Ball Buster

by Kara Sheridan

  “How many dick pics do you need to post?”

  Ty shook his head. “None. That shit is sacred. The ladies post them, not me.”

  Carson rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen them. It’s not like you remove the tags when women tag you.”

  His best friend laughed. “Like dick, do you?”

  “I follow you on Twitter, asshole. That’s why I’m worried about you. Tone it down some, okay?”

  “Social media has nothing to do with how I play.”

  “Guess you should have read the fine print in your contract.”

  “Whose side are you on, Carson?”

  “The team’s. Yours. Mine.” Carson retreated a step and sucked down his orange-flavored drink, throwing the paper cup in the nearby trash can. “Don’t you ever get tired of the spotlight? The media up in your shit? The people using you for whatever scraps you’re willing to toss their way? The late nights? The hangovers?”

  Ty blinked. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

  “So, you do understand the problem, then? We don’t get to live normal lives. This uniform”—Carson tugged on his number 8 jersey—“comes with responsibilities and privileges. Finding the right balance is the challenge.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  “No.” Carson cupped Ty’s shoulder. “All of us. Coach wasn’t joking. Our asses are on the line. Especially yours and mine. Do you want to suit up in Dallas? New Orleans? Los Angeles?”

  “Jesus Christ.” Ty was silent for a moment. “You’re always trying to be the squeaky clean white boy. Hell no, I want to stay here with you, baby.”

  Carson laughed and puckered his lips. “Come here, add a little color to my life.”

  Ty shoved him away. “Think there’s been enough ass-kissing going on around here.”

  Glad the mood had shifted, Carson snagged his helmet off the grass.

  “What about red? Where’s that going, Carson?”

  Ty knew his history with Sadie. Carson blew out a breath and shrugged. “Hell if I know. And I hope you aren’t shooting your mouth off about us. The less anyone knows, the better. I’m not even sure if Sadie wants to keep seeing me.”

  The one thing he was certain of was that everything felt different. She hadn’t answered his texts since the night they’d made love. But that was about to change.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sadie closed the door to her small office down the hallway from the media room where she held her class. Scrolling through the shots of Ty on the field, she smiled, satisfied with the crisp images. She scrolled to her messages. A missed call from Leonard, one from Barbi, and three from Carson. Chewing on her bottom lip, she weighed her options of what to do about him.

  Her body was still recovering from the multiple orgasms. Aroused by the memory of Carson pumping inside her, she reached for the bottled water on her desk. She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Isolating him would only give him more of a reason to pursue her. She traced circles around the mouth of the plastic bottle.

  With a two-day break from training camp starting tomorrow, maybe she’d take the time to meet Barbi somewhere—rent a room on the beach and enjoy the sunshine.

  The door to her office opened, startling her.

  Carson filled the doorway. “Kitty Kat.”

  “People usually knock.”

  “I’m not people,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

  Unnerved by his intrusion, she pretended to scan through some of the papers on her desk.

  “Stop,” he said.

  She met his gaze. “Stop what?”

  “Avoiding me.”

  She folded her hands. “All right, Carson. You want the truth?”

  “Always.”

  “I made a mistake. We made a mistake.”

  “Is that what you call it? Stretched out on the hood of my car, screaming my name? What about the encore? Quite the performance for a mistake.”

  She groaned, picturing herself doggie style. “Hormones. Desperation. An overwhelming need to get laid.”

  He rubbed his stubbled chin, a spark of mischievousness in his fathomless eyes. “I like the last excuse best.”

  “You would.”

  He shrugged. “Can you blame me, Sadie? What am I supposed to think after seven years? You show up in Mobile, looking like you do—throwing me those fuck-you looks—challenging me at every turn…”

  “I could say the same about you!”

  “Maybe…”

  Honestly, she’d dressed to impress him every day. That little extra shake of her ass, the lingering stares from across the classroom, the ridiculous formality she insisted on between them, Mr. Savage this, Mr. Savage that. She couldn’t hide the smile.

  Carson moved closer to her desk. “I know that look.”

  “What look?”

  “That smile.”

  “A private thought, that’s all.”

  “Nope. You have the shittiest poker face, Kitty Kat.”

  Sadie’s mind was reeling. After all this time, she still couldn’t fool him. “Look, it’s been a long day, Carson. I’m hungry and exhausted.”

  Inviting himself to take a seat in the guest chair, he leaned his elbows on the desk. “We connected, Sadie, on every level. I still make you laugh. Still make you hot. And definitely still drive you crazy. Are you going to keep denying it?”

  He’d asked a similar question before. The only word to come to mind was no. Her heart twisted as she drank in his perfect features. He was threatening enough as a memory, but with the flesh and bone Carson sitting within arm’s reach, she couldn’t trust herself to do the right thing. Never could when it came to the two of them. They’d screwed their way across Alabama and back again as kids, on the beach, in his car, in his parents’ bedroom, at the school—anywhere with a flat surface.

  She unintentionally eyeballed the desk, feeling her cheeks flush.

  Carson shot up from his chair. “Sadie?”

  Very slowly, her gaze met his hungry eyes.

