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#Player Page 6

by Cambria Hebert


  She laughed. A real laugh that chased away some of the shadows in her eyes and made her shoulders shake. Then she winced and held a hand up to her face. “Don’t make me laugh.” She smiled. “It hurts.”

  I pulled her hand away from her battered cheek and leaned forward to press a feather-light kiss to the area.

  She sighed.

  I wrapped my free arm around her waist and lifted her across my lap, turning her so she could rest the unbruised side of her face against my chest and cuddle against me but still leave my arm without any contact.

  Before she settled against me fully, she piled a large pillow on top of her stretched-out legs so I could rest my arm on top.

  One of her hands climbed up to the side of neck, where she splayed her fingers out beneath my jaw. Her fingers flirted with the stubble sprouting out of my chin, and I groaned under the soft caress.

  I couldn’t help but notice the way the shirt she was wearing rode up on her thighs, exposing most of her creamy bare legs.

  “This feels good,” she murmured.

  I tugged the shirt a little higher so her inner thigh was fully on display. She chuckled deep in her throat as her fingers found their way into the hair at the base of my neck.

  The tension in the room dialed back up and crackled through the air. A rush of need so strong washed through my body, and my hand spasmed against her hip.

  She glanced up at me, and I tumbled completely.

  I lunged forward, capturing her lips with mine and reveling in the moist fullness. It was already like she was primed and ready. I sucked the supple flesh into my mouth, and her head fell back, giving me total access.

  I worked her mouth over like I was applying for the last job on Earth. I licked and sucked and teased until her hand fisted in my shirt and she trembled in my lap, rotating her hips in search for more.

  Rimmel tore her mouth from mine with a gasp and then dove into the side of my neck with skill of her own. As she did, her hand went to the center of my body and brushed across my bulging cock.

  A shudder went through me, and I moaned.

  “Bed,” I demanded, more harsh than I intended.

  Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glassy when she climbed off my lap and went ahead of me into the bedroom.

  Once there, she tugged off the shirt and stood before me in nothing but her panties and boots.

  For once, I didn’t see the marks covering her skin; I didn’t pay attention to the other man’s handprint on my baby’s arm.

  I didn’t see her outer beauty in that moment at all.

  All I could see was everything she was on the inside radiating out and filling up every inch of my chest.

  “I love you so fucking much.”

  “I love you so fucking much.”

  I growled and stalked toward her. “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  “Say the word fuck again.”

  She smiled like the cat who ate the canary. “I love you so fucking much,” she purred.

  I said that word a lot, but it never sounded better than when it rolled off her innocent little tongue.

  I yanked my T-shirt over my head to toss it aside, but it was still caught around my arm with the sling. Frustrated and impatient, I would have ripped it off my body, but Rimmel made a sound in the back of her throat and came forward.

  Her gentle hands slid it off my broken arm without so much as a whisper of pain. When the shirt was gone, she took the loose straps at the top of the brace and wrapped them around my newly bare chest. Once they were fixed around me, my arm was anchored more solidly to my side.

  I started to protest, angry at the limited movement it would afford, but her hand moved to the waistband of my sweats, and all thought fell away.

  The pants slid down my body, and so did she. She kneeled before me and gently cupped my balls. Her fingers lightly played with the underside, and my eyes slid closed. As she gently massaged my sack, her other hand grabbed hold of the raging hard-on that proudly jutted from my body.

  She held it out away from my stomach and slid her hot little mouth all the way down to the base. How the hell she managed to deep-throat all my inches I didn’t know. And thinking about it right then was out of the question.

  I jerked in her mouth, already feeling the urge to spill my seed.

  I pulled out, one long, slow stroke, and her lips clung to the silky skin the entire way.

  “Bed,” I commanded, my voice barely audible.

  But when we both got there, a little of her passion dimmed and her eyes slid to my arm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “The only way I’m gonna hurt is if you don’t let me bury myself inside you.”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip.

  I lay on my back and crooked my finger at her. “You can do all the moving tonight.”

  She climbed up my body and straddled my waist. Her entire body was on display, and the heavy rings around her waist broke into my lust.

  “Are you hurting, baby? Is this too much for you?”

  Her response was to sink down on my cock in one fluid motion.

  Words became impossible.

  My eyes rolled back in my head as she moved and rocked. Rimmel kept her pace slow and deliberate. This wasn’t like the times we went at each other with everything we had. Instead, she kept the movement to a minimum, bearing her hips down against mine and rocking her entire core against me.

  The inside of her body was tight and hot. Her core was slick with desire, and the way she panted above me pulled me over the edge.

  Just as I was about to pump myself inside her, I grabbed her hip and rocked upward, spearing her as deep as I’d ever gone.

  Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out. She rocked in small little movements as her thighs trembled around me.

  White exploded behind my eyes, and I saw nothing.

  I heard nothing.

  But I felt it all.

  Once her body milked every last drop I had to give, she slipped off me and tucked herself between my side and arm.

  “Maybe I kind of do like your muscles,” she whispered.

  I laughed.

  She yawned.

