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Girls' Night Out (Bad Boys)

Page 17

by Susan Arden


  “Please,” she whispered, flexing her hips even higher.

  “Like that?” he asked, sliding his finger over her.

  “God, yes. Brett, I’m almost there.” Her sheen slick skin glowed, beckoning him to run his hands over body. He bowed over her, capturing her tits in his hands, and he bit down on the seductive place where her lovely neck had mesmerized him. He sucked and bit her sweet tasting skin, marking her as she’d asked.

  “I’m about to shatter,” she rasped, pushing back against him.

  Me too, he thought as his balls hiked up, the pressure building into an out of control vortex about to hurl him over the edge. He gripped her by the shoulders, and pumped his hips, joining their bodies in a slamming thrust. Cory arched upward, riding his cock as he buried himself root deep into her. She cried out his name, her body convulsing and her pussy clenched around him.

  Fuck. He couldn’t hold back. “Sugar, come all over me. That’s it. Give it to me. Only me.”

  “Now, Brett. I need you right this second.”

  He didn’t stop moving. The sound of his balls slapping her ass grew louder until it felt as though a time bomb had gone off inside his head, driving electrical pleasure throughout his body. His release burst out of his cock, filling the condom. He leaned over Cory, moving her legs and coming down on his side while still embedded inside her. They stayed wrapped together, gasping and their heartbeats clattered. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair and body, closing his eyes. What he’d give to wake up to her in his bed the next morning.

  ~~~

  Brett had taken Cory back to her hotel and was set to pick her up soon. After catching a couple of hours of sleep, he showered and downed a cup of scalding coffee. She’d get the full package introduction into the other side of his life today. Originally, he’d thought no hidden games when he’d decided to open the door to his past and his whole world. He’d let her into his life and if she stayed, then there’d be no mysteries.

  Unlike his engagement, where he’d promised to marry a woman who didn’t know much about his past, what his days were like, and what he saw as his future. Danielle had met his mother, and that had gone over well enough—or so he’d thought at the time. In retrospect, he realized the polite chitchat between his mom and his ex-fiancée had lacked the chaos, warmth, and worry that went through Cory’s family. Hard to compare the interactions between his ex-fiancée and his mom with that of a large, bustling family, but he now understood, at the foundation level, it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t looking to repeat the family furnace that made up Cory’s life, but he had his eyes wide open. He knew it was reasonable to expect the woman in his life to be genuinely concerned and connected to him, and that meant to his mom, too.

  “Good morning, Brett.” The greeting rang out inside the lobby. He turned to see a group of women coming toward him. He recognized Lauren from the group and waved, glancing around the lobby to see if Cory was somewhere near.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” he responded.

  “She’s still upstairs.” One of the other women laughed.

  “Well, I’d better get up there. Don’t want to be late.”

  “You’ve got time. It’s not nine yet.” Lauren said, her face serious. “Heard you were taking Cory around town.”

  “Yep. You all checking out?” he asked.

  “And going back home. Feels like we’ve been here a while.”

  He held out his hand. “It was good meeting you all.”

  The women surrounded him and Lauren pushed aside his hand. “That’s not how we say goodbye.” They all burst forward, pushing him backward with their enthusiasm. High pitched squeals, thumps to his back, and more than a few words of encouragement and good lucks were shared.

  “Thanks, ladies,” he said, his head still swimming in the profusion of color and perfume.

  “Don’t be a stranger. We’re not that far away from Dallas,” Lauren winked. “Cory’s a hard nut, but worth the effort.”

  He grinned. “Hopefully, I’ll check out Annona sooner than later.” He didn’t mention he’d be there come tonight. Crossing the lobby, he almost stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Well, look at what the cat’s dragged in.” The syrupy voice of Cory’s cousin sent a jerk of irritation up his spine. Ashley walked directly in front of him, cellphone in hand. She acted as though she’d been awarded the key to the city.

