lascivious glint in his eyes, I knew he’d come here to try to seduce me. It was because I didn’t stay at his place last night.

  That was my attempt to make sure he got some sleep.

  “Vanessa, come on, let’s just get in my car and drive back to mine,” he said, placing kisses all along my neckline.

  This was us a month later. We were in the middle of the football season, and while everyone else was going crazy for the game, we were like this. Crazy with each other. On this endless sex cycle. Doing it every chance we got.

  I pulled away again, and he frowned.

  “Cole, I’m serious. You looked so sad after the last game.” Because they’d lost. I knew he never said as much, but he blamed himself for being tired. And why was he tired?

  Because he’d spent the night before with me.

  He pretended to look hurt and gave a wicked smile when he came for me again.

  I giggled, swatting his hands away when he reached for me.

  “Cole, I’m very serious. Don’t let me feel guilty for keeping you away from what you should be doing.” Now I held up my hands, pressing against the solid wall of his chest.

  “Okay, fine. But for future reference, you never have to feel guilty about stuff like that. Also, for future reference, don’t wear that color if you want me to resist you. It’s too damn sexy.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head. “I’m wearing full black, Cole.”

  I had on a black business dress and black heels. I couldn’t have looked more professional if I’d tried.

  “Exactly. Like I said, too damn sexy.” He took a step backward and narrowed his eyes at me. I just looked at him trying to figure him out.

  I was surprised that I still couldn’t. Sometimes he’d throw me off what I thought I might have figured out by making some kind of face at me, or looking serious when he was messing around.

  I’d mentioned something along those lines in the article I did on him. The people loved it, and I loved that there was such a great response. I was currently working on the magazine, and while it was great thinking about all the players I’d get to include in it, I wished I could do something more on him. And not because he’d had me trapped in this bubble of bliss for the last four weeks.

  “What now?” I asked. Better to ask than to try and guess.

  “I’m wondering if she’ll say yes.” He nodded.

  “Okay, which she are we talking about? The girl who tattooed your name on her breasts, or the model who claimed you keep her underwear in a glass case?” I had to give myself credit for my award-winning act of cool as a cucumber. The woman who didn’t care that the man she was sleeping with every day had a whole world of admiring fans. Just now when I spoke, I almost believed I didn’t care. We could have been two friends talking about fries.

  The tattoo girl and the model were both in yesterday’s celeb gossip. The week before was definitely my personal favorite. Not.

  Fashion model Brittany Tate gave The National Enquirer a very juicy sauce of a story when she told them about her Coleridge Buchanan sexcapades. Eight Orgasms in One Hour was the title, and of course she went on to explain herself.

  I would have thought it was a load of bullshit and trash, like most people, if I didn’t know he could actually do that. The man was one of talent.

  He smirked as I looked at him, but there was something in his eyes that dimmed. “Neither. The she is you.”

  I pulled in a mental sigh and continued to stare at him. “What might I say yes to?”

  As if I’d managed to tell him no since we got together. It was always a yes, and I was certain that with the speed I was going at with my feelings for him, I’d end up following this man over the edge of a cliff if he asked me to.

  “Dinner with me tonight.” He nodded.

  “Ohhh, I like dinner. I saw this amazing recipe for Spanish chicken. It reminded me of that Mediterranean chicken you made last week.”

  He chuckled and put out his hand to stroke my cheek. “Dinner with me tonight at The Verge.”

  My heart stilled. He wanted to go out, as in out with me. Outside. We’d never been outside like we were a couple. All I ever saw was the bedroom or wherever a person could have sex. If he was seriously talking about what sounded like a date, then this would be very back to front. But us going to dinner would be a date. Normal. As in the thing two people did who liked each other.

  “Like a date?” I was nervous to ask.

  “Yeah, goddess. A date. We get dressed up, I stare at you all night and try to make you laugh. We eat, I take you home and fall asleep with you in my arms. Date.” His smile widened turning from sensual to reflective.

  A night like that with him sounded beautiful, and I wanted it. I wanted it badly, but wouldn’t that take us outside the remit of whatever we were?

  For the last four weeks, I saw him every day. I’d either wake up with him at his place or my place or go to sleep with him at his place or my place.

  It was fun. As far as I knew, he’d only been with me. Still, I kept my mind wide open and my sense of logic about me. I never allowed myself to think for one second that this man was mine.

  Except…

  Except for the moments when he was with me. He belonged to me then. At least that’s what I told myself.

  “Would a date of that nature ruin your image?”

  “I don’t care about image. I care if you say yes or not, goddess.”

  I’d noticed he’d taken to calling me that a lot.

  “So,”—he gave me a lopsided grin—“Vanessa Cartwright, will you go out with me on a real date?”

  I nodded of course, saying yes like I knew I would. It was a date. A date with him no matter what it meant. “Yes.”

