Penetrate: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Alpha Athletes)

by Violet Paige

  Her eyes lifted to mine in the mirror and she shook her head.

  “I don’t regret that.” It was garbled, but I made out enough of the words to put the sentence together.

  “Good.”

  My gut told me I was glad. I didn’t want her to take it back. I sure as hell didn’t want to, but I didn’t know what this new feeling was. She had knocked me to my knees when I wasn’t looking. I was in a place I didn’t know how to navigate.

  She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth. “But I don’t know what to do now.” Her hands flattened against my chest. “That’s what you saw. Complete and utter confusion.”

  This was the part where I usually walked out. I grabbed my keys and bolted for the door. But for some reason I didn’t budge.

  “See me tonight.” My voice was cool and certain.

  “What?” She looked more confused than ever. “You have a double header.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the matches right now. Tell me I can see you tonight.”

  I snaked an arm around her waist, pinning her to my chest. I could almost hear her heart beat.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  I gave her a quick spank on the ass and kissed her before I walked out. “See you on the beach, baby.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sierra

  I could do this. I could totally do this. I could walk into work and act as if I hadn’t been fucked in the most amazing way in my life. Fucked by a rival teammate who also happened to be an American, and coached by my brother’s best friend. I could totally do it.

  “Bella.” I flinched as soon as I heard Paulo’s voice behind me.

  I spun around almost whacking him with my equipment bag in the narrow corridor under the arena. There should be more lights under here.

  “You ok, bella?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah. Great. How are you? How is the calf this morning?” I knew I was chattering about as if I were afraid Paulo was going to read every detail about last night on my forehead.

  He never noticed anything. I was being ridiculous.

  “It needs your fingers.” He raised his eyebrows.

  I rolled my eyes. “All right. But it’s going to have to be quick. You have to get on the court.” He followed me to the bench on the sidelines of the beach.

  Today the sun was bright and hot. There wasn’t a trace of yesterday’s storm other than the soggy sand. Everyone rushed around to set up for the first match. They had to squeeze in all the matches that were canceled from yesterday in order to keep the tournament on schedule.

  I made Paulo sit so I could start his calf stretches.

  “Did you hydrate last night after dinner?” I asked.

  “Of course, bella.” He looked over toward the stands and waved at a group of girls who started taking pictures of him.

  I knew the volleyball players were as popular as the swimmers and soccer stars. They had their own set of groupies who followed them all over the city. Paulo and Sergio were basically rock stars in Italy.

  I pushed on his heel, forcing his calf to elongate. “Any better?” I asked.

  “I think so.” He wiggled his toes. “Grazie.”

  “No problem.” I stood from the sand when Pierce walked onto the court.

  My eyes couldn’t move. My body froze. I felt the same heat and the intensity in one stare that I had felt in his lips less than an hour ago. Holy hell, what was I going to do? I wanted to drop Paulo’s stupid bag and run to the American side. I wanted to throw my arms around him. I wanted to tell everyone here that last night I had become a new woman. I had become Pierce Miller’s one and only.

  And then the sinking pit of disgust hit me when his gaze warned me not to move. I couldn’t do any of those things. I couldn’t touch him. I couldn’t check his knee before he played. I couldn’t kiss him and feel that wicked tongue of his.

  And damn it. I couldn’t cheer for him.

  He pulled his sunglasses over his eyes and turned to Scott. I thought I spotted Reyna in the crowd in one of the lower rows, hovering on the US side. She was waving an American flag wildly.

  That’s where I wanted to be. After one night I was ready to change camps so eagerly. I was ready to abandon my team and six months of work.

  I had to get a grip.

  “Thought I’d come say hi.”

  I looked up. It was Eric.

  “Why?” I pretended to look over the gym availability schedule for the guys.

  “Sierra, I’m sorry about what happened with your interview. I thought we could put it behind us.” He chuckled.

  He had no idea what he was talking about. Because of him I had moved to another country, and now worked for a bunch of jesters. No one took me seriously on the Italian team, and I was homesick as hell.

  “Did my brother make you say that?”

  “No, but it’s going to be really awkward at Christmas dinner if you’re holding a grudge.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “I live in Italy now, Eric. I don’t know that I’ll make it home for the holidays. But go ahead, have a great time with my family.”

  I was sure my parents would help pay for my ticket home in December, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to feel guilty for not hiring me. We both knew I was an exceptionally better trainer than that Larry character. He could barely bend over. Eric had changed the course of my life and I still didn’t know why.

  “Sierra, I wish you would stop being so pissed,” he pleaded. “I-I did it for your own good.”

  I could see Sergio from the corner of my eye posing for pictures. He wasn’t even trying to warm up.

  “And how was that? You thought I needed an international experience? You thought it would be good for me to broaden my cultural education? What exactly was it that I did to make you turn me down for a job that we both know I was more than qualified for? I had to be your best applicant. I’m a hell of a lot better than that guy.” I pointed with rage to Larry who was rearranging sports drinks for the guys.

