Fair Catch - A Football Romance (13 page)

“He beat his wife, and she left the country with their kids,” I say. I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell him this. I feel like I owe it to him for not letting me kill my brother.

“I get it, man. That’s fucked up. Want some help with this?”

“Help?” I ask. I’m not sure what he’s offering.

“Yeah, I can make him disappear for ya,” —he snaps his fingers— “just like that.”

David looks up with horror in his eyes.

“River, you can’t. You wouldn’t,” he stammers.

I look at David and back at the MC, who shrugs.

“It’s your choice, man. I got your back either way.”

I can’t think. I am so fucking mad.

“I want to know what you did to Misty and the kids. Did you beat her up? Did you hurt your kids?”

My new friend looks at David with lazy, half-shut eyes.

“Better tell him what he wants to know.”

“Fuck me, man. Okay, yeah, I knocked her around a little.”

“And the kids?”

“Them too,” he says and hangs his head.

I can’t look at him anymore. I turn around and walk away. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my blood feels like it’s going to boil right through my skin. I look up at the clouds in the sky and try to wrap my head around my idiot brother’s actions.

I hear a scuffling behind me, and David yells, “River!”

When I turn around, he’s gone. An old green truck is speeding away, and my MC friend is lumbering back to his bike. When he reaches it, he swings his leg over the seat and pats his vest, where my autograph is tucked inside. He nods his head before starting his bike and pulling out of the lot with four guys flanking him on both sides.

I stand in the hot sun for a long time, staring at the road until the bikers and the truck are out of sight.

Did that just happen? Did a motorcycle club just kidnap my wife-beating, child abusing, piece of shit excuse for a brother? Do I even care?

A trickle of sweat runs down my back between my shoulder blades, and I get back into my car and drive in the opposite direction of the old green truck carrying my brother to what I assume will be his death.

Good riddance, big brother. Thank you, Karma, for being a major bitch today.

A
ngel

I walk down the main hall of Miss. Valentina’s school of dance at six o’clock with my duffle bag slung over my shoulder and a little extra spring in my step.

I am meeting with Cammie Onyx tomorrow. I thought meeting Ruby Bissette was fantastic, and it was, it really was. But Cammie can launch my career in a heartbeat. She’s the Pharrell Williams of the dance world with all the connections that could put me on stages in Russia and Paris and the Metropolitan Opera House in New York.

And River made it happen for me within seventy-two hours of meeting him. Miss Valentina has been telling me for years that I’m a great dancer but that I’m not quite ready for the next step.

River sees something in me that I’ve been hiding from myself. He sees greatness, potential, and success. It’s like he removed blinders from my eyes, and I’m discovering a whole new me.

My phone buzzes in my bag, and when I check the screen, my heart does a little flip in my chest. It’s River.

“Hey, good timing. I’m just leaving the studio.”

“Can I see you?”

His voice is flat, and he sounds tired.

“Are you okay, River?”

“Not really. Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait outside for you. Is there anything I can do?”

“Just be with me. That’s all I need. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

Something is wrong. There was a sort of desperation in his voice. What could be bothering him? Maybe someone on his team was injured, or even worse, his family. Maybe he got into some trouble or . . . I need to stop. I could go on and on playing this mental guessing game.

Outside, it’s a beautiful summer evening, not too hot, and a soft breeze is blowing the leaves on the trees lining the street in front of the studio. People are gliding by on their bikes, and I can hear children laughing and playing at a park nearby.

I press my back against the brick wall and slide down onto the sidewalk with my arms wrapped around my legs and pop my ear buds into my ears. I didn’t bother changing out of my black leotard and sheer pink skirt. I thought I was going straight home to shower, so I swapped my ballet shoes for flip-flops and left my sweaty clothes on. I hope River isn’t planning on taking me anywhere special because we are going to need a serious detour to my place first if he is.

He didn’t sound like he was in the going out sort of mood, though. He seemed like he needed to talk about something serious.

Now my mind is wandering again, worrying about all the things he might have to say to me like
This isn’t working out
, or
I think maybe we’re taking this too fast
, or
I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.

On and on, my brain invents reasons for him to leave me. Why do I do that? No one has ever abandoned me. Now that I think about it, there’s nobody to abandon me. My parents and my sister are physically right here in town. I can go and see them whenever I want to, but they aren’t, nor have they ever been, there for me emotionally.

