Love of the Game - The Complete Collection (Box Set)

by Shayne McClendon

  Diesel and Kenzie walked them out and assisted on loading up the group, giving proper kisses all around. Waving, they didn’t wait until the car was all the way down the drive before he lifted her and walked resolutely inside.

  He shut and locked the door, took the stairs two at a time to their bedroom, and set her on her feet beside the bed. He stripped his own clothes off fast and she waited, knowing he liked to undress her when he was in a certain frame of mind, like unwrapping a gift he’d waited for all year.

  Caresses over her shoulders and arms, up and over her breasts, always fuller when she was pregnant, down her sides, until he pulled her in for a kiss.

  The hem of her sundress was lifted inch by inch in his fists, tugged up her body and away from where it hugged under her breasts. A pretty white lace bra and panties underneath were outlined by his fingertips. Diesel lowered himself to his knees, kissing her rounded tummy and placing his ear against it as if to listen.

  He planted gentle kisses over her skin as he ran his palms over her legs and ass, looking up to smile at her. She put her hands on his face, traced her thumbs over his lips, and smoothed his shaggy black hair back from his forehead.

  Never taking his eyes from her face, he removed her bra and panties, stroked his knuckles over her mound, and watched the level of desire ratchet up.

  He carefully nudged her back to sit on the edge of the bed and followed her on his knees. Diesel pushed her to her back, lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, and placed his lips over her clit. She moaned as he sucked gently, his fingers petting her slow and easy.

  One huge hand stayed on her stomach, smoothing back and forth, as he licked and lapped at her. She was trembling when he slid one finger into her pussy, moving in and out lazily.

  Diesel was never in a hurry when he went down on her; he enjoyed playing with her as much as she enjoyed doing it to him. After David was born, he hadn’t been able to make love to her but he’d licked her like this every chance he got until she was cleared for ‘regular’ activity.

  She’d gotten equally good at sucking him. She knew every move that drove him so crazy he couldn’t last, or how to draw it out until he was begging her to let him come.

  Each knew when the other wanted to make love and when they wanted to fuck. Making love was usually when she was pregnant because he worried about hurting her.

  Fucking usually got her pregnant again…twelve-hour sex marathons until they were slipping and sliding over each other and dehydrated.

  Diesel knew every inch of her body, every scar, every freckle and worshipped her often. She knew every scar and ache of his athlete’s body and loved to rub heated oil into him, giving him deep tissue massages until he was limp and drowsy.

  Diesel curled his fingertips inside her and she arched hard, grinding herself on his mouth. He never slowed, continued lapping at her, moving his fingers inside her until she came again saying his name, her hands over his on her belly and in his hair.

  He kissed her several times then licked her essence off his fingers as he rose to lay by her side. “I missed you today.” Diesel kissed her, the flavor of her body on his lips. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  “I wasn’t sure at first…I had that little voice in the back of my head that still wondered why in the hell you’d choose me, of all people. Then when David was born, the first time I’d ever seen you cry, I knew for sure, with my whole being, how much you loved our children and me. You are such a good father and husband, Diesel.” She kissed him. “I need you…I want you so badly.”

  He rolled her away from him on her side then moved them up to the center of the bed, tucking her ass against his pelvis. Sliding her hair out from between them, his bicep under her head, he positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy and slid home, lifting her top leg over his.

  “There is nothing like making love to you, MacKenzie. Nothing in the world compares.”

  “Winning the Cup had to come close, Diesel, I’m pretty sure I came when you made that goal. Our entire family there in the box and I’m trying not to moan and touch myself.”

  He laughed. “Kenzie…I love you, woman. No one talks about hockey like you do.” His thumb flicked over her nipple and his strokes were steady and deep, touching her right where she needed it.

  “No, hockey is great…watching you play hockey makes me hot. Even when you retire someday, you have to promise to still play for fun, even if it’s just with the boys. The way you move on the ice is the same way you work me over in bed…confident, strong, graceful, and thorough.” He pumped twice more and felt her tightening around him. “Yes, Diesel, yes. Always so good.”

  “I feel the same way watching you do just about anything, Kenzie.” His body so warm behind her, his thrusts faster now. “Watching you cook is very sexual…you always taste things, making sure something is just right. The heat makes your hair stick to your temples, you smile constantly.”

  His hand moved to her stomach, she placed hers over his, their fingers twined. When the baby moved, they both went still. “Was that…?”

  She nodded and he felt when her tears hit his arm. He pulled her against him snugly, kept loving her while they felt their fifth baby move inside her.

  They came together and he whispered, “MacKenzie, I love you so much.”

  They stayed like that, talking and laughing, until they heard their family coming in downstairs. With one more deep kiss, Diesel said, “Until later, pretty girl.”

  Then he pulled out of her, sighs of regret easing from both of them. He carried her into the bathroom and they took a quick shower, threw clothes on, and headed downstairs to play with their kids.

  When they were all in the den, watching a Disney movie together, Diesel kept his hand on her stomach, waiting to feel the baby move again. The little bumps against his hand made him smile.

