“Well you won’t end up with your car wrapped around a telephone pole like your friend, for one.”
The room goes dead quiet, and suddenly a lump forms in my throat.
Fuck. I just went over the line.
I quickly shake my head. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I wince as I step towards him. “I didn’t mean-“
“Nope, heard you loud and clear, sweetheart.” Holden’s eyes narrow. “So I’m a drunk.”
“I didn’t say that, I just said to slow-”
“Least I’m not lying to myself about being a little star fucker.”
I hold his eye for one solid beat before I whirl, slam open the back exit door, and stalk off to find a cab.
22
Holden
Well, that went well.
I kick open the minibar door back in my hotel suite, yanking a few nips of whiskey out and stomping onto my balcony.
I’m pissed that she brought up Brandon, and pissed that she ending things like that when it was clear we were both into it. Because little miss “oh we can’t do this” was very into doing “this” when my tongue was curled around her clit and my fingers knuckle-deep in her pussy.
Goddamnit, shoulda stayed in fucking Denver.
I should have stayed in the land of milk and honey - by which I mean pussy; no-strings, no drama, no hot-and-cold, freaking out about it “being wrong”, pussy.
I slam back one of the tiny hotel-room sized bottles of whiskey before I dump the other two into a glass, leaning against the railing and glowering out over this new city I’m going to call home.
Mostly, I’m just pissed for acting like an asshole. Bringing up Brandon was a bitch move, but cutting into her like that where I knew it’d sting was worse, and I know it.
I’m also furious that she’s still dancing through my damn head, like no girl ever has before. I’m pissed the fuck off that after she left the club, and after I dove back into the masses to be swarmed by fucking chicks all but begging to take care of the blue-balls London had left me with, I still left alone and without release. A whole gaggle of giggling, eager, and down for anything club chicks ready to let me do whatever I wanted to them, and I fucking leave like a totally pussy to come back to my hotel and drink alone.
I restrain myself from jerking off though this time.
I might be all tied up and tripping over this girl, but I’m not that much of a fucking pussy.
* * *
“You’re stalling.”
Randy’s wolfing down waffles over late breakfast the next morning as he glares at me. I’m wolfing down black coffee and goddamn aspirin to kill the hangover I poured out of the hotel mini-bar last night.
I wince as I frown.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I fucking mean.” He sighs and shakes his head as he dumps five whole sugars into his coffee before turning it off-white with cream.
“Jesus Christ, Randy. You know you can just quit instead of giving yourself a heart condition, right?”
Randy flips me off and I grin.
“Look, you wanted this move, right?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Hey, say the word and you’re back in Denver. But you’re the guy that needed the change.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumble into my coffee mug.
Randy shrugs, wiping syrup from his mouth.
“Look it’s a sweet deal, pal. And honestly, Denver isn’t going to give this much next season. That contract re-negotiation is real, by the way.”
I stare into my coffee.
“Look, Houston flew you down, they showed you the facilities; hell, they even got Archie’s hot little piece of a daughter to take your ass out on the town.”
He peers across the table at me.
“I’m presuming you’re not stupid enough to fuck around with that and kill this whole thing, right?”
I shrug. “Of course.”
I take a large gulp of scalding hot coffee.
“So,” Randy puts his fork down. “We signing or not?”
I should say no. I should head back to Denver before I get myself in trouble, big time. I do not need something like London Jacobs around me, like fucking kryptonite. I don’t need some chick clinging inside my head like no girl ever really has. It’s fucking with me, and it’s throwing me off.
Hell, it’s worth the pay dip to stay where I am back in Denver and leave it be. Because there’s nothing but trouble waiting for me here with a girl like that.
Nothing but bad news.
Nothing but sweet, sweet bad news and delicious trouble.
Fuck it.
I finally put my coffee cup down and groan as I lean back in the booth, shoving my fingers through my hair.
“Alright,” I sigh. “Let’s sign the fucking papers. I’m moving to Houston.”
23
London
“He’s signing?” I frown, staring out the windshield as I listen to my dad’s voice on the car speaker. “Seriously?”
After last night? After our little meltdown? After I let my hormones and my body get the best of me and I did what I said I’d never do again?
It was an asshole move, bringing up his friend like that, and I’ve been regretting it for the last twelve hours. Even if what happened in that coat closet shouldn’t have ever happened, it’s me I should be mad at for caving and giving in, not him for what I fully allowed to happen.
“Quite serious, honey.” Dad chuckles. “Got the call from his manager ten minutes ago.”
Shit.
I think part of me never thought he’d ever actually sign; that he was just here in town to fuck around and play games.
…Or just here for me.
I roll my eyes at myself.
It’s a stupid thought, but suddenly, I’m thinking very hard about what Holden Cade signing with the Bulls actually means in terms of what’s going on with us.
“Are you on your way in? He’s coming down right now, and I’d like it if you were here for the signing.”
