by KB Winters
12
Grace
Justin kept his promise, refusing to leave my side for the rest of the practice session—much to his trainer’s and coach’s chagrin—and sat beside me on the bench all through the exhibition game. Neither of us saw Nathan Bailey again that night and while I was relieved, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being violated .
As soon as things wound down, Justin wasted no time in getting my things together and taking me out to his car. I felt everyone’s eyes on us as he guided me through the swarms of people. He flat out ignored anyone calling his name or asking for a photo.
He was a man on a mission.
Once we were safely hidden in the vehicle, he let out a frustrated sigh. “That was so fucked up.” He turned to me. “We have to report it.”
I shook my head. “We can’t, Justin, please. I don’t want this getting…” My throat closed up, choking the words away.
“Grace,” Justin said, reaching for me. He slipped a hand behind my neck. His thumb made hypnotic little circles on the base of my neck. “We can’t let him get away with this. I can’t allow that.”
“Justin, my dad will find out. I don’t want him to worry about me. Nothing happened. Can’t we just forget the whole thing?”
Justin turned the engine over and buckled up. I buckled my seatbelt and he pulled out of the lot. I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t care. As long as I was with him. Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Justin’s chic hotel and after he passed the keys off to the valet, we headed upstairs.
Justin’s hands started wandering in the elevator and by the time we burst through the door of the suite, clothing was flying off. For all his control, it was wild and uninhibited. I could barely catch a breath, let alone start to obsess over what was happening.
It was primal and hot and everything we needed.
All the emotions from our charged argument the night before poured into our lovemaking. We moved almost as one, each anticipating and filling every inkling and when we finally collapsed together in a heap, we were both breathless and wore satisfied grins.
“You’re a fast learner,” Justin said, rolling to his side. He grinned at me and traced a finger over my cheek and down to my arm.
I smiled. “Maybe I just had a good trainer.”
He laughed and then pushed forward to kiss me before getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom.
When he returned, he gave me a quizzical look as I sat on the edge of the bed, slipping into my panties. “What are you doing?”
“It’s almost eleven o’clock.”
He dropped onto the bed. “What if I said that I wanted you to stay?”
“What about the rules?” I asked over my shoulder.
Justin grabbed my hips and dragged me back under the covers. He dropped his lips to my ear as his hands went searching for trouble under the sheets. “Fuck the rules, girl.”
A week and a half after the awful encounter with Erickson and Bailey, I heard Bailey had been caught with a stash of pot in his locker. He was suspended from the team and league and disappeared from the training facility without a trace.
I knew Justin had something to do with it, but I never asked. Didn’t need to.
And I loved him even more for it.
The last couple of weeks of spring training passed like some kind of dream. Justin and I made everyone nauseated with our googley eyes during the day, and I spent every night in his bed.
We didn’t bring up the elephant in the room. In a few days, he’d be on the team’s private jet, flying back to Oklahoma City where he’d launch into the season, and I’d stay here to finish my senior year in school.
Eventually the curiosity—and dread—got to me. We’d just arrived at his hotel, where we spent most of our time together, and while Justin poured himself a whiskey, I perched on the edge of the couch. “Do you know what time your flight is leaving on Wednesday?” I asked casually.
“Ten o’clock I think.” He finished pouring and set the bottle aside. “Why?”
I avoided his eyes and stared down at my hands, carefully inspecting my nails. “No reason… I guess I just wanted to know what the plan is. For this. Us.”
“About that,” he started, reaching into his bag. He handed me an envelope and smiled as I peeled it open. “I was going to see if I could sweet talk you into playing hooky for a few days. Come to Oklahoma City and see me pitch on opening day.”
The contents of the envelope fell out—a first-class ticket to Oklahoma City for the day before the first game of the season.
“Well? What do you think? Feeling like taking a walk on the rebellious side?” He wiggled a brow for effect and I laughed.
“I don’t know… This is right around midterms.” I smiled up at him and slapped the ticket against my open palm a few times. “You gonna get mad if I bring a textbook to bed?”
He laughed loudly. “Baby, if you start bringing textbooks to bed, that’ll be my cue I need to go get some little blue pills.”
He wrapped me in his arms and the evidence that he was far from needing any help in that department brushed against me. A glimmer of mischief flashed in his eyes. “Come on. I need you there cheering me on.”
“How could I say no to a face this handsome?”
“I was kinda hoping you couldn’t.”
I grinned. “Then I guess you’re in luck.”
Justin kissed me slowly. “Grace, you have no idea just how damn lucky I am.”
Epilogue
“What do you think, Princess?”
A smile tickled my lips at Dad’s use of my childhood nickname. I’d likely be forty years old and he’d still go on calling me princess. There was something comforting about it so I never commented.
I reached over and wrapped an arm through his and rested my head against his large arm. “It’s great, Dad. Thanks for the tickets.”