  “Kenzie, I think we have a figure skater in there…not a hockey player. This baby is much gentler; the boys kicked the hell out of you from day one.”

  Her entire face lit up. “If not, we may have to try one more time, Diesel.”

  He winked. “You know me…I’m happy to go for the goal, Kenzie.” They snickered together quietly and Dalton glanced back, rolling his eyes with an indulgent smile.

  Time to Make the Doughnuts

  Shayne McClendon

  Chapter One

  The smell was killing him. His mouth was watering, his stomach growling, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but getting a fucking doughnut.

  He’d gotten out of his Escalade in the parking garage of his building and the scent of heaven hit him right in the face. On a shredding diet for the past six weeks, he hadn’t had a carbohydrate other than brown rice pilaf.

  He loved carbs…loved them.

  He followed the smell in a daze to the alley entrance of the parking garage and saw the backs of the retail stores that leased the first floor of his building.

  The space was wide enough for deliveries and he walked until he found the door the smell was drifting from. A peek inside revealed no one around. He opened the tight screen door designed to let the heat out while keeping the bugs from getting in.

  Stepping inside, he peered around and still didn’t see anyone.

  He was literally aching for a doughnut at this point; his back teeth grinding together. Moving through the spotless kitchen, he looked through the small window in the door that led to the front.

  No one around…huge platter of doughnuts on the countertop.

  He pushed open the swinging door and had his hands over the pastry when he heard the unmistakable cocking of a gun behind him.

  “I was dying for a doughnut. I was going to leave money for it. You don’t open for…like, hours. I was overcome. I’m sorry.”

  He started to turn and a woman’s voice said behind him, “Please don’t move. Don’t make me shoot you over a fucking doughnut.”

  “Not moving. Swear to god, lady. Not moving an inch.”

  They sto
od in silence for ten seconds before he heard the sound of a siren. Oh, shit. The police came through the kitchen with weapons drawn.

  “Josie, please lower your weapon. Thank you. Sir, slowly turn around, hands on your head.”

  With a sigh, he placed his hands over his head and turned.

  “Oh, holy damn. Sal, you see who that is?”

  “Uh, that’s Max Grant…the Max Grant. Three time All American with Miami, number one draft pick, starting receiver his rookie year with the Lions, traded to the Steelers after two years, been chewing up the yards every year since we got him. Has two Super Bowl rings already. Still has a lot of good runnin’ and gunnin’ left in him.”

  “Grant, what the hell are you doing, man?” Both officers holstered their weapons and put their hands on their hips.

  “I’ve been shredding for camp. Haven’t had a damn pastry in forever. I don’t know what the hell came over me; I was going to leave money for it. I went crazy for a minute. I just had to have it.”

  Max looked at the woman who’d held him at gunpoint. “Ma’am, I’m really sorry. I didn’t think about scaring a woman alone. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  She was turned away, looking out the front windows, her arms crossed over her stomach. From the back, she looked good. Lean dancer’s body, blonde hair that looked like it may have a hint of pink in it tied up in pigtails.

  Really…just adorable.

  “It’s fine, please go, I have a lot of work left to do. Sal…Danny, you can see yourselves out. Please feel free to come for coffee when I open at seven. My treat for getting here so fast.”

  “Sure thing, Josie. You sounded frantic on the phone. You know we try to keep an eye on things for you. Um, Max, could we maybe get your autograph?” Max nodded and the officer picked up two of the napkins for Josie’s Java Joint. Max signed both of them with a flourish.

  The other officer looked at Max. “Dude, use your head from here on out. This woman’s been through enough without getting the life scared out of her.”

  He nodded as the officers left, chuckling to one another.

  To the woman’s back he said sincerely, “I do apologize, ma’am. My mama would lose it if she heard about this.”

  “No worries, Mr. Grant. Go out the way you came in please. I doubt we’ll see one another again and it is unlikely that your mother will ever know.” He turned to go and she added, “Mr. Grant…” He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Take a few donuts with you. For the gun. I apologize. Goodbye.”

  She didn’t look at him again and Max found that odd. Not to put too fine a point on it, but most women usually couldn’t wait to meet him.

  Instead of scaring her further, he took a few doughnuts, dropped a twenty on the counter, and left out the back.

  Chapter Two

  That had been way too close. Max could have been arrested; hell, the owner could have shot him. He owed her a real apology. He’d have to give it some thought.

  Heading back through the parking garage, he took the elevator to the penthouse apartment he’d been in for the last couple of years. Except for pictures of his mom and kid brother, the place was pretty barren. Some of his trophies were in the den, the rest were at his mom’s place in Pensacola.

  He dropped his keys on the foyer table and put the doughnuts on the bar counter. For a moment, he thought he would have to eat them right then because they looked and smelled so good.

  “What are you…four?”

  With a shake of his head, he headed into the bathroom, stripped, and looked over his body in the full wall mirror in the bathroom. It wasn’t vanity, it was checking out his livelihood. Six-five, shredded down to two hundred fifteen pounds; he was the lightest he’d been since high school.

  That was the point, to shave another couple of seconds off his best time. Come off the line quicker, jump a little higher, run a little faster.

