Touchdowns and Tiaras: The Complete Boxed Set

by Sosie Frost

  “That’s a lot of room for a bed.”

  “At one point I thought that’s all I needed to make it a home.”

  Piper peeked further into the hall. “It’s not?”

  Why the fuck was I talking? “Look, it’s great that you stopped by to get in my way—”

  “I’m trying to help your career.”

  “It doesn’t need help.”

  She could see past my shoulder and glanced at the wall-sized television in the den. It paused on the worst headline of the newscast.

  Cole Hawthorne – The League’s Dirtiest Player?

  “Oh, sure.” Piper nodded. “Your career has never been better.”

  “Tell me, beautiful.” I crossed my arms. “Do you know anything about this game?”

  “Enough.”

  “Really? Is the Monarch defense 3-4 or a 4-3? Do I play nickel on third downs? Am I a better pass rusher or blitzer?”

  Piper quieted to hold my stare. “Will any of it matter if the Monarchs’ cut you?”

  “I’m not signing a damn thing.”

  “And I’m not leaving until you do.”

  Stupider words had never been spoken.

  “Wanna run that by me again, little girl?”

  She stood her ground. Maybe she wasn’t brave, just foolish. “I’ve been very patient with you, Mr. Hawthorne.”

  “Don’t I pay you?” I edged closer to her. “Maybe it’s time you realize that I’m in charge here. This is my choice.”

  “With all due respect—”

  “—You’re giving me none—”

  “This deal is important to both of us. I’d advise you to listen to reason.”

  Piper couldn’t intimidate me, but her beauty would stop my heart. Not much to pump when it all pooled below the belt.

  I shouldn’t have liked her game, but I was never one to back away from a challenge.

  “And if I refuse?” I asked.

  “Then I will just wait here until you come to your senses.”

  And with that, her feet planted. Not like I couldn’t rip the little daisy out of my foyer, but she wasn’t leaving without a fight.

  What the hell was happening? Did I stroke out during practice? It had been a hot day.

  “Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re going to stay here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “In my house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Until I surrender to this deal?”

  “You got it.”

  I’d never heard anything so fucking ridiculous in my life. “You realize I could pick you up and toss your ass outside?”

  Piper cleared her throat. “I will concede that it is a possibility.”

  “And what if I don’t kick you out?” I lowered my voice. “What if I take your offer? Keep you here?”

  “I’m not your type.”

  “Didn’t say we were picking out rings, beautiful. Just a good ol’ pre-dinner fuck.”

  Piper wasn’t swayed. “You chose me to act as your representation.”

  “At the time, I liked you better than your father. Not so sure now.”

  “Then you know it wouldn’t be proper to fraternize in a non-professional manner.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk,” I said. “I just want you to give me a little more of that stubborn lip.”

  “A man like you wouldn’t want my complications.”

  That I believed, and it frustrated me. A beautiful woman barged into my home, but my balls would stay as blue as my uniform.

  “All right.” I extended my arms. “Wanna play this game? Fine.”

  Piper frowned. “Fine?”

  “You want to pretend to be tough? Stay here and intimidate me.” I waved over the house. “Be my guest.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You aren’t leaving, and you won’t humor me with one little blowjob. So have it your way. I’m going to start my workout. You can stay here and dig out the trenches.”

  Piper’s voice hardened. “Mr. Hawthorne, we have a lot to discuss. Just listen to my proposition—”

  “Unless that proposition includes, but is not limited to, oral sex and a good fucking, I’m not interested.”

  “You are an even bigger asshole than everyone said.”

  Now the kitty scratched. “I’m not the one trespassing in a linebacker’s house.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I headed to my weight room without looking back to see her reaction.

  She’d be gone in fifteen minutes. An hour at the most. No one was stubborn enough to loiter in a stranger’s foyer just to make a business deal. She’d get tired of waiting and then concoct another insane scheme to get that waiver signed.

  But I’d never let her win. I had enough people trying to control me—coaches, media, the league. I didn’t need some ball-clenchingly beautiful “agent” getting in my way.

  There was a reason I was known as The Beast, and it wasn’t the bones I broke and blood I spilled. I didn’t do well in a cage. I couldn’t be controlled. And I wouldn’t tolerate anyone invading my life.