  “Hello.” Guardedly, he kept his distance. He didn’t intend to trade anything more than this casual greeting. He made as if to walk past her, and shit if she didn’t reach out and curl her fingers around his arm, constricting like a viper.

  “You got room for one more on your dance card?” she asked.

  “Excuse me?” For a second he thought she meant coming with Cory and him today.

  “I know the type of woman who can take care of your needs. My cousin isn’t the one. Here. Take my card. Call me. I can come up anytime and we can party. Ask Mike how far I’m willing to go, and with a player like you, I bet you can keep up.”

  He looked down at the card she’d stuck in his hand, then up again at her. “No thanks. My dance card is full. One partner. You understand.”

  His chest tightened by disgust. He wanted to tell her off and read her the riot act. But nothing good would come of that except retribution to Cory. He wouldn’t allow that to happen on account of him losing control. He might not have a big family, but he knew enough about burned bridges.

  “Keep it. People change their minds. I know I have where you’re concerned. Who would have thought the NFL’s infamous Brett Gold was into a small-town girl like Cory? I get it. You’re cleaning up your profile. Genius.”

  He fought the temptation to tell this woman exactly what he thought of her ability to twist the truth. For a second he clenched his jaw in anger, pinching the card between his fingers.

  “Not even close.” His voice came out blistering cold when he spoke. “Look, I’ve got a date with the woman I intend on keeping. And I’m not going to change my mind.” He held out the card for her to take.

  She laughed and turned away. “Cowboy, you’ll be calling. On that, I promise.”

  He walked away and flung the card into a waste can next to the elevator. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the doors to open, then reminded himself that big families had all sorts. Obviously, that cousin of Cory’s pathetically jealous.

  “Christ almighty,” he muttered to himself, moving to step through the opening elevator doors, when he realized Cory’s parents were walking out.

  He stopped short to avoid colliding with the couple. That would be great—clipping them on his way to her.

  “Whoa,” Mr. McLemore called out. “On your way to a fire?” He chuckled, walking next to a luggage cart piled high with all sorts of baggage. He handed the bellhop a slip of paper.

  “I’ll have your car brought around, sir.” The young man wheeled the cart down the corridor into the lobby.

  “Good morning, Brett. How was your night?” Mrs. McLemore asked, looking up into his face.

  “Excellent,” he mumbled, fighting to suppress a heat wave climbing up his neck with the memory of Cory in his bed. Shifting gears, he focused on something different. “Are you both heading out?”

  “Yes. We’re going to the hospital and then we’ll be on the road,” Mrs. McLemore answered.

  “You coming up tonight?” Mr. McLemore asked.

  Brett felt his eyes widen, then thought, of course they’d know that—Cory had to fill them in on why she wasn’t returning to Annona with them. He wrapped his hand around the back of his neck.

  “We’ll be there about ten.” Was that too late on a Sunday? Wait. Cory wasn’t a child and he needed to calm down. He wasn’t intending to ravish her all day in his bed for Pete’s sake. Nothing to feel guilty about as he faced her parents. “I’m taking her to meet my mother.”

  “So soon,” Mrs. McLemore said, and then looked up at her husband. “You’re not plann
ing anything rash. Are you?”

  “Afterwards, I’ve a public service commitment, and another stop to visit some friends. Later a team dinner. Pretty standard for a Sunday.”

  “I think what my wife means is you’re not planning on bringing our daughter home…a married woman.”

  Brett stared at them and had no idea how to respond. If he could he just might, but so far—in the last six hours, anyway—no concrete plan had materialized. “Not this weekend,” he said lightly, then quickly added when they both gaped at him, “I’d ask your permission before I did anything of that magnitude.”

  They both laughed nervously. “We really didn’t think so. Just checking,” Mr. McLemore said.

  “Have a safe drive.” He pressing the elevator button.

  “Are you staying the night in Annona?” Mrs. McLemore asked.

  “I thought I’d just turn around and return.”