I’ve existed on my own for so long, I don’t know how to let someone in, but I’d better learn how, and fast, because River isn’t someone I want to let get away.

Lost in my music and concentrating on thoughts of a future with River, I don’t hear him pull up and get out of his car. I look up when he stands in front of me, blocking the sun, and I smile, but he doesn’t return the gesture. He offers me his hand and helps me up. As soon as I’m on my feet, his mouth is covering mine and he has my back pressed against the cold bricks. He snakes one hand around the back of my neck, and the other is on my torso, dangerously close to cupping my breast.

I melt against him and breathe in the faint smell of his woodsy cologne mixed with sweat. I run my hands along his solid, capable arms and thread them through his hair. His shirt is damp, and so are the curls at the base of his neck.

The kiss builds into an R- or possibly an X- rating before I move my hands to his chest and gently push him away a few inches.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask. He leans toward me until our foreheads are touching, still holding me tightly.

“I had a crappy day. I just needed to see that there is something beautiful and pure and good left in the world.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Pretty Dancer. Let me take you home with me. We can have dinner and talk or have dinner and not talk . . . whichever.” He smiles, but it’s not his usual sparkling, carefree smile.

“I need to change. I didn’t shower before I left.”

“I like you dirty, and I’m not exactly spring clean either. We can shower together.”

“Hmm . . . a shower alone in my stall with no tub and a Lean Cuisine microwave meal with reruns of
Law and Order SVU
? Or sex in a cathedral-sized shower with the hottest man on earth and a gourmet dinner cooked by a professional chef?”

I hold out my hands with my palms up, pretending to balance my options. “I’m not sure,” I say and shrug my shoulders.

He rolls his eyes and scoops me up into his arms to carry me to his car.

“I never said anything about a professional chef and a gourmet dinner.”

“Ah, well that’s part of the deal then. I’m throwing that in myself.”

“Do you cook?” he asks while he tries to buckle me in. I take the seatbelt from him and buckle it myself.

“A little. I’ve never had much need to, but I can make a few things.”

“So you’re going to cook for me?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun.”

“After we shower,” he says.

“Yes, for sure, after we shower.”

He kisses me chastely and closes the door. I look out the window while he rounds the car. Sasha and two of her friends are standing by the door to the studio gawking and whispering into each other’s ears.

River slides in next to me and starts the car.

“I think we just put on a show for the girls.”

“Shit, sorry. I’m usually really careful about that stuff around kids, but you have no idea what a sight for sore eyes you just were.”

“They are exposed to much worse, I’m sure. Kids these days know too much for their own good.”

“I agree. My nieces are boy crazy already. I don’t want my kids to grow up so fast, but I don’t know how to prevent it other than moving onto a ranch and homeschooling them.”

“You like kids, huh?”

“I love kids like crazy. I want a half-dozen or more.”

He looks over to see my reaction.

“That’s a lot of kids.”

“Too many?”

“I guess that depends on what you consider too many. It’s a lot, that’s all.”

“Do you want kids someday?”

“I never thought about it. My future has always been dance. Just dance.”

“You never thought you might meet somebody and want to have a family?”

“Nope, family never meant much to me. Mine sorta blows, ya know? I figured it was one of the things I had to sacrifice for my career. Most of my friends who got married when we were in college are already filing for divorce.”

We ride along, listening to the radio for a few miles, and I start worrying again. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so honest with my feelings about family.

“So, are you saying you wouldn’t entertain the thought of having kids and settling down someday if you met the right person?” he asks.

“No, I’m not saying that.”

I could totally see myself settling down with River and having a baby.

“I’m confused. Say, for instance, this thing with us worked out and we . . . you know . . .”

“Fell in love?” God, I can’t believe I just blurted that out. He’s going to think I’m some kind of clingy dingbat, planning a wedding after one date. Well two, sort of, if you count riding in on a white horse and saving me from the wicked witch of the ballet, Miss Valentina. But he insinuated, didn’t he? I don’t know what else he could have filled the blank with.

“Yes, that. Would you have kids with me?”

“Six kids?”

“Any kids.”

“Well, maybe one or two,” I say and roll my eyes playfully.

“That’s an improvement from a minute ago when you said family blows.”

I grin and chuckle. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I wasn't exposed to many happy, well-adjusted families growing up.”

“No family is perfect,” he says, and I sense him shutting down again. Talking about kids had him cracking a smile, but all of a sudden, the frown line between his brows is back.

