Playing For Forever: An Erotic Love Story (Playing For Keeps Book 3) by J.C. Grant (9)

It was hot.

Just thinking about it got me wet.

In my opinion, he was winning our little sexy game.

Tucking my phone back in my purse, I pulled out my iPod, popping my earbuds in, and lay back, relaxing into the opulent leather seat.

 

 

 

 

 

David

 

Goddamn.

I stared at the nude pic of my wife. My eyes devouring every pixel of her heart-shaped face down to those big tits, narrow waist, and rounded hips. 

My girl was smoking hot.

All it took was a little aggression to get her nice and pliant again. She’d been sweet and sexy all day.

When I zoomed in on her pussy, I felt my cock hardening.

Fuck. 

“Taylor!” Coach yelled, killing my growing erection. Which was a good thing. I didn't need a hard-on around these guys. 

Reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from Austin’s nude form, looking over at him. Coach gestured to my phone. There wasn't a specific rule about cell phones in the dugout, but it was frowned upon.

“My wife, Coach,” I said simply.

He waved me off with a muttered, “Keep it out of sight.”

Unable to stop myself, I turned my attention back to Austin, back to her smooth cunt.

“That's your wife?” one of the rookies asked, leaning in.   

In the next second, I was up, my hand on his neck, shoving him back.

“Hey, whoa!” Coach yelled.

“Taylor, man, chill!” someone yelled.

Taking a deep breath, I let go, taking half a step back.

“What the fuck did you do?” Dwight demanded quietly, looking at the kid.

Dwight and Martinez had flanked us, ready to stop me.

Like they could.

They didn't have a clue what I was actually capable of.

“I was… I was just—” he stuttered, pointing toward my phone with a wide-eyed, shocked expression.

My jaw clenched, my muscles taut as I stared him down.

“Fuck, dude, is Austin sending you nude pics?” Dwight turned to me. “No wonder you're always on it.”

Ignoring him, I tried to get myself under control, taking slow, deep breaths. This was what Fergus had been worried about. I knew it had become a problem since I met Austin, my aggression.  

I'd been denying it, downplaying it. Mostly because, with Austin around, I could control it. With her around, my need for violence shifted, turning into a strong, overwhelming protective instinct—the need to keep her safe, happy, and well fucked.

Maybe it was also because she'd seen me at my worst. She'd seen the monster inside me, and she embraced it, took comfort in it, loved me more for it.

But giving her space, letting her do her show, letting her have a life without me, my need for violence was getting stronger.

All the emotions she stirred up in me...

“Shit, are you for real? Fuck, I wouldn't need a side bitches if my wife sent me shit like that,” Martinez chimed in. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

My teeth ground together and my nostrils flared. I was so fucking tired of Martinez constantly comparing his wife to mine, but I ignored him and stayed focus on the rookie.

“See me on my phone, you stay the fuck away from me, kid,” I warned quietly.

If it'd been any of the other guys, I'd have laid 'em out, no second thoughts. But this kid was immature, naïve, and small; I had at least six inches on him and sixty pounds. I wasn't into beating on a little guy, no matter how stupid he was.

“Sorry, I thought—”

Turning my back on him, I returned to my spot in the corner, stretching my legs out along the bench.

Nobody’s getting close to me this time.

“Rookie, that's his wife,” Dwight added.

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. Stay away from him before he knocks you through a wall,” Coach finished the discussion.

Wasn't so sure I could knock him through a wall.

Maybe...

It was the middle of the seventh inning when I finally got a text from Austin letting me know that they'd arrived at the stadium.

They being her, Fergus, and Evelyn.

I'd spent the morning with Evelyn, hitting the gym, grabbing brunch. Austin had warned me she was unpredictable, and I'd already known that from the holidays, so I didn't think much of it. But it seemed Evelyn was more unpredictable and brazen the better she got to know you.

As soon as we had sat down she asked, “Does Austin like sex? I mean, is it good, like, is she into it, is she creative? Are you guys having it often?”

I froze, just staring at her.

“I know Austin is having problems with the sex scenes, I’m just worried this role is picking open old wounds, stirring up her issues.”

At her clarification, I relaxed.

“I, uh...” I hesitated. “I’ve been doing the nude scenes with her.”

We had already done five; three more to go.

“Oh, good. So she’s not having any problems?”

“Well...” I scanned the room, making sure we didn’t have an audience. “The auditions are what caused the problem, but the doctor has been helping her.”

“She’s seeing a psychiatrist again?”

“Yeah,” I drew the word out as I considered why Austin wouldn’t have told Evelyn about Vaughn. “It became a regular thing after the incident in Phoenix...”

“She hadn’t had an incident in years, I thought she had grown out of it... I should have warned you about that,” she whispered apologetically. “She’s used to getting away with murder—not literally—but you know.

At my confused expression she continued. “Her grandfather, the one that took care of the guys that raped her, he was Chief of Police—for over a decade. That’s why he handled those guys the way he did,” she whispered conspiratorially. “But when Austin would... lash out at guys, my dad would... make it go away.”

Instantly, so many things made sense. Austin's temper, her fear of me getting arrested, her utter lack of horror at seeing me savagely beat Zach, the sex in Aspen, and her words from so long ago...

Anger’s the only emotion I’ve ever been comfortable expressing.

She had the same rage simmering inside her that was inside me. Lingering right below the surface, waiting for it’s chance to take over. 

“Has she.” Evelyn's hesitant voice interrupted my new insight into my marriage. “Has she hit you?”

“Once,” I hedged. “That I didn’t ask for.”

“You ask her to hit you?” Evelyn’s voice was soft and full of disbelief.

Deciding to match her brazenness, I answered honestly, “It’s a sex thing, a way to let go, release.”

“Really? How?” There was no judgment, just curiosity. 

We'd had a nice, candid conversation about it. By the time we left the restaurant, I realized her mother was my best ally in keeping Austin.

Austin.

I couldn't wait to see my girl and sink my dick into her sweet cunt.

“Taylor, you're up!” Coach called.

Exiting the dugout, I grabbed my bat, heading up to the plate, scanning the stands, looking for Austin.

Just as I was about to give up, I heard a loud cheer over the rest of the crowd. It only took me a second to find the overzealous fan.

She was in the front row above the dugout. Evelyn was standing up, clapping and cheering as loud as she could. Then my eyes landed on Austin; she was standing next to her mother with a huge smile on her face, gesturing for me to break the bat.

Austin was a violent little thing.

She couldn't have been more perfect for me if she tried.

I hadn't realized until I received it—Evelyn's support. Having a maternal figure in the crowd cheering her heart out for me, I couldn't even describe how fucking good it felt. It was nothing like the fans, and nothing like what I'd received from my own mother.

Evelyn's support was ferocious and loud. It was as if she was supporting my success, not the game, but me personally. She had my back, just like Austin did.

My chest was swollen with pride and profound gratefulness for the rest of the game.

 

****

 

Exiting the locker room without a word, I headed out of the stadium. As I approached the gate, I easily found them in the sea of fans. My full attention was immediately on Austin, my gaze slowly raking over her. 

Her gray, deep V-neck tee teased me with what lie beneath. Hips and thighs that I wanted to be buried in were hugged tight in her black jeans. Those black boots were my favorite, a feminine version of mine.

But what struck me most, she was wearing a black Dodgers hat—one she hadn't owned a few weeks before. 

My girl looked sexy as hell.

“You were amazing!” Evelyn gushed as I exited through the gate. She gave me a hard hug, and I felt that swell of pride again. 

Soon as Evelyn let go, Austin jumped up, wrapping herself around me. The stark relief I felt at having her with me, on me... I hadn't truly understood how much I missed her. My arms closed around her, squeezing her tight. A low groan rumbled through me at the feel of her soft curves pressed against me. When her lips met mine, my hunger took over. My tongue pushed in, taking long deep pulls, tasting her, devouring her like a starving man. She moaned into my mouth and sucked my tongue, making my cock jump in approval.

“I missed you,” Austin whispered, pulling back far too soon.

“I missed you more. You have no idea,” I rasped quietly. We studied each other for a moment. Then I smirked. “I like the hat. You a fan now? Got a crush on someone?”

“I do,” she answered shyly. “But he's married.”

“Is he now?” I asked through a growing grin.

She nodded with a sexy smile on her face.

“Let's get going,” Fergus interrupted, reminding me we were not alone.

“Lead the way.” I hitched Austin up a little higher, getting a better grip on her ass and thighs, before I followed.

“You hungry?” Evelyn asked as we headed out to the car.

“Hell yes.” When Austin rested her head on my shoulder, cuddling into me, I amended, “Something we can take back to the house.”

I wanted my time with Austin, every single second.

When we climbed in the back of another Mercedes truck, Austin’s phone started going off with multiple text alerts in a row, then started ringing.

“What the fuck?” I muttered as she dug it out of her purse.

I read over her shoulder as she checked her texts.

 

Alec: Did you know we have promo shoots

this weekend? I thought you were going to

Denver?

10:49 PM

 

Jeff: Don’t forget. PROMO SHOOTS this weekend.

10:48 PM

 

Elaine: Did you forget about your promo shoots

this weekend? All day Saturday and half day

Sunday. It’s not optional.

10:48 PM

 

Elaine: You have to come back. You didn’t tell me

you were leaving for the weekend!!!!

10:49 PM

 

“Fuck,” she sighed, turning to look at me.

“No, you’re not going,” I refused.

“David, I have too.” Her voice was soft and remorseful. “I’m sorry—”

“No.” I shook my head, not willing to give up my weekend with her. “You can do it another time.”

She let out a resigned sigh. I noticed that Evelyn and Fergus were being eerily quiet. It hit me then; I wasn’t winning this particular argument.

“I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.” Her words were soft, but they landed like a hammer.

