by Lexi Ryan
Table of Contents
Title Page
Other Books by Lexi Ryan
About In Too Deep
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
In Too Deep Playlist
Contact
Acknowledgments
Copyright Notice
The Blackhawk Boys
Spinning Out (Arrow’s story)
Rushing In (Chris’s story)
Going Under (Sebastian’s story)
Falling Hard (Keegan’s story)
In Too Deep (Mason’s story)
Love Unbound
If you enjoyed this book, you may also enjoy the books in Love Unbound, the linked series of books set in New Hope and about the characters readers have come to love.
Splintered Hearts (A Love Unbound Series)
Unbreak Me (Maggie’s story)
Stolen Wishes: A Wish I May Prequel Novella (Will and Cally’s prequel)
Wish I May (Will and Cally’s novel)
Or read them together in the omnibus edition, Splintered Hearts: The New Hope Trilogy
Here and Now (A Love Unbound Series)
Lost in Me (Hanna’s story begins)
Fall to You (Hanna’s story continues)
All for This (Hanna’s story concludes)
Or read them together in the omnibus edition, Here and Now: The Complete Series
Reckless and Real (A Love Unbound Series)
Something Wild (Liz and Sam’s story begins)
Something Reckless (Liz and Sam’s story continues)
Something Real (Liz and Sam’s story concludes)
Or read them together in the omnibus edition, Reckless and Real: The Complete Series
Mended Hearts (A Love Unbound Series)
Playing with Fire (Nix’s story)
Holding Her Close (Janelle and Cade’s story)
Hot Contemporary Romance
Text Appeal
Accidental Sex Goddess
Decadence Creek Stories and Novellas
Just One Night
Just the Way You Are
New York Times bestselling author Lexi Ryan brings readers a sexy NFL player who’s pulled out all the stops for one more chance with the love of his life.
I have four months to make my wife fall in love with me or let her go forever.
I loved Bailey Green long before she watched her loser ex take his last breaths. I held her while they lowered his coffin into the ground, stilled her shaking hands when the nightmares would tear her from sleep. I waited for her through her grief. But while she was always willing to let me in her bed, she refused to let me in the one place I longed to be—her heart.
Tired of playing second string to a dead man, I let her go. I moved to Florida to begin my NFL career and tried to pretend my perfect life didn’t leave me empty. I’d almost given up. Until one drunken night in Vegas, we stumbled down the aisle and said, “I do.”
In exchange for the divorce she wants so badly, she’s agreed to remain my wife until the end of the year. She has no idea the favors I’ve called in or the lies I’ve told to get her here, but if I succeed, none of that matters.
My secrets always seemed justified, but Bailey has her own—secrets that explain why she always pushed me away, secrets that make me wonder if I should have let her. Now we’re in too deep and I might lose the only girl I’ve ever loved and the best friend I’ve ever had.
In Too Deep is a sexy and emotional novel intended for mature readers. It’s the fifth book in the world of the Blackhawk Boys, but can be enjoyed as a standalone.
Football. Secrets. Lies. Passion. These boys don’t play fair. Which Blackhawk Boy will steal your heart?
Book 1 - SPINNING OUT (Arrow’s story)
Book 2 - RUSHING IN (Christopher’s story)
Book 3 - GOING UNDER (Sebastian’s story)
Book 4 - FALLING HARD (Keegan’s story)
Book 5 - IN TOO DEEP (Mason’s story)
For Stef
There’s a ring on my finger and a man in my bed. Neither was there yesterday, and neither was in my plans. Hello, Vegas, you tricky bitch.
I don’t have to look to know Mason Dahl is the man holding me. I know it’s him—just like when you wake in the middle of the night, disoriented from a nightmare, and before you open your eyes, your heart rate slows because you know you’re home.
He has one strong arm slung across my waist and his bare chest pressed against my back. His lips skim across my shoulder. “Good morning,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes my body awaken like the smooth slide of his skin against mine.
Reaching toward the ceiling, I hold my hand above our bodies. “There’s a ring on my finger.”
“I’ve got one of those too,” he says, and he’s so casual about it. His mouth opens against my neck, warm and teasing, before his kisses turn to little nibbles. He slides a hand up my bare stomach to cup my breast, and my mind latches on to the possibility of this as my new life—of feeling Mason’s tender kisses every morning, of getting to talk to him after a bad day, of sleeping in his bed and waking in his arms. I’ve spent years coming to terms with that life being some other girl’s reality. I never let myself imagine it could be mine.
With a hand on my shoulder, he guides me to my back, and his gorgeous green eyes lock on mine as he positions himself on top of me. “You know how long I’ve been lying here waiting for you to wake up?”
A moan escapes my lips at the weight of him right where I want him, but I force myself to focus. I press my hands to his chest before he can lower his mouth to mine. “Why is there a ring on my finger?” But my brain has been lulled into submission by the feel of his body, and all logic must have abandoned me, because I don’t sound the least bit panicked. My words are soft and low, almost flirty.