  She frowned. “Nonsense. You can stay with us. Then get an early start tomorrow. The ranch comes alive well before dawn.”

  “Thank you. I’ll think about it.” The elevator doors opened.

  “No sense battling the weather. You’re staying with us, Brett,” Mrs. McLemore reached out and shook his arm. “Promise me.”

  “All right,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll see you later,” they said in unison before walking out into the lobby.

  Stepping into the elevator, he glanced down at his watch. The jaunt through the lobby had taken fifteen minutes and had been more intense than a postgame press conference. He had one minute to get to Cory’s room before he was officially late. He watched the numbers light up on the elevator panel and exited on the sixth floor, glancing at the sign with arrows pointing right and left for the rooms. He stopped trying to figure out which direction and then took off in a sprint until he found her room. Leaning against the doorframe, he knocked, and held on to the wall, counting the beats of his heart.

  The door opened and he almost tumbled inside. “You can’t imagine the pandemonium going on this morning on account of you,” Stephen mocked, opening the door wider. “You’d better get inside before my sister decides to change again, making that the tenth time.

  “Stephen, I swear, you better get hold of yourself,” Gillian said, coming up behind her fiancé. “Hey, Brett. Don’t listen to him.”

  “Man, I’m not lying. And anyway, it’s a good thing.”

  “I shouldn’t ask.” Gillian arched a brow. “But why?”

  Stephen shrugged. “That will probably be the first and only time those clothes ever get worn before my sister gives them away.”

  Brett followed them through the short entry and into the room. He didn’t have words to describe how beautiful Cory looked in a jean skirt, boots, and tight sweater. She wore leggings that might have covered her skin, but in his mind, accentuated her long legs as she walked over to him.

  “Stephen McLemore, that’s rich coming from the man who had me ordering him new clothes and household goods for…just when was that? Oh yeah, when you started dating Gillian.” Cory laughed and reached for Brett.

  He pulled her against him, kissing her cheek, and inhaling her fragrance already branded in his awareness. His whole body tightened with her tucked up snug as a bug under his arm.

  Her brother slipped on a leather jacket. “I’ve no problem with wanting to look good. I’m arguing for moderation. And I think we all can agree, I proved that point.”

  “Really. The man who drove from Annona to come and check up on his fiancée on the night of her bachelorette party is lecturing me on moderation. We’ll see, Stephen.” Cory smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “He talks big.”

  “I watch over what’s mine and she knows it. Loves it. Later,” Stephen said, wrapping his arm around Gillian. “We’ll catch you two tonight.”

  “Be careful on the road,” Gillian said. “Hugs.”

  “Give me a second,” Cory moaned. She went to them for a quick group hug.

  “Take it easy,” Stephen held out his hand to Brett.

  “You too,” Brett returned.

  Walking by, Gillian patted his shoulder and Cory stepped over to the mirror to pick up a wool cap. The door closed and she gazed at him from the mirror as she pulled the cap down on her head. “Has it started to snow yet?”

  “A little. Not much. The road will be clear most of the way,” he said. He’d checked directions and the weather, and there was only one storm coming through. A call for patchy freezing rain, not much else.

  She turned to him. “I hope I look alright to meet your mother. My brother was right. I changed clothes like a maniac.”

  “Cory, you’re beautiful. And she’ll like you. I mean it.”

  She grimaced. “I want her to do more than like me.”

  “My mom and I are close.” He let go a serrated breath. “But not like your family. She’s concerned about me. It feels more intense. Like a laser. Your family surrounds a person, enfolds, and it’s a cloud of concern. I think both are good, considering who we are and what we need.”

  He didn’t know if he should bring up what he’d gone through with his learning disability. Because of the press and papers, he’d addressed the issue in media conferences arranged by the team and his agent, and he actively spoke about the need for educational reform and resources, taking up the cause with the advocacy group he sponsored, but it wasn’t something he could just start talking about if no one asked.

