Nixon: A Raleigh Raptors Novel

by Whiskey, Samantha

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it has to do with you leading me away from public on a property as old as time with no indication as to why. Also, I just totally got all territorial with that cheerleader back there, and I’m sure that wasn’t very attractive—”

  My words died when we rounded a cropping of trees to find a secluded little fountain flickering under the moonlight. Nixon guided us to one of three hand-carved wooden benches lining the fountain, settling me next to him.

  “I just wanted to get you to myself for a minute,” he said.

  I shifted my legs toward him. “So, I’m not in trouble?”

  He rolled his eyes, stroking his fingers along the back of my hand. I squeezed our intertwined fingers. “You keep asking that,” he said. “Do you want to be in trouble?”

  Something about the way he posed that question made heat pool in my core.

  “No,” I said, slightly breathless. “But I didn’t mean to…overstep—"

  “By telling off someone who clearly needed to be put in her place?”

  “By claiming you,” I said, biting my lip. “When you’re not mine to claim.”

  “Ah,” he said, tilting his head to look at the clear night sky above us. The silence stretched between us like a taut string.

  “Just because you’re the baby’s doesn’t mean you're mine,” I tried to clarify when I couldn’t take the quiet anymore. “I should’ve thought of that before I ran my mouth—”

  “Your mouth,” he cut me off, taking my chin gently between his fingers. “Is one of my favorite things about you.” He slowly brought his lips down on mine, the kiss hungry, fast, and enough to make my head spin. He drew back only enough to meet my gaze. “The way you held your own against her,” he said. “That brilliant mind of yours, the way you see things no one else bothers to look for…” he sighed. “You’re incredible, Liberty.” He kissed me again, and I fisted his suit jacket to tug him closer.

  “I’m not the incredible one, Nix,” I said between kisses. “You are. The humble way you navigate this lifestyle, the gracious way you handle your fans, the love you have for your team, and the way you can be gentle as hell with me and ferocious on the field…it’s all so amazing. You’re more than I could’ve ever dreamed, Nixon Noble, and I know we aren’t the best at communicating. I know we’re on a fast track to get to know each other because of this…” I smoothed my hand over the swell of my belly. “But you deserve to know just how phenomenal you are. From someone who doesn’t have a stake in your life that is tied to money or touchdowns.” I swallowed hard, my chest uncoiling a bit at the admission I’d held back the last week.

  Nixon’s hands slid to my hips, urging me, guiding me until I easily straddled him. Chest to chest, I could barely catch my breath between the searing heat of his kiss.

  “I’m not just the baby’s,” he said, his breath ragged. “I’m yours,” he said, his eyes open and raw and utterly serious as he looked up at me. “If you’ll have me.”

  I swallowed hard, emotion clogging my throat. “You mean that?” I whispered.

  He nodded, and I swore he might’ve been holding his breath for how still he went under me.

  “You want to be…exclusive. Official. With me?” I hated the doubt in my voice.

  Nixon slid his hands up my back, drawing me against him as he held my gaze. “Only you,” he said. “I know I have my demons,” he said. “I know I come with a hard lifestyle. And I’ll understand if you don’t want to tie yourself to a life like that—”

  I crushed my lips on his, silencing his doubts. I tangled my fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss as I rocked against him. “I want you,” I said against his mouth.

  “Here?” he teased.

  “Yes,” I admitted and rolled my hips over his. “But I also want this. With you. All of it. I’m yours, too, you know.”

  His grip on me tightened, sending tremors of heat rippling over my skin. “Say it again,” he demanded, claiming my mouth with his.

  “I’m yours,” I breathed, my heart racing as the declaration soared through the very center of me. “Nixon,” I gasped when I felt just how hard he was beneath me. And then he slid his hands up and under the hem of my dress, his calloused hands rough over the smooth skin of my thighs. His kissed turned carnal as his fingers slipped beneath the lace covering my center, and his fingers were instantly soaked with me. He growled, and I whimpered as he teased my clit, winding me up like a tight string ready to snap.

