CHAPTER SEVEN
Webb couldn’t help but notice Gracie quietly exit the meeting room with a poise no other coach he’d ever met possessed. She did stop and whisper in Skip Townsend’s ear before planting a kiss smack dab in the middle of his bald spot.
She glanced Webb’s way and gave him a finger wave as she sashayed out.
He was about to follow her when another reporter asked about rumors of his doing charity work. Thank goodness he’d taken the time this afternoon to call his sister Arial for her permission before he talked publically about this.
He couldn’t force a smile, so he simply nodded. “That’s right, I am. It’s a charity that’s very close to my heart.” Naming it, he continued talking. “I had a niece, Mia Rose, and she was the sweetest kid. God, she was adorable.” He shook his head and released a pain-filled bark of laughter. “She called me Uncle Whack. I called her Mia Mine. She had curly dark hair before the chemo for her leukemia took it all. Cancer is a terrible disease. I’m confident it comes from the bowels of hell. Not only does it take our loved ones, it destroys families, and drains folks financially.”
He’d helped Arial with the sky high medical bills and living expenses when she had to take family leave to be with Mia Rose, but not every parent had a relative who earned millions and invested it wisely.
“I’ll be helping this fine charity in memory of my niece, Mia Rose, who passed when she was eight.”The moisture had evaporated from his mouth. His heart squeezed out each painful beat like every drop of water being wrung from a washcloth. Even now, three years later, he couldn’t utter the word die, not in relation to Mia Mine.
If he was really going to turn the corner from bad boy Mohanty to respectable Mohanty, he’d do it in her memory because she’d been the love of his life. Odd how your sister’s child could burrow her way into your reckless heart—and how that heart could shatter when her brief time in your world was over.
Webb held up a hand. “Okay, folks, that last question drained me. I think I’m through for the night. Thanks for coming. I look forward to seeing you all when pre-season games start.” He sat and asked for a glass of sparkling water, when what he really wanted was a double shot of whiskey.
The press straggled out and the dinner Gabe had previously ordered was brought in for management and their guests. Webb automatically ate what was put in front of him, memories of Mia Rose dragging him down. God, she’d been through so much misery.
So had Arial. Having her spineless husband, ex-husband now, walk out on her and Mia Rose when they needed him most had been a double blow. Webb had learned then the power of women, for she kept forging ahead, working, and taking care of Mia Rose. It wasn’t until after the funeral that Arial had collapsed. Their momma had moved in with her for a month to nurse her back to a semblance of herself.
He was glad he’d called her today. It was good to hear the strength back in Arial’s voice. Getting the promotion she’d worked so hard for had her damn near giddy. She was dating, finally. There was some hope in her life, and damn, she deserved every morsel of it.
While he ate, he nodded as people spoke and replied in monosyllabic words. He really could use a drink. As if Cooper had read his mind, he set a squat tumbler of golden liquid in front of Webb.
“From Gabe,” he whispered. “Boss said the way you looked after talking about your niece and all, you needed this. One is all you can have, but he doesn’t like how pale you are.”
Webb’s fingers wrapped around the thick glass as if it were a lifeline. “Tell him, I said thanks. I sure as hell need this.” His hand shook as he brought the drink to his lips and took a gulp.
Cooper pulled two plastic keycards from his coat pocket. “Boss gave me these, too, for tomorrow night. Passes to a private club he holds considerable interest in. He wants you to have one good night before your celibacy begins.” Webb looked from the black cards with one word in gold cursive writing to Cooper. “I told you he looks after his own, and for some reason he’s added you to his short list of people to take care of.” His driver slipped the cards back in his jacket.
“How the boss finds out stuff, I’ll never know. Wouldn’t have taken you for a Dom.”
“We don’t make it a habit of having it tattooed to our foreheads.” Webb nailed Cooper with a hard glare. Just how had Dare found out? Another swallow of whiskey seared a mellow burn on its journey down his throat.
