Chapter Twenty-One

Rhett

Brenna opened the door wearing workout wear and a towel. Her beautiful face had been painted a deep shade of angry crimson by a careless asshole. Me.

Regret hit me in the small of my back and propelled me forward. I doubted anything would be salvageable from our short interlude, but I had to try. I had to work as hard to make things right with this woman as I worked on striking out enemy batters.

“I need to talk to…”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Brenna said, her voice low and dangerous. She stepped into the hallway, closing her door behind her and blocking the doorway with her petite body. “You don’t get to talk right now, asshole!” She spat venom at me with each word. “I know exactly what you’ve been doing. Manipulate much when you don’t get your way at the drop of your ball cap!”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Look, I know you’re pissed–”

“Pissed does not even begin to cover it,” Brenna hissed through clenched teeth. Her green eyes flashed with angry fire, and her pale nostrils flared. “I cannot believe you.” She shook her head, clenching her jaw so tightly I could see muscles twitching at the sides of her face.

“I just wanted–”

“Fuck you!” Brenna yelled. She jabbed her finger toward my chest, and her frail arm shook under the force of her emotion. “I know exactly what you did, Rhett, and the word is collusion.”

My jaw dropped, and I threw my arms in the air. Shit. If she didn’t stop interrupting me, I’d never get the chance to explain. Not that I deserved it. And standing here, braving her wrath made me acutely aware of that stubborn fact. But collusion? That was some criminal shit.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You made me have sex with you,” Brenna accused. Her voice shook with anger but those flashing emerald eyes began to soften. Her green eyes filled with tears and she blinked a few times, wiping them away with a finger at the corner of her eyes.

“Excuse me,” I said, controlling my own temper. I deserved a lot of the accusations being hurled my way but not all my intentions had been underhanded. I still possessed some shreds of my humble New Jersey upbringing and the values that came along with it. “I didn’t make you do anything, Brenna. You exercised your own free will. I’m only guilty of withholding information from you. And I have nothing but the deepest regret over my part in that.”

“You lied to me!” Brenna snarled. “You led me on without giving me any idea of who you truly were in regards to me prior to the accident that you caused! I didn’t consent to have sex with Rhett Bradshaw, the asshole playboy under constant scrutiny for sexual harassment. I consented to have sex with Rhett Bradshaw, the incredibly sweet, caring and funny man I’d been seeing.”

“Brenna, I’m the same person,” I said in exasperation, throwing my hands up in the electric air between us. I almost wished she’d hurl her tiny body at me and pummel me raw. I’d welcome the pain if it would make even the tiniest amount of my negative emotions abate. “Come on. You’re being ridiculous. Just calm down, and I can–”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,” Brenna snapped. She stepped closer, and I saw the anger return to her petite features. “Don’t you dare, Rhett Bradshaw. The worst thing you can do to an upset woman is tell her to calm down!”

“I just wanted a chance to show you the real me,” I said in a rush before she could get going again, holding my hands frozen in the same gesture of surrender. “Look, Brenna, I’ve never lied to you. I was falling for you that day I said the words outside Tony’s. I wanted you to see that I wasn’t the cad you’d made me out to be before the accident. Don’t you think people would be willing to lie and embellish so they can enjoy their fifteen minutes? It’s like TMZ territory once you’re a Yankee. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“But you lied to me so you could have sex with me!” Brenna screeched, not listening. Or not caring. Maybe a lethal combination of both. I felt my ship sinking deeper and deeper into the raging waters. “You really thought that was the way to win my heart? By manipulating me into bed with you, Rhett? That’s not trust. That’s bullshit.”

The word hit me like a punch in the gut. Was she really going to take everything we shared, everything we could share and throw it away like a pissed on copy of yesterday’s Times?

“You took advantage of me,” Brenna said, forging ahead, defending her warped position to the bitter end. “You made me think you were someone different – someone kind, who I actually liked. I thought about a future with you. God, how could I have been so blind?”

“I told you, I’m that guy.”

“No, you’re not!” Brenna screamed. “The same guy who got in trouble for assaulting a stripper? And what about that fucking PR agent, huh? What the fuck did you do when you were under her care?”

I groaned. “It wasn’t me–”

“The hell it wasn’t. My stories get fact checked by my editor, Rhett Bradshaw. Sport Taste doesn’t print lies and conjecture. We’ve won a Pulitzer. That dog don’t hunt.”

“No, Brenna, you gotta hear me out. Look, I know I’ve been a real pig at times over the past few years, okay? But I’d never, never assault someone. I can say with every fiber of my being that all of my activities have been legal and between consenting adults.”