  “Nixon,” I said again, breaking our kiss to catch my breath. He rolled his fingers over me, sliding them between my heat, and I rocked against him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his tone rough. “So goddamn perfect.” He slid one finger inside me, then two, pumping them in time with my swaying hips as the need for him consumed me.

  “You,” I said, half-moan, half-plea. “I need you,” I said, and I shifted above him until he’d drawn his hand back. I reached for his zipper, unfastening it quickly. I sighed as I gripped his hard length in my hand, and Nixon growled, his dark eyes widening at my demands.

  “You sure?” he asked, his breath ragged as I fisted him. “The party—”

  “I don’t care if you don’t,” I said and guided his hard cock to the center of me, teasing his head with my wetness.

  Flames danced in his eyes, those dark depths churning with want. I didn’t care that I could still hear the faint sounds of the string quartet playing for the gala behind us. I didn’t care that someone could wander the same path we had in search of a moment of seclusion. I didn’t care about anything in that moment but the need for this man—this exquisite, incredibly kind and strong man who’d turned my world upside down in the most perfect way.

  “Liberty,” he practically growled as I shifted atop him. “Fuck, Liberty,” he hissed as I sank on top of his gloriously hard length in one slick motion. His fingers gently dug into my hips, the bite sending jolts of electricity along each of my nerves.

  I took him to the hilt only to lift up and sink down and do it all over again. I kept one hand fisted in his hair, the other braced on his broad shoulder for support. Nixon leaned his head back, his eyes guttering.

  “I love watching you fuck me,” he said, his grip tightening as I rocked against him, chasing our pleasure with each roll of my hips. “God, Liberty, you’re fucking amazing.” He thrust up as I slammed home and everything in my body coiled like a spring.

  “Nixon,” I moaned, trying like hell to not cry out as that spiraling heat pushed me closer and closer to that sweet edge.

  “Come with me,” he demanded, his tone absolutely primal as he flicked his tongue over the seam of my lips. I lifted and sank, and he met me move for move until I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe around the feel of him, around the flames licking my skin, the heat pulsing in my body. “That’s it,” he said, feeling me clench tighter around him.

  His fingers bit into my hips, a sweet burst of pain through the pleasure as he thrust upward, and I splintered into a million pieces. He found his own release as my body flew apart around him, and he covered my mouth with his own, drinking the cries that would’ve no doubt reached the party occurring not far away. Devouring me through the aftershocks of the orgasm, working me down in gentle strokes and soft sweeps of his tongue until all I could do was rest my forehead against his and breathe him in.

  Slowly, the world returned around us.

  The sound of the violin filtering through the air.

  Undistinguishable conversations and clinks of glasses.

  And Nixon, grinning up at me like he’d be happy to sit here forever.

  But I knew we couldn’t do that, not with friends and teammates and coaches and a governor waiting for us back in reality. So, I lifted off of him and slid my lace back into place, standing to adjust my dress. He quickly fixed himself, zipping up his pants, and standing to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear.

  “Do I look okay?” I asked as we made our way back toward the party.

  “
You’re perfect,” he said.

  We’d barely made it two steps back into the main gardens when Coach Goodman stopped us with a clap on Nixon’s back. “Wonderful event,” he said. “Don’t you think?” he asked, indicating the party that was in full swing before us.

  Nixon spared me a mischievous look before returning his focus to his coach. “I can honestly say I’ve never enjoyed a charity event more than this one.”

  My knees damn near wobbled at the words, and I suddenly found myself eager for the party to end, and for our night at home to begin.

  13

  Nixon

  “Right this way.” The maître d gave us a professional smile, then led us through the swanky Los Angeles restaurant.

  I brushed my thumb over the zipper of Liberty’s red dress, keeping my hand on the small of her back. It had only been five days since we’d decided to be exclusive, which seemed ridiculous since everything just…clicked with us. She already lived with me and had been sleeping in my bed for a few weeks, but she hadn’t moved her stuff out of the guest room closet yet.

