Indulgence (272 page)
Authors: Liz Crowe
“Yeah, Parker. My shrink. The guy who keeps me from going
bat shit over the fact that I’m…that I…oh hell.” He got to his feet, rolled his
shoulders and touched his chest where Parker had shouldered him. “Nice one.
Should leave a good bruise.” A beat of silence filled the space between them.
“When were you going to tell me you wanted to leave the team?”
Parker got to his feet slowly, keeping his eyes on Nicco’s.
“I didn’t know you were seeing a psychologist. Is it the,” he felt his face
redden, “the sex thing?”
Nicco jerked his chin up, his eyes darkening ominously.
“Yes. It is. I have a problem. A serious problem and you do not need to be a
part of it. Okay? So, are you going to answer my question or what?”
“What if I want to be? Part of it, part of you, I mean.”
Parker’s heart hurt, his lips burned to kiss and soothe the distraught man
standing so close to him. “And I wanted to leave the team because I thought
you…didn’t…care about me. I guess. And I just couldn’t be here, playing with
you if you…stopped…caring.” He blushed and looked up at the ceiling of the
massive arena.
Just say the word, Parker
. He looked back into Nicco’s
eyes and let the words tumble out. “I love you. And you stopped loving me, if
you ever did. So…I needed to go.”
Nicco narrowed his eyes, flashing Parker the sort of glare
that shot directly to his libido. “I love you too, Parker.” He kept his
distance, confusing Parker with body language more about “get the fuck away from
me” than the words he had actually spoken. “But now I’m afraid you have your
own set of problems.” Nicco stepped back, putting even more distance between
them.
Parker stared at him, the perfect V shape of his torso, the
way the sweat-soaked shirt clung to his body. “Um, huh?” he tried to focus and
figure out how to fix this.
“Ashley called me yesterday.”
“Ashley,” Parker repeated, not understanding.
“Yeah. She’s pregnant. And it’s not the casino boyfriend’s
kid. It’s yours.”
Parker got the sucker-punched sensation again, and this time
he dropped back to his ass on the turf, head pounding. Nicco crouched in front
of him, brushed a strand of sweaty hair off his forehead.
Parker gripped his wrist, yanked him close, their lips
inches apart. “I want to be with you,” he whispered, running a shaking hand
across Nicco’s rough jaw. “Ashley means nothing to me. I love you…I—”
“I know that,” Nicco interrupted, softening his tone. “She
told me what happened. However, the fact remains, you knocked the girl up.
Therefore you now have a certain level of responsibility that may not…play well
if we…I mean.” He rose, staring down at Parker whose legs were so wobbly he
didn’t even try to get back up.
Nicco held out a hand and tugged Parker to his feet. They
stood close enough to kiss, merely staring at each other. “I’ve thought a lot
about this, Parker,” Nicco said softly. “And I don’t think it will work. Not
that I don’t love you. I do love you. A lot. But you can’t afford to be
entangled with me, with this whole gays in sports thing. You are gonna have a
kid. You have to be something…else. It won’t be fair to you, or your…child.”
Nicco looked away.
Parker started walking away, his vision blurry with anxiety.
He turned when he was halfway across the field and yelled at the top of his
lungs. “I love you, Nicolas Garza. I don’t give a fuck who knows about it.” He
pointed, his hand still shaking. “If you want to cop out, freak out and push me
away, I want you to know right now it’s your fault we won’t be happy. I will
tell the whole goddamned world how I feel about you. I don’t care. I’m sick of
your excuses.”
Nicco started toward him, his lips settled in a tight line.
Parker kept walking backward, willing Nicco to keep coming, to follow him out.
When his back hit the wall of the entrance ramp leading from the pitch down to
the locker rooms, they were in near complete darkness. Parker reached out,
found Nicco’s hand, and tugged him close. “Don’t do this to us,” he whispered
before slanting his lips over Nicco’s, groaning with relief at having the man
back in his arms. “Don’t.”