Opening Day was being celebrated in style at the Warriors’ stadium. Every fan was presented with a t-shirt upon entering the park and the sea of team colors was mesmerizing. From my place in one of the executive boxes, it was even more impressive. I’d worn a long-sleeve white shirt and decided against the freebie tee for the one I’d worn in—featuring Justin’s name and number.
A detail my father hadn’t missed.
“’Course, your boyfriend—” he choked the word out, “could have probably done the same.”
I squeezed his arm and looked up into his eyes. “I like it better when you do it. It’s better this way, Daddy.”
He smiled and gave a brisk nod before swallowing hard.
I was his little girl—his princess—and while he was starting to come around on the idea that I was dating, he was having a harder time knowing it was a major league star. Justin was new to the Warriors but his fame and reputation proceeded him. He didn’t have glaring screw-ups on his record—no fist fights, drunken displays, or high-profile scandals—but to my daddy, he was still a long-legged pro-athlete. Nice guys, but all of them too much of a risk for his darling daughter.
Not that I was giving him much say.
He actually hadn’t voiced his concerns, but I knew they were there under the surface all the same.
“How’s that going?” he asked cautiously, glancing down at me. “Does he—does he make you happy? Treat you right?”
I nodded and unexpected tears sprang to my eyes. I sniffed them back. “Very happy. He’s amazing.”
Daddy dropped a kiss to my forehead and patted my shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me. “Good. It wouldn’t be good for the team if he were to suddenly…go missing.”
I snorted. “I didn’t realize you were a part-time mobster these days. Geeze, things sure have changed while I’ve been in Florida.”
My dad chuckled and squeezed me close. “For you, Princess, I’d go mobster in a heartbeat.”
“Very sweet, Daddy. But don’t worry, you won’t have to with Justin.”
Opening Day was a monster success. Justin was the star of
the show and with every picture perfect pitch, I was on my feet, screaming and hollering like the outcome of the game depended on it. He matched his career-high strikeouts at eighteen and had everyone in Oklahoma City—and beyond—buzzing with what the future was going to hold now that he was on the Warriors, joining a beefed-up lineup of stars.
The phrase World Series was tossed around liberally.
After the game, I waited outside the team locker room, wearing a VIP badge courtesy of my daddy. The media was still going crazy over the thrilling win. I hung back, pressed against a wall, drinking it all in. A few other wives and girlfriends were waiting in the wings and as I watched them out of the corner of my eye, I wondered if that would be my future. There hadn’t been a day since Justin left Florida that we hadn’t spoken on the phone. We texted each other constantly. I had no doubts that he was close to breaking things off with me. But at the same time, the practical side of my brain knew that keeping our relationship going when the season started was going to be a challenge. To say the least.
Justin’s schedule would involve a lot of travel and there’d be times I couldn’t go with him.
While I was still mulling it all over, the locker room doors opened and a flood of team staffers and the players came filtering out. They all wore happy—but exhausted—smiles and waved to the crowd gathered there. I pushed up onto my tiptoes to see over the sea of media and caught sight of Justin as he exited, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Cody Wright. Two of the best pitchers in the league. A quiver of nerves shivered in my stomach when I saw my daddy come up next to Justin and pat him on the back. It quickly faded when both men glanced up from their quiet conversation and found me in the crowd. They smiled and at the look in Justin’s eyes, all anxiety fell to the wayside.
It was all going to be all right. No matter what happened next, I knew we’d do our best to make it work and find time for each other despite the challenges.
My father veered off to address the press and Justin waved as he headed the other direction to his own press event.
The postgame conference took longer than normal, but that was to be expected for Opening Day. Forty-five minutes later, the crowd had died down and Justin found me. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and kissed my lips—not even a tiny bit worried about who might be watching.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly when we parted.
He chuckled and stroked a loose strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear. “Hey, babe.”
“How was the game?” I asked.
Justin’s face fell. “I thought you were watching…”
I laughed. “I was watching you. You’re just fun to look at.”
He leaned in and something sparked in his eyes. “Likewise.”
I went still as thousands of sensations danced over my skin. I quickly glanced around, hoping no one was watching us. Although we were fully clothed, Justin had a way of making me feel like we were doing something completely naughty with a single look.
“You sure you aren’t too tired from putting up all those strikeouts on the scoreboard all night long?” I ventured, walking my hands up his chest.
Justin’s lips found my ear. “Not a chance.”
I took his hand and shivered as our fingers intertwined. I knew exactly what his perfect fingers were capable of, and I was more than ready to get him alone.
“I got something for you,” Justin said, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket once we were situated in his new, dark SUV.
My stomach lurched. I certainly hadn’t been expecting a gift. After all, it was his big day, not mine.
He pulled out a slim box and handed it to me. “It’s not much,” he said as I took it from him.
I arched an eyebrow and slipped the ribbon away. A set of silver keys and a black key fob were nestled in a layer of white batting. “What are these for?”
Justin grinned. “They’re copies of my house keys. The smaller key opens the garage. The larger the front and exterior doors. The fob gets you past the security gate.” He picked them up and pressed them into my hand. “I want you to come live with me once you graduate.”