  The lifting routine was too demanding on my body so close to a game, but I forced myself through it. The intensity and pain was the only thing that controlled the monster inside me—the loathsome fury that suffocated me in bad decisions, hatred, and rage.

  It used to be easier to control, but now that anger escaped the field and invaded my life. I had to beat my body into submission just to contain it. Every day, I exhausted myself on the machines or used the weights to rip my muscles to shreds until I was too tired to cause any harm.

  But the workouts only made me stronger.

  More dangerous.

  Three grueling hours passed as I tortured myself with leg work, bench pressing, cardio, and pain. I tore myself to pieces, clawing and raging at punching bags to become stronger, more indestructible. And once the sweet agony of the workout ached through my bones, I felt halfway…normal.

  I showered and dragged myself back to the kitchen for something to eat. I hadn’t bothered to dress, and my towel dropped at the fridge. I reached for the mineral water.

  Piper shrieked.

  Son of a—

  I dropped the glass bottle. It crashed on my foot before shattering against the kitchen floor.

  The pain blinded me. Good. I didn’t have a fight-or-flight instinct. Every muscle in my body tensed to kill.

  Piper was goddamned lucky to be alive.

  “What the fuck are you still doing here?” I yelled. “Why are you sneaking up on a linebacker?”

  My shout echoed over the house. Even that wasn’t enough to get her attention. Piper’s gaze fell low. She stared at my cock.

  And, like the animal I was, it throbbed under her attention.

  “I…I wasn’t…” She stumbled over her words, tilting her head like she had never seen a naked man before. Then again, not many had women seen dick like mine.

  I wasn’t modest, but Piper froze in embarrassment. Hell, I wasn’t sure she was still breathing. I’d help the girl out.

  But shards of glass nestled in my towel. Hell no. I wasn’t about to give myself a homemade circumcision two days before the season opener.

  Instead, I reached for the closest scrap of material I could find. A dishrag rested on the ledge of the sink. I draped it over me. Piper stood at the edge of the kitchen, her voice a polite squeak.

  “Um…I can still see the…uh, crown.”

  And what a regal mistake that was. I had no idea why I was trying to cover myself to protect the damn trespasser in my own castle, but I rooted through my kitchen drawers. My private chef left some of her own equipment. I grabbed her oven mitts.

  White and red. Checker-print. Shaped like a goddamned rooster.

  How was sodomizing a chicken any better than walking around naked? I tucked inside the mitt, but my body decided that Piper’s shock was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I hardened, and it’d ta
ke a dozen therapists to figure out why. But the league hadn’t mandated me to visit a shrink yet, so I wouldn’t question a good old rage boner.

  Fortunately for Piper, a bare ass tempered most of my anger.

  “If I get glass in my cock…” I warned. “You’re going to see a different side of the beast.”

  Piper covered her eyes. “Trust me. I’ve seen all the sides of you now.”

  “Get out of the kitchen before you get cut on the glass.”

  “Well…speaking of getting cut—”

  I pointed to the cock hiding my cock. “Does this look like a good time to talk business?”

  Piper thought better of pushing me. She resumed her sentry in my foyer while I hobbled through the kitchen and swept the shattered glass into the trash.

  “What the hell are you still doing here?” I shouted to the entryway.

  Piper answered like the invasion was obvious. “I told you. I’m not leaving until you agree to the trade.”

  “First you break my damn doorbell.” I sopped up the spilled water with a wad of paper towels. The cut on my foot wasn’t bad, but I was lucky I didn’t lose a fucking toe to the busted bottle. “Then you decide to invade my house. You sneak up on me when I’m naked and nearly castrate me.”

  I finished with the mess and faced her in the hall.

  “What’s next? Waterboarding? Maybe some testicular torsion until I do as you say?”

  “You’re being a little melodramatic.”

  “Yeah, a man tends to wax poetic with his junk swaying in the breeze.” I glanced her over. “Either I put pants on, or you take yours off.”

  Piper pretended she wasn’t interested. “I’ll wait here while you change.”