This was what I’d been afraid of. What I’d been dreading. Her career was taking her away from me. I was losing her. Even if it was just for the weekend, she was choosing her career over me. Again.

I watched as she quickly responded to their texts.

After she was done, I asked, “When are you leaving?”

“In the morning, at nine.” Her voice was soft and apologetic.

My disappointment was palpable in the truck.

“Angel,” Austin whispered, pressing her breasts into my bicep as she leaned into me. Her calling me that wasn’t fair, in that moment it felt cruel. “Please don’t be mad.”

My gaze cut to her, taking her in.

“We’ve got tonight, babe,” she implored with a straight face.

I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

“You know that’s a Bob Seger song, right?” I checked, skeptically.

“Really?” she asked innocently. “Does it apply?”

I still couldn’t tell if she was fucking with me. 

“Please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad,” she begged in a soft, hurried cadence, as she crawled into my lap, clinging to my shoulders as she awkwardly straddled my spread thighs. Our faces were level, and only inches apart as she whispered, “I need your cock so bad. You’re gonna give it me right? You’re gonna give it to me.” Her rushed words were cute and sexy and amusing as hell, as she held my gaze with wide hopeful eyes.

“Yeah,” I laughed softly, running my hands up her thighs, and over her ass. “I’m gonna give it to you.”

I would have given her anything she wanted, but nothing was going to keep her in Denver with me.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Austin

 

 

I heard the door open, then the distinct sound of David's heavy boots. I turned, looking over my shoulder at him, surprised to see him standing there.

We’d only spoken twice since I left him with my mom in Denver. But we’d texted several times. I knew he was still mad about the mix-up. About me leaving.

“Austin!” he called before he met my eyes. "Oh shit. Sorry. I didn't realize anybody was gonna be here.”

“Very funny.”

He stopped short, halfway between the kitchen and the living area. I watch as his expression slowly shifted from confusion to anger.

“What the fuck, Austin! What the fuck did you do to yourself?”

I expected him to be surprised. I didn't expect him to be angry.

“David—”

“I don't see you for two fucking days and this is what happens? You have pink fucking hair?”

It hadn’t been two full days, it’d been a day and a half.

Before I could respond, he continued, "We're getting this fixed today."

He dug his phone out of his back pocket as he approached me.

“Why are you so mad?” I asked, genuinely confused. “I think it’s fun.”

“Goddamn it. I knew this was gonna fucking happen. I don't want this fucking town to change you. And it already is! You look like a goddamn popstar who’s trying too hard.”

He reached out, grabbing a strand of my hair. Or what he thought was my hair.

“Your hair feels like shit now!”

“It's fucking extensions, David! Calm down! I can't believe you’re reacting like this.” I sat up on my knees, facing him the best I could as he towered over me.

“It's not your hair?” he asked, suspiciously.

“No, but—”

“Then take the shit out,” he demanded.

“David, stop it! Would you fucking listen to me for two seconds?”

Before I could start, he continued, “Why did you want pink hair?”

“David,” I scolded at his inability to let me speak.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

“After the shoot...” My gaze drifted up, searching for words. I finally settled on the embarrassing truth. “I was nervous, I guess, and I just... started babbling. And I mentioned that the hair extensions the stylist had in his bag were really cool. Next thing I know, he's putting them in my hair, and I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to be rude.”

At my explanation, he visibly relaxed.

“And now he wants you to do something for him,” David finished knowingly, staring down at me with an expectant look. “So what does he want?”

I refrained from wringing my hands, but my voice still came out small and hesitant. “Two public appearances with me wearing them.”

His expression shifted to somewhere between annoyed and resigned. “Have you had any yet?”

“Alec and I went out to lunch after, so just one.”

I watched as David’s gaze darted up to the ceiling and blew out a harsh breath. “Fine. Get dressed. We’re going out to dinner. Sooner you get that pink shit outta your hair, the happier I'll be.”

I was still shocked at his anger.

He turned to walk away, but stopped short, looking at me. “I don't want you changing. I'm not gonna let Hollywood change you. I want you! Not some mutated, twisted version Hollywood turns people into.”

“I won't change, David.”

“You already have, Austin.”

“What?”

“You lost eight pounds?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You didn't need to lose it. I didn't even fucking recognize you when I walked in, Austin! I didn't recognize my own fucking wife!”

I could understand where he was coming from. But it still seemed like a serious overreaction.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't fucking change on me, Austin. Being apart is hard enough. I can't deal with coming home and not even recognizing my own wife.”

“I'm sorry. I—”

“Stop apologizing to me.” His voice was low and rough with his barely restrained fury. “Just get dressed so we can get this over with.”

He turned away then, heading down the hall toward our bedroom. I got up from the couch and quietly followed him.

Standing in the closet doorway, I watched him roughly empty out his suitcase. Then he turned, looking at me.

“I don't want Hollywood to change you. And I know it's hard not to let it—”

“David,” I cut him off, “I'll always be me with you.”

“Yeah,” he paused. “What about when you're not with me?”

“David.” I hesitated, not sure what to say. “I don't want you to change either.”

“Good, then we agree on something. And I'm not gonna change. I was living this way before I met you. The only thing that's been able to change me in the past twelve years is you. I know I'm not gonna change.”

He turned away, grabbing some clothes, and went to the bathroom, leaving me standing there speechless. Did he honestly think I was going to change, that my personality was going to change, that my feelings would change?

I sat on the bed thinking about his words and his reaction. Next thing I knew, he was looming over me, watching me.

Eventually, he said, “This is my own fault.” He sounded resigned and disappointed. “I got you comfortable letting other men touch you... How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing my wife couldn't bear to let other men touch her, now she’s doing it every day at work?”

“David, it's not easy.”

“Bullshit. Elaine sent me shots from the shoot. You and Alec were all over each other, damn near naked, looking comfortable as can be.”

That’s what his anger was really about, me spending the weekend in LA with Alec.

“It’s only easy with him.” My eyes pleading with him to see the truth.

He watched me for a long moment, his jaw clenching. He turned away, grabbing his boots and a pair of socks from the closet, and muttered, “Get dressed. I'm tired of seeing that shit in your hair.”

At his harsh words, I silently went into the closet, quickly dressing in leggings, a tank, a Rails shirt, and my boots, not bothering to even glance in the mirror. Grabbing my purse, I turned to tell him I was ready to go, but before I could say a word, he said, “Wash your face too. I don't wanna see you like that.”

I quickly obeyed, going to the bathroom and grabbing some tissue. I paused, looking at myself in the mirror. I finally understood what he was talking about.

I didn't look like me.

At all.

I couldn’t help but wonder if my altered appearance made him feel the same way I felt whenever I saw The David.

Carefully, I wiped away the contouring and overly defined lip liner, replacing it with my own lipstick. When I turned around, he was leaning in the doorway, muscled arms crossed over his defined chest, watching me with a predatory gaze.

“Much better,” he rasped. “Can actually see my sexy wife now.”

I walked over to him, looking up at him from under my eyelashes.

“I'm not gonna change, David. It's just makeup and extensions.”

He made a growling sound in his throat and said, “Freaked me out when I walked in. Could've warned me.”

“Well, I would've, but I wasn't expecting you until morning.”

“Do you actually think I'm gonna wait till morning,” he asked as he gripped my ass tight, squeezing, “when I have this at home waiting on me?”

I pressed my face into his chest, breathing him in, and smiled. Then I realized my fingers were digging into his sides, squeezing.

“Looks like you missed me too,” he growled.

I gave him a small nod but didn't say anything.

“Let's go do this so we can take those things out of your hair,” he said as he pulled away.

“Oh, come on. We could role play. You could pretend like I was someone else. We can pretend like were strangers cheating on our spouses.”

He stopped short, giving me a hard look over his shoulder. “Can't imagine anything that would turn me on less.”

I quickly realized my faux pas and kept my mouth shut, knowing sorry wouldn't be what he wanted to hear either.

Trying another tactic, I reminded him, “Hey, you promised me sex tapes.”

He turned, looking at me. Studying me.

“I need them,” I pleaded sweetly. Innocently.

“Well, I'm home for seven days.” His voice was low and smooth and sexy as hell, and a devilish smirk formed on his chiseled face. “So I think we can work something out.”  

 

 

****

 

 

Seven weeks passed by, each one worse than the last. Not seeing David every day wasn't hard, it was miserable. I hadn't realized how much it would affect me. I was getting depressed.

It had been the same old, same old, except I was no longer traveling to meet him. In fact, Denver was the last time I had. I didn’t go to his games anymore, or even watch them on TV—it was too painful.

Even when he was home, it didn’t matter. It felt like we were letting go of each other. It was little things, like David not asking any questions when Alec and I went to a movie premiere, or the nights we spent at the Chateau—though David had reserved the penthouse for me, he was never concerned with what I did while I was there. It was like his possessiveness and jealousy had just disappeared. I was lying on the sofa in my trailer, Chance stretched out next to me, when my phone rang.

“Sweet girl,” David purred when I answered. 

I wasn’t expecting a call from him for at least five more hours. “What happened to your game?”

I hated to admit it, but I’d started dreading our calls. And I couldn’t seem to shake that nasty, niggling thought in my mind.

I’m not there. I don’t really know what he’s doing.

The David could have any woman he wanted—if all the videos of his fawning fans were accurate. 

I’d been trying to keep myself busy with work, which was fairly easy, doing anything to keep me from obsessing over what he was doing.

David was right. My character cheated on her man. A lot. They weren’t explicit scenes—my body double was doing those—but two men, that were not Alec or David, had kissed my neck and chest in the past week. I could still feel them on me. It felt disgusting. I needed David, needed his rough touch to erase theirs, needed him to own me, to make me feel safe. Wanted. Loved.  

“We had an afternoon game today.” From his tone, I had a feeling I was supposed to know that. Or he’d already told me that.

“Cool.”