  Damn, she looked good in this dress. It was short, clung to her curves, and had made me drool the second she put it on. We wouldn’t have made it to dinner on time if everyone else hadn’t been expecting us. Hell, we wouldn’t have made it at all. She’d hit the halfway mark in her pregnancy yesterday, and she’d never looked better. There was a radiance in her smile, a glow to her skin, and her curves were lush and so damn grabbable. I moved my hand up her back just to make sure I didn’t slip it down to her ass while we were in public.

  “A private section?” she asked softly as the maître d ushered us up the small set of steps and onto a roped-off dais above the other diners.

  “It’s easier this way,” I said against her ear. “Helps us avoid what happened the last time we went out.”

  She nodded as we all filed around the round table.

  I pulled out her chair, then took the seat next to her. Teagan claimed the chair next to Liberty’s, and Rick sat on Teagan’s free side. Roman took the one on my left, then Savannah, who had asked if she could tag along to get some time away from the hotel. Hendrix sank into the chair between her and Rick.

  “I can’t believe you,” the redhead muttered, picking up her menu. “We weren’t even inside the door, and you were already hitting on the hostess.”

  “Would you rather I have started outside?” Hendrix quipped, grabbing his own menu.

  Our waitress appeared, took one look around the table and flushed. Then she took a breath and our drink orders as professionally as possible. One good thing about being in LA is that everyone was used to celebrities. We weren’t quite as sparkly and special here and generally got left the hell alone.

  “You sure the flight was okay?” I asked Liberty for the third time since she’d arrived at the hotel with Teagan a couple of hours ago. “I hate that you can’t fly with the team.” It had been a pleasant surprise to realize just how easy she was to travel with. Some of the guys had horror stories about the demands their girlfriends placed on them when they flew to away games.

  “It was fine,” she assured me. “For crying out loud, you flew me first class.” She shook her head, just like she had when I’d given her the ticket. “Such a freaking—”

  “Extravagance,” I finished for her, having heard it before. Then I kissed her lips softly. “I just wanted to make you as comfortable as possible.”

  “Oh, trust me, we were comfortable,” Teagan added. “Thank you, baby,” she said to Rick.

  “Rick Baker’s girl doesn’t fly coach,” he answered with a grin and kissed her. “Only the best for you.”

  Teagan giggled and kissed him again.

  “God, I wish you girls had flown with us,” Savannah muttered, adjusting the lapels on her blue jacket that matched her equally blue pants, which I had noted were tight enough to make her sneak past Coach while he wasn’t watching. Her hair was up, her big hoop earrings sparkled, and there was a full, but tasteful face of makeup on her. Huh. Somewhere along the line, the little girl on the sideline had grown up to be a beautiful woman. I glanced around the table at the hulking mass of guys and pitied the man who fell for her.

  We were a hell of a line to get through, and I had no problem switching to defense for Savannah. She was the closest thing I had to a kid sister.

  “Oh, come on, we’re not that bad to fly with,” Hendrix snorted, looking back over his shoulder at the diners a level below.

  “Yeah, we are.” Roman grinned.

  “Why don’t you fly back with us?” Liberty offered, then sputtered. “Oh god, sorry, Nixon, I wasn’t trying to spend your money or anything.”

  The entire table laughed.

  “Honey, I’ve told you, unless you’re out there buying houses, you can’t possibly spend what I make in a day. You know that credit card I gave you for maternity clothes? Use it for whatever you want. Feel free to buy Savannah a ticket. Just…” I tilted my head as a smile teased my lips. “Just don’t be shocked when she’s not allowed to fly back with you anyway.”

  “Okay, we’re going to talk about that whole card thing later,” Liberty said to me, then turned toward Savannah. “You wouldn’t be allowed to fly back with us?” Her brow knit in concern.

  Hendrix leaned back in his chair and gave a blonde at the table below the nod.

  Savannah followed his line of sight and rolled her eyes, then pushed him slightly, causing him to nearly lose his balance on the back legs.

  “Fuck!” he hissed, but righted his chair and glared at Savannah.

