Scoring Off the Field

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Scoring Off the Field Page 20

by Naima Simone


  “The video,” she rasped, still more than a little shocked over it. “It was…”

  “Over the top?” He smoothed a hand over her hair, then trailed the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “I know. Greg said it will either piss the head office off or have them scrambling to keep me since they’re on notice that I’m willing to leave.”

  She shook her head. “Greg?”

  “My new agent,” he clarified, his smile now containing a hard edge. “I fired Brian’s ass. He admitted the shit he said to you, and I got rid of him on the spot.”

  He kicked Brian to the curb for her? These revelations were going to do her in. Those tears that had stung her eyes spilled over. “Damn it,” she muttered. “No one has ever…” Her throat closed, and she was unable to finish the sentence.

  “Shh.” He swept his fingers over her damp cheeks. “I would do that and more. You’re my world.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed him, pouring into the mating of mouths everything she couldn’t say. “Now,” she brushed her lips over his chin, “take me home.”

  Surprise and joy flared in his eyes. “What about the interview? The job?”

  “You’ve given me a family, a home, a place to belong.” She brushed her fingertips over his jaw, his mouth, his eyebrows. She just couldn’t stop touching him. “All of those are in Seattle. I’ve already turned the position down and was heading home when you showed up.”

  “Tenny,” he rasped against her hair, pulling her back into a tight embrace. “I wouldn’t have asked you to do that. You didn’t have to.”

  “I know,” she said. “And I have a couple of conditions.”

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he scattered kisses over her cheeks and mouth. “Anything you want.”

  “First, you pick my replacement from that stack of résumés because I really am quitting as your PA.”

  He laughed. “Done. What else?”

  “I’m setting up an appointment with a counselor because I’m getting over this fear of hospitals. That needs to be in my past where it belongs. I need you to not let me chicken out.”

  His gaze roamed her face, and she flushed from the admiration he didn’t try to hide. “Done. And I know you can do it. The way you barreled into that hospital room? You’ll conquer it,” he murmured. “What else?”

  She pressed her lips to his chest, cherishing every strong beat of his heart. A heart that she no longer doubted belonged solely to her.

  “Get me naked.”

  Dom grinned, and bending, cupped her ass and hiked her in the air. Laughing, she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he headed toward the bed. Seconds later, she bounced against the mattress, and his big body came down, covering her.

  “Done.”

  Epilogue

  When the security alarm beeped and the front door to their house—holy shit, their house—opened, Tennyson stood in the foyer, waiting for Dom while wearing his jersey. And nothing else. Except maybe a wide grin.

  Dom punched in the code to silence the alarm and turned. Then froze. His duffel bag hit the floor with a thud, and heat flared in his blue, hooded eyes. His gaze traveled from the top of her head, down her unbound breasts beneath the jersey that barely covered her girly parts, and continued to her bare feet. On the slow return trip, he lingered over her upper thighs, and her flesh started to tingle and pulse in response. Yep, he could still turn her completely on with just one look. The man had skills.

  “Congratulations,” she greeted, straightening her arms from behind her back and revealing the two bottles of Corona she’d hidden. “You were awesome.”

  She grinned, and his beautiful mouth turned up in an answering smile. Despite missing Wednesday and Thursday’s practices to come declare his undying love in Ohio, his coach had played Dom. After a dismal first half with the backup quarterback, where the Warriors lagged behind the division leading Carolina Panthers at 28 to 7, Coach Declan had put Dom in. And her man had shown the fuck out. The Warriors had pulled out the win against the Panthers, 35 to 28, final score. All of the commentators were off their heads over the fact that number seven had his mojo back.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, peeling off his coat and dropping it to the floor alongside his bag. He removed his sneakers and left those there, too. “Which is my present? The beer or you?”

  “Why choose?” she asked, twisting off the cap and, tipping her head back, downing a large, long gulp. “I was reading up on things we could do with beer that didn’t sound all that sanitary but hella fun.” She twirled the bottle by the neck, chuckling when he stalked forward, dragging his thermal shirt over his head.

  God, she’d never imagined she could be this happy. It’d only been three days since they’d returned from Dayton, but her world had shifted, changed so it was almost unrecognizable. She’d applied to DSHS Children’s Administration for a social worker position. In the meantime, she’d also narrowed down two candidates to replace her as Dom’s PA, and he hadn’t vetoed either one. And, her first appointment with a counselor was set for the following Wednesday. Yes, she’d been super busy.

