by Jamie Wesley
“Get your ass to my office right now.” Mack hung up the phone before Brady could answer.
Brady slammed his way out of the home he’d just entered.
Ten minutes later, Mack glowered at him from across his desk. “I don’t do lies. What the hell is going on? You know what I love about the year we’re in? No? Let me tell you. The internet. It sees all. It knows all. Until a few years ago, I was perfectly okay thinking that T, M, and Z were simply letters in the alphabet, but apparently, when you put them together, their superpowers activate.”
Brady’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Not that it was required. Mack was on a roll. “Now that they have, I’m taking calls and getting emails with some crazy footage of my star player getting in a fight in a club! It’s too damn late at night for all of this. What the hell were you thinking? No, don’t answer that. You weren’t thinking.”
The old insecurities pressed down on him. Hadn’t he been here before? In the coach’s office listening to a laundry list of his deficiencies. But he wouldn’t show fear. He thrust his chin up. “So what? Are you going to suspend or trade me now since I didn’t keep my nose clean?”
It wouldn’t be the first time someone didn’t have his back.
Mack stared at him incredulously. “No, I’m not going to trade you.”
Thank God he was sitting down. His knees couldn’t have supported him otherwise.
“I want you here,” Mack continued. “You’re the best damn point guard I’ve ever seen play, but I tell you what. I’m going to sit here until you tell me what the hell happened. I want the truth, not some cock-and-bull story you pull out of your ass.”
Brady lifted his chin. “I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s it.”
“That’s it?” Mack glared.
“Yes, that’s it.” He refused to back down. Refused to take someone else down with him.
“So you’re just going to let the media skewer you because of that lame-ass excuse?”
“I can’t control what they say. I don’t even want to try.”
“That’s your story?” Mack flung his pen down on the desk like it disgusted him. “That’s unacceptable. You need to issue a statement saying you regret your actions and that you apologize for letting the team and fans down.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mack didn’t respond.
Brady’s stomach tightened. “But you don’t believe me, do you?”
The look on his coach’s face told him everything he needed to know. The memory of sitting in another office with a different disapproving team official in another city clouded his vision.
Brady jumped up. “Keep your advice. I don’t need your help.” He stalked out of the office, ignoring his coach’s demands to come back.
“So today, Brady Hudson joins us again in studio for his weekly segment. Hello, Brady,” Noelle said.
“Hi,” he said to Noelle, while his attention remained focused entirely on Caitlin. He’d arrived late, and they hadn’t had time to talk.
“I don’t think I have to remind anyone that you’ve been in the news for something that occurred off the basketball court in New York a few days ago,” Noelle said. “Why don’t you tell us what happened in your own words?”
He turned his attention to the talk show host. “Please note this is the first and last time I plan to address this. My teammates and I went out in New York to celebrate a victory. A guy who’d had too much to drink decided he wanted to prove what a man he was, and he threw a punch. Unfortunately, I was the one he wanted to prove his manliness to.”
He’d watched the video of the incident because he’d wanted to know why he was the only one taking the heat for what had transpired in the club. Whoever had sold the footage had started filming when he stepped between the drunk guy and Maguire.
“So you weren’t hitting on another woman, which is what all the gossip sites are saying? That makes me feel better considering Caitlin is my best friend, and I’d have to hurt you for hurting her.” She said it with a smile, but the glint in her eyes was deadly serious.
“That’s a juicy story, but that’s not what happened. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Noelle shifted toward Caitlin. “How do you feel about this, Caitlin? What did you think when you saw that video?”
“I was shocked,” she said. “You never want to see someone you care about in that position, to see him get hurt.”
“Did you know what had happened? Did he call you?”
Caitlin nodded. “He did call when he got back to his hotel room that night. I felt so helpless.”
“So you don’t think he was cheating on you?”
“No, of course not,” Caitlin said, like that was the craziest thing she’d heard all week. “He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“You two have certainly told a different story than the one I’ve read about in the media,” Noelle said.
He tried not to be annoyed. He wasn’t successful. “I can’t control what’s being reported.”
After his segment ended, he and Caitlin rode the elevator down to the garage.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, staring straight ahead.
“Want to talk about what happened that night?”
“I’m fine.” The elevator doors opened and they exited.
“You sure?”
He looked at her then, into her pretty brown eyes. Why was she pushing him on this? Despite her on-air claims, did she share her best friend’s doubts about his story? His coach’s doubts?
Did he want to know? No, he didn’t. “Yes. I said I was done talking about this, and I am.”
“You know what? I have to go back to work.” She pivoted on her heel and reentered the elevator.
“Caitlin.”
She didn’t stop.
Brady knocked on the door. No, more like pounded. He had to get the frustration streaming through his veins out some way, and the door made for a mighty fine outlet, especially since it separated him from the person he needed to see. Now.