“Oh yeah?” Brenna crossed her arms over her chest. “What about Allison Miller? What about that fucking sweet, little college freshman?” She glared at me. “Lemme guess – that was just you trying to show the ‘real’ you?” Her words dripped with so much unharnessed anger I thought my skin might melt off my face under the force of the heat.

I groaned. “I can explain–”

“I don’t want to hear your bullshit explanations. You’re just going to use your flowery words, your charm, and your killer smile to manipulate me again. I’m not falling for it. You can’t work me over again!”

I grabbed Brenna’s wrist and pulled her close. I could feel her frantic pulse through the delicate skin – her heart thudded so hard her pulse quivered at her neck. God, how I wanted to lean down and lick it until it only raged for me.

“Listen to me,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Allison Miller was a dumb stripper who cried rape after she gave Ernie a blowjob in the champagne room.”

“Then why didn’t she blame him?”

“Because,” I snarled. “A little pain in my ass named Brenna Sinclair wrote a hit piece on me that very week, and Allison thought she could make a buck out of it. There was nothing on Ernie – I was suddenly the bad one.” I rolled my eyes. “You make it all me.”

Brenna’s eyes widened, and she yanked her wrist away. “Then why didn’t you defend yourself? That’s a serious accusation, Rhett! Sexual assault!”

I groaned. “Do you have any idea at all how lawyers work in a my-word against her-word case? Besides, management felt it better to just accept the publicity.”

Brenna stared at me, her mouth gaping open in surprise. “Even dumb strippers deserve respect, Rhett Bradshaw. Were you born in a barn?”

I shrugged. “Look, the Yankees are a multi-billion-dollar machine. Any publicity is good publicity. It puts asses in the seats. My bad-boy reputation is partly earned but mostly contrived. I didn’t assault Allison, Brenna. I swear. I’d never lay a hand on a woman unless I knew she wanted it. I’d swear on my Papa’s grave if it were in front of me. And Papa Joe was my favorite person in this whole wide world. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Brenna swallowed. “And what about the teenager?”

“Some girl snuck into the locker room. She said she was twenty, and that she wanted to party with us. So Ernie and I took her to a club. Ernie gave her a few Benjamins to do a private dance, and she went crazy and tried to fuck me right in the middle of the room. Turns out she’d taken some Ecstasy to work up her nerve on a dare from her girlfriends. We handed her over to security, and she threatened to go public with the accusation that Ernie and I tried to rape her.”

Brenna stared, shell-shocked. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not, swear to god,” I said, stopping only long enough to throw my hand up as if I were swearing on a bible in a court of law. Maybe I was swearing in the court of Brenna Sinclair. If I could, I’d throw myself on her mercy. “I can even show you the documents if you want – she confessed on tape, and we settled out of court. My lawyer and my publicist handled the whole thing.”

Brenna blinked. “I can’t figure it out,” she said. She stepped back, leaning against the closed door, and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly looking very young and very small.

And so tired she could barely stand. And I’d done it to her. For the first time in a long time, I felt so contrite my own body shook with it.

“What?” I stepped closer. When I went to put my hand on Brenna’s shoulder, she made a half-hearted attempt to push me away. The dark circles under her eyes made her look so frail and broken.

“I still can’t figure out why you hit me on purpose,” Brenna said, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You threw that sinker, on purpose,” Brenna said. She lifted her chin, looking hateful and defiant. So much for her softening. “I watched some old videos – I know your tricks, Rhett. Every time you throw a sinker to a fastball hitter like Andy, it gets fouled off into the vicinity of the dugout. That day, it was right where the press had gathered to watch batting practice. You knew it would come straight at me.”

“Oh, come the fuck on!” I groaned, scrubbing my face with my hands. Seriously? That accusation was the most ridiculous bullshit I’d heard since I’d suited up for the first time to take the field in a major league game. I threw the pitch and Andy hit it. He had no control over where his foul ball would land. “Why the hell would I do that? To you, of all people?”

“Because of the things I’ve written about you,” Brenna said. Her nostrils flared once more. “Because you wanted to get revenge on me, for damaging your reputation!”

“That’s fucking ridiculous,” I said. “I nodded at you right before I threw it – I figured maybe you’d be impressed and write something about my athletic ability for once. No one can hit that pitch off me when it’s right.”

Brenna fumed silently, negating my explanation. The wind left my sails, and I just felt defeated.

“Come on,” I said. “I told you – I always thought you were really hot. I never would have tried to hurt you on purpose. But when you forgot you hated me…well, you can’t exactly hate me for taking the chance to find out how things would be in a different world?”

Brenna glared at me. The tension between us was so thick you could carve it out with a butter knife.

“You’re a monster,” Brenna said, tilting her tiny chin at a defiant angle. I didn’t know what else to do. I’d never been faced with this kind of rancor coming from a woman before. Women loved me. I’d never had to learn the smoothing it all over skill set.