“River, you want to talk? Something about your family is bothering you, isn’t it?”

He reaches out and takes my hand in his.

“It’s my brother, David. I found out something about him today, something terrible.”

“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to go into details. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s all right. He’s been a thorn in the Kelly family’s side forever, but a couple of months ago, his wife and kids took off. I didn’t find out about it until now because I don’t come home as much when the team is traveling.”

“That’s terrible. Why did she leave?”

“He said she just disappeared, that she took the kids and left because she was sick of him, but today, I found out he’s been abusing all of them. They left the country, and they aren’t planning on coming back. She texted me and asked me to sell the house for her and send her the money.”

“Oh my God, she left the country? It must have been awful.” I don’t feel comfortable asking any more questions. I’m not sure how much of this he wants to tell me. His brother abusing his sister-in-law is pretty private family stuff.

“I don’t mean to unload my family’s dirty laundry on you.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“I feel comfortable talking to you. I trust you.”

He lifts our hands and kisses my knuckles.

“It’s weird. We’ve only known each other for a few days, but you’re the first person I needed to see today when the shit hit the fan.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” I say and smile. I know what he means, but I’m trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

“It’s a very good thing.”

“I can’t remember if I thanked you earlier when you called. I was a little out of control, but thank you for getting me that meeting tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome. I hope I don’t live to regret it.”

“Why would you?”

“You’re going to fly off to New York and Europe, and I’m never going to see you again.”

“What about you? Your job isn’t exactly an office job, you know.”

“If you really want something, you make it work. I’d make it work for you.”

“Then I’ll make it work for you too. If I become famous, that is.”

“You will, Pretty Dancer. I have no doubts.”

“So this is a thing? Like a serious, exclusive thing now?”

“This has been a serious, exclusive thing since I laid eyes on you in your class the other day. I like you, remember?”

“I do, and I like you too.”

“Good, it’s settled then. We are officially dating.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” I say, dragging out the word, boyfriend, like a lovesick teenager, and he smirks.

“As long as you’ll have me. So I can call you my girlfriend now too?”

“Yes, boyfriend, you may.”

“How about a kiss to make it really official?”

“I’ll give you a lot more than a kiss.”

He turns into the long, wooded driveway that leads to his house and steps on the gas. I brace my hand against the door and laugh as the car kicks up fallen leaves and sticks from the driveway.

“Shower first,” he says, throwing the car into park and hopping out. I’ve got my door open before he arrives to get it for me. He grabs my hand and slams the door, tugging me along into the house.

This is going to be so much better than lean cuisine and SVU.

So. Much. Better.

R
iver

Inside, breathing hard and frantic to get my hands on her, I slam the heavy wrought iron doors. I back her up against the glass and lift her arms over her head, suddenly slowing my approach and staring into her half-lidded eyes full of desire before covering her mouth with mine.

Our lips glide smoothly against each other, and a hint of her watermelon lip-gloss touches my tongue. She is warm and soft against my chest and vulnerable with her hands pinned above her head. I move my hand down her side and slide it behind her knee, pulling her leg up and around my waist. She effortlessly settles it on my hip and pushes her other leg into the same position. Her hot core is pressing on my rock hard cock, and it twitches. She moans when she feels me between her legs. The only thing separating us is a thin piece of material that dancers pass off as a skirt.

I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and bite down gently while sliding my hand under her skirt and squeezing a handful of her ass.

“Ah, I need to get you naked. I’ve been thinking of burying myself deep inside you for hours,” I pant in her ear between kissing her ear and nibbling on her neck. I grind my cock between her legs, and she gasps.

“Ah, God, River, take me upstairs.”

I step away from the door, and she continues to cling to my body as I ascend the stairs with one hand under each of her deliciously round ass cheeks.

Upstairs, I make quick work of turning on the shower, and I don’t even bother stopping to undress either of us. I keep kissing and squeezing and nipping while I adjust the spray and kick off my shoes.

I step under the rain showerhead, and she releases her legs, sliding down my body. When her feet hit the ground, she works on the buckle of my jeans with water pouring over her dark, smooth shoulders. When it’s unbuckled, I peel the thin tank top over her head and shove my wet jeans down and kick them into the corner. She drops her sopping wet skirt, and her panties quickly follow until we are both completely bare.

“Over here,” I say and lead her to a shelf made of the same smooth marble as the shower walls. It’s large enough for a small person to lie on and the perfect height for me to fuck Angel senseless.