  Eric gritted his teeth. “It wasn’t you. It was Pierce Miller. I promised your brother I wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.”

  My throat clamped shut. My eyes started to water. My hands balled into clenched fists.

  “What?”

  “Trust me. I was looking out for your best interests. I’m sorry you got hurt, but I swear, Michael and I talked about it and Pierce’s a dick. We didn’t want you getting screwed over.”

  The referee blew the whistle.

  Eric backed up. “I’ve got to get in the stands. We can talk later.”

  I wanted to scream. “Yeah, we’ll talk.”

  I took my seat behind the Italian bench and waited for the set to start.

  I had words for Eric. I had words for my brother. And none of them were something a nice girl from Four Corners would say.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pierce

  The whistle blew, but I was watching Sierra and Eric on the sidelines. Her hands were on her hips and she was mad. I could tell by the way she stared at him that something wasn’t right. But I couldn’t run over and check.

  “You on?” Scott asked. He adjusted his wristband. I didn’t know why he always played with that damn thing. I think it was something Reyna gave him when they got married.

  “I’m good.” I felt loose. My body felt amazing. A night of fucking like we did will do that.

  My knee barely hurt. I wore the slip-on brace Larry gave me. It was the only contribution he had made to my care. The only reason I was able to play today was because of Sierra. She had taken better care of me than my trainer had attempted.

  “Eyes over here then,” Scott reminded me.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I watched Eric storm off from Sierra. Something was definitely wrong.

  But we had a set to win and another match later tonight. I tried to block out what I had seen with Sierra. I tried to ignore the feeling that she needed me.

  My feet sank into the sand. My fingers twitched,
waiting for the serve. I tried to focus. I swore I fucking zoned into Scott. But the serve soared toward me, I dove, and bumped it straight out of bounds.

  He came over to slap my back. “Next one,” he assured me. “You’ve got this.”

  “Sorry,” I said quietly. That shit never happened. Never.

  I dug into the sand again. Sergio grinned from the other side, daring me to beat him. Those guys were fun last night at dinner, but all of that ended the moment we stepped on the sand.

  He tossed the ball in the air as his hand came down, serving it across the net. This time I was ready. I bumped it toward Scott and he spiked it at Paulo. But Paulo hit it across. I soared up for the block and missed it.

  “Damn it.”

  “What is going on?” Scott whispered to me.

  I shook my head. If I didn’t get things on track quickly the Italians were going to rack up enough points to win the second set and that would send us into a third. I didn’t want that. I needed my energy for tonight’s match. I hated playing third sets. It seldom happened.

  Playing under the lights was different than under the sun. The sun had a way of draining the extra energy from all of us. There was a different vibe at night. I wanted that night game.

  After another miss Scott looked at the judge and called time out.

  I followed him to the bench. We only had a few minutes to take a few sips of our drinks and put our heads together before the whistle blew.

  “Three straight points,” Scott muttered. “You’ve never done that.”

  “I know. I’ll make it up.”

  Scott twisted the top of his water bottle. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I’ll reset. Promise.” I slapped him on the back. I didn’t want to let him down.

  We walked back to the court. Sergio and Paulo laughed at each other. I didn’t know how the Italians could always act as if they were batting the ball around. This was the fucking Olympics.

  They couldn’t tell but I stared them down through my sunglasses. There was no way they were getting four in a row.

  The ball came straight to me. Sergio thought I was the weak link on the team. He was fucking wrong. I reared up, slamming the ball into the ground. The crowd cheered and Scott slapped my hand.

  “There you go.”

  “Hell, yeah.” I grinned.

  It was my turn to serve. The line judge tossed the ball to me. Things had already turned around. I couldn’t look at the sideline. I knew it would distract me. I’d focus on Sierra. I’d wonder what Eric had said to her. I’d lose my focus.

  Instead I threw the ball in the air and served an ace between Sergio and Paulo’s feet.

  By the time the match was over I was exhausted. The Italians hadn’t gone down without a fight. They took us into a third set. There were a few points that I was worried we wouldn’t get, but Scott contested the calls and we got the points back.

  As we packed up to leave I looked over my shoulder at Sierra. She was treating Sergio’s elbow. He had banged it pretty hard into the ground going for the ball.

  We had exactly eight hours before we had to be back on the court for the next round. I wanted a hot shower and a nap. It wouldn’t hurt to ice my knee either.

  The Italians would go into the loser’s bracket. Sierra and I wouldn’t have to face each other again on the sand. But there was no doubt I’d show up at her door tonight.

  Reyna made her way down to the base of the seats. I watched Scott reach up to hug her.

  “You were awesome, babe.” She smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I looked away, but not quickly enough. I saw it. What they had. The connection between them. It was always there, but sometimes it felt like a reminder that I had chosen a different direction. Reyna ran her hands through Scott’s hair. He reached up for another kiss.

  And then I saw it. The flash. The film strip in my head of the future. The split second when I wondered if I could have that after all. Was I meant for that kind of life? Was I meant for that with someone like Sierra?