I shrugged. “I never claimed to be perfect. But I swear, Brenna, I never tried to hurt you. And as soon as I realized how deep you were falling for me, I felt guilty. I swear. And then…well, I was falling too.”

Brenna closed her eyes. She raised her arm, and I cringed, thinking she was about to slap me. Instead, she closed the space between our bodies and wrapped her arms around my neck. She pressed her mouth against mine, and I didn’t question it. One final chance to press my case and using my body had always proved my best option. Up close, she smelled like peppermint soap and shampoo. I enjoyed her feminine heat for a lingering second, but then felt Brenna’s hot little body crush against mine, and I kissed her back, shoving her against the door and holding her hostage.

“This is on my terms,” Brenna moaned in my ear. She nipped at my earlobe until I felt the skin break. “This is me, doing this because I want to. I’m going to fuck you out of my system, Rhett Bradshaw, if it’s the last damn thing I ever do.” She pushed open the door to her apartment and yanked me inside, pressing me against the wall of the foyer.

Shit, hadn’t I mentally promised myself the same damn thing multiple times since I’d met her? Oh, how the tables had turned. Adele should sing a song about it. That’s right. She already had.

“Maybe we shouldn’t…” I panted, not believing my own damn words. When in the hell had I become the rational one?

“Shut up,” Brenna growled. “I’m doing this because I want to. I know I’m doing it. I consent to this,” she added hotly, covering my neck in kisses. “Just so we’re all clear on the subject.”

Brenna ripped my shirt open and threw the tattered material to the ground. Eagerly, I pulled her in my arms and yanked her yoga pants down. The smell of her freshly washed pussy filled the room, and Brenna fumbled with my belt, yanking my pants down.

With ease, I lifted Brenna into the air and pushed her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me close, taking my cock in one smooth motion. We didn’t speak as I fucked her against the wall. Brenna’s eyes were closed, and she whimpered, then groaned.

This time was a night and day difference from the last. This was a new Brenna – a fierce Brenna, a Brenna who was desperate for my body. As I humped her harder, Brenna yelled out her anger along with her passion. She wrapped her arms around my neck and scratched her nails down my back until she drew blood. The pain mingled with the hot, confused lust flooding my body and I groaned, arching my back and driving deep inside of her.

Brenna screamed as I slammed my cock inside of her slick heat. She closed her eyes and threw her head back against the wall. The towel tumbled free from her hair, and soon my cheeks were lashed with wet strands as we moved together in a frantic rhythm of lust. Brenna’s cheeks were flushed pink with arousal, and I slid a hand between our bodies, swirling her clit until she screamed again and bit my neck with each stroke of my thumb.

I grabbed Brenna’s wrists and held them above her head with one hand, balancing myself against the wall as I fucked her. As we moved together, I felt a kind of intimacy grow between us that I hadn’t ever felt before. It wasn’t the kind of sex I ever imagined having with Brenna, but somehow it felt rawer, truer than the sex we’d had before.

Brenna arched her back and rubbed her body against mine. She screwed up her eyes and howled, throwing her head back and twisting it all around. I felt her legs tighten their grip around my waist, and a few seconds later, she began to shake and quiver as a powerful orgasm tore through her body.

Brenna screamed. She writhed and thrashed against me, and for a moment, I struggled to hold her against the wall. Then I groaned as my own orgasm mounted. I drove my cock deep inside Brenna’s soaked pussy, gushing inside of her as I twitched and pulsed, cursing that I hadn’t even remembered a condom, and not caring.

Almost immediately after I finished, Brenna yanked her hands free. She pushed me away, reeling as she grabbed her towel and her discarded yoga pants from the floor. My heart thudded a symphony of wasted passion as Brenna whirled around, pointing a finger at my chest and glaring.

“Hey, come on,” I said, placating the beast the only way I knew how. “Why don’t we go out to dinner, try talking things over?”

Brenna stared at me with her lips parted, breathing hard, the face that would forever be burned into my memory still flushed with arousal. For a moment, I thought she’d throw me a bone and say yes.

I’d always been the eternal optimist, which had served me well in the past.

Wrong.

“Get out,” Brenna snarled. She pointed toward the door. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Rhett. I don’t want to ever lay eyes on your two-faced ass again!”

“Brenna, come on.”

“Now!” Brenna screamed. “You disgust me. Go!”

I had no choice. With the tattered remains of my shirt clutched in my hand, I turned on my heel and slunk out of Brenna Sinclair’s apartment. And I knew my life would never be the same again. Because once you realize in the depths of your soul that you’ve spent nearly the first thirty years of your life being an entitled asshole, you can’t unknow it. And I’d never been very good at turning on a dime.