Hard Pass (Saints of Love Book 3)

by Elizabeth Perry

  “Sounds like a personal problem.” Her face breaks out into a smile, her laughter filling the line between us. “You should contact your doctor.”

  “And tell him what?” I shift the phone down to the tent in my pants. “That I have a raging hard on for a woman who I can’t convince to come and fix it? Yeah, I’m sure that would go over really well.”

  “Oh my God.” It’s not the type of oh my god that I was looking for. I expected to wow her with the massive erection hidden underneath my pants, but the way that she gasps causes me to shift the phone back to my face, so that I can study her. Concern for me is written clearly across her features. “What in the hell happened to you? Did you start a riot in a strip club or something?”

  “You’ve always got jokes, don’t you?” My lips flatten. “For the record, I haven’t set foot in a strip club since my eyes landed on you, Princess. I haven’t even looked at another woman with interest. You’ve taken over every available slot in my mind.” It may be my imagination, but her face softens slightly. “The bruises are from practice. There’s a new guy on the field who’s trying to make a point.”

  “And what’s his point? That he can mark up your entire body?”

  “Something like that.” I sigh. “The guy is a real dick, and he’s not going to stop until he takes my place.”

  As she nibbles on her lower lip, the overwhelming need to taste her takes over me. As I exhale, trying to get ahold of myself, her eyes darken.

  “Why are you making sex sounds?”

  “Sex sounds? Princess. You’re fucking killing me here. You know why. I have an erection the size of Cali, and it’s got your name all over it.”

  “Oh.” She adjusts herself in bed. As she does, the camera shifts, and I get a full upper body view. Her tank top is thin, her gorgeous tits barely contained under the fabric. My mouth waters as I catch sight of her nipples peeking out from underneath the pale pink silk.

  “You don’t have a bra on,” I groan, the ache in my dick now completely overwhelming me. “If you’re trying to kill me here, Gia, at least talk dirty to me first.”

  “I don’t do dirty talk, Wyatt. Best I can do is a quick flash.”

  “Whole body view, please.” I sit upright on the bed, now wound way too fucking tightly to sit down. As she comes into view, I set my phone on the nightstand and despite every fucking thing that I stand for, kneel next to it, taking my own dick in my own hand. I watch her every movement. She sets her phone down somewhere as well, and then stands at the side of her bed.

  It’s only then that I notice not only is she wearing a thin tank top with no bra, but she’s also in just tiny, lace panties that barely cover her plush ass. My mind flashes back to a few nights ago, when I had her backed up against the wall, stripping her clothes off of her piece by piece. I remember just how fucking soaked her panties were for me. How slick she felt underneath my fingers. How responsive she was to my touch.

  I’ve never had phone sex, but dammit all, it just might have to happen tonight. Otherwise, I’m going to explode.

  I watch as she dips her fingers underneath her tank top, and I brace myself for the sheer sexiness of the woman I’m about to see. My breathing is fast, labored even. There’s no way I’m regaining control of myself in this situation. I’m going to jerk off to the sight of Gia’s tits. There’s just no way around it.

  Her top drops to the floor, and her glorious tits take over the screen. Not a word is spoken from her mouth. Not that I’d be able to keep the conversation going, anyway. I’m gasping for air and jerking myself off on Facetime, for fucks sake. I don’t even have it in me to be embarrassed for my actions. I come so quickly, and so harshly that my entire body shakes. One arm braces on my bed and while the other stays wrapped around my dick, long after my release. Once my vision finally clears, I see Gia’s eyes back on the screen.

  “I dare say, hot shot.” Her voice is thick and laced with lust. “That was one of the hottest things that I’ve ever seen.”

  I released to the sight of her. I should feel better. I always feel better after blowing my load. But the only problem here, is that it wasn’t at Gia’s hands. It was at my own.

  It’s just not enough.

  “You’re fucking killing me, Princess,” I croak. “Just get your ass to Florida.”

  28

  Gia

  I told myself that I wasn’t going to do this.

  I promised myself that if I crossed the line with Wyatt, I’d keep myself in check.

  I tried to convince myself that the only reason I hopped on a flight this morning was because what happened on Facetime ignited a fire inside of me that I wasn’t prepared for.

  My words are falling on deaf ears, though. And while I told Serena that I was going to Florida for a booty call, my lies fall short with myself.

  The second that I heard his voice, an overwhelming ache for him took over me. When my eyes landed on his bruises, all that I wanted to do was lie next to him, pressing my lips to every mark on his skin and take the pain away. I’m trying to chalk up my rash decision to the loneliness that I feel when Delilah’s at her dad’s house, but eventually I’m going to have to admit the truth.

  I’m fucking falling for Wyatt.

  I have no idea how it even happened. It certainly wasn’t supposed to go down like this. I was supposed to bask in the power of having that man fall to his knees over me. He was supposed to be my steppingstone, my ticket to getting my groove back. That isn’t how this is working out at all.

  You see, that’s the problem with power. One minute you have it, and the next someone else is in control. The fact that I’m now standing in the football stadium in Orlando is telling of who is in control right now. It damn sure isn’t me.