  I grabbed my bag and got the hell off Copacabana beach.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sierra

  I was mad and angry. I don’t know how I managed to make it through the entire match without kicking sand on Eric or screaming at him in the stands. Who in the hell did he think he was? My entire life had been determined by that decision. I left everything. My family. My friends. My country. And all because he and Michael thought they’d play big brother without telling me.

  When I made it back to my room I immediately pulled out my phone to video chat my meddling older brother.

  “Hey, how’s Rio?” he answered with a big goofy grin.

  “Do not ‘hey’ me,” I steamed. “You and Eric have basically ruined my life.”

  “What are you talking about?” He looked genuinely confused.

  “I know why I didn’t get the job for the US team. I saw Eric today.”

  He hung his head. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

  “That’s the answer? No apology? You and your best friend conspire to send me out of the country and that’s your response?” I felt a little as if we were five and he had just broken the heads off my Barbie dolls and I was threatening to tell Mom and Dad, but I didn’t care.

  “I didn’t know you would move to Italy.”

  “Well I did.”

  “Come on, Sierra. Nothing good would have happened if you stayed on the US team. That dick, Pierce Miller would have screwed you over. We both knew it.”

  “I was qualified. I had three years at the collegiate level. I trained with professionals. I had clients who were professional volleyball players. And you think I couldn’t handle one womanizer? Thanks. Thanks, a lot.”

  “Eric told me about him. When you wanted to apply we talked about it. We were both worried.”

  I groaned. This conversation wasn’t moving forward. My brother wasn’t saying anything I wanted to hear. “It wasn’t your decision to make. If Eric didn’t think I could handle the job, that’s one thing. But to not hire me because he was afraid someone wanted to get in my pants is something entirely different.”

  I blushed slightly. I could see it on the screen. Thinking about Pierce in my pants last night brought everything back.

  “We were looking out for you. That’s all.”

  “You were controlling my life. Making decisions that weren’t yours to make. Pushing me across the ocean. Away from everyone, Michael. Do you have any idea what you did?”

  The tears came rushing from my eyes before I knew it. Six months of pretending to fit in amongst the Italians. Of trying hard to be a part of a foreign place. Of being pushed around by Sergio and Paulo. Six months of missing my small hometown and my friends. Did they have any idea what they had done?

  “I didn’t mean for you to move to Italy.” His voice quietened. “I’m sorry, Sierra. Really. But I was planning on visiting. I thought it could be a really cool trip. If you’ll have me.”

  I wiped my eyes with a tissue. “I don’t know if I’m staying.”

  “What?”

  And that’s when I stopped thinking completely. The words were out. “Your plan totally backfired. Instead of keeping me away from Pierce, you drove me straight to him. I’m with him.” My eyes flared. “Yeah, I met him here in Rio and we’ve been together, Michael. In fact, he’s spending the night again tonight after his match.”

  I was out of breath I had spoken so fast. No brother wanted to hear the bomb I had just dropped. He cringed.

  “Holy shit, Sierra. I didn’t want to know that.”

  “I don’t care. Stop meddling. Tell Eric to back off.”

  “Ok. Ok. I hear you.”

  “Good.” I smiled. “Tell Mom and Dad I said hi.” I waved. I felt a sense of triumph. I had to hope Michael wouldn’t talk to Eric before I had a chance to tell Pierce what happened.

  I hung up and collapsed on my rumpled bed. It was in shambles. We had
completely wrecked it, but I snuggled into the pillow that smelled like Pierce and fell asleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pierce

  When I awoke from my nap, there were five missed calls from Eric on my phone. I checked the time. I wasn’t late for the next match. What in the hell was going on?

  I tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. Something was up.

  I grabbed my bag and headed to the arena.

  The stands were full. Matches had been played all day. I started my search for Eric in the locker rooms, but they were crowded with different countries. The tunnels underneath the fan seats were narrow and winding. I was about to give up when I saw the back of his visor with the Team USA logo on it.

  “Eric!” I shouted over the heads in front of me.

  He turned around. Even in the dark hallway I could tell he wasn’t happy.

  “You had to do it, didn’t you?” He poked a finger in my chest.

  “Do what?” I backed up, not because I was intimidated, but because there wasn’t much space and I wasn’t interested in plowing over a row of Rio dancers.

  “Her.” He glared. “I told you to stay away, but you did it anyway. You can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

  “This is about Sierra?”

  I didn’t know how he knew any of this shit. But I didn’t like what he implied.

  “It’s none of your damn business. You’re my coach, not my boss. And you sure as hell don’t tell me who I can fuck.”

  He ripped the visor from his head and threw it at me. “I said to leave her alone. I said she was off limits.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I put my hands up. Eric was ready to punch me. I could see the raging bull in his eyes. He was looking for blood.

  But I didn’t think it had anything to do with a brotherly instinct. No. He was a man protecting what he thought was his territory.