“Been calling... still on set?” he checked.

“Yeah, in my trailer now, and for the next hour or so. They’re setting up another scene.”

“Really?” he purred suggestively.

“Yep,” I responded efficiently.

I knew what he wanted, but I just wasn’t feeling it anymore. The sex tapes hadn’t had the effect I’d imagined, they just made me miss him more. And the phone calls were depressing. FaceTime fucking, phone sex... it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t get myself off anymore; the only orgasms I had were the ones David gave me. And he was hardly ever around.

“Want me to FaceTime you?” His voice was low, as if he was telling me a secret in a crowded room.

“No.” My voice was soft, exhausted. “I just want to relax. Take a nap with Chance, if I can.”

“Okay?” He sounded equally stunned, confused, and hurt. “Did you get the Louis Vuitton luggage set?”

“Yeah, they’re amazing. Thank you.”

The luggage was beautiful, but too much. The style was discontinued, and the set delivered was clearly new.

Custom order...

Gifts had been coming everyday he was away, for the past three weeks. It was excessive and ridiculous. And I was starting to resent them, because I didn't need gifts. I needed him. His possessiveness. His aggression.

Without it, I felt unwanted.

I didn't need him twenty-four seven, but I did need him every day.

“I’ll talk to you later, have a good flight.” I tried for sweet and happy, but failed miserably.

“Uh... Kay?”

He sounded like he wanted to say something else, but I hung up before he could. I had successfully avoided having any real conversations with him for the past couple weeks; I didn’t want to breakdown on him, put more stress on him. He had enough stress as it was. His job was taxing, physically and mentally, far beyond anything I had imagined. I didn’t want my issues to drag him down.

 

 

 

 

David

 

 

 

It was pure fucking torture. I never should've agreed to it. Letting her stay in LA while I traveled. Letting her work with Elaine. Giving her what she wanted, instead of what she needed. I fucking knew better, but I hadn’t wanted to take away her life-long dream. Now I was afraid I was losing mine because of it.

“Mr. Taylor, we’ll be in Burbank in just around three hours,” Dennis greeted me as I boarded the plane. He had become our regular pilot. He had an impeccable safety record and never leered at Austin—per Fergus. As long as those two things remained true, he would remain our pilot.

“Thanks.”

Dennis had quickly discovered when I was flying to see Austin, I didn’t want pleasantries, I wanted to get there as quickly as possible.

Taking my seat—the same seat I took every time—I turned my head, feigning looking out at the Tarmac, and breathed deep. Austin’s scent still lingered in that seat, as if she had fallen asleep with wet hair and freshly applied perfume. Or maybe she had gotten her products on it that time she got ready on the plane, excited to see me and wanting to look her best. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

 I understood why she didn’t want to come to me anymore. She was just coming out and crashing in my hotel room until I woke her up to fuck her after my game.

Though, sometimes I didn’t bother waking her up.  

Fuck, I love that girl.

I’d waited my whole life for her.

Someone who needed me. Someone who understood me. Someone I could take care of. Someone who’d be mine.

Absolutely, completely mine.

But lately it didn’t feel that way.  

Austin had been withdrawing a little more each day. Ever since we made the sex tapes, she had changed, and not in the way I had expected. She stopped asking me about my day, how I was, telling me she missed me. And she would get off the phone before I could ask her anything.

I had so many questions: How were the sessions with Vaughn? How was she handling the scenes at work?

Yes, I knew everything she did all day—courtesy of Fergus—and it was slowly killing me, if the crippling pain in my chest was any indication.

And I couldn’t stop replaying our last real conversation from weeks before,

“You could have a girl lying next to you right now. You could've told her to be quiet while you called your wife.”

As much as the thought sickened me, it was true. And the way she turned me down flat for phone sex...

Rejection stung like a bitch.

I couldn’t help but worry her destructive coping mechanism had kicked in. Two different men had their lips on her while filming the current episode, and even though I knew, had prepared myself for it, I still had the cold knot in my stomach from when Fergus confirmed it. What bothered me most was that Austin hadn’t told me. Hadn’t said a thing.

If we lived anywhere else, I wouldn't have worried so much. But we didn't. We lived in a town full of men and women looking for their next trophy, conquest... or just to trade up.

I didn't think Austin was, but I also knew I wasn't giving her what she needed. I could tell from her voice, the time and distance was hurting her. I didn’t want to admit it, but Austin had been right. From that first day, when I left for training camp, she’d known. Known we couldn’t handle the separation, knew it would be too much.

The whole fucking situation was my fault, but I’d come up with a plan to fix it. I just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Reaching across, I grabbed her blanket off the adjacent seat. I’d stolen it from her trailer last time I was there; it held a faint hint of her natural smell. What could I say? I was an addict and I needed my fix. Burying my nose in it, I took a deep breath. Something inside me released, the tension easing. Reclining my seat back, I kept the blanket close to my face and tried to sleep.

But my mind wouldn't stop conjuring up different scenarios.

Was there someone else?

Someone she worked with?

Fergus?

Unable to help myself, I called Alec.

 

 

*****

 

 

Quietly, I slipped into the house, making my way to our room. When I pushed our bedroom door open, relief washed through me.

She was alone.

I hadn't realized until that moment that I thought she might not be. Apparently, Alec’s words hadn’t been as comforting as I thought.

Setting my bag down, I kicked off my boots, pulling off my shirt as I made my way over to the bed. Soon as I was free of my jeans, I crawled in behind her.

She was curled up on her side, facing the window, wearing nothing but a bra. The faint moonlight gave her an ethereal glow.

I hesitated, fearing rejection again, before shoving it aside, spooning around her, burying my nose in her hair. She smelled warm and sweet and... she smelled like home. After talking to Alec, all I wanted was to hold her, pull her into me and never let go.

It was my fault she was hurting. My need to protect her. From me. From my irrational instincts. It was hurting her. But it was the only way I knew how to keep her.

She shifted then, snugging her sweet ass against my hips, nestling my length between her cheeks, molding our bodies together as she settled into me with a sigh. My cock hardened, and an aching need pounded through me.

Hold her? Yeah, I was going to hold her. Hold her while I buried my cock in her hot little body.

Goddamn, she made me crazy. Everything about her was so right.

My hand moved up her thigh, groping and squeezing along the way, over her hip, and across her stomach, cataloging all those curves I’d missed. My fingers tucked inside her bra and I paused, remembering Alec’s words,

“She seems depressed.”

Fuck, I knew how to fix that.

Yanking the cup down, I palmed her bare breast, kneading roughly. I pinched her nipple and watched as she arched into the cruel touch, small, needy noises spilling from her lips.

This was what happened every time I tried to be sweet. She reacted violently to me, to my presence, to my touch—even in her sleep—turning my innocent desire into an animal need. And goddamn it, I was weak.

I played with her breast until her hips wiggled, pressing into me. Without even checking, I knew she was wet. Unable to resist, I pushed my cock down, letting it rest against her sex. I held my breath and gripped her hips, waiting for what came next.

She did the same thing every time, and it only took a second. Her hips rocked, instinctively sliding along my length, massaging her clit with the ridge of my crown.

My breath left me in a rush as fresh arousal coursed through me.

I’d never known a girl that fucked in her sleep. It was sexy as hell. Knowing subconsciously she wanted me, even when everything else between us felt like it was going to hell. I needed it more than ever in that moment.

I had seriously fucked myself over. It had been a gradual thing, a progression of events. I went from living out my dream to living in a fucking nightmare. I was tired of hurting her, tired of being away from her. Tired of using Fergus as a surrogate to my life. 

She slid forward a little too far and I couldn’t take it anymore. Angling my hips, I pushed in, letting her sweet cunt suckle the head. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, waiting for her to take over.

That’s all I’d been thinking about for the past two days; getting inside her, getting fucked by her. It was sick how much I fantasized about Austin. The things I wanted to do to her. Lately, one thing had dominated my fantasies, knocking her up, and putting the brakes on her career. Just thinking about it had my dick throbbing inside her.

Suddenly, she gasped, arching, her head pressing against my shoulder. Her hand gripped my thigh, pulling as her hips pushed back, taking me in with slow, deep strokes.

“I hope this is okay,” I murmured against her neck. My lips trailed over her pulse, chased by my tongue, feeling its strong beat.

“Touch me... fuck me... make me come,” she panted, through her labored breaths.

“Yes, ma'am,” I growled. Holding her hips still, I took over, pushing into her. Again and again.

 

 

 

Austin

 

 

Rubbing my hands over my legging clad thighs, I took a deep breath.

I could do this. I had to.

As soon as I had arrived on set, Alec had dragged me into my trailer. David had called him the previous night, asking about Fergus’ relationship with me. And my relationship with the other men on set. David thought I was having an affair. At least he was worried I was.

After a cliff-notes version of the past few weeks, Alec had convinced me, “David won’t think less of you.”

I didn't know if that was true or not, but I was about to find out.

“Austin,” Dr. Vaughn prompted again.

I stood, adjusting my oversized gray V-neck tee, and entered his office, David right behind me. I had called David from set, after my one and only scene for the day, and asked him to meet me at Vaughn’s. I had expected a fight or questions, but I received none. And from the blue Dodgers ball cap snugged down backward on his head, the black sleeveless Under Armour shirt hugging across his pecs, and the gray athlete shorts and sneakers, he had been at practice.

I watched as David sat down in the same spot as before, legs spread wide. But this time he was alert and focused, no attitude at all.

“Austin, do you want to sit?” Dr. Vaughn asked. I realized then, I was pacing the length of the room.

Mimicking David, I took my same spot as before, at the opposite end of the couch.

“You said this was an emergency,” Dr. Vaughn started.

Leaning forward, my elbow’s on my knees, I blocked David out of my periphery. “I need to tell David some things, but if I look at him, I’ll chicken out.”