  I try to convince myself that I still have time to turn around. He doesn’t know that I’m here. He has no idea that after I hung up with him last night, I tossed and turned all night long until the urge to see him overtook me, and I found myself booking the first flight out of Minneapolis.

  I’m not the only woman here, and I’m definitely not the only one here to see him. All around me, women are standing and watching, calling out to the men below us, some of them even proudly wearing Wyatt’s number flashed across their backs. I’m just another woman in the crowd.

  Jealousy courses through me, even though I have no right to be jealous of anything.

  I have absolutely nothing on these women, and as soon as Wyatt figures out the way that I’m feeling, I’ll be in the same boat as them. Vying for a chance with the man whose heart can never be won.

  Even still, I watch him. Anticipation builds inside of me with every moment that passes. I wait a solid fifteen minutes after the whistle blows, ending his practice, before I muster up the nerve to call him.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “Princess.” Just the sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine. “Am I imagining things? Or did you actually call me for once? To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Funny you should use the word pleasure.” I sigh into the phone. “That was the basis for this trip.”

  “Wait, what?” His entire tone changes. I can’t see him, but I can envision the way that his face looks right now. I’m sure his cocky smirk is filling up his entire face. “Don’t play with me, beautiful. Are you in Florida, or is this another one of your games?”

  “Not sure, hot shot. Guess you’ll have to jog on up to the press box on the fifty-yard line and find out for yourself.”

  Before I even have time to put my phone into my pocket, two strong arms wrap around me and spin me, and without any warning at all, his mouth presses hard against mine. It’s the middle of the afternoon. We’re far from alone up here, in fact, every person on this level has to walk by us to exit. I can hear the gasps of the spectators and can see the flashes of the cameras even with my eyes closed. None of it matters though, as his mouth claims mine. Nothing matters at all, in fact, except devouring every ounce of him.

  He’
s still slick with sweat, but I don’t care. I grab ahold of him and hold on for dear life, as my emotions swallow me whole.

  By the time that he pulls away from me, my lips are swollen and my heart racing. The throb between my legs is so intense, that if he pulled my pants down and fucked me right here, I wouldn’t even have it in me to stop him. Lucky for me, however, he has self-control. Not much, judging by the heat in his eyes, but enough to keep us both in check.

  “How did you get here?”

  “Hitchhiked.” I shrug, trying to make light of the subject. “You wouldn’t believe what a girl has to do to get a ride these days.”

  “I’ll fucking kill him.” Wyatt’s voice is menacing. “Stop fucking around with me, Gia. Did you drive or take a cab from the airport?” I flash him my keys, and his chin lifts.

  “Where are you parked?”

  I ramble off the parking garage number, and he nods once, before practically dragging me to the stairs. “Your car is closer, but I’m driving it. We’re running every fucking red light back to my condo. Shits about to go down, babe.”

  And down it went.

  Several hours later, the sun is beginning to set in the sky and I’m still lying in Wyatt’s arms, my eyes slowly opening after a short nap. We barely made it in the door before we tore each other’s clothes off, and everything that came next was nothing short of earth shattering. But now my body feels like his looks. Beaten and bruised, and highly in need of some rest.

  I trace my fingers lightly across the marks on his body. Some of them are light blue, others a fierce shade of purple. All of them look like they hurt.

  “These are so much worse in person.” I sigh, pulling my head back from his shoulder just enough to look up at his face. “Is it usually this bad?”

  “Is what this bad?’ He rolls onto his side so that we’re facing each other, pulling my body flush against his and wrapping a thick arm around me.

  “The bruises. Does your body usually look like this?”

  “Insanely hot and muscular?”

  I smack him lightly on the stomach, and he laughs.

  “The only thing that worries me about these bruises is that they’ll wreck my modeling career. If this keeps up, the next billboard you’ll see me on will be an advertisement for snowsuits.”

  “I’m serious, asshat.”

  Wyatt leans forward, his eyes locking with mine as he trails his nose down my skin.

  “So am I. Fuck the snowsuit, maybe it’ll be an ad for a minivan. I’ll wear a long-sleeved polo shirt and khakis, boat shoes and a golf hat. I’ll introduce the latest snazzy van to the rest of the family guys, who will run right out and buy one. Watch.”

  His response has my head jerking back, my eyes flying up to his.

  “That’s ridiculous. I can’t even imagine you in a minivan. You drive a Maserati for fuck’s sake.”

  “I can see it.” His smile is devious, his movements slow and seductive. In one quick movement, I find myself buried back underneath him, the tension in the room once again rising. “In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t keep my hands off of you. It’s safe to say, we’re going to need a minivan, Princess, because now that you’re mine, I’m going to start knocking you up. No way around it.”

  The room stills. In fact, his words are making it hard for me to breathe. I blink up at him, his eyes narrowing on mine. It’s as if he’s baiting me, trying to get me to disagree with him. For the first time in our history, I’m literally at a loss for words. Luckily, a knock on the front door causes both of our attention to shift.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, glancing over at the clock. “It’s Dec. I forgot we’re supposed to do dinner.”