Three Years Later
Nicco smiled as he turned the corner from the kitchen into
the large sunny family room. He held a backpack and a small soccer ball. Ross’
mother had just sent him a text to say she’d be about ten minutes late but
couldn’t come in and could they send the boy out to her. His heart jumped into
his throat at the sight of the child sitting in Parker’s lap, a book open in
front of them.
Parker had his chin resting on Ross’s dark blond head,
letting the boy turn the pages. Of all the things Nicco ever imagined himself
doing, co-parenting a boisterous, energetic and scary-smart son with his lover
had not been one of them. But he wouldn’t trade the last few years for all the
money in the world. He leaned in the doorway, watching. Then when his phone
dinged with a text he remembered what he’d told Ashley.
“Hey, kid, your mom’s here. She’s in a hurry. Here’s your
stuff.”
Ross looked up and beamed at Nicco. When the boy leapt off
Parker’s lap and made a bee line for him, Nicco knelt, taking the warm little
body in his arms, and held him close. “Uncle Nicco, I don’t wanna go.”
“Sure you do. Your mom needs you and so does Anthony,” he
named Ashley’s accommodating, wealthy, casino-boss husband. “And I hear your
baby sister misses you so…off you go!”
Ross held him in a death grip, his arms strong for a
toddler. Nicco stretched out his other arm and enfolded Parker in the group
embrace. Finally Ross lifted his face from Nicco’s shoulder, his impish grin
back in place.
“Love you, Uncle Nicco. Love you, Daddy,” he said, wiggling
down to the floor and grabbing his stuff. “See you tomorrow night? At the
game?”
“Yep,” Parker crouched down and gripped his son’s hand. “I
love you too. Be good for your mom and Anthony and give baby Ellie a kiss for
me.”
The two men stood at the door, waved to Ashley, and watched
Ross clamber up into his car seat. She blew them kisses after fastening him in
and sped away in her obnoxiously expensive SUV. Parker sighed and leaned into
Nicco a moment. “I miss him already.”
“Me too.” Nicco kissed Parker’s hair, then tugged him back
inside. “I have an idea for some activity that could distract us, however.”
*****
Later, after a long run, then dinner, Parker lay on the
leather couch, watching an English Premier league match. Nicco brought in a
couple of cold bottles of beer. Accepting one, he moved his feet to make room
on the couch, reflecting on the tumultuous last few years with a smile. The two
men had become an acknowledged, accepted couple. They led a few low-key
fundraisers for gay rights in the workplace and, of course, for same-sex
marriage. It killed Parker that if anything happened to him and he was
incapacitated, the damn owner of his team had more say over him than did his
partner of the last three years.
After three winning seasons no one would argue with the
Black Jacks’ success. The leadership remained solid. Metin and Rafe had settled
into their roles as co-coaches. A new goalie had been signed for the coming
season. They had a new legal department able to ride herd on the crazy shit the
promotions people concocted. The stupid blog the marketing geniuses has set up
had been shut down after getting several players in trouble as fans took it as
a challenge to catch a “BJ” out misbehaving and posting it up on the site as
quickly as possible. Nicco had lain low, remaining completely out of the
limelight except for his abilities on the field, which proved just as amazing
the subsequent seasons as the first.
And Parker loved him. Was truly, madly, head over heels with
the man. Not that they did not have their differences of opinion. They were
prone to knock-down drag-outs, leaching onto the field at times, just like any
other couple that worked together, he supposed. He plopped his bare feet onto
Nicco’s lap and sipped his beer. Nicco changed the station to some random
violent movie, leaving Parker content to drift and observe his lover’s profile
as he got sucked into the killing and bloodshed on the screen.
At one point, as if sensing Parker’s gaze on him, Nicco
glanced over, his face lighting up with a smile that made Parker’s heart pound.
He had continued his therapy and fully owned up to his past addictive
tendencies. He fought the demons still, but Parker kept him focused, and having
a baby, then a toddler around half the time kept them both near exhaustion.