He’d had nothing but time to stew since his radio appearance. Before the show, he’d left practice without speaking to the reporters clamoring for a quote. Afterward, he’d returned to the gym. Usually the bounce of the ball on the wooden court and the swish of the ball through the basket soothed him. Not today.
He knocked again. His patience had run out. He would have answers, and he’d have them now.
The door wrenched open. Caitlin stood there, glaring at him. “What are you doing here, and why are you trying to beat down my door with your fist?”
He pushed his way past her into her apartment. “What the hell happened at the station?”
“I had to go back to work.”
He spun to face her so fast he was surprised he didn’t fall on his ass. “Really? That’s the way you want to play it?”
Her facial expression remained cool. Her tone, too. “Since that’s what happened, yeah, that’s how I want to play it.”
He didn’t believe her. She’d brushed him off, just like she was doing now. “I’ve had the day from hell. I don’t have the patience for this.” He shook his head and paced for a few steps. Then he stopped, his head popping up. He sniffed the air. “What is that?”
Panic flashed in her eyes. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
But he was already exiting the living room.
“Hey, come back here.”
Brady stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. Damn.
Caitlin stepped in front of him, presumably to block his view. Like that would work. He only needed to look over the top of her head. It was too late anyway. He’d seen all he needed to. His gaze dropped to the woman in front of him. Her lips had pursed in that sign of stubbornness he always viewed as way too sexy for his own good. “Got a lot going on, I see.”
“It’s just a cake,” she muttered.
“Yeah, and two pies, and abou
t two dozen chocolate chip cookies. Are you the room mom for a kindergartner who doesn’t exist?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Ha ha. Funny.”
The countertop of desserts let him know he wasn’t crazy. She had been acting strange. But he still wanted answers. “You bake when you’re stressed.”
Her chin lifted. “I bake when I bake.”
“Really? So everything’s fine?”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit. You don’t turn into Caitlin Crocker just because. I might be a guy, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Something’s bothering you. I want you to tell me what it is.”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He stared at her, then it hit him. He’d tried to reject the truth, but that was no longer an option. A sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. “Damn. You don’t believe me. You think I was hitting on that woman. Do you think I called you that night so I could have a fucking alibi? That I made up everything that happened? I told you what happened.”
Her eyes blazed. “No, you idiot. I’m not upset that it looked like you were fighting over another woman. I know what happened. I’m upset because you retreated. I’ve been there for you when you needed me as a pretend girlfriend, but more importantly as a friend.” Her tone softened. “And you pushed me away after the show, and I don’t know why.”
His stomach cramped. He’d caused that note of hurt in her voice. “Caitlin.”
She moved past him into the kitchen, and he followed her because he had no choice. He never did when it came to her. She paused at the counter. Stared down at the chocolate cake. “I took this out of the oven a few minutes ago. I’d just finished putting the frosting on when you barged in.” She shook her head, then raised her gaze. “Yes, I bake when I’m stressed. I’m so mad at you, but I still let you in my apartment.”
“Why?” He inched closer. He needed to be near her. To be next to her when whatever she was about to confess came out of her mouth.
“Because…because…”
“Because what?” he goaded.
Her eyes sparked fire. “Because, despite everything I’ve told myself, I care about you and I don’t know if I should.”
“You should.” The words came straight from his gut.
“Why?”
“Because.” He couldn’t say the words, could barely believe that she meant what she’d said. But she did. It was written all over her face. He might not be comfortable with the words, but he could show her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.
She tasted sweet. Chocolaty, like she’d swiped a bit of the frosting. He was hungry for her. Starving. He backed her up until she hit the counter. Good. He pressed his body against hers, her soft curves molding to him like melted butter. Yes. Exactly what he wanted, where he wanted to be. Who he wanted to be with.
He swept his tongue into her mouth, needing to be close to her in every way. Luckily for him, Caitlin was never a passive participant. Her tongue tangled with his, making demands of her own. Demands he was only too willing to meet.
All those times he’d lain awake remembering their previous kisses, denying to himself that he wanted to experience it again. His memories were shit. This was better than anything he’d imagined. Her mouth was made for his. They fit perfectly.
Caitlin. Caitlin. Her name resounded like a drum in his head. He barely held back a growl when she pulled back.
“Because what, Brady?” She stared at him, her lips parted, gasping in breath. She was really going to make him say it. But she’d been honest with him. She deserved the same consideration. And he wanted to share his deepest, most heartfelt feelings with her, something he’d never done with anyone else. He wanted that connection.
“Because I care about you, too.”
Her lips split into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “You do?”
“I do.” Desperate for more of her, he changed the angle of the kiss, going deeper. He couldn’t stop. He wanted her now. And he intended to have her. The late nights. The cold showers. The denials. They were all over. The time was now. For both of them.
Reluctantly, he tore his mouth from hers. He cupped her cheeks and tilted her face up to his. “Last chance to change your mind. Tell me to stop if you don’t want this. If you don’t…”
“If I don’t?” she asked breathlessly, her beautiful eyes cloudy with passion.
“I’m going to make you scream.”