Jets of water spray from all directions, keeping us warm and wet while I wrap my hands around her tiny waist and lift her onto the shelf, bringing us eye to eye.

I reach over her head into a crevice built for soap and slide out a condom that I placed there this morning. It was inevitable that I would get her into my shower, even though I wasn’t planning on it today until after the fiasco with David.

I tear the wrapper with my teeth, and she looks behind her to see where I got the condom while I roll it on.

“Nice,” she says and nods her head in approval.

“Put it there just for you. Now I’m going to put this right here just for you.” I open her legs wide and slip a long finger inside her hot pussy and drag her fluids forward to circle her clit.

She shudders and her hands reach out to press against the marble walls. I slide into her deep, and she angles her hips upward, inviting me deeper. I remove her hands from the walls and wrap them around my neck. With her soft cheek pressed up against mine, I start to move in and out.

She feels so fucking amazing. It’s like having sex for the first time with her, only better. Every time I slide in, her breath catches, and when I glide out, she sighs. Those noises are so incredible. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to do this if she keeps making them.

Then she starts to murmur in my ear with every thrust.

“Shoulders back,” she says very softly.

I push in.

She moans.

“Long neck,” she says, dragging out the word
long
.

I slide out.

“Ah,” she says with a sigh.

“Stomach in,” she whispers and tilts her pelvis up.

I go in deeper.

“Mmm,
Relevé
,” she says as I circle my hips.

I glide out and stare down at this beauty giving me sexy dance instructions in French.

“Arms out,” she says. Our eyes lock as I spread her arms out wide, and she presses her palms against the marble walls.

I enter her again, hard and deep.

“
S
tretch
,” she says, arching her back into me.

I pull out long and slow. She’s chanting the instructions Miss Valentina chants to her during practice, the same words she, in turn, says to us in dance class.

The reverence with which she says them is so fucking hot, I’m losing control. I can’t take her slow any longer. I start to hammer into her at a relentless pace, but it doesn’t stop her chanting.

“Higher, higher, higher . . .” she says, the tone of her voice rising each time.

She’s almost there, too. She started digging her fingernails into my shoulders when I picked up the pace. She’s holding onto me tightly, and I can feel her walls quivering, preparing for a killer orgasm.

“Reach, reach, reach, oh God, I’m coming, River, don’t stop,” she says as every muscle in her body contracts around me.

I follow her into a state of insane pleasure, pushing in and out of her trembling apex until we are left shell-shocked on the downside of our orgasms, being pounded by water in all directions.

“Breathe and smile,” she says, pulling away to look at me.

She’s smiling and flushed and wet and gorgeous, and I’m fucking in love with her.

I thought I knew what love was, but the reality is that until this moment, I was clueless. Angel makes my heart explode in my chest and my world brighter. This isn't just lusting. This is all-encompassing, soul-deep love.

“That was a perfect performance. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be a dancer, Football Man?” She says and kisses me on the mouth softly, but I can’t speak.

The realization of what’s going on between us is so overwhelming that I’ve been rendered speechless.

She takes my face in her hands, her expression changing from playful to concerned.

“You okay, River?”

I blink and shake the shock from my mind.

“Yes, that was . . .”

“Earth shattering? Fantastic? Prodigious?” she says, wiggling in my arms.

“Prodigious?”

“Yeah, unnaturally impressive. You know, Prodigious.”

“I did not, and yes, you were all of the above and more.”

“Thanks. You’re pretty great yourself.”

I push her onto the shelf so her back is against the marble and take her face in my hands.

“Angel, I’m going to be serious now, okay?”

She stills and nods her head silently.

“This thing between us, it’s getting serious for me fast. I feel things for you I’ve never felt before, and I want to make sure we are on the same page. Because if we’re not, I’m going to have to learn to check my heart at the door when we do this from now on.”

Her eyes widen and her lips part, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Shit, I went too far, and I’ve scared her off.

“I, uh . . .” she takes a deep breath, and I wait for the letdown.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she says.

Thank you, God, for that. I thought from the look on her face that she was about to tell me she couldn’t handle more than what we’re dealing with now, but no, she’s sitting right next to me on this rollercoaster ride.

Every muscle in my body relaxes, and I cover her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply and with more feeling than I’ve ever kissed a woman before. I try to relay how important she is to me and how much she means with my kiss, but I don’t think it’s possible.