Dr. Vaughn looked at David then back to me. “Okay, do you want to just tell me?” 

With my heart in my throat, I answered, “Yes.”

Vaughn waited, watching me. But I couldn’t find the words. That was until I felt David's eyes on me, my skin burning under the scrutiny. All the emotions I’d been denying came bubbling up. 

“I hate him.” The venom in my voice shocked me. “The David.”

Dr. Vaughn's eyebrows pulled together, not understanding, but I didn’t care. He didn’t need to understand.

“He let’s his fans crawl all over him when I’m not around. I need my David, I need him. And he left me, like I’m nothing.” My lip trembled and I paused. “I’m only happy at work when he’s with me. I know it’s fucked up, I know it’s wrong.” My eyes and sinuses stung as I let it all out. “But I need him.”

“You didn’t the past week, strangers lips all over you,” he grumbled.

“It was disgusting!” I yelled, holding Dr. Vaughn’s gaze. He was so impassive to what felt like a bomb detonating inside me. “He doesn’t care! I could let the whole fucking crew run a train on me and he wouldn’t give a shit!” I flung my arm out in David’s direction, quickly losing my temper.

“Try it, and find out what happens,” David growled from his spot on the couch, the threat was unmistakable. 

I turned on him then. “Where has that been the last two months? You act like I’m nothing to you!”

His expression shifted, looking contrite as his eyes darted to the floor. His hand came up, covering his face as his fingers rubbed over his forehead, almost as if he was hiding from me.

I stared at his Austin tattoo waiting for a response. It felt like minutes, but it was probably only a few seconds, before he dropped his hand, meeting my questioning gaze.

“I just...” He was searching for words, which meant he was downplaying the truth. “Pulled back to give you some space, let you do the show without me interfering.”

“Why?” I demanded, standing to face him, unable to sit still any longer.

Abruptly, he pushed to his feet, facing off with me, and shouted in frustration, “Because I almost ended your career!”

Confused by his answer and outburst of anger, I breathed, “What?” 

His head canted to the side, looking ashamed, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. “When you were asleep, that night... after we took out those extensions... I called Jeff. To ask him to cancel the show... or fire you. Offer to pay for re-shoots without you.” His gaze darted to the floor. “I gave into my impulses, and I just... I’m selfish when it comes to you. The only reason it didn’t happen was because he didn’t answer.”

I was too stunned to do anything but stare at him.

He looked at me from under his brows. “When he finally called back, I’d had time to think, realized I’d destroy our relationship in the process. So I pulled back, so I wouldn’t do it again.”

Which really meant, he pulled back because he knew he would do it again. I couldn’t believe how wrong I’d been.

“You want me to quit the show?” I asked, dumbstruck by the revelation.

“No,” his voice was soft. “I just don’t like you having this whole life without me. I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread, begging for scraps you don’t have to give.”

With tear stung eyes, I swallowed thickly. “That’s exactly how I feel. You have this whole life I don’t even know, and I feel like you don’t have room for me in your life anymore.”

“No way. Not even close.” He paused. “You’re my whole fucking world. You own me, I’m yours. You want me to quit, I will.” His voice was so sincere and gentle.

If he had asked me a couple of hours earlier, I would have given him a resounding yes. But now...

I shook my head, and managed, “No, it’s only two more years, we can deal.”

“You want the money,” he stated with a smirk.

“Yeah,” I lied. I wouldn’t be the one to take away his career, no matter how much I wanted to. “But can you just—”

“Pull back on The David stuff?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Just keep your face and ass away from those overeager girls,” I admitted, embarrassed.

“Wonderin’ if I was ever gonna get a reaction on that,” he muttered, part cocky, part bewildered. “And that only happened once.”

Our gazes locked, both of us searching for answers. It only took a second for me to find what I was looking for.

He was my David. Had been every minute of every day. Wanting a reaction, wanting me to be possessive, and trying to protect me, even from himself... And fucking duh, Zach and Dawn were not problems anymore. Fergus had been watching me the whole time, spending all day and every night with me. Relaying everything I did back to David. How else had he known “strangers lips all over you”?

The fact I hadn’t put any of that together before... There had been so many signs that I had missed. 

We had so many issues to work out.

But the look he gave me pulled at something deep inside me. That look was possessive, pleading and heated. Before I knew what I was doing, I had closed the distance between us, jumping into his strong arms.

My arms wound around his neck as my legs wrapped around his hard body. “Just tell me the fucking truth from now on,” I complained as our lips met.

“Same goes for you,” he countered, between urgent kisses. His hands under my ass, holding me up,  squeezing. “Ugly. Fucking. Truth.”

“Would you two like to sit and discuss how these issues developed?” Dr. Vaughn tried to interrupt.

I’d momentarily forgotten about him.

Pulling my mouth from David’s, I answered, “No, thank you so much.” David was already moving us out of his office.

In that moment, I knew we had hit a pivotal point in our relationship. Screaming at each other in front of Dr. Vaughn... At the very least, we’d reached celebrity couple status.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

 

 

David

 

I felt a sharp jolt of arousal shoot through me. Fierce and intense. My breathing turned labored as the stimulation grew, quickly turning into a mindless animal need.

Gradually, sleep faded and everything started to become clear. I felt the small hands wrapped around my cock and the silky hair brushing my hip. I'd know those hands anywhere; Austin was working my length, getting me impossibly hard.

A heavy sigh escaped me and my insides heated,  pure male satisfaction pouring through me.

Best fucking way to wake up.

I’d been home the past seven days and she hadn’t done anything like this, so I knew something was going on with her. We had worked through some of our issues since seeing Vaughn, but we still had a long way to go. Maybe it was just her way of saying goodbye since I was leaving for New York in a few short hours.

I felt her breath on my cockhead a second before her tongue lapped over my slit. Licking once, twice, before pulling the head into her mouth, hot and wet, tonguing and sucking.

Oh fuck.

My greedy girl wanted more.

She always said she loved the way I tasted; now I knew just how true that was as she sucked rhythmically, determinedly, milking my cock.

My muscles trembled as my body obeyed, giving her a hot burst of precum.

A satisfied purr vibrated in her throat, making my balls draw up tight. I wanted to thrust up, fill her mouth, , hear those sweet little gagging noises spilling from her throat. As if reading my mind, she took me deeper, her tongue tracing along my shaft as she lowered, taking more of my length.

Our new motto was uncensored truth. I couldn’t help but wonder how she would take my uncensored truth at that moment. I wanted to grab her head and shove it down, force my dick into her throat.

Knowing her, she wouldn’t mind. Just like she hadn’t seemed to be bothered by all the other truth’s I’d been tossing out every morning before she went to work. And there were a lot. All day. But she took them in stride, then did what she wanted anyway. It was something I was trying to adjust to—not having a say in her career.   

Her teeth grazed over the sensitive head, and a shiver ran through me. She sucked my cock like a lollipop, with lips, tongue, and teeth. Never trying to mimic her cunt, she always let me know I was fucking that sweet little mouth. She licked the head like she couldn't get enough, like it was her favorite treat.

When I felt her squirm and knew she was wet. 

Wet from sucking my dick. 

Fuck, I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to feign sleeping. I wanted to touch her so fucking bad I couldn't think straight. I needed to run my fingers through her hair, encouraging her to take more, or pull her up and slam my cock into her tight little cunt.

After a long, torturous minute, she pulled back, moving, straddling me.

I could tell from her movements, she thought I was asleep and had every intention of me staying that way.

Oh shit...

The thought of her wanting to use me like that, taking whatever she wanted from me, from my body...

A flash of weakness shot through me.

With practiced ease, she grabbed my dick, positioning it at her opening. She was so wet and swollen, there was no resistance just a nice tight squeeze as she slowly sank down. Then she adjusted her thighs, working me deeper. A low groan bubbled up out of her as she took all of me, holding there a minute, letting my cock throb and twitch deep inside her. 

Oh fuck, that's hot.

As I lay there motionless, her scorching heat pulsing around my length, I felt owned.

Utterly and completely owned.

Instantly, I understood why she loved when I violated her sleeping form, fucking her awake. It was the ultimate sign of ownership, being used like this.

She braced a hand on my chest and started moving, riding me. Fucking me. Her pussy squelching with each measured thrust.

Finally opening my eyes, I took her in. She was gorgeous. Her eyes were closed, her lower lip tucked between her teeth, her long dark hair cascading all around her as she rode me, body undulating, hips rocking, slowly moving faster. 

I forced myself to relax, to not respond, but the look on her face and the way she moved...

Fuck.

I blew out a harsh breath, straining not to thrust up, and her eyes flew open, meeting mine.

Despite her shocked expression, her hips worked faster, fucking me with determination. Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted. That look...  It said, Yeah, I'm fucking you. What are you gonna do about it? 

“Hello,” I rasped slowly, my voice rough from sleep. “Fuck, girl, what's got you so worked up?”

My hands smoothed over her hips, up to her narrow waist and back, encouraging her.

“I had a dream,” she panted, her hips thrusting faster, the rhythm turning desperate. Frenzied. “I tied you to a chair, naked. Using you... to make me come... whenever I wanted.”

My cock jumped at the idea, eager to do just that.

“Fuck, that's hot.” I groaned. “We can do that if you want. Any time you want,” I swore.

I loved that.

Whether she knew it or not, dreaming about tying me up was her subconscious desire to make me stay, to keep me with her. She didn’t want me to leave.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

Gently, I gripped the back of her neck, pulling her flush against me. My other hand pressed her hips down as she worked her cunt and clit on me.

“Come on me,” I urged, my lips ghosting over her forehead. “Come all over me.”

Her hips moved faster, then turned choppy as her body shook against me.

“Fuck yeah, yes, yes, fuck yes,” she cried breathlessly.

