Playing To Win: An Elite Athlete Sport Romance Anthology

by Mignon Mykel

  Checking the time on my watch, it’s a quarter ‘til seven. If we don’t take too long, I should be able to grab dinner with him and make it back home no later than eight-thirty, giving me enough time to shower and get ready for bed.

  “I’m ready if you are,” he says, heading down the hallway. He changed into a pair of denim jeans and white tennis shoes to match his crisp white t-shirt, complementing his tanned skin.

  My eyes roam over his body, down to the denim covered muscular thighs. Even the watch sitting on his wrist looks sexy, the dark-brown leather, simple yet rugged. I’ve always been a sucker for the athletes with their confidence and the way they carry themselves, but Colson is in a league all his own. I’m quite positive he could wear a brown paper sack and still manage to make it look sexy.

  We take the elevator down to the lobby, cutting out of an exit-only door to the side street. Since Ireland’s Pub is just around the corner, it is a quick walk. My knee is still sore and stiff but feeling much better each day. Thankfully, the media that had been circling us, or well, him, yesterday has since disappeared.

  It only takes a couple of minutes for us to step up to the small, dark bar with the neon lights hanging in the small front window. Dark bricks encase the front with a green awning hanging overhead.

  Colson points between the booths lining the back wall over to the barstools near the bar. I shrug my shoulders before gesturing to the booth in the corner away from the prying eyes of strangers, although it’s surprisingly quiet even for a weeknight.

  Colson nods, pressing his large palm to my lower back, warming me through my clothes as he guides me toward the empty table. I slide across the bench seat as he takes the spot across from me. He reaches for the menu, immediately scanning what’s available, and I do the same. The sooner we can order and eat, the sooner I can head back home, gaining some distance from him.

  Although, once the thought crosses my mind, I immediately wish I could take it back. It’s not that I don’t want to be here with him, I just have so much on my mind after our conversation. When I’m around him, I seem to lose all sense of right and wrong.

  I keep replaying his comments about my dad being his coach, but he’s not the boss of him or his decisions. He’s right! We’re both adults; I’m a grown woman. It’s not that I’m worried about what he could say or think, it’s more what could happen if word got out or if things went south between us.

  I just started with the Miami Blaze. This is a fantastic opportunity, a chance for me to make this my career. I want to be here long past when my dad retires. I don’t need or want a fling to ruin my reputation or give off the perception I’m here as a way of meeting and dating players on the team.

  It’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.

  Although, we both know it’s not like we met at work and started seeing each other afterward. In fact, the media did a fan-freaking-tastic job of publicizing our first-time meeting. Once people found out that’s how we actually met, it would clear up any speculation of this being some sort of tawdry affair.

  Ugh, I hate even thinking of it like that.

  “You okay?” Colson asks, eyes roaming over my face, trying to gauge if something is bothering me.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, you just looked like someone told you your dog was ugly.”

  “Who would say something like that?”

  “I don’t know, but you look offended or maybe a little annoyed.”

  “You sure seem to read me so well.”

  “Maybe this isn’t something you’d want to hear, but you tend to wear what you’re thinking on your face. Anyone who’s paying attention would have a fairly good idea of what’s on your mind. And trust me, I’m paying attention.”

  Something about his words warms me all over. I’m in desperate need of space, or maybe just a glass of water, as my eyes break apart from him, searching for a waiter to swoop in and help me.

  My tongue darts out, swiping across my lips, wetting my skin.

  “Sydney,” Colson commands. His words low, full of desire. “I only sat on the other side of this table, knowing without space between us, I wouldn’t be able to resist kissing you. If you keep fuckin’ lickin’ those lips, all bets will be off.”

  5

  Sydney

  Sitting in my office the next day, I’m in the middle of reading emails and making a list of things I need to do before our charity event when my mind wanders back to Colson.

  It’s been like this ever since we first met. All it takes is one thing to remind me of him, and before I know it, I’m staring off into space, completely zoned out with my mind wrapped up in all things Colson Rush.

  Today, I was reading over an email about traveling expenses for a few upcoming games and my mind skipped to thoughts of joining the team for an away game. I started to picture staying in the same hotel, Colson showing up at my door after all the coaches and players have gone to bed. I imagined the look on his face when I opened the door, the smirk on his mouth as he’d taunt me, telling me I better not leave him waiting out there before he pushed his way through the door to take what he wants.

  We were just getting to the good part when two knocks on my office door jolt me from my thoughts as my dad appears before me dressed for practice in his athletic shorts and black Miami Blaze t-shirt.

  Nothing hits like a cold bucket of water over the head like having your dad pop up like a jack in the box when dirty thoughts are running through your mind.

  “Hey, Syd, sorry to bother ya. Hope I’m not keeping you from anything important.”

  Oh, nothing too important. Just picturing what it would be like to do the horizontal mambo with one of your players. I think to myself.

  “Not at all. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the Community Cares event coming up on Thursday. I know it’s last minute, and we had talked about having Jaxsen join you, but I was thinking about it after we talked yesterday. What do you think about having Colson help out? He used to volunteer for an organization helping underprivileged kids back in Chicago. I think he’d love the opportunity to join.”

