Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Katherine Lace

  Austin is silent for a few moments, as if he’s trying to decide what to say. Or as if he’s trying to hold back the emotion that might come out with his words. I’m not sure which, but I find myself blinking rapidly, my own eyes going hot.

  What is going on with him? Did he hurt himself again?

  I’m a little lightheaded suddenly, flashing back to Mason announcing that he would have been ready to play again if his physical therapist hadn’t been completely incompetent.

  Finally Austin looks straight at the camera that’s pointed at him. “I’m ready to play,” he says. “But I’m not going to.”

  “What the fuck?” I say it out loud, and on the TV the reporters’ voices rise, repeating the sentiment. Several of them even repeat the actual words, and since this is live and they all have microphones in front of them, there’s no way to censor it.

  Austin waits until the initial shock dies down. It doesn’t take long; they’re all beyond anxious to hear what he says next. So am I.

  “I’m quitting. Retiring. I’ve had some down time, and that got me to thinking. And now I realize there’s way more to life than football. I want to enjoy that part of my life before it’s too late.”

  He leaves some space for the reporters to ask questions, but nobody seems to have anything ready. There’s some mumbling, some confusion, and then finally one of the female reporters says, “What exactly do you mean by ‘that part of your life?’”

  Maybe his mother’s passed away.

  My breath catches at the thought. I’d liked her.

  “I have a date on Sunday,” he says quietly. “A date with a girl I’ve finally realized I’m in love with. I can’t live without her, and if I have to walk away from the game to keep her, then that’s what I’ll do.” His eyes lock on the camera. “I hope you’re out there listening, Doc.”

  He turns, and all the reporters start yelling after him. “Who is it?” “What’s her name?” “How long have you known her?” “Are you really quitting football?”

  He answers none of them. He just walks back inside the house and closes the door.

  I can’t breathe. Is Austin serious? He’s really quitting football to be with…

  Me. To be with me. He couldn’t have meant anyone else when he said “Doc.” Other people watching the broadcast will think he means the team doctor, or someone else who’s been working with him. But I know exactly what he means.

  Hands shaking, I turn the television off, grab my keys, and head out.

  In addition to the people I know are waiting in front of Austin’s house, there’s a group of reporters camped out just outside the gate into the complex. I have to slow the car down to about two miles an hour to keep from running over people. The security guy at the gate recognizes me, though, and waves me through, and the same time shouting back reporters who try to sneak in while my car passes onto hallowed ground.

  The crowd in front of Austin’s house has gotten bigger, if anything. I park my car about a block down the road and walk the rest of the way, shouldering my way past people I recognize as beat reporters and local sports news anchors. Some of them aren’t particularly polite about letting me slide past.

  “Just get the fuck out of the way or I’ll mace your ass,” I tell one when he blatantly tries to block me from the porch with his shoulders. I must look or sound threatening, because he eases back. I mount the steps, paying no attention to the muttering from the crowd, and I pound on the door with a clenched fist.

  There’s no response at first. I pound again. Finally I hear a slight shuffling on the other side of the door. I assume he’s checking the peephole, so I stare right into it. I hear the deadbolt unlock, then the door opens.

  “Let me in, Sherwood, you fucking moron.”

  He glances behind me, at the crowds who are, remarkably, staying off the porch. When he sees nobody is trying to push in after me, he moves back just enough to let me in, closing the door and quickly reengaging the locks.

  “What the fuck was that about on TV?” I demand, fists planted on hips, glaring up at him.

  He just looks down at me, not even remotely cowed, but there’s softness in his expression. He’s not going to try to bullshit me this time, I can tell. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I know that came out of nowhere, but I had to do it. I couldn’t see any other way to get through to you.”

  “You could have—” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “You weren’t answering your phone, weren’t answering my texts. I’m sure if I’d just dropped by, you would have slammed the door in my face.”

  He’s right. “That still doesn’t explain why you decided to put your whole career on the line just to get my attention.”