  She’d done it all with Dom’s support and love.

  Dom had added his own stipulation before they’d left that hotel room in Dayton: that she move in with him as soon as they returned. That had been a no-brainer for her. She wanted to be near him, sleep with him, make love to him, and wake up to him every morning knowing she was the most loved woman on this planet.

  A buzz echoed from the vicinity of Dom’s pocket. Cursing, he removed his cell and glanced at the screen. A second later, he replaced it.

  “Who was that?” she asked, backpedaling up the stairs, finding it hard to concentrate on speaking when that hard, tight chest was on full display.

  “Ronin,” he said, climbing up after her. “Wanted to know if we had any plans tonight.”

  “Huh. I thought he would’ve been hunting down the friend Renee brought to Doyle’s Friday night. He seemed into her.” She frowned. That was an understatement. She’d never seen Ronin as captivated by a woman as he had been at the dive bar. “What was her name? Kim?”

  “Uh-huh,” Dom murmured. With one swift movement, he shoved down his joggers and kicked the pants down the stairs. Good God. His cock rose, flushed, thick, long, and gorgeous. That pulse in her sex ramped up to a full-out rumba. Her nipples peaked, her whole body transforming into a divining rod attuned only for him. “Tenny?”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, still staring and growing hotter by the second.

  “Are you going to talk about Ronin and his love life all night, or are you going to do something with this.” He swept a hand down his chest and fisted his cock, stroking up, up, up until his hand swallowed the glistening tip. He groaned, and it was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.

  “I’ll take B, Regis. And that’s my final answer.” With a snicker, she turned and raced up the rest of the stairs, whipping the jersey over her head.

  He was hot on her heels, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

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  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my heavenly Father, who has made all of this possible. I willingly put all of my hopes and dreams in Your hands, because there’s no safer place. Your love for me continues to amaze me.

  To Gary, my real-life hero. Now, you might not have long, Jason Momoa–esque locks, but you are my heart and my rock. Thank you for your unfailing love and support. And we can always fix that hair thing. Wig stores, man.

  To Dahlia Rose. Our writing challenges got this book done! Well, the writing challenges and the Lord of the Rings references and GIFs. LOL!

  To Debra Glass. Thank you for your critical eye and bawdy sense of humor. :) Both make you the best critique partner!

  To my Football Council. Gary, Daddy, Konard, and Kevin. You guys mi
ght tease me mercilessly about my football ignorance, but okay, I kinda deserve it. Hah! But you always come through with the answers, knowledge, and football dialogue. Including the F-bombs. Hee-hee!

  To Andie Rutledge. You just brought Seattle alive for me and enabled me to pour that love of your city into this series. Thank you for always being patient and willing to answer any of my questions! You’re my Seattle guru, and when I pop up on your doorstep, don’t kick me out!

  To Rachel Brooks. Thank you for being that rational, put-the-pizza-back-in-the-oven voice. LOL! Your support and experience has been invaluable. And let’s just say it. Best. Agent. Evah.

  To Tracy Montoya. If the Justice League superheroes were editors, you would be Wonder Woman. And your Lasso of Truth would be your mighty pen. Yep, you’re definitely a superhero. And you save my books like they were clueless civilians about to be crushed by a falling building but are too busy gaping to move out of the way. Thank you for ALWAYS swooping in to save the day. AKA, book. AKA, my ass. *whispers* Can I say that?

  About the Author

  Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey, Sandra Brown, and Linda Howard many years ago. Well, not that many. She is only eighteen…ish. Though her first attempt at a romance novel starring Ralph Tresvant from New Edition never saw the light of day, her love of romance, reading, and writing has endured. Published since 2009, she spends her days—and nights—creating stories of unique men and women who experience the first bites of desire, the dizzying heights of passion, and the tender, healing heat of love.

  She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bulletproof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically challenged bliss in the southern United States.

  Come visit Naima at www.naimasimone.com.

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  Also by Naima Simone…

  Only for a Night

  Only for Your Touch

  Only for You

  Beauty and the Bachelor

  The Millionaire Makeover

  The Bachelor’s Promise

  A Millionaire at Midnight

  Witness to Passion

  Killer Curves

  Secrets and Sins: Gabriel

  Secrets and Sins: Malachim

  Secrets and Sins: Raphael

  Secrets and Sins: Chayot

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