  I picture Colson hanging out with the kids at the Girls and Boys Clinic. As if there wasn’t already a growing list of things I found attractive, let’s add him volunteering to help kids in need to the list.

  “Yeah, I think that sounds perfect.”

  As if he can somehow hear my thoughts or can sense we’re talking about him, Colson turns the corner standing outside my office door. He looks lost, his eyes scanning the names outside each door before he stops and his eyes fall on mine.

  “Hey,” Colson says, looking from my dad over to me.

  “Colson, hey. We were just talking about you.”

  The slight curve on the edge of his mouth is his not-so-subtle way of letting me know he likes knowing we were talking about him.

  “We have a Community Cares event coming up on Thursday. It’s down at the Girls and Boys Clinic, helping some underprivileged kids in Miami prepare for heading back to school. There are around seventy-five kids who will be participating. We’ll fill up a backpack with supplies, hand out free Miami Blaze t-shirts, and shoot some hoops with them for a while.”

  “That sounds great! I would love to help out. You can count me in.”

  “Wonderful! Sydney is helping oversee the event, so she’ll be there with you, helping get everything organized and ready, while you can spend some time getting to know some of the kids.”

  His eyes dart over to me, hearing we’ll be working together on it. I nearly bite off my lip seeing his excitement at the idea of us leading this together. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the opportunity to spend some time with him, even if I promised myself to avoid any thought or idea of us being more.

  “Absolutely! I was involved in a couple clinics back in Chicago. I’d love to get back into it down here in Miami.”

  “Great, well, I need to head back to my office to take c
are of a few more things before practice starts, so I’ll leave you to sort out the details.”

  We say our goodbyes as my dad walks out the door, shutting it behind him. We both stare at the closed door for a moment before turning our attention back to each other.

  Taking a seat in front of my desk, Colson crosses one leg in front of the other, his hands folded in his lap. My eyes take in his suntanned skin, looking bronzed from the Miami summer sun. The tribal tattoo wrapped around his arm, flexing like he’s attempting to hold himself back.

  Reminding myself I’m at work and to keep it professional, I say, “Alright, well, I guess since we live so close to each other, it just makes sense for us to ride down there together. I’ll have everything loaded up in my car the night before to bring to the event. The gym there will have all the equipment we need, and we can use their carts to load everything in.”

  My face warms as his eyes stare into me, meeting my eyes before traveling down to my lips. He did this last night, staring at my mouth, taunting me by making me question and wonder what he could possibly be thinking.

  “Is that everything?”

  His face doesn’t change, continuing to stay expressionless while I pause for a moment, waiting for him to clue me in to how he’s feeling.

  “I think so. Do you have any questions?”

  “Nope,” he says, popping the last part of the word.

  “Great…” I trail off. I’m waiting for him to get up and exit my office, leaving me in a pool of my own desire when he goes.

  My tongue darts out, unintentionally dragging it over my lips, trying to bring some moisture to my skin. Feeling like he’s stolen my breath away, I’m left in a daze.

  I realize then the error of my move, or maybe it was a point for me, depending on how you look at it, when a deep growl escapes his throat.

  “Colson…” I say, trailing off again.

  “Sydney, why do you constantly tempt me?”

  My heart stutters, forcing heavy breaths to heave from my chest, rising and falling with every inhale and exhale.

  I don’t know what to say, I don’t dare move, as I lean back against the tall back of my chair. His eyes grow hooded, my hands curl into fists clenching the arms of my chair.

  “Wha-what do you mean?”

  “I told you last night at the bar how badly I wanted to kiss you. I understand you want to keep this professional and how our jobs can interfere if we were to cross the line, but you can’t look at me the way you do while licking those delicious lips and expect me not to want a taste.”

  I drag my lower lip into my mouth, biting down on it at the mere mention of him tasting me. My mind shifts to all the ways he could use his mouth and all the places he could taste me.

  He must sense where my thoughts have diverted as another groan emits throughout the small space. This time, it forces him to his feet, circling my desk until he’s standing over me.

  “Is that what you want? You want me to taste you?”

  I have nowhere else I can go as he pulls my hands away from my arm rests, bending down to grip them himself. His forehead is nearly pressed against mine; my eyes bounce over his face, waiting for him to give in and kiss me.

  I’m going out of my mind with how badly I want him, and judging by the smirk on his face now, he must know my resistance is starting to wear thin.

  “I told you, if I kiss you again, all bets are off.”

  His eyes stare at my neck, trailing down to where my chest heaves, before a string of curse words fly out of his mouth. It’s low, only a quiet mumble left for me to hear, but it rings clear how tied up we both are over how bad we want this.

  I clamp my legs together, forcing some friction to ease my growing arousal. My eyes break away from his for a brief moment to look down to see what has captured his attention, finding my nipples beading beneath the thin material of my chiffon dress.

  There’s no denying my reaction to being near him or how turned on he makes me just from his words alone.