  “I guess I just wanted your attention pretty damn bad.” His soft smile takes the edge off his words, leaving me standing there with no idea what to do. Automatically, my thoughts flick to the other subject he mentioned.

  “You said you’re ready to play? Are you sure about that?” I can’t let that get past me—it’s my job to make sure he’s ready, and I haven’t seen him in far too long.

  “As sure as I can be without you, Doc.” That smile still curves his mouth; it’s so intimate, almost like he’s touching me. My cheeks go warm, and I shake off the feeling by moving into PT mode.

  “How about you let me take a look?”

  Of course he can’t let that opportunity slip by. “You can take a look at anything you like.”

  I roll my eyes. “Then let’s get started.”

  He doesn’t hesitate about stripping down so I can take a look at his injured leg.

  It looks good. Surprisingly so. I would have thought he’d need a bit more work on it—maybe another five or six sessions—but he’s got most of his mobility back, and the joint’s showing good extension.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask him, bending his knee back and forth.

  “Not really.”

  “Not really? What does that mean exactly? Give me a points scale.”

  “Three?”

  Three out of ten. Not bad at all. I set his foot carefully back down and pat the knee. “You can play, as far as I’m concerned.” I lean toward him, looking directly into his face. “I give you my blessing.”

  He can’t hold eye contact, though, and lowers his gaze. “I don’t want to,” he says, so quietly I’m not sure at first what he said. “Not if it means I can’t be with you.”

  He’s so sincere, and my eyes prick with tears. “Don’t say that.” It’s hard for me to keep my voice steady. “Football is your life.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s my career. It’s not my life. That’s my family. My Momma. Emma.” He pauses. “You.”

  “Austin, I’m not—”

  “I want you to be. If football is what’s keeping that from happening, then fuck football.”

  I have to blink hard. “Austin…” I’m at a loss for words.

  He moves closer to me, taking my hands in his. “I love you, Chloe. If you want me to play, I’ll play, but not if it means losing you.”

  I don’t know what to say. The tears are flowing now, but I’m laughing. “It won’t. I promise it won’t.” And then I’m kissing him like there’s no tomorrow, like we didn’t just promise to be together.

  He pulls me abruptly up into his arms, almost roughly, lifting me against him, and heads for the stairs. In the back of my mind, I’m wondering if this is a good idea—he could hurt himself again carrying me upstairs. You said yourself he was okay to play football—if he’s okay to play he’s okay to carry you—

  I can’t even finish the thought before he lurches on the steps. I grab hold of him, afraid he’s going to drop me.

  “Oh my God, Austin, if you fuck up that knee again…” My on-the-way-to-the-pillow-talk remains on point.

  “Just tripped,” he says, and as if to prove he’s fine, he jogs up the last few steps. I grab tighter again, because he’s jogging, and again I’m afraid he might drop me. It makes me laugh though.

  I laugh mo
re when he tosses me onto the bed and I bounce a couple of times, making one of the pillows fall off the side. He falls right next to me and another pillow makes an ignominious exit. Then his mouth is on mine and I’m laughing against his tongue and he’s laughing back, his hands pulling at my clothes.

  He gets my shirt off over my head and bends to bite a nipple through my bra, hard enough that I slap him. He lets go and grins at me. “I love you. Did I tell you that?”

  “I think so. Maybe not. Maybe you should say it again.”

  “I love you.” He sobers. “I loved you right from the beginning.”

  “When you were acting like a complete asshole?”

  “I acted like an asshole because I wanted your attention.”

  “You seem to do a lot of stupid things just to get my attention.”

  “Love makes me super idiotic.”

  “I’ll vouch for that.”

  He kisses me again, and I shut up when the heat of his palm touches my breast. It sends an electrical shock through my body, making my skin tingle. The air stills as he unlatches the front of my bra. My gasp cuts the air as my tits spill out. Then he kneads and strokes and plays with my nipples. He sucks me into his cavernous mouth, the wet sting of his tongue sending a jolt of arousal straight to my pussy.