“Yeah, there you go.” Her pussy clamped down on me like a vise, pulling, squeezing. Perverse satisfaction coursed through me. “Feel free to use me like that whenever you want.”

“I'm not done,” she whispered through her racing breaths.

Thank fuck!

 

 

*****

 

 

Several hours later, I was sitting in the locker room at Yankee Stadium, googling Austin and Alec's affair.

As I looked at the pics of them, I couldn't help but smile. Austin had her hand up to block the flash, making her Mrs. Taylor tattoo the focus of the photo.

Warmth bloomed in my chest as I stared at it.

 

David: I love the fuck outta you, Mrs. Taylor!

5:03 PM

 

Austin: I love the fuck outta you, Mr. Taylor!!

Break a bat for me!

5:04 PM

 

I couldn't help myself, I had to hear her voice.

 

 

 

Austin

 

 

“What’re you doing?” David's deep voice rumbled.

“I'm boarding the plane, coming to see you,” I answered through a growing grin.

He’d left for the airport right after my eighth orgasm. He hadn’t even bothered to shower, saying “I like smelling you on me”.

“Really?” He sounded doubtful, but hopeful.

“Yep, couldn't keep me away if you tried.”

When I arrived on set that morning, Alec had pulled me into my trailer, asking “What’s wrong?”

I hadn’t known what he was talking about. But it hadn’t taken him long to explain it to me. Apparently, I looked as if I’d returned to my “zombie state”.

“You need him, you’re better with him, it’s like night and day,” Alec had explained.

After convincing me it wasn’t only in my best interest, but in the shows and everyone working on it, we had rearranged our schedules.

“Thank fuck,” David breathed out. “I need to see you so bad.”

“Me too.”

“Sweetheart, you're gonna get there before me. I'll call ahead and make arrangements for them to give you a key to my room... You know it's times like these when it would be really helpful if you changed your driver's license to my last name,” he teased.

“I offered,” I countered.

“I know, but you have so much going on right now, didn't seem like the time to add more to the list.”

I did. It was exhausting.

“Yeah, I know, but I am going to get it done.”

And I was, as soon as I was done filming.

“Good... You see me on the fucking phone?”

David’s harsh tone was abrupt and shocking. Hesitantly, I tried to get his attention. “David?”

“Let me go ahead and call the hotel.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, my voice unsure. David was pissed off at someone, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. “But let me know when you’re done,” I added, turning into a nosy, nagging wife. 

“Love it when you get all up in my business.” His voice was a raspy purr. “And of course I’ll call, you know I will. Never leave you hanging like that. I love you. Can't wait to see you.”

“I love you more.”

“I fucking wish,” he grumbled, teasingly.

 

*****

 

As soon as I arrived at the hotel, I was greeted by the manager and taken straight to the penthouse.

When David called me back to let me know that he made arrangements for me to get a room key, he said they knew exactly who I was and that there was no need to call ahead. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that. I was finding the more I got what I wanted, the less I actually wanted it. Fame that is. It really wasn't that great.

“Miss James, would you like me to show you around the penthouse?”

“Yeah, sure.”

After showing me the three bedroom penthouse, I tried to tip him, but he refused profusely before excusing himself, leaving me alone in the massive suite.

A full kitchen, dining room, three full baths... it felt more like an apartment.

It seemed excessive for David by himself.

I took a quick shower, knowing I only had an hour before David arrived, and I wanted to meet him in the lobby.

As soon as David called, letting me know he was only minutes from the hotel, I went down to the lobby to wait for him.

When the bus pulled in front of the hotel, my heart skipped a beat, then raced. Butterflies filled my stomach as I stood, anxiously waiting, watching as the bus doors opened and men started to exit. When David finally stepped out, it took Herculean effort not to run to him.

I watched as he talked to some fans, signing autographs.

“You'll get used to it," I heard someone say from beside me. I turned, finding a familiar face. She was blonde and tall and had a distinct look. Like a well aged model. “All the fans. All the women throwing themselves at him.”

I couldn't imagine ever getting used to that, but I didn't say anything.

“You're married to David, right?” she asked.

I was still preoccupied with trying to place where I knew her from. “Yeah. I'm sorry, I recognize you, but I can't place you.”

“Oh, that's okay. I used to do a lot of fitness modeling, but I retired a couple of years ago. After I got married.”

“Oh, okay.” I didn't think that's what I recognized her from though.

“So how are you adjusting to this crazy schedule?” There was something off about her. Too eager, too... something.

“It's an adjustment,” I hedged, not feeling comfortable talking to strangers about our personal life.

“I can imagine. With your show filming now and everything, I'm surprised you're even here.”

I didn't respond immediately, feeling caught off guard with her knowing so much about us. But these were the things I was going to have to get used to. Our lives were up for public consumption, whether we liked it or not.

I gave her a small smile and focused on David.

I felt her lean in closer before she said, "At least you don't have to worry about David cheating too much. He has a low sex drive. He was always more interested in working out than having sex."

Once her words sank in, I felt sick. Hollowed out. Gutted.

“I mean, they all do, right?” she added in a voice that was sweetness thinly veiling vindictiveness. “So how long did you guys date before you got married?”

“Eight days.”

“Wow, I bet most of his groupies have spent more time with him in just the past couple of weeks than you did before you got married.”

“I seriously doubt that.” I watched David slowly making his way through the crowd, willing him to hurry the fuck up.

“While the cat's away...” she whispered in a singsong voice.

This woman was hitting every one of my insecurities, but there was no way in hell I was letting her know that.

I ignored her and focused on David, more desperate than ever to run to him, seek refuge in his arms. But I resisted.

Once he came through those lobby doors, my control slipped. Darting toward him, a small squealing noise escaped my throat. He caught me effortlessly as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. His hands gripped my ass tight and our lips met with desperation. A hungry noise rattled through his chest and into mine, causing my core to pulse as I swallowed his erotic groan.

“This is exactly what I needed,” he murmured against my lips.

I didn't respond. I just smiled, our noses brushing, our lips still touching as he started walking toward the elevator bank.

“You get our room key?” he muttered.

“Yeah, angel.” I pressed my lips to his again, and I felt his hands tightened on my ass, fingers digging in.

I heard an “oh shit” from somewhere around us, but I didn't bother to look. I couldn't tear my eyes away from David.

“Fucking missed you so much.”

“I missed you,” I murmured between pressing kisses to his lips.

His voice was stern when he said, "Press the up button.”

Before I could comment, I heard, "Already did, man."

“Thanks.”

Feeling awkward having David hold me with our current audience, I wiggled, trying to get down.

“No fucking way. You're staying right here,” David growled, squeezing my ass cheeks, pulling me closer, smashing my breasts against his chest.

“I thought Sarah's eyes were going to shoot fire. She's fucking jealous, and she didn't even try to hide it. If Dwight didn't know before, he knows now,” the guy added.

Sarah...

I knew where I recognized her from.

She was one of David's ex-girlfriends.

Oh. My. God.

“She married your teammate?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Yep, the same one she cheated on me with.” His tone was matter-of-fact, if not slightly amused.

What the fuck?

“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

His eyebrows pulled together; his expression was both confused and amused.

“Yeah.” He squinted at me. “You're not jealous? Mad?”

Was I?

Technically, he had omitted the information.

Kinda.

But I never asked...

He likes working out more than he likes sex...

Everything she had said, her attitude, it all made sense.

“No, but they're both seriously fucked up. Who does that?” Then I looked to the other guy and asked, “She's jealous? Of what?”

“She's been shamelessly flirting with David. I actually feel bad for her. It's embarrassing.”

My gaze met David's then, questioning.

“I'm not encouraging her,” David swore. “I'm not even looking at her.”

“He's not. That's why it's so embarrassing,” the guy David still hadn't bothered to introduce me to added.

“Look at us,” David added mischievously. “Of course people are going to be jealous. Everybody wants what we have. And we're are seriously fucking hot.”

His playful mood was contagious; I couldn't help but smile.

“You are.”

His eyebrows lifted, a smug smirk crossing his face. “Sweetheart, I'd have to be pretty fucking hot to get a girl like you.”

I'd never seen him so openly cocky and arrogant, but somehow it still managed to be charming.

Then he added quietly, “And we have established that it's my body that gets you past your issues. Not to mention the way you climb, scratch, and bite my muscles when we're fucking.”

“David,” I reprimanded him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

I looked over toward the guy waiting at the elevator with us, then back at David.

“Oh please. You’ve let me fuck you in a crowded club. Twice.”

My face scrunched up, and I blurted, "That’s because you make me so horny, I can’t think straight. You and your magic cock."

It took half a second for me to realize I said that out loud. When I did, I buried my face in David's neck. A soft laugh vibrated through his chest and into me as he pulled me tighter against him.

“Ahhh, I fuckin’ love you,” David murmured, amused by my words or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell which.

I heard a muttered "Jesus" from the other guy. Then he added, “No wonder I keep finding naked girls in his rooms.”

My eyes widened. “Do what?”

David’s jaw tightened as he shot a warning look to the other guy. “It was one naked girl.” Then he muttered, “The others had clothes on.”

There was definitely a technically left off his sentence. 

I tensed in his arms. “Why haven’t I heard about this before?”

David leaned in close, our noses touching, his breath warming my face as he spoke. “Because you weren’t really talking to me, and I didn’t want to add any more stress to our situation.”

“We’re not doing that anymore, right?”

“Nope,” he breathed against my lips. “It’s not your stress or mine, it’s ours.” His lips captured mine in a lush kiss before he continued, “Even if it’s ugly and hurtful, we share.”

Cupping his jaw, I brushed my lips over his, until he took over. Soft. Sweet. Comforting.

When we arrived at the penthouse, I noticed the guy from the elevator was still with us. Not only that, he was opening the door to our room.

“David?” I questioned.

“Oh, yeah. This is Daniel.” David nodded toward the man entering our room without us.