  He smiled. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Eight sounds great.” I nodded, and he bent down to kiss me. It was another kiss that nearly pushed us to the arms of passion.

  He stepped back though and gave me a wink before he left.

  My lips burned with the memory of his kiss, and the memory of him lingered in my mind.

  My sisters all came to my place after work.

  We’d usually hang out back at the beach house the girls used to share or here, and the routine just stuck.

  They knew I had a date, so they took it upon themselves to do my hair and makeup, getting me ready while they told their crazy stories. They, as in Mia and Abby. As per usual, Taylor and I sat and listened, amused by the two. I was convinced that Abby took completely after Grandpa because the type of bizarre she came out with was unreal. It was also very clear that while she and Gilly were now husband and wife, they were still as insane as they had been when they were just best friends.

  “It’s true, you know,” she bubbled. “We saw her with him.” Abby nodded as she passed the eye shadow pallet to Mia.

  She was talking about Judge Witherspoon. Abby and Gilly thought the good judge owned a sex dungeon in her house.

  It was the first thing Abby came out with when they’d arrived.

  That was half an hour ago, and Taylor was still laughing at the thought of an eighty-year-old Judge Witherspoon dressed as a dominatrix holding a whip.

  “Abby, just because you saw whatever it was you think you saw doesn’t mean she has a sex dungeon,” Mia chided.

  The wild look that wa
shed over Abby’s face made me worry.

  “My dear sister,” she said, straightening, “allow me to finish the story.”

  Oh God. I already knew this was going to be some on-the-edge-of-your-seat shit.

  Mia stopped doing my makeup, and we all looked to Abby, who had a proud smile on her face as she whipped out her phone and showed us a picture of two men dressed in full leather and masks. One carried a whip. They were inside the house. We all gasped, and Taylor burst out laughing.

  “Abby, how did you get that?” Mia shrieked.

  “We broke in.” She nodded. “Got as far as the second floor.”

  “Abby, you did what?” I gasped.

  “Broke in. It was so cool. There were all these people at her house. Gilly and I snuck in from the back. I was spying and saw when they arrived. I knew there was some funny business going on last week when a van delivered what I thought looked like a cage.”

  There it was, and I would never be surprised if she and Gilly ended up in jail one day. While the rest of us grew up with that element of knowing right from wrong, they’d grown up without it.

  Kids for life. I guess, though, it was good for them. I couldn’t think of two people more suited for each other.

  What was I saying? That observation could apply to any of my sisters. And most especially to my parents who were my idols for the truest love.

  Taylor had Dylan, Abby had Gilly, Mia had Eric. Mom had Dad. Each couple was a perfect match. My sisters each had their own temperaments and relationship worries, but they had guys who were perfectly matched and suited them.

  I was the only one left, and my guy was…

  Well… he wasn’t anything like their guys.

  But still the man I wanted.

  Mia continued to do my makeup while Abby continued with her chatter and moved on to more gossip. I listened and tried to calm my thoughts.

  When Cole came to pick me up, it was probably a shock to see all of them, but he was cool about it and even cool when Abby highlighted the fact that we were always together and people might start to think as such.

  I laughed it off but noticed that he never protested or tried to make her think otherwise. He just said yes.

  It was a definitive answer, but what was more definitive was what he’d arranged at The Verve.

  I’d been here once for my birthday. It was for my last birthday. My whole family came.

  I’d loved it then. It was a chic Italian restaurant that overlooked the sea.

  Cole had hired out the terrace, and we were led to a lonely candle lit table that looked like it was plucked straight from the set of a film like Only You, which was actually one of my favorites.

  The whole thing stole my breath away, but what got me more than anything was the way he looked at me. It was like when he saw me, he saw me, the real me. Who I was inside and outside, and I was finding it very difficult to keep a grasp on the line I put up, separating what I wanted to feel and what I thought I should feel.

  We had a beautiful night, which went exactly as he’d said.

  Dinner, then back to his place, where I fell asleep in his arms.

  It was late morning when he took me back to my place, and what greeted us was the morning paper with a picture of us on the front.

  Coleridge Buchanan’s Latest Catch

  That was the headline.

  The media worked fast. Fascinated to hear what it would say, I started to read how the beautiful but shy wallflower Vanessa Cartwright was now dating the new wide receiver for The Centaurs.

  That was as far as I got before Cole took the newspaper from me.

  “Wow, they work fast,” I joked.

  “Yeah, they’re a bunch of assholes, but at least they got it right this time.” He smirked.

  I gazed up at him. “Right?”

  “Coleridge Buchanan’s latest catch.” He smiled. “But they made it sound like it was easy to get you, and nothing was further from the truth. The long mental hours of hard work I put into deep thought was all left out. Not to mention the deep, deep concentration it takes to think about football when I’m trying so hard not to think about you. Or, fuck, how I had to come up with a strategy to stop you from telling me no even before I opened my mouth.”