  Holy shit, I’ve missed this.

  He closes a hand between my legs, his grip firm like he’s holding me down onto the bed. Through my jeans, he presses into me. His fingers are hard and insistent, and for a split second I think he’s actually pushed fingers, panties, and denim right up inside me. It’s a strange, intense feeling, almost harsh, and that splinter of almost-pain sends me over. His teeth clamp onto one nipple, and I howl at the sensation as it stabs right to my clit.

  He unfastens my jeans and pushes his hand inside, tugging them partly down. His fingers probe inside me and I cry out again, grabbing at his shoulders. He pinches my clit, sending a stabbing sensation deep into me. My eyes start to water; I’ve never had anything hurt so much and still feel so damn good. Everything inside me goes quiet, and I just let myself feel.

  Austin jerks my jeans the rest of the way off, and then my panties. A thrill runs through me when I see his expression has changed. He’s not laughing anymore—he’s dead serious, focused. Feral.

  “Austin.”

  A predatory smirk tugs at his lips, and his eyes flick up to meet mine. Before I can quite catch my breath, he buries his face between my legs. His teeth ease over my clit. He makes a hissing sound of amusement when I jump, my thighs closing around his face.

  This time he uses his tongue. A wet, hot length reaches all the way back, sending another jolt of ecstasy in my pussy. My skin sears with the sensation, and then he flicks his tongue across my clit.

  “Oh my God.”

  He chuckles, which feels crazy-good against my pussy, vibrating all that tender skin. I shiver while he strokes along the insides of my thighs, spreading them wider. He holds one leg in place at the knee, toying with the sensitive skin inside the bend of it, while his other hand goes back to ground zero. At least two fingers slide inside my pussy while his thumb moves backward on the slickness of my juices and rings my asshole.

  I keep shaking, pulsing, while he pumps into me with his hand and presses gently against my ass. I’m so over-sensitized I almost can’t take the feeling of his tongue on my clit, but as I shift my body, the sensation becomes another deep, intense pool of need.

  He draws his fingers free, replacing them with his tongue, stabbing it deep into me.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “That’s it, baby.”

  I let out my breath in a hard exhale, and a few seconds later I realize I’m still holding my breath. He fucks me so good I’m forgetting how to breathe. His tongue slides free, licks my inner lips. I keep myself still, just feeling.

  He keeps it up, fucking me with increased pressure and enthusiasm. Oh my God, this feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before in my life. I look down, seeing Austin’s head bobbing up and down between my legs. He lets out a grunt as I dive my fingers in his head of hair and yank. Fuck, it feels too good. My thighs—my pussy—everything throbs with a persistent ache. The desperate need for more suffocates me until I can almost feel Austin’s cock inside me, even though he’s just using his fingers.

  Then Austin eases his hips between my thighs, stroking his cock across my belly before he shifts down. My thighs shake and I let out a soft cry as he sinks inside.

  He gives a low moan. I’m still riding the edge as my walls expand around him. He anchors deep, filling me up. I feel myself tightening and releasing on the shaft of his dick.

  This is mine. And I’m his. The truth of it hits me so hard I can’t catch my breath as he quickens the pace of his thrusts, pounding hard into me. Everything feels so tender, over-sensitized, almost raw as he fucks me. I’m not sure how much more of it I can stand, but at the same time I never want it to stop.

  “Look at me,” he says. His voice is firm, and I immediately do it. His eyes are glassy, not quite focused, but I hold his gaze tight. “Chloe.”

  “Austin.”

  “Forever.” He slows for a moment, his cock striking my pussy with a vibration I can feel in the back of my throat. “You get that, right?”

  I can barely talk. Can barely breathe. I nod. “I get it.”

  His smile is soft and a little crooked. “Good.”