“Daniel?”

“My Fergus, while you have Fergus,” he reminded me gently.

“Oh... I thought he was your teammate.” And I thought he would be much older. This guy was somewhere between Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth; completely capable of being David's wingman, if David ever decided to be that guy.

“Nah,” he rasped as he leaned in, pressing kisses along my jaw.

“I'm lucky you have such a loyal dick.”

He pulled back, looking at me questioningly. “Why would you be lucky?”

“Two really attractive guys traveling all over the country...”

“That right there is the exact reason you got Fergus instead of Daniel. And I don’t care what you say, you are always looking for a reason to leave me. And there is no way I'm giving you one. I don't flirt. I don't look.” His tone was calm but resolute.

“Yeah, right,” I muttered sarcastically, while secretly relishing his declaration.

“All clear,” Daniel interrupted.

In that moment, I was glad Daniel was there. The conversation was making me extremely uncomfortable.

Why did I do that? Start things I didn't really want to get into, especially when it was all when, if, and maybes, and we hardly ever saw each other for more than a few hours at a time.

I couldn't believe it, but I was glad filming was almost over. I wanted to be with David. More anyway, at least five full days a week. As awesome as Alec was, he was no substitute for David.

Once we were in the penthouse suite, David looked around then asked, “Where's Fergus?”

I bit my lip, realizing what I was going to have to admit to my husband.

“He thinks I flew to your game and met you there. I convinced him to let me fly alone...” I trailed off, then added. “I left Chance with him.”

He looked at me speculatively for a moment before he asked, “You lied to Fergus?” Then a smirk slowly started forming on his face. “And you got away with it?”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t the first time I’d lied to Fergus, but I wasn’t about to remind David of that.

“Well... Admittedly, it's adorable, but your safety is really important to me. So from that perspective—don't you ever fucking do it again. You get me?”

I felt like a child being scolded and being held by him only added to it. “Yes, I get you. I won't do it again.”

“Good. Now—” He shifted to playful, tossing me up a bit to adjust his grip. “—why didn't you want Fergus here? You plannin’ on taking advantage of me?” he teased.

Feigning coy, I bit my lip, and looked at him from under my eyelashes. “I was kinda hoping you could violate me in every way imaginable, if you're not otherwise occupied.”

“Even if I was, I'd cancel it. Violating you is my favorite thing to do.”

 

 

 

****

 

 

The next morning I woke up alone and sore in all the right places. The things we had done...

Oh man, was I glad we had three bedrooms, one separating ours from Daniels. Turned out, David hadn’t requested the penthouse. When he called they had given his room to someone else, so he was upgraded. He normally only had a two bedroom suite.

Rolling over, I luxuriated in the soft sheets and warm spot David left behind. I didn’t know how I was going to go back to our schedules on Monday. Just the thought had me burrowing in deeper, burying my nose in his pillow.

I was almost back to sleep when the bedroom door opened, revealing David in nothing but his jeans, unbuttoned and barely hanging on his hips.

“That didn’t take long,” he rumbled through an amused grin.  

“Where were you?”

“Brutal truth?” he checked skeptically.

When I nodded, his eyebrows pulled together, eyes squinting, as if he thought I would yell at him. “There was a drug dealer and a prostitute at the door.”

“What?” I squawked. “How, why?”

“It happens sometimes, they probably have an arrangement with an employee, someone who let’s them know when there’s a guest that might be receptive to their services.”

This was why I had a strict no athletes or rock stars rule, their life on the road was too similar. That niggling insecurity reared it’s ugly head again; I still didn’t know The David, didn’t know what he was capable of.

Cautiously, I asked, “What did you say?”

He pinned me with an annoyed look, one that said, Are you fucking serious?

“I told ‘em I’m good... Get dressed, I’m gonna make us some breakfast.”

When I pulled the covers back revealing my nude form he added, “I mean it, Austin. Bra, baggy shirt, pants. Daniel’s here, I want you covered.”

“Okay,” I agreed slipping into the bathroom as he exited the bedroom.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face then started rummaging through my bags, looking for clothes. 

I grabbed a bra and a pair of leggings; I hadn’t packed anything baggy. Opening David’s bag, I grabbed his gray hoodie, when something white peeking out from one of the interior pockets caught my attention. Whether it was the unsettling realities of his life on the road, or just plain nosiness, I pulled it out.

It was an envelope.

An opened envelope that David was trying to hide.

My suspicions died abruptly when I spotted the Dodgers logo on it. I paused half a second before pulling the paper out, thinking it was an invite to something David had failed to mention to me.

But as I unfolded the letter, what I read shocked me.

 

Mr. David Taylor,

Please consider this your third notice.

The misconduct you have exhibited this season cannot continue. Physical altercations with your team mates on or off the field are not acceptable.

Mr. Noah Wright and Mr. Jason Cole have declined seeking retribution, and since these incidents are a first in your career with the Dodgers organization and no reports of the altercations have gone public, there will not be a suspension or fines at this time. Nor has Major League Baseball been notified of these transgressions. Please be aware management may change their decision on any of these matters at a later time.

Furthermore, while it is not required for you to travel with the team, per your contract, it is strongly encouraged. We believe it would be beneficial for you to build better relationships with the aforementioned team mates.

Please take this into serious consideration.

 

 

My gaze drifted up as those words rolled around in my head.

Travel with the team...  

Fuck me.

He wasn't supposed to have come home on away game nights. No matter how close to home he was, he was supposed to stay with the team.

I pulled on the hoodie, zipping it up. Then, with the letter in hand, I headed to the kitchen.

He was standing at the little kitchen island, plating our breakfasts. Alone. Which was perfect. I didn’t want an audience for the impending discussion.  

As I neared him, he looked up, his gaze raking over me. He grinned in approval. 

It was a little disturbing how cool and calm he was, as if he had never received the letter. Not a care in the world.

He set the plates next to the waiting coffees, one setting for me, one for him. Seemed Daniel wasn’t invited for breakfast, which bothered me for some reason. David came around the island, gripping my hip, urging me to sit down when he did.  

“What is going on? You’re fighting with Noah?” I asked, placing the paper between our plates.

His eyes closed, and he let out a rough breath. “Shit,” he muttered. His gaze met mine. “Yeah, a couple weeks ago.”

Taking my seat, I held his gaze, lifting my eyebrows, asking for an explanation. 

Resignedly, he obliged, “We were on the Dodgers’ jet, I was sitting in the back, watching one of our videos.” He gestured between us, indicating me and him as our. “And I caught him standing in the galley behind me, trying to see... I reached up and slammed his head against the partition thing.”

“David,” I reprimanded softly.

“He fucking deserves it,” David defended fiercely, turning to face me, a forearm braced on the island, the other on the back of his chair, making him look bigger and intimidating as hell—to anyone else. “He released my texts, and he saw the ones from you. That fucker had it coming.”

I couldn't deny that. Noah definitely had it coming.

“It says third notice.”

He huffed a breath, reminding me of a petulant teen. “I grabbed a rookie by the throat at the beginning of the season, in Denver, same shit. He was trying to look at my phone, the second was Noah, third was last night when I was talking to you.” He nodded toward the letter. “Fucking thing was in my locker after the game.”

We watched each other, him looking for acceptance, me trying to understand. 

“I make you like this, don’t I?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer. “It said this is a first, like this aggression is unusual for you.”

His eyes slid away and he sighed. Not annoyed, more like he was trying to find a way to soften the blow. When his eyes met mine again, I knew he’d chosen not too. 

“Yes, you make me like this. Because your mine, and I’m not sharing. Both of those guys were trying to look at nude pics of you on my phone. Noah did. They won’t be doing it again.”

Reaching for his hand on the island, holding it between mine, I explained, “I am yours, but I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

“Let me worry about it.” He leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to my forehead.

I stilled. Something about the way he said it...

Pulling back from him, my eyes narrowed as I studied him. “You’re trying to get fired,” I accused softly, stunned by the realization.

His jaw clenched once as his eyebrows pulled together, but he said nothing.

David had restraint—more than I did. The fact that he hadn’t beat the shit out of Ryan when he had the chance was proof of that.

Finally he murmured, “I wanna be with you, and you want the money...”

Oh. My. God.

What had I done.

My grip on his hand loosened, but his tightened.

“We need the money,” he corrected, taking in my horrified expression.

Maybe we did need the money, a safety net, but I couldn’t let him get fired. Or worse banned from the league all together. And I was fairly certain that’s what would eventually happen if he kept assaulting his teammates. He was going to ruin his carefully cultivated image and damage his brand.

“Hey,” he interrupted my planning. His voice hesitant. “Eat. I scheduled us a couples massage before I head to practice.”

Giving him a small smile, I nodded.

I wouldn’t let him destroy his career.

David had always been there for me, watching out for me, taking care of me, it was my turn to return the favor.

 

 

****

 

 

It was fucking heaven. Lounging in a cabana at a rooftop pool in New York City in June. I was wearing a white bikini I’d found at a store in the lobby, a triangle cut-out top and tanga bottom. And sipping on my second iced green tea latte. Daniel was on the lounge next to me, wearing fitted black trunks.

When David left for practice, he’d insisted Daniel stay with me, though I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Hey, I’m going to jump in for a minute.” Daniel  sounded like he was asking for permission. 

Looking over at him, I tipped my oversized sunglasses down. “’Kay. I’ll be here, I need to respond to some texts and emails.” I held up my phone.

I wasted no time texting Elaine, giving her a heads up about the letter and what David was doing. Then I texted Alec. I had decided to try to get the filming schedule changed, so I could be with David during his season. I hadn’t truly believed our time apart was affecting him as much as it was me. 

I was done pretending to be strong, pretending not to need him. Being apart was killing us, opening old wounds and creating new ones. Both of us were covered in scars, emotional and physical, we didn’t have room for anymore.