  “My dad would throw a colossal shit fit.” Savannah shrugged, answering Liberty’s question and completely ignoring the fact that she’d nearly taken Hendrix out.

  Liberty’s jaw dropped. “Isn’t that…” She shook her head. “You know what, it’s not my business. Sorry, I’m finishing up my doctorate in psychology, and sometimes my brain just runs away on me.”

  “It’s okay,” Savannah assured her. “I bet you’re thinking it’s controlling, right?”

  Liberty’s blush answered for her, and I stretched my arm across the back of her chair, then ran my thumb over the soft skin of her exposed shoulder to reassure her.

  “It is,” Savannah admitted, “but it’s not. If I really wanted to go with you guys, he’d let me. My parents had this whole fairytale marriage thing, but Mom died in a car accident when I was five, and ever since then, he’s been a bit of a hoverer.”

  “A bit?” Roman laughed. “Your dad would move you back in with him if he could. Then he’d have the entire defensive line escort you on every date.”

  “True. But it’s all out of love,” she argued. “Besides,” she said to Liberty, “I’m majoring in sports management over in Chapel Hill, so I’ll take every second I can get with the team. There’s no one else in my class who gets the kind of access I do.”

  “Speaking of access, don’t you think that neckline is a little low?” Hendrix snapped.

  “Speaking of blondes, aren’t your standards a little low?” She took a sip of her ice water.

  The guys around the table all groaned collectively at her burn while Hendrix shook it off with an exaggerated roll of his eyes before going back to long-distance flirting with the woman in the lower level.

  Roman excused himself for the restroom just before our waitress showed up to take the orders, so I started, giving him time to make it back. Liberty ordered, then Rick ordered Teagan a salad, which had every head at the table swinging his direction. When the hell had he started ordering her food for her?

  Teagan nodded along, and by the time Roman got back, the waitress was ready for his order.

  “So, what’s the deal with you?” Rick asked as he slathered a piece of butter onto a roll. “You staying with the Raptors next year or what?”

  “Dude, that’s confidential,” Hendrix warned Rick as he slid his roll over to Savannah, who’d already eaten hers.

  “According to ESPN, you want more money.” Rick�
��s eyebrows rose. “What, being the highest-paid quarterback in the NFL not good enough for you anymore? Or you pissed about the franchise tag they slapped on you?”

  Liberty stiffened.

  “It has nothing to do with the money and all about the length of the contract,” I said quietly.

  “Well, yeah. You’re thirty, which is approaching your expiration date.” Rick took Teagan’s bread and buttered it, too.

  Guess he wasn’t always a dick.

  “Really?” Liberty asked, concern putting little lines between her eyebrows.

  “Most guys at my level retire in their mid-thirties,” I told her. “At most, I’ve got ten years left, I’d guess.”

  “And you want those ten with us, right?” Roman confirmed. “Because we’ve heard about the other teams sniffing around.”

  “Yeah. Nothing would make me happier than staying a Raptor for my whole career, but when push comes to shove…” I shrugged.

  “When push comes to shove, you’ll follow the money,” Rick said. “We all will.” He shoved Teagan’s bread into his mouth and ate it.

  Still a dick.

  Liberty’s jaw ticked, but Teagan shook her head slightly.

  “So, what happens if you don’t get the terms you want?” Liberty asked.

  “If we can’t come to terms, I’ll have to sign with another team,” I said slowly, hating the sound the words made coming out of my mouth. I didn’t want another team. I’d been a first-round draft pick by the Raptors, and that’s where I wanted to spend the rest of my career.

  “You going to pick up and move with him if that happens?” Rick asked Liberty.

  Her eyes widened, and her gaze met mine with an edge of panic. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  I slid my arm from the back of her chair and cupped her face. “It’s nothing you have to worry about. And if it comes to that, we’ll have that discussion then, okay?” Shit, I’d barely gotten the woman to agree to a relationship with me. I wasn’t about to lay hypothetical problems at her feet.

  Besides, Rick was wrong. When push came to shove, I’d do what was best for my baby, not my bank account.