I shake my head, focusing on the road as I pull off the freeway at the stadium exit.
“Yeah, I’ll actually be there in five.”
So, Holden’s going to be here.
In Houston.
Near me.
Around me.
For a while. Contractually.
I can feel the salacious shiver run down my spine as I end the call and swallow the lump that forms in my throat.
Wonderful. The cocky, arrogant man-whore who I need to have nothing to do with - the man I can’t seem to stay away from, and the man who does things to my body that I’ve never felt before - is going to be living in my city full time.
I do my best to ignore the traitorous throb of heat between my legs at the thought as I pull into the stadium complex. But it’s still there as I park in the garage, and it only grows hotter and harder to ignore as I make my way down the hall to the conference room to watch the man who’s somehow slipped his way under my skin and commanded my thoughts become my employee.
Fantastic.
* * *
“Where’s Holden?”
There are a number of people milling around the conference room, but the man of the hour seems to be missing from the equation.
Randy looks pale, his brow shiny with sweat as he furiously twirls a pen in his fingers.
“He’s here, he’s just taking a break; giving it one last thought.”
Oh give me a fucking break.
I glare at Randy.
“What other ‘last thoughts’ can he possibly have? He gets the move he wants, he gets to be part of a rebuilding team, and he gets a pay grade he’d never get in a million years with any other team, including his current one!”
Here I am worrying and fretting about what last night and our previous history means in terms of Holden joining the Bulls, and the drama-queen is off sulking somewhere.
Dad looks relatively calm, but there’s a twitch in his eye that I recognize as his �
�tell” for when he’s nervous as he moves across the room to me.
“London, would you mind going to find our boy and assuaging any last concerns of his?”
The heat from earlier comes flushing back through me.
“You’re good at this sort of thing, honey.” Dad says. “Just do what you can to work the kinks out with him, or we’re going to get spanked by the media for this.”
I die a little inside, cringing at Dad’s choice of words.
I nod quickly.
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”
I check the locker rooms first, then the gym, the steam rooms, and the physical therapy offices, before I head out to the field. It’s empty, and only half-lit with the overhead stadium lights. And I’m about to give up and head back sans-Holden when something catches my eye.
I look up and groan.
It’s him - sitting way up next to the box seats in the second tier stands.
I sigh as I traipse across the thirty-yard line.
“You’re late!” I yell through cupped hands.
“You’re late!” he yells back. “I’ve been here for twenty minutes!”
I roll my eyes.
“For the signing!”
“What?”
I growl and yell it louder this time.
“You’re late for the signing!”
“What?!”
As I get closer to the base of the stands he’s sitting in, I realize I can see he’s grinning at me; his feet kicked up on the seats in front of him and his hands behind his back.
Goddamnit, he’s infuriating.
I whip out my cell phone and call him instead.
“You’re late for the signing, diva.”
Holden chuckles. “You’re breaking up, sugar. Bad reception I think.”
“The reception is fine,” I hiss into the phone. “Get down here.”
“I- can’t- reception-”
Holden takes the phone away from his ear and makes a big exaggerated shrugging motion before bringing it back.
“If you make me walk all the way up there, so help me God…”
“London, I really can’t hear-”
The line goes dead.
Fucker.
I don’t walk all the way up there.
I stomp - grumbling and muttering under my breath with every damn stop.
Finally, I make it to the second level and glare at him as I move towards where he’s sprawled out in the seats next to the private boxes.
“What, are we having second thoughts?”
His brow cocks.
“I really like you with that flush on your face you know.”
I stop in front of him and give him a look.
“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s from walking up two hundred stairs.”
“Well, it looks really familiar.”
“Don’t,” I say thinly.
“Don’t what?”
I sigh. “Look you’re going to be signed today. You’re going to get all the media attention I know you’re craving, and a whole bunch of money for your troubles. And all you need to do is make up your damn mind about it.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I just need some persuading.”
I roll my eyes. “Please.”
“Begging now?”
“Get over yourself,” I shoot back. “And if you think the fact that you screwed me is going to be some sort of bargaining chip towards your contract-”
Holden stands abruptly from his seat, moving towards me and grinning down into my face.
“See, I was thinking the opposite, actually.”
“Excuse me?” I breathe icily.
“I was thinking signing was a bargaining chip to getting to fuck you again.”
Shit.
There’s something about just how over-the-top crude he and his words are that trigger something deep inside me - something that suddenly burns hot and fierce. I shiver as my heart pounds in my breast, my skin feeling electrified and my breath catching on my lips.
I swallow.
“Not going to happen.”
“You’re flushed again,” he murmurs.
“I told you, it’s the stairs.”
“I’m sure.”
He moves against me, his hand moving to my hip and resting there easily, like it belongs there.
Or maybe more like I belong in his hands.
I bite my lip as I drag my eyes up to his.
“What are you doing.”
“Checking your pulse,” he says with sly grin on his face. “I’m worried about you.”