“I’m pretty sure we got married.” His eyes crinkle in the corners. He is so goddamned good-looking that it makes me want to forget the panic I should be feeling. Behind that smile is a man who dated me when I was still a stripper and treated me like I was precious. This is the guy who wiped my tears and held me through my sobs as I grieved for another man. This is the man who waited and fought for me even when I didn’t deserve it.
If a girl is going to wake up in Vegas, surprise-married to someone, she couldn’t do much better than Mason Dahl.
“We can’t be married.” I mentally catalogue last night: dinner, burlesque show, dancing, and too many drinks at every stop. I’m trying really hard
to concentrate on finding rational Bailey somewhere beneath all this lust and longing, but she’s hiding. Coward.
Maybe I’m still a little drunk. When we were drinking last night, I figured we’d end up sleeping together. I hoped. I wanted him . . . just one more time. I still do.
My legs part instinctively, letting him settle between them. His face softens, and his eyes float closed as he exhales. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.”
Me too. God, have I missed it. He feels so damn good—hot skin and hard muscle, like he woke up ready to touch me, thinking only of touching me. His eyes open again and lock on mine, and I know his thoughts haven’t strayed off course.
Sleeping with Mason is one thing. But marrying him? Maybe this is a dream; maybe I don’t have to be logical about anything and can just enjoy. Panic fights its way to the surface of my consciousness, but I push it away and draw my knees up to his waist. We can deal with these pesky rings later, can’t we? I want to relish this moment.
I can’t. The ache in my heart won’t let me. No matter how good he feels here. No matter how much I’ve missed him.
His gaze drops to my breasts, his lips twisted in raw hunger. I take his face in my hands, guiding him to meet my gaze. “Focus.”
“I’m pretty damn focused.”
Dear God. I didn’t even realize how much I missed that husky rumble of his voice. Goosebumps dance across my skin, and my thighs clench instinctively. I long for the feel of his breath against my ear as he slides inside me.
He dips his head and presses a kiss to the top of one breast and then the other. I arch into him, because that mouth . . . “Was there somewhere in particular you wanted me to focus? I aim to please.”
I don’t want to protest. I want to sink into the pleasure of his tongue flattening against my nipple and the gentle pressure of his hand cupping my breast. “Focus on the rings we’re wearing,” I say weakly.
“But they’re not nearly as interesting as your body.” He pauses a beat and lifts his head to meet my gaze. “Unless they mean I get to taste you every morning.”
Every morning. “No.” Now the panic surges, more powerful, bringing a wave of nausea with it. “This is a disaster.”
He rolls off me and sits on the side of the bed, scraping a hand over his face. “Not the way I hoped to start our first day as husband and wife.”
I gape. “You can’t be serious.”
He tosses a glance at me over his shoulder. “We’re fucking great together.” He swallows. “Or we were. Once. Is it really the worst thing that could have happened?”
No. The worst is knowing I have to undo it. The worst is knowing I have what I want in my hands and a past that requires me to give it back. This isn’t the worst. This is just a ripple in the pond of my mediocre life. This is just fate teasing me with what I can’t have. “We can’t be married.”
“Of course. Because you don’t want me unless you’re drunk or I’m offering a no-strings night in my bed.”
I don’t flinch. Other girls might, but not me. Why flinch when it’s true?
My phone buzzes, and the sound of Mia’s ringtone makes me wilt. My sole job for the next two weeks is to not fuck up Mia’s perfect day. We’re in Vegas for her bachelorette party, and in two weeks it will be her wedding. I want to go to her and tell her I woke up married. I want to beg her to help me fix it. Mia is a fixer, and when she can’t fix, she listens. But telling her would open a whole can of worms I’m not prepared to deal with, so I ignore the phone.
“We really got married?” I sound weak. Helpless.
Mason stands, and I can’t help but watch as he swaggers toward the minibar and pulls out a bottle of water. He unscrews the cap and drains half of it in one long pull before replying, “We did.”
“Wh-why?” How drunk was I that I thought that was a good idea? How drunk was I that I believed I was someone else—someone good enough for him, someone who hasn’t made promises that can’t be broken?
He winces then grabs a second bottle of water and brings it to me. “Drink this.”
I sit up in bed and take a sip. My stomach rolls in protest. I have to fix this, and fast. “Can we keep this quiet?”
“What exactly are we keeping quiet?”
I hold up my hand. “This marriage? This ring? Oh my God.” I yank it off my finger, grab his hand, and press it into his open palm. “The media is going to go crazy if they catch wind.”
He searches my face. “It would make an okay story, but not an outrageous one. NFL player marries old friend in Vegas?” He shrugs, as if the idea of our mistake flashing in headlines is of no consequence to him.