She swallowed. “That’s a pretty big boast.”
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
“Really? Never?” She licked her lips. Looked away for a moment like she wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what she was thinking. He’d just said he cared about her and that he never lied. His pulse pounded with both anticipation and fear that she would say no thanks. Would she believe him? When she raised her face to his, he knew what decision she’d come to. She rose on her toes and whispered in his ear, “I suggest you get to it then.”
Joy like he’d never felt before filled his every pore. “Yes, Ms. Caitlin.”
In one motion, he stepped back, gathered her around the waist, and boosted her up to sit on the center island. He pushed aside the cake and stepped between her legs. Yes, this was better. Her lips were only a few inches away. They curled into a flirtatious grin. “You think I’m too short?”
“Yes.”
“Hey!”
Again, his mouth landed on hers. Her sweet taste blurred all his senses. They were blurred further when she wrapped her legs around him and ground against his erection. “Oh, God, Brady. You make me feel—”
“I make you feel what?”
“So damned good. Like I never have before.”
Another mind-blowing kiss followed. It lasted and lasted. He couldn’t find it within himself to stop. Then, she slipped her hands under his T-shirt. Her soft hands on him. That’s what he wanted. Almost as much as he wanted his hands on her. He gasped when she flicked one of his nipples. He broke away and grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head. He zeroed in on her breasts covered in a red bra. The underwear needed to go. He wanted to lick the nipples that had taunted him that night in New York. He dropped his head and pressed his mouth to the smooth sienna skin above her breasts.
“Whatcha waiting for, Brady? I haven’t screamed yet.”
The only impetus he needed. The bra was whisked away in a nanosecond. Caitlin didn’t try to cover herself. No, she leaned back on her hands, offering up the tempting mounds of her breasts, clearly not interested in playing the shy ingénue.
Worked for him.
Her nipples puckered like they were begging for his mouth. He was only too happy to oblige. Bursting with the need to do so, actually.
“Now, Brady. I can’t wait.” Her voice was strained. Needy. Music to his ears.
He skimmed one brown nipple with the tip of his finger, murmuring his approval and appreciation when it tightened. “Aww, baby, don’t say that. That’s a challenge I can’t resist.”
“What?” she muttered, her eyes fluttering open. “What are you doing?”
He’d already moved away. Set his sights on his prey. He reached for the cake. She rose on her elbows, her voice coming out breathless. Disbelieving. “You want to eat? Now?”
The most dangerous, sexiest smile Caitlin had ever seen in her life spread across Brady’s lips. “Absolutely.”
She gasped when a dollop of chocolate landed on her left nipple. Louder when his mouth covered the mound and licked. Curled around the pouting nipple. Nibbling on the chocolate, on her nipple. She grabbed the counter to stop from sliding down to the ground. He grabbed her hips and kept her anchored to the counter. His tongue swirled around and around. His tugs on her flesh sent a flash of heat straight between her legs.
Damn, he blew her mind. Every single time.
He swiped his tongue against her nipple again. Then she could no longer think. Only feel. Revel in his scent. His taste. In everything. Her eyes slid shut. Worries about what cou
ld happen no longer mattered. The time was now for them. And she would take it. Embrace it.
She didn’t notice he’d divided his attention until chocolate landed on her other breast. She moaned again. He tilted her back and slowly licked the chocolate from the slope of her right breast like it was a delicacy meant to be savored. For long seconds at a time.
Her eyes fluttered open. Despite his unyielding attention, he wouldn’t touch her where she longed to be touched. Her nipple strained for his attention. She’d be embarrassed by its wantonness, but how could she be? Brady was completely focused on her, the wild look in his eye enthralling her.
She wrapped her legs around his waist again and lifted her hips, grinding against his hard length, the action sending another jolt of arousal through her.
“Brady,” she moaned. The cotton of her panties rubbed against his jeans. The denim abraded her inner thighs. She loved it. She wanted more. “Please.”
“I know.” Finally his mouth slid down. She cried out at the first touch of his talented mouth against her nipple. He gave her the attention she’d craved, licking and sucking until she didn’t think she could take it anymore.
Again, she didn’t realize he was multitasking until his hand landed on her inner thigh. He skimmed one finger slowly, so slowly, upward toward where she wanted to be touched the most. He skimmed the edge of her panties toward her center. He pressed the material against her. Her panties had become so damp. With want. For him. Only him. But the contact only lasted a second before he switched thighs and started his exquisite torture again. Getting close, but not close enough. She twisted, needing him. Reaching for the bliss just out of her reach.
She moaned when he broke away. Louder when his mouth landed on her throat. He nibbled, he sucked. “Brady,” she whimpered. “Kiss me. Touch me.”
“Are you saying that I’m not satisfying you?” he whispered against her ear.
She gulped. “I, I…” She had no clue what she was saying. Not one single, solitary clue. Thinking was beyond her at that moment. Her brain was filled solid with heat, need, and desire.