  We hadn’t even bothered to pull the covers down on the bed. “Let me get you a blanket,” I whispered.

  “No.”

  “No?” I was surprised. Rimmel always wanted a blanket. She hated to be cold.

  “You’ll keep me warm.”

  I smiled up at the ceiling. “Always.”

  Everything around us might have been uncertain, but that was one promise I could make without a single doubt.

  Chapter Nine

  Rimmel

  Sleep was elusive.

  After I drifted off in Romeo’s arms, I managed to get a few hours of peaceful, dream-free slumber before waking up to a restless mind.

  It didn’t help that sunlight was peeking through the edges of the blinds in the bedroom and I had to pee. Romeo was still sleeping, his face soft and relaxed, and the last thing I wanted to do was wake him by lying beside him and worrying.

  Slowly, carefully, I peeled myself away from his side and slipped beneath his arm. I stood at the edge of the bed, watching him for long moments, and I couldn’t stop the feeling of gratitude that consumed me. It was a welcomed feeling.

  Even after everything that happened, I still felt lucky.

  I gathered up a couple ultra-soft throws and tucked them over him as he slept and then gently propped his arm up on a large pillow and placed a fresh cold pack on top. He barely stirred through it all.

  As I pulled on his shirt, a pair of loose pajama pants, and my slippers, I prayed his arm would heal quickly and the NFL wouldn’t drop him.

  I didn’t want to run the risk of waking him by making cider or coffee in the kitchen, so I fed Murphy a couple treats, refilled his food and water, and changed the litter box. Once that was done, I washed my hands and face and replaced the bandage around my wrist with a fresh one.

  My bo
dy hurt today. I was stiff, and my eye area was still swollen. The bruising didn’t look any better, and the rope burns on my torso still stung.

  In the kitchen, I gulped down a couple pain relievers and wandered over to the window to look outside. It was snowing. Big, fat white flakes drifted from the overcast sky and danced across the yard outside before settling completely in their mission to cover the grass.

  The pool cover was completely white already, and I could almost pretend there was no pool there at all. It was already noon, but based on the time we went to bed, I should still be sleeping.

  But I couldn’t stop thinking about my father.

  And my mother.

  And everything Valerie said.

  Actually, she hadn’t said much at all. Still, the accusation carried the weight of a thousand words. I thought she was warming up to me. I foolishly thought she was beginning to like me. And I was beginning to like her.

  Had I read everything wrong? Had her offering to help me set up a fundraiser for the shelter been something to make everyone think she was learning to accept me as part of Romeo’s life?

  Or maybe it had been an excuse to keep an eye on me while she waited for that skeezy private investigator she hired to dig up dirt on me and my family.

  When she couldn’t find any, she made it up.

  It was the worst lie someone could ever concoct.

  My father was a good and decent man. He would never kill my mother. He loved her, just as he loved me.

  I rushed into the living room and picked up Romeo’s cell off the coffee table. I dialed my father’s number without even looking at the screen. I knew it by heart.

  The phone rang and rang, then eventually went to voicemail. Disappointment sank inside me like a stone in the middle of a pond. He was probably at work. It was the middle of the day. Maybe he was on a jobsite and left his cell in the car.

  I left him a brief message, telling him I’d lost my phone, but I’d call as soon as I got another.

  I carried Romeo’s cell in the bedroom and plugged it into the charger beside the bed. He was still sleeping, looking as comfortable as ever.

  I felt a pang of guilt as I watched him. He was caught in the middle of his mother and me. I meant it when I told Valerie I could never take her place in his life. I wouldn’t even try. I thought I’d gotten through to her that day.

  But I hadn’t.

  She kept poking around in my life with some stranger I didn’t even know.

  It made me feel dirty.

  And angry all over again.

  Maybe there was also a part of me that was curious.

  Curious to know what exactly she thought she knew. I couldn’t imagine her throwing around some insane accusation the way she had if she didn’t actually believe it.

  I wandered back to the window and gazed across the yard to the main house.

  There was only one way to find out.

  At the door, I didn’t even hesitate. I walked out into the freezing air and falling snow. I wanted to know what exactly was going through Valerie Anderson’s mind.

  So I was going to ask her.

  Chapter Ten

  Romeo

  The sound of my ringing phone burst into my happy place.

  My happy place = dreaming about sex with Rimmel.

  I groaned and rolled to grab the offending noisemaker when the movement caused shooting pain up my arm.

  The phone kept ringing, so I reached for it at a much slower pace and pulled it toward me. The charger came out of the wall when I tugged and the long cord dangled from the bottom when I answered.

  “Yeah?” I answered gruffly.

  “Good morning, son,” my dad said into my ear. He sounded entirely too wide awake. I looked behind me for Rim to beg her to make coffee, but she wasn’t in the bed. A couple rumpled blankets, a pillow that bore the indent of my arm, and an askew cold pack were in her place.

  I blinked and looked toward the bathroom.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said with a lot less enthusiasm than he showed.

  “I’d like to talk with you. There are some things we need to discuss.”