  With a sweep of his giant hand, he cleared the desk off and then reached for her. An avalanche of emotions and raw desire crushed her as she tore her blouse off, crawling on top of the desk.

  “Fuck…” Carson shed his shirt. “Looks like we’re doomed to keep making mistakes together.”

  She really didn’t care. All she wanted was his hot hands all over her body. On her breasts, ass, his fingers tangled in her hair. He took immediate control, tugging her over to his side of the desk, pushing her onto her back, and unbuttoning her jeans. She lifted her butt so he could ease the tight material down her hips. Growling with impatience, he paused to unzip her heeled boots, pulled them off her feet, and then tossed them across the room.

  Sadie admired his physique, the ridiculous six pack and chiseled pectorals. His arms were thick with muscles and covered with tattoos. But one patch of ink caught her attention the most—on the left side of his chest, just above the heart. Scrolled in elegant lettering was Sadie. Her eyes went wide as she read her name out loud. She’d forgotten about that tat.

  In a low voice he said, “Kept you close to my heart, Sadie.”

  Carson slipped his tennis shoes and shorts off, and his boxers followed.

  Under the bright overhead lights, she could see every bruise and scar on his warrior body. The brutality he suffered through every day just to stay on top of his game. The need to touch and kiss every mark made her heart burst. Then her gaze dropped to his stomach, following the blond happy trail to his erection. His cock was thick and long—as perfect as the rest of him.

  “Like what you see?” he asked.

  She more than liked it.

  Carson leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Every time you look at me like that, I want to fuck you.”

  As if on command, she spread her legs, inching closer to the edge of the desk—more than ready.

  Carson grinned, then tugged her jeans off. “How long has it been since I’ve seen your beautiful body?”

  Seven
years and five days. She’d kept careful count. They’d been partially dressed the other night when they made love on his car, and it was too dark to see him. “Too long,” she managed to whisper.

  “Too long,” he repeated, slipping his hand behind her back and unhooking her black bra.

  As the last article of clothing from her body fell away, Carson sucked in a breath. “Stop denying us, okay?”

  His hands covered her breasts, massaging gently at first, then squeezing them together as he lowered himself and circled her nipples with his tongue and fingers. They were made for each other. She knew it and needed to stop thinking about the past. Carson was right, he made her laugh, she loved talking to him about everything, and the awkwardness she’d expected to experience with him, well, it hadn’t happened at all. It felt so natural being with him.

  On a deep groan, Carson’s hand drifted down her stomach, his fingertips feathering over her core. Tingling sensations shot up to her nipples. Sadie draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

  He tasted so good, felt incredible against her hot skin.

  “One of these days,” he started, “we’re going to do this in a bed.”

  She nodded.

  “Come home with me tonight.”

  She nodded again.

  “Good girl. Now lift your arms above your head, Kitty Kat.”

  She followed his directions, just like she used to.

  Carson stretched her out underneath him, gripping her tiny wrists with one hand while he slid two fingers inside her, caressing her clit with the heel of his hand. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, riding his palm—letting the pleasure take hold. No one else could make her relax and let go, only Carson.

  “Baby…”

  She opened her eyes.

  “You ready for me?”

  She blinked several times, smiling up at him. “Yes.”

  Carson captured her lips as his cock plunged inside her, filling and stretching her. Almost instantly, her orgasm started, the soft, slow pulse of pleasure that promised to bloom into a mind-melting explosion if he kept thrusting so deep and fast. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Sadie closed her eyes and remembered what making love with him felt like seven years ago when she still loved him—when their futures were hopelessly intertwined.

  They’d been inseparable as teenagers. She opened her eyes and sighed, gazing up at him, finding that confident, boyish grin.

  No doubt their bodies were making up for lost time—hearts desperate to recapture the past. And though that voice in the back of her head kept asking, if it didn’t work out before, why would it now? She realized she should trust herself, and Carson. He’d told her to trust her gut the other day. And as she looked up at him, recognizing the powerful emotions in his eyes, she wondered if either one of them had ever really stopped loving each other. Maybe love was the wrong word at the moment, but the feelings were overwhelming and real.

  “Carson…I-I’m going to…”

  He silenced her with a demanding kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, his grip growing tighter around her wrists. Carson muttered a curse as he rotated his hips, his last thrust setting them both off.

  A few minutes later, Carson rested his head against her chest, still breathing hard. “You’re mine again, Sadie.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. As long as you don’t hurt me again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As Carson’s truck turned into the magnolia-lined driveway, Sadie rested the soles of her bare feet on his dashboard, breathing in the fresh air from the passenger-side window she’d just opened. For some reason, she felt completely relaxed, had even traded her heels for sandals, her jeans for shorts, and her typical business jacket for a girly T-shirt when Carson stopped by her hotel room for her to pick up some clothes for the weekend.

  He’d mentioned his home in the College Park area several times. She smiled when the driveway curved to the left, the trees opening up and revealing a two-story house with a wraparound porch on the bottom and a smaller one on the second floor. The main entryway consisted of two sets of intricately patterned beveled-glass French doors with black-shuttered picture windows on either side. Antique copper tubs filled with blooming roses lined the walkway to the stairs leading up to the porch.