  I laughed and took both his hands into mine. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll accept your apology if you go out with me again tonight,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Yes… I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say no again.

  As he held me, I allowed myself to feel the rippling connection between us. A tango of fire, passion, raw undeniable chemistry. It was all there. All of it.

  I almost believed we could be like this forever.

  Chapter 17

  Cole

  It was official. I’d gone crazy.

  I was willing to accept it now.

  One hour before training saw me still at her house. At Vanessa’s house buried deep inside her while she cried out for more.

  She actually said the words, so I gave her more.

  I just about managed to get away from her enough to change my clothes before I left. I got to the stadium in good time too, then I got a call from her telling me I’d left my wallet and she was on the way over to drop it off.

  She did, except I never allowed her to leave me.

  I jumped in the car with her and ended up in the alley behind the stadium. To my knowledge, we had about ten minutes before I had to be on the damn field, and I’d have to jump the fence to get there in time.

  If only I could leave her lips and her.

  We were out here making out like a bunch of teenagers. Her with her shirt and bra undone, me ready to blow my load just from sucking her tits and kissing her lips.

  She kissed me like she wanted to devour me, and I couldn’t see how I would leave her to do anything.

  We would be leaving tomorrow for another away game. This time in Philadelphia, and she wasn’t going to be there. I didn’t know which was worse, the knowledge of her not being there or the fact that I would miss her more than I’d thought possible.

  She pulled back out of the kiss, and I could have screamed.

  “You have to go.” She winced.

  “Like fuck, Vanessa. Look at my damn dick. I’m pitching a tent. I can’t go anywhere like this.” It was agony. Aching to be inside her was damn agony, and I would have preferred to satisfy myself with her over facing the wrath of Coach Simpson.

  The loss of that last game against The Falcons made him lose his shit. I’d never been threatened with death so many times in all my life. Nor had I had so many threats to have my balls axed right off me just for breathing the wrong way. Fuck, the man was crazy.

  And yet… even with another possible death threat just for me, I was here wanting the gorgeous beauty.

  That saucy smile of hers melted everything from my mind. She leaned forward, an erotic sight in her little mini skirt and her tits bobbling in front of her. She kept steady eye contact while she ran her perfectly manicured fingers over my cock.

  It was times like this when the angel became the temptress. The wild seductress I’d taught her to be with the terrible influence I’d had on her.

  “I have the best idea. I can totally fix this little problem of yours, and you’ll even be able to make it to training on time.” She nodded, and there was nothing about the wildness in her eyes that resembled the sweet girl she had been only weeks ago.

  “Oh, yeah? I think you should definitely help me out.” I was nigh on drooling as my mouth watered at the sight of her.

  She gripped the head of my cock through my pants and started running her fingers up and down the shaft through the fabric.

  I didn’t know how I managed to control myself.

  I definitely deserved some credit for trying to look like I wasn’t ready to erupt like a volcano.

  She smiled at me while she undid the belt buckle and the zipper of my fly. Then she pushed my box
ers down, unleashing my aching cock. Just as I caught my breath, slender fingers gripped the base knowing exactly what to do to me.

  “Is this okay?” she cooed.

  “Holy fuck, Vanessa, what kind of question is that?”

  She giggled and lowered her dark velvet head to my cock. First, she ran her tongue over the length, making me harder, aching for release from the tension that was brimming deep in my balls.

  Her fingers continued to stroke until my cock strained upward in a thick curve of arousal nigh on explosion.

  By the time she placed that pouty mouth of hers over my shaft, I was ready to climax. That part was just from looking at her.

  I had to fight hard to stave off the release because I wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy this, enjoy her loving me with her gorgeous mouth.

  She started sucking, her head moving up and down, making me feel so damn good. This always felt good when she did it. Everything felt good when she did it.

  Everything felt good with her.

  She sucked, taking me so deep into her throat I groaned from the pleasure that washed over my body. Then she added her tongue as she sucked, sucking and licking the tip, desperate to have me.

  A deep growl rumbled within my chest as that need to erupt pulsated through me. The pleasure and everything about her was too much. I couldn’t fight it any longer. She sucked harder, speeding up her pace, and when she touched my balls, I knew I’d lose control. And I did. As she cradled my balls, the sweet suction of her mouth became overpowering. Alive with fire, my whole body tensed, and I came, spurting and spilling into her mouth. She held on to me drinking and sucking, allowing her mouth to milk me until she took in everything, including the last pearly drop that lingered on the tip of my cock as she rose.

  All I could do was stare at her as she gave me that seductive smile.

  Smiling yet holding back. I could see it in her eyes, because I did it too. Held back.

  I held back, and yet I wanted her so badly it scared me.

  “Feel better?” she asked in that nonchalant way. It was when she did that, that I saw the most emotion. Like silence speaking louder than actual words.