  She glanced down, picking at her sweater. “My family is way over the top.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I like being in their midst. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in a family like yours, but it feels real good being around them. That’s what I was trying to say.”

  “Thank you. I bet I’ll feel the same about your mom.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Cory wasn’t prepared for the self-assured and lovely woman who sat up in bed, smartly dressed in an emerald green robe and matching hair band. Alberta Gold was poised and today she didn’t require oxygen, which Cory quickly realized was a concern in around-the-clock nursing facilities. She and Brett waited until the nurse finished with her assessment and Cory squeezed his hand.

  The nurse smiled. “Ninety percent oxygen. You’re doing so well today.”

  “Spunky as ever.” Brett unleashed a huge grin. He was the spitting image of his mother. Same high cheekbones, wide charming smile, and deep green eyes that flashed in amusement.

  “Brett, I’m so happy to see you.” His mother held open her arms.

  He walked forward to kiss his mother’s cheek and hugged her. “Looks like you’re doing great today.”

  “Wouldn’t miss this day,” his mom responded, smiling graciously over to Cory.

  “Mom, I want you meet Cory McLemore,” he said, while pressing his fingertips to the small of Cory’s back. “Cory, my mother, Alberta Gold.”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gold,” Cory shook his mom’s hand.

  “Cory, how nice to meet you,” she said, smiling at her while patting her son’s arm. “Let me get a look at you both. I want a picture. Estella, are you about?”

  The sound of shuffling feet came from the kitchen. A woman wearing a Devils’ jersey appeared, carrying a tray set with a steaming teapot and mugs. “I’m coming. What are you up to now?”

  “Don’t you start,” Mrs. Gold cocked her head. “Estella, can you take a picture of the kids, please? I can’t figure out how that camera phone works.”

  Estella set the tray down on the table placed between two chairs off to the side of the bed. “Come sit down. Brett, how’s it going?”

  “Good. Getting ready for the next game. Estella, I’ve brought someone special. Cory, this is Estella. ”

  “Happy to know you,” she said, shaking Cory’s hand with a firm grip. Estella winked at her. “He’s as much a handful as his mom. But sweeter.”

  Mrs. Gold waved her hand. “
Cory, you watch yourself in the vicinity Estella. She is known to have a warrant on her head for bending the truth into a pretzel.”

  “Pshh!” Estella rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You sure ate up those yards on Thanksgiving. We were hooting and hollering. Weren’t we, Goldie?”

  “We had our jerseys on. Stop hogging the conversation and show me how to take a photograph.” The two women cracked smiles from ear to ear. Cory got that their ribbing was good natured and easily smiled back at them.

  Estella lifted a pair of glasses she wore on a chain around her neck, reaching for the iPhone Mrs. Gold held out. “I just got your mom up and running on the other cellphone and you had to go and change it. Next time, let me know in advance so I can prepare. There. Just hit the circle at the bottom of the screen.”

  “Okay. Let me try.” Mrs. Gold held up the camera, her brows drawn together as she moved the camera out in front of her body. Her arms shook, but Estella reached out to help her steady her grip.

  “Say cheese,” Mrs. Gold said. Brett pulled her close as they faced toward the camera.

  “Oh, that’s a nice one. You did it,” Estella murmured. “Take another so you remember how.”

  “I wish I had more strength in my arms,” Mrs. Gold responded, and then pushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “One more.”

  “You’re doing fine. Look, you remembered how to bring up the program. That’s a step in the right direction. Took me days,” Estella said.

  Cory’s smile broadened as she stood there with Brett’s arm around her. She thought of her mother and Miss Louisa. Even with all the mishaps that had transpired, her mother and Miss Louisa weathered the trip with chipper attitudes, minus the one short period when she’d been missing. Close just like these ladies, who seemed to have been together long enough to know when to joke, when to push, and when to be a cheerleader. Estella took several photographs of them standing close to Brett’s mom, and Cory took a couple with the three of them.

 

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