  Carson parked in front of a detached four-car garage, climbed out of his truck, then walked around to the passenger’s side and opened her door.

  “The property is amazing,” she said, getting out of the truck.

  “Thanks, Kitty Kat. Wait until you see the gardens and the kitchen.”

  Her stomach protested as she started to follow him around the side of the house. Carson stopped and grinned.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving,” she admitted, cupping her stomach. “Orange juice and a granola bar doesn’t qualify as a meal.”

  Carson looked at his watch. “It’s four o’clock. That’s all you’ve eaten today?”

  She nodded.

  “You know better than that.” Carson slipped his arm around her waist, urging her to turn around.

  They walked back to the front entrance and climbed the three steps to the porch.

  Sadie admired the wicker furniture, a half dozen rocking chairs and three loveseats with matching footstools. On the far end was a two-man hammock. A dozen ceiling fans were on, providing some relief from the afternoon heat.

  The front doors opened. “Sweet Jesus,” a woman said.

  “Tamera?” Sadie couldn’t believe it.

  Tamera smiled and opened her arms wide. “Give an old woman a hug!”

  Sadie did just that, genuinely happy to see her. “It’s been so long.”

  Tamera pulled back so she could look Sadie in the eyes. “Time has been kind to you.”

  Sadie’s cheeks heated. “Thank you, Tamera. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Tamera shook her head. “Twenty pounds in seven years says different.” She gazed at Carson. “His fault, of course. Ever cook for a football team?”

  Carson laughed and threw his hands up. “Cook doesn’t mean eat.”

  Tamera chuckled. “Have you ever met a Southern woman who doesn’t like to sample what she cooks?”

  “Never,” Carson answered.

  “That’s right,” Tamera confirmed. “Now move out of the way so I can get this pretty lady out of the heat.”

  Sadie followed Tamera inside. The spacious foyer featured a stairway and what Sadie guessed was the original tin-tiled ceiling. The tiles matched the intricate diamond design on the beveled French doors. Smiling, she stepped closer to the nearest wall to get a better look of a series of framed photographs—surprised to see several that included her.

  Memories flooded her mind as she gazed at faces she hadn’t seen in so long. A shot outside the school in front of the buses before the team left for an away game. Another group picture at the lake. But the one that really made her heart skip a beat was from their Disney-themed junior prom. Carson and Sadie had reenacted the spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp.

  She swallowed back the raw emotions from the shock of knowing the same photograph was hanging in her home—a prized moment she never wanted to forget.

  The heat of Carson’s body behind her made her shiver. “What’s wrong, Kitty Kat?” he whispered close to her ear, his hot breath on her neck making her body sizzle with desire.

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  “Did you think I’d ever really let you go?”

  Turning around, she gazed up at him, gauging his sincerity. The headlines surely showed he’d more than let her go. How many women had she seen him with over the last seven years? Twenty? Thirty? All supermodel types who likely wanted to benefit from his fame or were after his fortune. “I don’t know, Carson. Didn’t you?” She arched a brow, interested in hearing what he’d say. Would he make excuses? Feed her the usual line most men used—none of them meant anything? After all, she’d only had two lovers since they’d broken up.

  Bef
ore Carson could answer, Tamera coughed politely, obviously reminding them that they weren’t alone. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she announced before trotting away.

  “She’s amazing,” Sadie said. “I can’t believe she’s here.”

  “Try telling Tamera no. She’s already earned a full retirement and should be passing the time on a beach in Hawaii or jet setting around Europe. Instead, she wants to be here with me. I offered to hire a maid and she told me she wouldn’t let a stranger work in our house.”

  “You’re lucky to have her.”

  “I know,” Carson said. “And I’m lucky to have you, too.”

  Their gazes locked, and Sadie struggled to take a steady breath.

  “You mean the world to me.” Carson slanted his mouth over hers, stealing a kiss.

  As he pulled back, Sadie closed her eyes. Years of emotional and physical depravation had made her hungry for more than Tamera’s cooking. “Carson,” she whispered, staring at him.

  “You okay?”

  “I’ve missed you so much.” In all honesty, she couldn’t accurately describe what she was feeling.

  “It will all be okay, Kitty Kat,” he assured her. “There’s no pressure here. I want you happy and comfortable. Let me give you a tour before dinner. We can grab your bag after.”

  “Did you decorate this place?”

  “Most of it,” he said. “Mom and Tamera helped with the antiques, and some were included with the house.”

  Carson escorted her through another set of French doors that opened into a sunny room with a cove ceiling. A padded seat ran the length of six windows—the perfect place to spend an afternoon reading a book. Candles decorated the fireplace mantel, and the mahogany dining room set must have been from the eighteenth century.

  “Elegant,” she commented, impressed with Carson’s taste. “The windows are my favorite thing about this house.”

  “That’s what caught my eye,” he said. “The natural light.”

  She’d always wanted a home with lots of windows and wood floors.

  He showed her the living room next, then his office, den, and kitchen, before she followed him upstairs. The landing overlooked the first floor and had a sitting area with more windows. The master suite was on one side of the landing, the remaining bedrooms on the other.