Shit, fuck, damn. What have I done?
He got the headline wrong. It would read, NFL player marries stripper in Vegas. And he’s wrong about the other part, too. The media would love this story. They’d make it out to be outrageous and dig for dirt on me—not that it would be hard to get something juicy. The stripper thing isn’t exactly a secret, and it would probably satisfy them enough that they wouldn’t bother to dig deeper. Please, God, don’t let them dig deeper.
There are other people who wouldn’t love the story of our impulsive marriage, people who’d be quick to remind me I’ve made promises.
“We can’t let that happen. Mia and Arrow—their wedding,” I stammer. There’s a special place in Best Friend Hell where I’ll burn for using Mia as an excuse to keep this mistake quiet. “We can’t have the media hounding us for a story when the next two weeks should be about them. The last thing Mia needs right now is me stealing the show with my drama.” My phone rings again, and again the ringtone tells me it’s her. She’s probably wondering where I am. I can’t avoid her much longer. “Can we just keep this quiet and figure it out on our own?”
“Sure thing.” His jaw is hard as he digs my phone from my purse and tosses it on the bed. “It’ll be our secret.” Then he walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him, his anger rolling off him in waves and making me feel like a world-class bitch.
Bill McCombs smacks me between the shoulder blades so hard that I choke on the water going down my throat. “How you doing there, son?” he asks, his voice too loud, too jovial.
Coughing, I pull my water bottle from my lips and wipe at my mouth with the back of my hand. I stayed after practice to run more routes with Dre, and now I’m sweaty and exhausted and in desperate need of an ice bath. “Good to see you, Bill,” I say between coughs.
“Have you talked to my daughter recently?”
Oh, fuck. The Florida sun is beating down on me, but at the mention of Bill’s daughter, a chill goes up my spine as if I were already in the ice bath waiting for me in the locker room. Bill McCombs is the owner of the Gulf Gators, the NFL franchise that signed me for two years after I graduated from Blackhawk Hills University. Last spring, I made the biggest mistake of my adult life when I took his daughter—my former girlfriend, Lindy—home with me. I’ve been waiting for it to come back and bite me in the ass.
He chuckles a little too loudly. “She’s coming to town after training camp, and she’ll be right in your backyard all regular season.”
I clear my throat. “I saw her when she was here for spring break. I think she mentioned it then.” Tread carefully, Mason. “She’s coming for an internship. Is that right?”
“That’s right. My baby girl’s gonna be a marketing mastermind.” He rubs his hands together. “But more importantly, you two can be reunited.”
I try to get a read on his features. What does he know? Does he mean reunited for the first time since we dated in high school, or reunited for the first time since April?
“I didn’t know you met up with her in April, you old dog.” He smacks my shoulder. “My girl still talks about you all the time. She admires you and what you’ve made of yourself so much. To be honest, Mrs. McCombs and I are pretty proud of you too. We’ve always seen you as a son.”
“Thank you.” This time my smile is sincere. The McCombs are old family friends. They were prac
tically a second set of parents to me when I was growing up. I appreciate everything they’ve done for me over the years, even if I’d rather they lay off on the whole matchmaking thing.
“You’ll make sure you’re around for her welcome-home party? The whole team’s invited, of course. We need to celebrate the start of her real career. My girl’s gonna do big things. Can’t wait.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” I hope this is the end of the conversation, but I’m worried it’s just the beginning of the mess I’ve made for myself.
Hayden Owen catches my eye from where he’s standing a few feet away on the sideline. He arches a brow before sticking his tongue in the side of his mouth in a lewd miming of a blowjob. I know he’s telling me to suck up to Bill, but he has no idea that my relationship with Bill is far more complicated than that of the typical player and team owner. I’ve never told Owen about Lindy.
“I’ll see you at the party,” Bill says, and he heads over to talk to the coach.
What did Bill say to me after drafting me in the second round? “I’m just looking out for my family. I wouldn’t want your career in anyone else’s hands.”
I thought he meant “family” in the metaphorical sense, but now I have a sick ache in my gut that tells me he was looking out for Lindy by giving me a job, and now he’s ready to see his plans come to fruition.
That son of a bitch is dodging my calls.
Alone in my car with the sun beating down on me through the windshield, I scowl at my phone as if it alone is responsible for putting me in this situation. When I woke up in Vegas with Mason’s ring on my finger, my biggest concern was keeping it quiet. After he agreed to that, I assumed the divorce part would come easily. The marriage was a mistake for both of us, so ending it was the obvious solution. Right?
But no, two months later and we’re still married. He’s making it impossible for me to make arrangements to change that. I’ve called him half a dozen times since Arrow and Mia’s wedding, and he either doesn’t answer or is too busy to talk. If we stay married for much longer, someone’s going to find out about it. And if one person does, someone else will, and eventually it will get back to the wrong people.