This must be why people decide to spend the rest of their lives together. I feel like it would take me forever to prove my feelings to her, and that still wouldn’t be long enough.

When I release her from my oral proclamation of love, she is smiling again.

“What?” I ask.

“I think ballet shower sex is my favorite so far.”

“I’d have to agree with that statement, but there are so many other places to explore. We should try them all before we make any rash decisions.”

“I agree. Like ice cream, you have to try every flavor to know your favorite,” she says.

“Ice cream—now there’s an idea,” I say, pushing my semi-hard cock deeper into her.

“Is your plan to eat the ice cream? Because I’m starving.”

“Not really, but if you’re hungry, we can eat before rounds two and three.”

“And four and five?” she asks. Her face is so lit up and animated, she could ask me to fly her to the moon right now, and I’d say yes. Not like I’d ever turn down a fourth and fifth round of sex anyway.

“Oh yes, Pretty Dancer, don’t worry. I have plans for you all night long.”

“That sounds exhausting.” She slumps down against the wall, dramatically throwing her arm over her eyes.

“You don’t have anything until your meeting tomorrow, do you?”

She peeks out from under her arm. “No.”

“Good, let the exhausting begin.”

She giggles and drops her arm.

“Angel?”

“Mmm?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

I had to tell her. I want her to know I feel exactly how she does so there is no confusion on the matter. She’s mine now, no one else’s.

Her eyes fill with tears, and she wraps herself around me again. I carry her to the door of the shower, shut off the water, and place her on the marble counter between the double sinks. She shudders when her skin comes in contact with the cold surface, so I grab a towel from the stack on the counter and wrap it around her shoulders while I dispose of the condom.

“Robe?”

“Yes, please.”

I pat her skin dry and use the towel to dry myself as well before retrieving her Ritz Carlton robe from the back of the bathroom door where I left it last time she was here. It was nice seeing it hang there. It made her seem like more of a permanent part of my life.

“I’ll give you a little tour on the way to the kitchen.”

“Okay,” she says, hopping down from the counter.

“Are you warm enough?”

“Yes, for now.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and my dick hardens in my lounge pants.

“You’d better watch it, or you’ll never get any dinner.”

“Okay, okay, I promise to be good. Feed me.” She waves her hand toward the bathroom door, and I open it for her to pass through ahead of me.

“Down the hall on your right are two bedrooms and a bathroom. On the left are three more bedrooms and a small office where my personal assistant, Henry, works during the season.”

“You have a personal assistant?”

“Yeah, he’s amazing. He keeps me in the right place at the right time. I’d be lost without him.”

At the end of the hall, we head downstairs into the foyer.

“Foyer,” I say, spreading my arms. “Back there is my office, and the kitchen is this way.”

I take her hand and lead her through the living room and into the kitchen.

“There’s a theater and a game room downstairs and a pool and hot tub out back. Nothing like my sister’s setup, but I’m not trying to be an Olympic swimmer.”

“It’s beautiful and big. Why do you need such a big house when it’s just you?”

“I like to have my family over. The kids come, and we have big sleepovers and swimming parties and stuff. It’s fun.”

“You’re really into family, huh?”

She sits on a stool at the island and props her elbows on the granite with her chin in her hands.

“Family is the most important thing in life to me. I can’t imagine not having them around.”

“So these six kids you want to have . . . are you partial to boys or girls?” she says and looks around the kitchen.

“I couldn’t care less.”

“Me neither. You’re the youngest, aren’t you?”

“Yep, my brother, Noah, is the oldest. He’s forty. Mom and Dad had a kid every two to three years for about fifteen years.”

“I can’t do that,” she says abruptly. I’m squatting down, taking a pan from the cupboard under the island, and I freeze before I slowly stand and scan her face for the meaning behind her sharp words.

“Angel, I’m not insinuating that you have to drop your life and have a slew of babies for me. It’s just a dream of mine to have a family like the one I grew up in. If things work out between us and someday, God willing, you want to have a baby with me, I’ll be happy with however many you decide to have.”

She sits up on her stool and slides her hands under her thighs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out. We haven’t been together a week, and I’m worrying about having babies with you.”

I place the pan on the counter and round the island. I turn her stool to face me and kiss her softly.

“I’m glad you’re thinking ahead like me. It shows we’re on the same wavelength. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other better. All that stuff will come in its own time if it’s meant to be.”

She nods her head.

And I hope it’s meant to be.