 

Austin: How did you get them to change the

schedule for you?

11:24 AM

 

Alec: I told them it was for you. This is your show,

you wrote it, you created it, they do what you say.

You do realize you’re my boss, right?

11:26 AM

 

Actually, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I’d been too busy being both grateful and terrified of having the show to really let that tidbit settle in. And technically, the men with money were in charge.

 

Austin: I think I’m more like a co-captain.

11:28 AM

 

Alec: Girl, check your email. I just got an

offer for 7 more seasons.

11:29 AM

 

My heart raced in my chest as I pulled up my email, finding one from Jeff.

It was exactly what Alec said it was. Seven more seasons, with me writing six and directing six, leaving six episodes for other directors and writers. And Elaine was right, the offer was almost double the first season.

Clearing my throat, I took a deep resetting breath before hitting reply.

 

Jeff,

The only problem I have with the offer is the filming schedule.

Austin

 

Riddled with anxiety, I stared at my screen waiting for his response. 

I didn’t have to wait long.

Seconds later, Jeff responded.

 

Whatever you want, as long as we’re wrapped before July.

 

All the tension in my body drained away.

It was so easy. Why hadn’t I asked before? My pride? Fear of looking weak? Fear of failure? Maybe I’d just been taking care of myself for too long. But I wasn’t alone anymore, and it was time I stared acting like it.

I needed the strength and security David’s mere presence gave me to get through another season, much less seven. And he needed me for... I didn't know what he needed me for, but he needed me and that was enough.

 

****

 

“And that’s checkmate,” Daniel explained.

Once I finished working out the shoot schedule with Jeff, Daniel decided to teach me how to play chess.

We were stretched out on our sides with the board between us.

“Is David good at this?” I wanted to surprise David—by beating him at chess. Before Daniel could respond I heard,

“You're still here?” A snide remark, thinly veiled as a question.

Looking up, I saw Sarah standing at the end of the cabana. She was wearing a classic red triangle bikini. She had definitely maintained her physic since retiring from fitness modeling, whenever that was.

I said nothing, knowing it was some kind of game I wasn’t willing to play.

I watched as her demeanor shifted to false contrition. “Sorry, I’m just surprised he took so much time with fans this morning, with having you here waiting on him.”

Sarah thought that was an insult. But knowing David felt good enough to interact with fans, happy enough to know he wouldn’t snap at anyone... I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

“Austin, are you okay?” Daniel asked quietly.

I nodded as Sarah, turned, looking Daniel over.

Clearly bothered by not getting the reaction she was looking for, Sarah turned back to me, adding, “Woman to woman, you should know a girl left David’s room a couple weeks ago wearing nothing but a towel.”

I wouldn’t lie, the fact that she knew about that before I did bothered me. But what bothered me more was she seemed to only be traveling to the games to stalk David.

“His groupies sit outside his door, waiting for him. Taking turns with him, probably.”

I couldn’t stop the images of him doing just that from creeping into my mind, awakening my insecurities.

Stop it.

But the reality was, Sarah and his groupies spent more time around David than I did.

Not anymore.

Looking back up at Sarah, I goaded, “But you can’t say for sure, huh? I watched your husband fuck a cute little bubble butted girl during training camp—it was pretty hot—but I’ve never felt compelled to rub it in your face.”    

Her lips pursed, as if she was going to say something else, but then she turned, abruptly, walking away.

“He doesn’t let them in the room.” Daniel’s voice pulled my attention from her retreating form. “Security checks the hall every few hours, but...” he trailed off.

From his apologetic tone, I knew everything she’d said was true. Everything except the most important part, David taking turns with groupies.

I hated not knowing this part of his life. I was jealous of it. That was going to be another benefit of traveling with David, putting bitches like Sarah in their place. I was going to know every little nuance of his life. No secrets. No separation.

My phone chimed, alerting me to a text.

 

David: Where are you?

4:08 PM

 

I grinned at that. Our little phone tracker didn’t really help when you were in the same building.

 

Austin: Rooftop pool.

4:09 PM

 

A couple minutes later, when I still hadn’t received a response, I said, “Let’s play for real this time.”

As Daniel reset the board, I felt that electric-like hum in my body moments before David appeared at the foot of our cabana.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” David’s voice was low and dangerous, like a viper about to strike.

“What are you—”

“Daniel,” David cut me off. “Give us a minute.”

As soon as Daniel stepped out, David pulled the curtain closed behind him.

“What the fuck are you wearin’? I can see your nipples.” His voice was harsh but quiet as he sat down next to me, facing me, pinning me in the corner. “What’re doin’ up here with him?”

Unable to resist, I teased, “I was hoping I could convince Daniel to have a threesome with us. If not, I was gonna try for the cabana boy.”

“Not funny.” His eyes were hard, and full of accusation.

“Come on, can’t I at least fantasize about it? I mean you have naked girls hiding under the bed. Can’t I enjoy the view Daniel offers?” I pushed.

He blew out a rough breath and leaned over me, gathering both my wrists in one big fist, pinning them above my head. “You’re comin’ to the game, I want you in plain view.”

There was a sadness in his aggression, and I worried maybe I’d pushed too far. 

“’Kay.” I paused. “Will you fuck me first?”

I watched as a sad smirk formed on his face.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice so soft and sincere it made something in my chest squeeze.

Biting my lip, I nodded.

“You want my cock?” he rumbled thickly.

I swallowed, barely managing to nod again as my breathing turned shallow and heat bloomed in my belly, spreading through me.

His other hand moved between my legs, fingers playing over my cloth covered sex.

“Tell me something.” He paused. “Did you say that shit to fuck me up?”

“Yeah, I wanted this.” I shifted my arms, indicating his restricting hand.

He nodded, looking solemn. “I control your body... but you control me completely.”

His expression was open, vulnerable, and the sincerity in his voice was heartbreaking.

It was seriously fucking hot.

“You have more influence over me than you think,” I admitted quietly, holding his gaze.  

His eyebrow lifted, in that signature way of his. Intrigued.

“I reworked our shoot scheduled for next season... We'll start in October, and hopefully be done by the time training starts. Worst case scenario, I have to film the first couple of weeks while your at camp.”

His face lit up with hope and awe. “Seriously?”

I nodded, my smile matching his.   

He did have absolute control over me, and I'd all but just told him.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked quietly. “Gotta be fast, I gotta get back for the game, Harold can only cover for me for so long.”

My thighs clenched and eyes widened as I bit my lip, nodding, excited to get our conversation back on track.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

 

 

 

Monday morning, when I returned to work, everything was different. Everything about me anyway, if all the comments were to be believed.

Whether it was because I finally understood and embraced the control I had over the show or the peace David and I had reached, knowing we wouldn’t be separated much longer, I couldn’t say. Both gave me more confidence and a calmness I had been missing with David’s absence.

I wasted no time rearranging the filming schedule for the last three episodes, making it more time efficient.

Then, I spent the next two and a half weeks, working my ass off. I’d managed to keep up our forty-eight-hour rule.

And I was fucking exhausted.

Leaning against the closet island, I debated on clothing choices to fill the limited space remaining in my bags. Then I switched back to my original debate, telling David we’d finished the filming—three days earlier than expected—or show up and surprise him?

David had left the morning before, so I was scheduled to fly out to him—per our forty-eight-hour rule—regardless of my schedule.

Just as I settled on final wardrobe options, I picked up my phone.

“Hi, angel,” I greeted.

“Tell me your sweet ass is on the plane.” His voice was low and rough and... tired.

“I'm packing,” I answered in a singsong voice as I put my last few items in the overnight bag.

“I'm not tryin’ to be an asshole, but just put on some fuckin’ clothes and get your ass on the plane. You're gonna right back on it in the morning.”

“Actually, I'm not,” I hedged.

“What do you mean?”

“If it's okay with you, I'm going to stay with you for the next four days.”

“Oh, fuck yes... You're done?” He sounded both relieved and grateful.

“Yep, all done for season one.”

“Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “So, you're with me for the rest of my season?”

“As much as you want.”

“You know I want every day, all day, all night, and everything in between.”

I laughed. Then thoughtfully, I announced, “I think I'm done.”

“With?” he asked cautiously.

“The shows doing really well, and I've currently achieved more fame than I'm comfortable with, and...” I hesitated, we’d been so excited about not being separated for next season, I’d never told him about the offer and he’d never asked. “We got picked up for seven more seasons.”

“Fuck.” He quickly tried to recover. “I mean, that's good for you, right? It's successful.”

“It's okay. I know you wanted it to fail.”

“It’s not that. I just want you to myself.”

“Well, that's kind of my point. I got what I wanted, and it's great, and I feel satisfied, like I don't feel that drive anymore to keep pursuing acting.” I didn’t know where the words were coming from, but as they slipped over my lips, I realized they were true. “So... I'm thinking... you finish out two more years of baseball, I finish out seven more seasons of the show, and then we get to be us.”

“I'll go to work with you every day,” he added seamlessly. “Take care of you, get your coffee, breakfast, lunch, and you'll have access to my cock all day for stress relief, anytime you need it.”

“Mmm... That actually sounds perfect. And I was thinking... Once you're done with baseball, we could stop using birth control.”

“Yeah? Just let nature take its course after that?”

“Yep.”

“Sounds perfect. Now get your ass on a plane because I need you here yesterday.”

“I'm getting in the car now. Me and Chance will see you soon.”

 

 

****

 

 

I woke up alone and naked. 

We had arrived home the night before, but I’d slept through it. I didn’t remember landing, getting home or in bed, and definitely not undressing.

Hope he had fun.

Last thing I remembered was lying down on David’s bare chest as I recovered from a mind-blowing orgasm, planning on getting a few more. As far as I knew, that hadn’t happened.

Having that smaller bed on the plane turned out to be very helpful. With the constant contact, we couldn’t help but fuck, our bodies demanded it, no matter how tired we were.   