His words sent my heart skating in little happy circles. “Really?”
“I know you haven’t decided on where you want to go once you’re done with school. I thought I’d make the choice a little easier. Sweeten the pot, so to speak.”
I rolled the keys through my fingers, imagining what it would be like to go home to the gorgeous Moroccan-style mansion Justin had purchased shortly after arriving in the city. I never imagined myself living in a big fine home with my pro-ball player boyfriend.
I glanced up at him. “What does this mean though?”
Justin smiled and cupped my face with one of his perfect hands. His fingers twined through my hair and he gently pulled me close. “It means that I love you and that I can’t imagine living thousands of miles away from you for one minute, much less the rest of my life.”
My lips parted and all attempts to speak instantly failed. My mind raced through his words. “I—I don’t know what to say…”
“Say yes, Grace, tell me you wouldn’t want it any other way,” he prompted with another grin. “That’s all you have to say.”
I nodded. “Yes! Of course. I love you.”
“Come on, we have some lost time to make up for. Four days is way too damn long.”
I giggled and wrapped my hand around the set of keys as he revved the engine to life and ripped out of the stadium lot. I wasn’t going to argue.
At all.
Extra Epilogue
“I can’t believe this is really happening.”
“Believe it, baby,” Justin said, lounging back against the kitchen island. He watched me with a slow grin as I spun around the massive kitchen. My eyes went wide, trying to take it all in. I’d seen the kitchen before, during a couple of visits since spring training, but somehow, now that it was more than a weekend crash pad, it was like seeing it for the first time.
My eyes roved over the sparkling stainless steel appliances, gleaming marble counters, dark wood breakfast table, and the view of the pool and backyard through the French doors before moving back to Justin. I smiled at him as a shiver of an entirely different kind of anticipation skittered down my spine.
He returned my grin and beckoned for me. “This is all yours now.”
I arched an eyebrow but didn’t voice my objections. It was Justin’s house. His beautiful, eight-thousand square foot, suburban palace in the outskirts of Oklahoma City. The sprawling house sat inside a gated community, where most of our neighbors were retired rich people and other players of the Warriors team. I was living with him until I found a job, after that…well, that was still undecided. I couldn’t imagine life without the man standing just a few feet away from me. The man who made me feel like a complete sex goddess every day since I met him. I never wanted to leave, ever.
I took a casual step toward him and smiled at the way his eyes raked over my body. Justin never missed a thing. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to drag me upstairs yet,” I teased, walking my fingers up his hard chest. He wore a faded, vintage-style Warriors tee and a pair of jeans that fit him like they’d been hand tailored to his every line and muscle. Hell, for all I knew, they had been tailored. Justin certainly didn’t have a problem flashing his cash. A trait I was gradually getting used to.
He grinned, his eyes turning dark and wicked. He looped his arms around my waist and let his hands wander freely over my ass. When his fingertips reached the frayed hem of my cut-offs, he lightly squeezed on of my ass cheeks. Molten heat poured from his touch, lighting me on fire. I bit my lower lip as a soft moan escaped. “You’re trouble,” I teased. I worked my fingers up his chest and then along the back of his neck. They got lost in his thick hair and his eyelids slid closed for a moment of indulgence as my nails ran over his scalp.
His grip on my ass tightened as he dragged me fully up against him. I gasped at the rock hard package he had. He laughed at th
e surprise in my eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this day for too damn long, baby. I’ve got you all night and I’m memorizing every moment. I got time.”
The urgency building between my thighs wanted to argue.
I cocked my head at him. “Well, in that case, I suppose I should get started on the unpacking…” I teased.
He chuckled. “Not a chance.” His lips crushed onto mine and all thoughts dissolved.
Before meeting Justin, I’d never even had an orgasm, but in the months since, he’d given me hundreds. My body knew exactly what he could do and wanted him all the time. While I was living in Florida, finishing up my final semester of college, we’d sexted, shared steamy video chats, and even had good old-fashioned phone sex.
One night when I’d been out with friends at a bar, he’d made me go to the bathroom and finger myself while he talked dirty in my ear. I’d gone from pure and virginal to sex kitten in a matter of months, and while sometimes I wondered if I was in way over my head—maybe it was all too much, too soon—Justin would send a huge basket of flowers or chocolate. To anyone else in the world, he was a pro-ball player with a mean streak but with me, he was a big fucking pussy cat. He was a commanding man—no doubt. He knew what he wanted, and how he wanted it, but he wasn’t a bully. Far from it.
I trusted him with my life. And more than that, I’d fallen completely in love with him.
Justin ran his hand down the back of my leg and pulled it up to wrap around his narrowed hips. I rocked against him, cursing the layers of denim between us. He pulled away from the kiss and grinned down at me., tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Still want to unpack?”
I shook my head.
“Good.”
In a flurry of a motion, he backed me up and then swung me up over his shoulder. A startled yelp turned to a laugh as he carried me, fireman style, out of the kitchen.