  I wiggle out from underneath him, thankful for the distraction. Wyatt mutters for me not to move, but the second that he’s out of the room, I do anyway. I pull my clothes back on, and then head down the stairs, just in time to hear their exchange.

  “Nah, bro. I’m not going. Gia’s here.”

  “So, bring her.” His arms flap up from his side. “It’s important for you to be there, Wy. Now more than ever. Our team is struggling, and if this divide keeps up, it’s going to tear us apart.”

  Wyatt’s arms cross, and his stance widens.

  “The only thing tearing up apart is that little bitch that coach let back onto the field. I’m not supporting any of this team bonding bullshit. I’ll support the guys with contracts. No one else.”

  “Dude.” Declan shakes his head. “I want him gone as much as you do. But that’s not how we solve this. Everyone is feeling it. The rest of the guys look up to you. They’re watching how you handle it. It’s important that you show up.”

  Wyatt nods his head outside, and as the door closes behind them, I make my way down the stairs. I gulp down some water, and then look around the condo. It’s not huge, but it’s beautiful. The kitchen is state of the art, living room is light and lush, but the view just past the slider doors is breathtaking. The sand is just a few steps from the hot tub that sits on his small back porch, and just beyond that, the waves lap peacefully against the shore. The smell of salt and sun fills the air, and I inhale deeply, before moving outside and letting the sun beat down on me. Just a few moments later, Wyatt’s behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. Despite our earlier conversation, and the need to correct him on a few things, I find myself sinking back into his embrace.

  “What was that all about?” I ask, tilting my head back against him just enough to glance up at his face. “Declan seemed really convinced that you had somewhere else to be.”

  “I don’t.” He mutters, wrapping me tighter in his arms. “The only place I need to be is here with you.”

  I hate the way that my heart flutters in my chest. Hate how I want his words to be real. How I find myself falling into them every time he utters something along the lines of wanting to be with me.

  The minivan comment, the baby comment, the innuendos of forever circle all around me, threatening every single one of my defenses. I tell myself that this is it. This has to be the last time that I put myself in this position. No good will come from it.

  No matter how hard it may seem, I’m going to have to put some distance between us. I need to do it, before I get to the point where there is no turning back.

  “You should go, seriously.” I pull myself out of his embrace and muster up the best convincing smile that I can. “It sounds like your team needs you, and if you don’t show up it’s going to look bad.”

  “My team needs my coach to wise up and get rid of our dead weight. My team needs our owner to stop letting toxic pieces of shit back onto our turf. Giving someone a second chance is always a bad idea, Gia. Especially when you look at their track record and don’t see change.”

  Everything inside of me stops spinning. In fact, it all becomes crystal fucking clear. A bucket of cold water dumped over my head couldn’t have snapped me out of my trance any quicker.

  His words both shake me and straighten me at the same time. I needed to hear them, and even more, from his own mouth.

  As luck would have it, just a few moments later, Cole texts me, telling me that Delilah wants to come home. So, before any other words can be spoken, before any further mistakes made, I hop the first flight back home, telling myself repeatedly that I’m never going back to this place, and that no amount of great sex is worth getting my heart broken.

  Wyatt can proclaim wanting a future with me. He can make jokes about getting me pregnant and driving a minivan, but history in this case says something else completely.

  Giving someone a second chance is always a bad idea. Especially when you look at their track record, and you don’t see any change.

  29

  Wyatt

  Begrudgingly, I’m sitting at the restaurant downtown and pushing my fork around my plate. I don’t want to be here, in fact, it’s the last place that I want to be right now. Truth be told I wanted to force myself onto the flight back to Minneapolis with Gia. If I could have, I would have. I
t’s just that fucking simple.

  Part of it is because I want to be close to her. The larger part though, is that I need more one on one time with her to figure out exactly where she stands. Her expressions and her emotions change so fast that I can’t even keep up. One minute, she seems like she’s feeling the same way about me that I am about her. The next, she flips the switch and just turns cold. I can’t figure it out. No matter how much I dwell on it, that woman still remains a mystery.

  “Did you check social media today, Wy?” Jude nudges me in my side, his voice low as coach continues on with his bullshit positivity speech.

  “Nah.” I haven’t been on there in weeks. Social media is the black hole of bullshit. All it is, is a bunch of people voicing their opinions on things that they really don’t know anything about. I hop on there from time to time, but it’s always short lived. Usually after a few scrolls, I remember why I avoid it in the first place, until weeks later when I try it again and the cycle repeats.

  Of course, I have a social media presence, but I pay someone to keep it up for me. Pictures are posted and my stuff trends for a while, but that’s about the extent of it.

  “I figured. FYI, you and Gia are hot right now.”

  I don’t have the apps on my phone, so I grab Jude’s and begin scrolling through. Pictures of us kissing at the stadium today have gone viral. I screenshot every one of them and send them to myself.

  “The comments are priceless.” Jude’s eyebrows raise as I slide the phone back. “Don’t you want to read them? Gia just became the most envied woman on the planet. That should make you feel good, bro.”

  “Did Gia comment?” When he shakes his head, I give a single shake of mine.