Traveling with him for the four days had been exhausting. I understood why he’d just wanted to hold me that first night. Traveling the way they did was disorienting. With the exhaustion, it was an unsettling combination. It made you want comfort. We did a lot of cuddling. Despite how exhausted we both were, we were happy being together. I thought Chance was too.

And Sarah had pretty much disappeared after she knew we were traveling together. Funny thing was, I didn’t blame her for trying to get David back, not that I would ever try to get a man that was married or didn’t seem to want me.

Hell, I would never try to get a man period.

But thinking she had David, just to be ignored by him? Despite David considering her a girlfriend, he had treated her like a casual fuck buddy. Worse, he hadn't been all that interested in having sex with her. I couldn’t imagine how bad that must’ve felt.

Getting out of bed, I headed to the bathroom before dressing in a tee and sweat shorts, then making my way into the kitchen.

David was standing at the stove, his broad back was on display, the hard planes of muscle shifting under flawless golden skin, tapering down to his narrow hips. I could even see the indents above his sculpted ass.

Fucking perfect.

Sometimes it was still hard to believe he was mine.

“Good morning.” He drew the words out in his sexy sleep-rough voice.

“Hey.” I sat at the kitchen island just as he turned, placing my coffee in front of me. My eyes caught on the python-like muscles in his arms, flexing as he braced against the counter.

Fuck me, this is all it takes to get me hot?

“Have fun with my unconscious body last night?” I teased. I didn’t know if I was trying to hint at my sudden arousal or play it off.

His eyebrows lifted in amusement, and he purred, “What if I did?”

“As long as you made me come, I don’t care,” I answered honestly. “I can go back to bed, pretend to be asleep if you want to violate me now.”

He huffed a quiet laugh and turned back to the stove. “My dirty girl,” he muttered. His voice was a mixture of pleased, amused, and awe.

I sipped my coffee, hiding my disappointment that he hadn’t immediately taken me up on the offer.

“Where do I need to go for my fitting?” he asked over his shoulder.

Setting my cup down, I looked around. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. When I didn't respond right away, he turned looking at me.

“For the Espys,” he elaborated. “You picked out a tux for me when you got your dress, right?”

“What?”

“The Espys, sweetheart. It's next month,” he said, as if I was supposed to already know.

“David!”

“Did I not tell you?” he asked innocently. “So I guess that means you didn’t get me a suit for the Gala tomorrow night.”

“What! Why couldn’t you have told me when I had a wardrobe department at my disposal?” I complained as I stood up, “I swear.” 

“Where are you goin’? I made breakfast.”

“To make some calls.”   

“Sorry,” he called behind me distractedly.

He wasn't sorry. I had a feeling he waited until the last minute so I would be too busy doing stuff for us—him—to do anything else.

Since I finished filming, he had been monopolizing every minute of my day. Well... I was mostly done with filming, there was a good chance I would have to go in for some post work.

 

 

****

 

 

“You look fucking amazing. Now pay attention to me,” David demanded, tugging on my upper arm as I stared at my reflection in the window, trying to check my makeup on the way to the gala. “Seriously, you’re fucking gorgeous, and that dress... I see another warning letter in my future.”

I had called Delia the morning before, fortunately she still had a few wardrobe options from the show, hooking me up for the Gala and the up coming Espys.  I’d chosen one of the dresses she had already fitted for me but I’d never worn; a white, sleeveless, beaded, deep V mini dress with an open back. I paired it with six carat stud earrings, my wedding rings, and a pair of nude, Louboutin, ankle-strap, platform sandals that I had purchased the day before—finally really getting a chance to break in that black card.

Though, I ended up spending more on David than myself, picking out the pale gray Brioni suit, tie and button-up shirt he was wearing. It was a monochromatic look, making the focus his too handsome face and perfectly tousled hair.

Which wasn’t fair. It took me an hour to get that sex-hair look, all he did was run his fingers through his.

Literally.    

Tonight, I’d opted for a more polished topknot look to show off the open-back dress.

“What do you need, sexy?” I asked, leaning into him, running my hand up his thigh. The material of his pants did nothing to hide the contours of his heavy muscles. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Don’t get me hard.”

“But it’s more fun when you are,” I purred.Everything had been going so well between us since New York. We’d reached a place were neither of us were as insecure. He still got jealous and possessive, but the fear of me actually doing anything was half of what it had been before. And I honestly couldn’t imagine him cheating on me. He was too devoted, too determined to have us, to have his long-awaited family.

“We’re not staying all night,” David warned. “I have much better things planned for later.”

I had no doubt about that.

We’d both been insatiable the past couple of days. I didn’t know if it was the summer, that fact that our one-year anniversary was quickly approaching, or something else. Whatever it was, I wasn’t complaining.

“Do we have enough time for you to fuck my mouth?” I asked, trailing my finger down his inner thigh.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. Then he checked his white gold Rolex and grumbled, “No.”

Minutes later, the car pulled up in front of the stadium.

“Showtime, sweetheart,” David muttered, exiting the car, then blocked any potential up skirt views as he helped me out. 

“Thank you, angel.”

He gave me a sexy smirk as he offered me his arm before leading me down the carpet and in front of the long line of photographers.

It seemed to last forever. Posing, walking a few feet, posing again. My cheeks hurt by the time we were finished and heading inside to mingle.

After thirty minutes of smiling politely, I didn't think I could hide it anymore. I was horny. I slid my hand into his, entwining our fingers, then scraping my thumbnail over his palm. He gave my hand a slight squeeze before quickly excused himself from the other guests.

He led me away, and once we were out of hearing range, he leaned in. “You ready to leave?”

“I need you to make me come,” I whispered against his cheek.

He pulled back with a Cheshire cat grin and murmured, “Anything my girl wants.”

He escorted me back and off the field, through a series of wide hallways. We ended up in the locker room.

There were three black leather sectionals running down the middle, with TV’s hanging from the ceiling above each. Looking around the room, my eyes finally landed on Taylor, above what looked like an open closet area.

Taylor 23. Seeing it gave me a twinge of sadness. I wanted his last name, and we still hadn’t sent in the paperwork. But that was going to the top of my to-do list.

“This is your locker? There's no doors.” My brows pulled together, my confusion obvious.

There was a hanging bar, a narrow chest of drawers, storage cabinet above and what resembled an oversized office chair in front of it. It was nothing like what I’d imagined.

He laughed quietly, a soft rumble that warmed my insides as he pulled me across the room, stopping in front of his locker. His big hands gripped my hips, pulling me close. My high heels made him only three inches taller than me, allowing him to press his erection into my lower belly.

“This is perfect. I'd love to smell your pussy before every game.” He grinned devilishly. “What do you say?” he rasped with a lift of his brows. “Let's mark my locker, make it smell like you, like your sweet cunt.”

Before I could respond, his hand maneuvered under my dress, shoving my panties aside. His fingers grazed over my wet cleft, before two thick digits pushed inside.

 Relief washed through me at the sudden intrusion. I loved when he took command of my body, allowing me to let go. My head fell back as my eyes closed, and I bit my lip, trying not to make any noise.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encouraged as I relaxed, giving myself over to him.

“David," I breathed, bracing myself, one hand on top of the chest of drawers, the other on the opposite wall of the locker.

His gentle exploration quickly shifted, turning rough as his fingers attack my G-spot relentlessly.

“Oh fuck,” I panted. “What are you doing?” I asked, despite already knowing.

“I want you to squirt for me,” he rasped.

Our new found comfort in our relationship, reflected in our sex. Because instead of my normal responses, “no, not in this dress” or “no, we’ll mess up our clothes”, I didn’t say a word, I just lifted my dress and spread my legs.

A deep guttural noise rattled in his chest before he said, “Goddamn, that’s sexy.”

My body shook under his relentless attention and vulgar praise.

“Come on, come for me, I wanna see that pussy rain.” His voice was low and rough, going straight to my sex.

“David.” It was a weak plea, asking him to put me out of my misery. The tension in my core was coiled so tight it was excruciating.

Suddenly, he squatted down in front of me, getting a better view. I felt exposed and vulnerable, out on display. I watched him, entranced by his determination.

Within seconds, my mouth opened in a silent moan as pleasure exploded from my core, pumping through me violently.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl.” He sounded like he was coming.

In the next second he was up, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me to his chest, as his fingers continued their assault on my quivering sex.

I panted into his neck as he drew out my climax. After a moment, a laugh bubbled up out of me.

“Mmm, come on. Let’s go home and finish this,” he growled. He pulled away, grabbing one of his jersey’s off a hanger, cleaning up our mess. “Wait here.”

He disappeared around a corner. When he returned moments later, he had a wet towel.

Kneeling down in front of me, he picked up one of my feet, setting it on his knee. I gripped his shoulders for balance as he carefully cleaned me.

“I’m gonna be your boss next year,” he stated casually.

“What?” I asked, looking down into those deep brown eyes.

“I’ve been talking to Jeff. Next season, I’m gonna co-produce your show. Jeff’s gonna show me the ropes for the next two seasons. Then it’ll be me—or us. If you wanna start our own production company...” He trailed off, setting my foot down and starting on the other leg.

I stared at him in bewilderment. I was so touched he would consider something like that, especially when we’d never discussed it.

“Are you serious?” I breathed through a growing grin.

He looked up at me. “Yeah.” His mouth lifted on one side, turning into his charming almost grin. “Turns out, I can make more producing your show, than playing ball... And then there’s the bonus of being with you all the time, and getting to veto anything I don’t want you doin’.”

“Very funny,” I admonished. Though he probably wasn’t kidding. “I would love to have you produce, and I would love having our own production company.”

“Good, me too.” Once he was done cleaning me, he stood abruptly, grabbing my hand. “Now let’s get the fuck outta here.”