  Max was in the best shape of his life…but he was still going to eat the doughnuts.

  He ran big hands through his sandy brown hair and checked his brown eyes for signs of exhaustion. At thirty-one, he’d been playing football for twenty years and made a living at it for the last ten. He didn’t gamble, drink, smoke, or do drugs of any kind. He didn’t get into fights…never had unless he was defending himself.

  There was that small weakness for the opposite sex, but they were so…accommodating.

  The woman who’d been waiting outside the locker room tonight was the definition of heat. Came on strong, invited him back to her place, and rocked his world. He could still smell her perfume on his skin. A little overpowering but she’d been fun.

  He’d invested in property and bought his mom a house. When this place was being built, he bought the best location at a steal. The policy from the day he’d been signed to a professional team had been to always pay cash for everything. He wasn’t going to be one of those celebrities who shilled gimmicks at fifty to supplement his income or worse…bankrupt.

  There was too much effort, too much pain, in every dollar he earned to piss it away.

  The trust fund he set up for his little brother had paid for his college in full, up front. Scott was five years younger and far more brilliant than Max would have thought possible.

  Max didn’t trust anyone with his money except his mom. Annabelle Grant could squeeze two quarters together and get a crisp dollar bill. She’d done it since their dad died right after Scott was born; hit and killed by a drunk driver on I-75 on his way to South Florida for business.

  His mom watched every dime he spent and put the majority of his money in IRA’s and long-term CD’s earning high interest rates so he’d have plenty when the day came that he couldn’t play ball anymore.

  Max showered and thought about the woman at the coffee shop with a grimace of disgust. He’d never done anything so stupid in his life. A woman alone before dawn. It was no wonder she’d been afraid.

  When he walked into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his lower body, the automatic coffee brewer had a fresh pot waiting for him. His housekeeper was a wonderful older woman his mother found for him when he moved into the condo. She wanted to be sure he didn’t live like a pig. Patricia set up his coffee every night like clockwork before she left so it was ready to drink at five each the morning.

  He poured himself a cup and sat at the bar, pulling the little pile of doughnuts in front of him. Biting into one, he tasted heaven. He wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t had sweets in a long time or what, but it was the best damn doughnut he’d ever tasted.

  There was a hint of something unusual in the batter. It wasn’t a plain glazed. It had personality. Maybe…cloves?

  Max ate all five and finished his cup of coffee before hitting the sack. He had to pick his mom and Scott up at the airport later, and he crashed within moments of his head hitting the pillow.

  At two o’clock, Patty knocked on his bedroom door. She didn’t wait for him to say ‘come in’ before she pushed it open and tsk-tsk’d at his naked ass twisted up in the sheets. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a prim bun.

  “Another late night and your family is coming today? Bad Max.” She always said it like he was a puppy who had an accident on the floor. “My boys are just as bad. You burn the candle at both ends and one day you run out of wax before wick, if you get my meaning.”

  She opened the blinds and he groaned at the bright light. “Time to get up, Max. You have to be at the airport in forty-five minutes.” She yanked the sheet from him and rat-tailed his bare thigh.

  Max yelped. “Patty, damn! You must have been one mean mama!”

  “Very mean, thank you for the compliment. My boys wanted to follow their father into the steel industry. I knew it wasn’t going to last. Told them to get proper educations. Now they support their father who hasn’t been able to find a steel job in three years…he focuses on his painting. As the only woman in a house with five big men, you have to be mean. Up now or I flick you again.”

  Patty had seen i
t all. Naked younger men didn’t faze her in the slightest. She treated her employer, the same age as her third son, like he was another of her children and didn’t put up with any of his shit. Annabelle adored her…so did Max.

  Grumbling good-naturedly, he huffed and puffed as he climbed from his bed. He gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek as he passed. She slapped his butt sharply and went to print out the flight information for his family. When he came out dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, she smiled.

  “There you go. All pretty for your mama. I can’t wait to see Scott, he's such a sweetheart. I’ll make you food for tonight. They’ll be tired from traveling. Tomorrow, you take them for dinner someplace nice…Italian, of course.”

  Patricia and her family were full-blooded Italian and proud of it.

  She handed him his wallet and car keys, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and hurried him out the door so she could finish any last minute details preparing for his mom and brother.

  Traffic was light and when he pulled into the arrivals lane, his mom and little brother were waving like crazy people. He jumped out and spun his mom in a big hug before grabbing his brother and crushing the life out of him.

  “You look bigger…did you get bigger?” he asked him.

  “Max, you always say that. I will never get bigger. I’m never going to grow past five-ten. Give it up. You look lean and mean, bro. Excited about the season?”

  They talked football while they loaded the suitcases in the back of the SUV. One of the airline employees approached him for an autograph. He was always happy to do give autographs and take photos. Fans were what increased his value as a player. Too many professional athletes had forgotten that over the years. He never would.

  Opening the front passenger door for his mom, she hopped her little frame up on the seat and smiled at him as she buckled up. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and her blue eyes twinkled. Scott slid in the seat behind her.