  “It’s like the crack of dawn,” I rebutted.

  “It’s after two in the afternoon.”

  “Oh.” Well, ain’t that a bitch?

  “How’s your arm today?” he asked, concern taking center stage in his tone.

  “Same as yesterday,” I muttered. I didn’t hear any noise from the bathroom. Maybe she was in the kitchen.

  “Well, as long as it’s not any worse.”

  I grunted in agreement. Where the hell had the woman gone?

  “So you’ll come over to my office?”

  “Sure, Dad,” I muttered, wanting to get off the phone.

  “Good, see you in a few.”

  I started to pull the phone away from my ear, when Dad called my name.

  “Yeah?” I answered.

  “Rimmel is here. She’s in the kitchen with your mother.”

  Well, if that wasn’t a bucket of cold water right to the balls.

  “What the hell, Dad?”

  “So far there hasn’t been any yelling.” He said it mildly, almost like he was more intrigued by the paperwork on his desk than the fact Rimmel and Mom were alone.

  “I’ll be right there,” I snapped.

  I could have sworn he was laughing when I cut the call.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rimmel

  I walked right in.

  I figured knocking would have been too much of a sign of respect. She obviously didn’t respect me, so I figured I should treat her the same.

  Besides, Valerie wasn’t a stupid woman. She had to know this visit was coming. I might be shy and I might even be easily intimidated, but I wasn’t going to be pushed around.

  It wasn’t Romeo’s job to shield me from his mother; it was my job to make sure he didn’t have to.

  The inside of the home was warm and quiet. I heard someone moving around in the kitchen, so I followed the sound and steered myself in that direction. When I walked around the corner into the spacious, modern kitchen my eyes went immediately to Valerie, who was standing at the counter with her back to me.

  “I came to talk,” I said from the doorway.

  She didn’t stiffen or whirl around in surprise. She merely turned and gestured toward a freshly brewing pot of coffee.

  “Would you like some?”

  So my instincts had been right. She was expecting me.

  “I saw you coming across the lawn,” she explained as she drew down two white mugs from the cabinet above. “I assume Romeo is still sleeping?”

  “Yes.” I moved farther into the room. “I didn’t want to wake him.”

  “How is he doing?” she asked, concern clear in her tone.

  “He was sleeping peacefully. His arm was elevated, and I put on ice on the area before I came over here.”

  “And what about you?” she asked, her shrewd gaze landing on me to stare intently.

  “I think you know how I am.”

  She wasn’t surprised by my tone or my short reply. Like I said, Valerie Anderson was anything but stupid. It made me all the more curious.

  “Coffee?” She gestured toward the pot.

  The heady aroma of the dark brew was delicious and my stomach was growling, so I moved forward and took a mug.

  “Help yourself,” she said and moved away toward the fridge where she pulled out some creamer.

  I poured a healthy amount into the cup and took the caramel-flavored creamer she offered. Once it was added, I took a spoon from the counter and carried it over to a small nook lined with windows and sat down at the small café table.

  The view out the window vied for my attention: the sweeping lawn, the falling snow, and the bare branches of the mature trees all lined in white. But this visit wasn’t for pleasantries, and the view was most definitely pleasant.

  I tore my eyes from the glass and studied Valerie.

  She was dressed in a pair of
thick black tights and an oversized cashmere sweater. It was the color of lilacs and had one of those uneven hems where one side fell longer than the other. Her feet were covered in thick lilac socks, and her blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail on top of her head.

  If she was wearing makeup, it was minimal, and there were slight shadows beneath her brown eyes.

  She definitely didn’t look old enough to have a son Romeo’s age. It made me wonder how my mother would have aged over the years, if she would have been just as ageless as the woman who carried her own mug of coffee over to join me at the table.

  “It seems I owe you yet another apology.” She began.

  I held up my hand. “I don’t want an apology from you. I want an explanation.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, tucking her legs under her and sipping at her coffee.

  I mean, really. Did she have to look so put together all the time? I was sitting here bruised and battered with blurry vision, unwashed hair, and bandages around my wrist.

  I picked up my coffee and took a fortifying sip.

  “When Roman first started bringing you here, I hired a private investigator to do a background check. I wanted to know who my son was falling in love with.”

  “So when you found nothing that would keep him from wanting me, you decided to make something up.”

  “No,” she denied. Her voice was clear and held a note of truth. “I know you won’t believe this, but I liked you.”

  “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

  “Maybe not in the beginning, but once I got to know you. The time we’ve spent on the fundraiser has really shown me what a special girl you really are.”

  “Just tell me about my father,” I said. I wasn’t having a heart to heart with her right now. I wasn’t going to sit here and listen to her list all the reasons why she’d grown to like me when clearly all of those reasons had gone out the window the minute her snoop-for-hire called.

  “After he did the background check, I paid him for the job. I didn’t ask him to keep tabs on you or follow you. As far as I was concerned, the job was finished,” she said.

  I wrapped my hands around the mug and adjusted myself in the chair. My back hurt, but I forced my attention from the pain and sipped at the coffee.

 

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