  And he lets go, everything that’s in him filling me up, never taking his eyes from mine until the last second, when our orgasms shatter the quiet. The wave crashes down on me hard, spreading ecstasy through my veins like liquid fire. Austin lets out a deep groan that sends another thrill to my heart. His eyes close and he leans down and kisses me.

  Forever.

  That sounds really good to me.

  14

  Austin

  I love the off-season these days. Long summer days, time off to spend with the kids. And Chloe, of course.

  After five years of marriage, I still get that flutter in my chest when she walks into the room. Especially when she saunters in with our three-year-old on her hip, balancing him against her very pregnant belly. There’ll be five of us in a few weeks—Me, Chloe, Emma, Ben, and the little girl we’re going to name after my momma.

  Momma’s gone, but she got to see Chloe and me at the altar. Emma spends a lot more time with us now. I’m not sure what happened, but about a week after we got married, Chloe had “lunch” with Megan, and the next thing I knew, I was signing new court papers that said I had primary custody and Megan got a weekend every month. I felt bad about it at first, but as time went by, Megan actually started to act like it worked better for her. She’s married too, now, and her new husband gets along great with Emma. So does Megan. I think in the long run, it turned out best for all of us.

  But especially for me. I give Chloe a grin, and she gives me that lopsided smile that means if I play my cards right, I’ll get lucky once the kids are in bed. Which is perfect, because damn if she isn’t sexy as fuck with that baby inside her.

  “You got my dinner cooked yet?” she asks me, giving me a once-over like she’s stripping me naked.

  I laugh and walk over to take Ben from her. “Not quite yet. You want to help me out with that, buddy?”

  “Yup,” says Ben.

  I wink at Chloe, and Ben and I start working on grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Emma wanders in halfway through the process and helps dish things up.

  After dinner, I supervise while Emma reads Ben a bedtime story. She’s just learning to muddle her way through Green Eggs and Ham, and it’s the cutest damn thing ever. When we’re done and Ben is all tucked in, I tuck Emma in and head back downstairs to see how Chloe’s doing. After dinner is her alone time right now, so she can get in a bit of rest. The pregnancy is weighing pretty heavily on her, and I can tell she’s more than ready to meet our newest family member.

  She’s stretched out on the couch when I come down, eyes closed and one hand cupping her
belly. I ease down onto the couch next to her and take her hand in mine.

  “How are you doing, baby?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look tired.”

  “Of course I look tired. I’m like, thirty-seven months pregnant.” She sighs. “Why did I decide to do this again?”

  Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead gently. “Because Ben is a great kid, and Mirabella will be, too.”

  She smiles a little. “I know.” She reaches up to stroke a hand through my hair. “Mirabella. It’s such a delicate name for a baby who kicks like a soccer player.”

  “Well, maybe she’ll be into sports like her daddy.”

  I stroke the wide curve of her belly. The baby seems still at the moment, but Chloe’s stomach rises and falls as she breathes.

  We’re quiet for a few minutes, and then I lean forward and kiss the back of her shoulder.

  “I love you, Austin,” she says after a few moments.

  “I love you too, Doc.”

  She laughs. “I guess if I haven’t gotten you trained by now, it’s probably a lost cause.”

  Tracing my nose along the curve of her neck, I tell her, “Doesn’t mean you should stop trying.”

  “Never,” she says. “Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll learn.”

  “I doubt it.”

  I pull her into my arms and we both lean into the couch. My hand on her belly feels movement now; maybe we woke up the baby. There’s a tiny foot pressing against my palm, and then it pulls back. In a few weeks, she’ll join Emma and Ben and Chloe and me. My first game back, I’ll dedicate to her.

  I’ve got everything I ever wanted and more. And I’m never, ever giving it up.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading Lady and the Champ! Please remember to leave a review on Amazon if you enjoyed the story. Next in the bundle is Hot Damn, another sizzling romantic comedy!