Being a parent had made Parker feel complete. He adored his
son and truly appreciated the boy’s mother, who had so readily agreed to let
him be a huge part of Ross’s life.
The hand Nicco had resting on Parker’s leg moved up, under
the towel Parker wore after his shower. “Mmmm….” Parker sighed and slid down,
shivering as his lover grasped the hard-on he’d been sporting since Nicco had
come into the room. “Whatcha gonna do with it?”
Nicco shrugged, feigning boredom as he kept his gaze on the
large screen, but his hand moving against Parker’s flesh. “I’ll think of
something,” he muttered.
Parker sat up, turned Nicco’s dark face to his. “I love
you,” he said, threading his fingers in the man’s silky black hair.
“I always knew you were insane.” Nicco smiled. “Now lay
back. I just figured out what I want to do with this,” He yanked Parker’s towel
off and crouched between his legs.
“Yeah, baby,” Parker groaned and fisted his fingers in
Nicco’s hair, fucking his mouth until he came in an explosion of erotic energy,
groans, and sighs.
Nicco got up to his knees, wiping his mouth, his eyes dark
and sparkling. “Flip over, lover boy. I need to fuck you.” The low, sexy growl
of his voice made Parker’s entire body zing with anticipation. He grabbed a
tube of lube from the coffee table drawer, handed it over, and dropped his
towel, presenting his ass to the other man’s gaze.
Parker gripped the couch arm, groaning in pain and pleasure.
“God! Yes!” Nicco cried out, pounding into him, gripping his
hips, then draping over his back. Sweat slicked their skin. Nicco nipped at his
shoulder, making Parker yelp and squirm, then sigh when Nicco pulled out of
him. He grabbed the towel and sat.
“I love you, Parker,” Nicco said simply, as he dropped down
to one knee on the floor. Parker looked at his outstretched palm. It held two
heavy silver rings. “I want to be with you forever. Please.”
Parker took one, and slid it onto Nicco’s left ring finger
then let his lover do the same for him. “This is gonna cause another shitstorm,
you know,” he said as he pulled Nicco into his arms.
“I don’t care,” Nicco declared before dropping into sleep,
leaving Parker to run his fingers through his hair, contemplating how much of a
mess it would cause and how they’d weather it together.
The End
Best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer
blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky
native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann
Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an
eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a
groundbreaking fiction hybrid, “Romance. Worth the Risk,” which has gained
thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the
“WHA” (“What Happens After?”).
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries,
on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic
locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh
voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex
storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight,
frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk
bodily injury.
Connect with Liz
by
Nina Levine
Evie – 16 years old
“You do know the only reason every guy in school wants you
is because they all think you’re just as much of a slut as your mother is,
don’t you?”
I finished washing my hands before turning off the tap and
lifting my head to look in the mirror at the three bitches standing behind me.
They always seemed to wait until I was alone in the school toilets before
attacking me with their hateful words.
“You do know the reason every guy in school
doesn’t
want you is because you’re a nasty, spiteful cow, don’t you?” I threw back at
Stephanie, the ringleader, before turning to face them.
I watched her eyes widen in surprise. She quickly regrouped
and spat some more nastiness at me, “You might be pretty now but looks don’t
last, so I recommend if you actually want to lose that virginity you’re hanging
onto, to pick one of them and get it done. The rest of your life will be
downhill from here and you might not get another chance. I mean, it’s gone to
shit now anyway, Evie, so I’m not sure why you would even hope that it’ll get
better. Your sister is gone and your mother screwed her way to fucking up your
family . . . and if you think Kick will ever see you as more than a friend,
you’re dreaming.”
My hand connected with her cheek a second later and the
sound of the slap echoed through the tiny room. Anger pumped furiously through
my veins at her words. She’d been throwing words like these at me for months
now and, in my grief, I’d been ignoring them. Ignoring
her
. But she’d
pushed me now and I’d had enough.