I swallow quickly. “And is that where you check for a pulse?”
“Nope,” he shakes his head, his eyes burning right into mine and not even blinking once.
“I check here.”
His lips move to the hollow of my neck, and I groan as he trails his lips and tongue over the sensitive skin there. His hands move down to cup my ass, and my pulse skips a beat as he suddenly lifts me up into him. My legs clamp around his waist on instinct, my hands clutching at his shirt as he whirls us around and strides towards the box seats behind us.
I moan as my back comes up against the wall, feeling his body press against mine; his hands gripping my ass and his breath hot on my neck. My hands slide up to his thickly muscled shoulders, up the back of his neck and trailing my fingers through his hair.
His mouth leaves my neck, trailing up over my jaw and my cheek until he finds my lips. I moan as his tongue demands mine, his growls vibrating through me as he kisses me against the side of the box seats.
Fuck, what am I doing?
Holden slips a hand out from behind me and yanks on the locked door to the box seats, muttering under his breath. “I assume you’ve got keys,” he growls into my lips.
I murmur some sort of unintelligible response, still kissing him and clutching at his thick hair as I fumble for the keycard hanging around my neck.
We stumble inside as the door opens with a click, my legs still around his waist and a complete inability to pry my lips from his.
Finally, I gasp for air as I pull away, moaning as his lips and teeth find my neck again.
“We- they need you for- oh, shit.” I whimper. “They need you for the contract signing,” I manage to gasp out, feeling his cock throbbing between my legs inside his jeans.
“Guess we better be quick then,” he husks into my mouth.
He sets me on the floor and spins me around, pushing me up against the huge glass wall of the private box that looks out over the field.
“What are you- oh fuck-”
His lips are at my collarbone again as his hands slide down to my skirt and yank it up over my ass.
“All that talk you had about how you never wear dresses or skirts, huh?”
I moan as his fingers trail over my skin, hooking into the waist of my panties and pulling them down off my ass.
“I told you that you should feel lucky,” I murmur, biting my bottom lip between my teeth as I feel my panties drop down my legs.
“Believe me, sugar,” he growls into my ear, making me shiver. “I do.”
I cry out as I feel his fingers slip through the dewy wetness of my pussy, his thumb pushing deep inside as two of his fingers slide over my clit. His other hand goes to my hair, tangling it and pulling it hard enough to make my breath catch. I moan as his thumb start to pump in and out of my slick opening, his fingers working my clit.
“We- we can’t-”
His fingers roll over my clit, my brow crumbling and my mouth going slack as the pleasure rolls through me.
I want him.
I want him to tear my clothes off and fuck me right there against the glass overlooking the field. I want him to take me like he did that night back in Denver, and I want to feel that feeling I felt that night.
Except I can’t, and deep down, I know that. Deep down, I know going down this path again with him is a terrible idea, which is why I say what I say next, despite what my body is craving.
“We can’t d
o this,” I manage to choke out as his fingers drive me up the damn wall.
“Can’t do what,” he murmurs into my ear, making my body shudder as his fingers roll across my clit again.
“I- I can’t sleep with you again,” I say quickly, my eyes closed and my hands pawing at the glass. “Not when you’re going to be playing for the-” I cry out as his thumb pumps into me faster, curling against that spot just inside and making my legs want to give out completely.
“And where does making this sweet pussy come on my fingers land on the ‘sleep with me again’ scale?” he growls into my ear, still stroking that magic spot inside.
“I- it’s-” I whimper, my face pressing against the glass and my jaw going slack as he starts to fuck me slow and deep with those fingers. “I- I think it’s okay,” I whimper out, gasping as his fingers roll over my clit again and again.
Holden chuckles deeply in my ear, the masculine roughness of it tingling through my body.
“Just okay, hmm?” His other moves to the front of my blouse, slowly popping one button after another until it falls away from me. He moves his hand to my exposed bra, cupping my breasts and teasing over my nipples through the lace cup.
He’s driving me crazy and he damn well knows it. And I think we both know how absurd it is for me to draw this arbitrary line where “fingers are okay” but “sex isn’t”, like I’m a shy teenager all over again.
But silly self-imposed rules or not, he keeps on going, his fingers pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
His lips suck at the soft exposed skin of my neck as he pulls the cups down on my bra, releasing my soft breasts into his hand. His thumb pumps into my slippery folds again and again, his fingers rubbing circles over my clit as I start to lose myself.
“People could see us up here,” I manage to croak out as I claw at the glass in front of me.
I can feel Holden move his mouth to my ear, his breath teasing me and sending a shiver through my body.
“I guess you’d better come quickly then.”
I moan loudly as his fingers start to move faster and faster, rolling over my clit again and again as his thumb curls deep inside of me. His hand moves from my breasts back to my hair - tangling in it, pulling my head back and exposing my neck. His teeth find the tender skin there, biting and sucking and driving me right over the edge as I feel his fingers work their magic.
Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Page 14