“I’ve got my tattoo right above my cock,” Coop smirked. “The elite club’s name is Expectations. Did you pack your leathers?”
Webb sipped more single malt hoping it would obliterate the image of the placement of Cooper’s damn tattoo. “My leathers? I never leave home without ʼem.” He glanced over at Gabe and raised his whiskey glass in salute. Gabe’s head inclined slightly. He didn’t smile. From what Webb had heard, only the billionaire’s wife and daughter made him smile.
“What time are we going tomorrow?” Webb scrutinized Cooper. He hadn’t taken him for a Dominant either, but then again, he’d been wrapped up in his own misery. Gracie’s image floated across his mental sky—and sparked his lust.
“Nine, man. Pack your stuff. We’ll change there.” Coop stalked off, his strut sure and prevailing. Maybe Webb hadn’t paid enough attention to the man. The signs, the natural demeanor were evident, but not profound.
As soon as he could politely get away, once management was through telling him how pleased they were with his performance, he stood. His destination was Gracie’s room. He wanted to thank her for helping him tonight. Passing through the club’s bar, a tall beautiful woman caught his attention.
Black hair shimmered under the lights, like black satin as it shifted when she nodded or leaned her head back to laugh. Webb halted. Gracie was an exquisite woman to watch. Her hands moved with expression when she talked. Her body at a regal stance, she joked with several other women, probably romance writers. He’d have to get some of Gracie’s books and read them on his iPad.
He wove his way through the circular tables to where she stood. For now, he needed to kiss the hummingbird tattoo on her shoulder blade. No logical reason why, he just did.
Talking stopped in her group as he approached and the tension in her posture indicated she sensed his presence. He stood behind her and slowly, possessively slid his palms down her arms and covered her hands before moving them to her waist. “Gracie,” he whispered on a moan as he leaned to press his lips to her pretty inked body art.
She shivered in his arms and he relished her response. He wanted more. For the first time in his life, he wanted his own submissive not one he picked up at some club. His own. A sub no one else dared touch. Damn, he wanted to go all caveman, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her back to his hotel room.
He wouldn’t though. Bad boy Mohanty was turning a new leaf. That didn’t mean when he got her alone, he wouldn’t dominate and please her any way she wanted. In public though, he’d behave. So, he broke contact and stepped back.
“Ladies, sorry to interrupt your conversation. I’m a sucker for tattoos and this lovely lady has one on her back. See, how pretty it is?” He grabbed Gracie’s shoulders and pivoted her to show off her ink. A firestorm of anger blasted from her eyes and damn near scorched his whiskered scruff.
Aw hell, she’s pissed.
One of her friends plopped onto a nearby bar stool and stuck out her foot. “I’ve got a tat across my instep. Kiss it!”
His gaze swept to Gracie, who had her arms crossed. “Why, yes, you must kiss Jennifer’s foot. For fairness sake, and all that.”
So he leaned over, read the scripture verse Jennifer had tattooed on her foot, and prayed a lightning bolt wouldn’t hit him when he kissed it. He straightened, relieved that was over, when another woman elbowed him. She had the top to her dress jerked down to display a large mound of breast and a heart tattoo with a man’s name—Tyrell—written across it.
“Kiss it, you good looking hunk of manhood, you,” she purred.
Webb shook his head. “I don’t think Tyrell would approve.”
“Oh, he will when I call him later to tell him how horny I am and we have phone sex. Hummm, Daddy Studly will be right pleased, so he will.”
“Well, hell, if it helps two married people be happier.” He hastily kissed the red heart and the woman fanned herself.
He was pleased to see the last lady Gracie was talking to wasn’t holding any body parts in front of him. Then she turned and pulled down her pants to reveal a tattoo on her ass. He did a quick glance around the area and all eyes were on him. Damn, he’d created a scene again. He kissed his fingertips and placed them on her skin and made a sizzling sound, shaking his hand as if it had been burnt. “I knew that would be too hot for my lips.”
The strange butt lady laughed and hugged him.
He turned to say something to Gracie and she was gone.