  Glancing back up at him reveals his intensity, his eyes hooded, his jaw tense. We are both riding the edge of giving in; one step in either direction will make or break this between us.

  “Are you picturing me on my knees in front of you, in your office, tasting you?”

  He leans in further, pressing his cheek against mine. His breath feathers over my ear, and I tilt my head to the side, not knowing what he’s about to do but giving him better access to my neck.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sydney,” he sighs, “and so damn sexy.”

  My hands reach out, holding onto his wrists, which are planted on the arms of the chair. This move drives him forward as he leans in closer, pressing a soft kiss against the base of my neck, just below my ear.

  “You have no idea how much I want you, how badly I need to feel you wrapped around me.”

  My hands squeeze his wrists even tighter. A small thought in the back of my mind smolders on how all of this is my fault. We are both being held back by my fears, and if I let them go, he would give in to me. Yet, here we are, sitting in my office just one second away from someone walking through the door, and we haven’t even done anything to be exposed.

  Yet, anyone would be able to detect how badly I want him.

  “Colson…” I say, ready to give in. Ready to tell him to kiss me, to take me right here because I don’t give a shit anymore.

  I’m not sure what he thinks he hears in my voice, as he presses another kiss against my neck, feathering a warm breath over my wet skin for just a moment before pulling back. Only this time, he stands up, my hands release his hold when he steps back, leaving me with an ache of missing him.

  “I’m in no hurry, Sydney. I’ll have you all alone again soon, and I have no problem waiting until you’re ready.”

  He flashes me his signature smirk as he turns and walks across my office. When he reaches for the door handle, he peers over his shoulder and says, “See you on Thursday.”

  6

  Rush

  The next few days after I stopped by Sydney’s office went by quickly. With our first preseason game only days away, our practice schedule kept me busy. Leaving the gym Wednesday afternoon filled me with a renewed energy and excitement, knowing tomorrow we had a short practice in the morning, then I’d be with Sydney for the rest of the afternoon.

  I remembered Coach said Sydney would be working from home in the morning, so we made plans to meet at our apartment and drive to the clinic together.

  Every time I pass by her door, I’ve contemplated stopping to see her. The desire I saw burning in her green irises was all I could think of in the moments it was quiet and I was alone.

  We’ve only known each other for a short time, so if she wants to take this slow, we can. I’ll move at whatever pace she is comfortable with, but I still can’t deny how badly I want her when she is around. Even though she tries to say otherwise, she doesn’t do a good job of hiding how she is feeling this, too.

  The night we went for dinner at Ireland’s Pub, I remember her telling me how she preferred her coffee. She took hers with a douse of heavy cream, making it extra sweet, whereas I liked mine black.

  Clutching the to-go cups of coffee in my hands, I contemplate how I could adjust my grip on each cup to knock when the knob turns, and she opens her door in greeting.

  “Hey,” I greet, surprised. “How’d you know I was here?”

  “Just an instinct, I guess.”

  My eyes narrow at her. “You were watching through the peephole, weren’t you?”

  She bites down on her lower lip, knowing I caught her as she gives in and nods her head.

  Giving her an out, I change the subject and hold out her sugary drink. “I got you this. Thought we could both use some energy before spending the next few hours with seventy-five kids.”

  “Good point.” She giggles when our fingers touch as she takes the cup from my hand. Gauging by the slight bob of her throat as she swallows, I wonder if she felt the connec
tion between us, too.

  “Are you ready? Do you need help carrying anything?”

  She’s dressed in black running shorts, a Community Cares shirt, and black sneakers. Her hair is pulled up in one of those high bun things girls like to wear, with strands of her soft, red hair framing her face.

  She pulls the strap of her purse over her head, adjusting it over her body to sit on her hip.

  “Nope, everything is loaded up and ready to roll.”

  “How’s your knee been feeling? Looks like it’s starting to heal up now.” Her knee is free from any bandages. The wound is starting to scab over, and the bruise is fading into yellow.

  “A lot better, thank you. It was sore the first couple days, but it’s been much better since.”

  We take the elevator down to the parking garage. She hits the lock on her all-black BMW M4. I wouldn’t have expected to see her driving a sports car, but as I’m peeling back each layer of Sydney, I still find myself pleasantly surprised by the woman underneath.

  The entire drive to the Community Center, I’m itching to pick up where we left off in her office despite knowing there’s no time for that right now. Not to mention, I can’t be distracted by her. I need to be on my A-game, giving the kids 110% of my attention.

  They weren’t lying when they told us how many kids were going to be here. I’m glad they called in reinforcements when I see a couple of the coaches and the Community Center director here to help us run the event.

  The kids form a line around the outside of the gym, and we ensure everyone has a t-shirt with their nametag on. Once each of them is situated, we get everyone together in a big group.

  Sydney ran through our plans before we got here, giving me time to talk with the kids when we got started, running through a few brief talking points to cover. I’ve done this before; I’m used to being where these kids are. Growing up poor meant there were times when my mom didn’t know where she’d be getting our next meal or if she’d have the extra money for my school supplies.