  I saw that coming. I choked the damn chicken mitt and pitched it into the kitchen. My hardened cock fit into my sweats, but I wasn’t happy.

  It was five o’clock. Little Miss Madison had an hour and a half until my gate closed for the night. I wasn’t in the mood for a slumber party, not unless she planned to get my pants off again.

  I faced her once more, crossing my arms. This game was over.

  “It’s time for you to leave, beautiful.”

  “I realize I’m overstaying my welcome.”

  “You were never welcome.”

  “But this is important. So if it takes me standing here, skipping lunch and dinner—”

  I interrupted her. “You haven’t eaten?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did you even leave the entryway?”

  “No.”

  Freak. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” she said.

  I grinned. That was how to get rid of her.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed my favorite pizza place. At least I was bulking. A pound of chicken breast and brown rice didn’t sound good tonight anyway.

  “Two large pizzas,” I ordered. Piper’s eyes lit up. “Pepperoni.”

  The restaurant took my information, but I winked at my salivating intruder.

  “Hope you packed a bag lunch.”

  Her eyes narrowed as the realization dawned on her. “I’ll manage.”

  “Don’t want you to pass out on my porch. Won’t help my reputation.”

  “And to think…I actually defended you to the office.”

  “That was your first mistake.” I winked, heading back to the den. “Don’t try to befriend a beast.”

  I waited the thirty minutes for my pizza, layering band-aids over the cut on my foot and turning up the volume on the sportscast so I couldn’t imagine the sound of her rumbling stomach from the foyer.

  She had to eat sometime, and she had to leave to do it. She’d go. All I had to do was wait her out.

  Or throw her out.

  Fire her goddamned agency and find new representation.

  Then again, who would take me? If Ainsley Ruport and Sports Nation were right, the Monarchs would cut me by the end of the season. That meant I needed an agent. I was stuck with them. Good thing Piper and her father wouldn’t walk away from a couple million in commission.

  It was a stalemate—taking place in my goddamned doorway.

  I didn’t hear the delivery driver’s knock. Piper had to yell for me.

  “Your dinner is here.”

  I silently added the asshole she was too polite to say. She was kind enough to answer the door though. I tossed a hundred bucks at the driver without a word and took my food.

  Piper’s nose practically followed me to the kitchen, but she wasn’t the type to beg. In fact, she’d expect a formal invitation to my unused dining room with all the fancy china set out and a fine musical accompaniment to her meal.

  Wasn’t happening.

  Piper checked her phone as I prepared a plate with steaming, gooey, thick slices of greasy pizza. A gentleman might have eaten in privacy.

  But I was no gentleman.

  And Piper was a lady dancing a jig in the foyer. She paced on the balls of her feet, occasionally giving a little hop.

  So she was hungry and needed to piss.

  Perfect.

  I ate my dinner in front of her, teasing Piper with a huge bite of my pizza.

  “Do you always watch sportscasts about yourself?” Piper couldn’t be tough, not while dancing her weight from one leg to the other.

  “I’m a…popular guy in the league at the moment.”

  “So it’s coincidence? Here I thought you were a raging narcissist.”

  “Glad I could allay your fears.”

  “Yeah, it helps. It’s easier to negotiate if I have the proper opinion of you.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me.” I savored a bite too big for my mouth. She actually licked her lips. “And I doubt you’d care.”

  “Why? Not much under the surface?”

  “Too much for you to handle.”

  “Don’t assume muscles make someone tough, Mr. Hawthorne.”

  “Don’t assume they make a man dumb, Miss Madison.”

  Piper stiffened, an impressive accomplishment for a woman in her predicament. “I never said—”

  “I’m not interested in what you’re thinking. I just like watching you squirm. Only one thing would make it better.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A bit of refreshment.”

  Piper shouted to me as I stalked to the kitchen. “You know, this could all be over in like, ten seconds if you would listen to me.”

  I returned only to drink sip my water while she watched. “Could be over sooner if you leave.”

  Piper didn’t look at the water. She ducked her head and continued her dance around my foyer.

  Ridiculous.

  No. Cute.

  “This game isn’t all about dollar signs,” I said.

  “It’ll be about big, fat overdrawn checks if the Monarchs cut you.”

  “Not worried about it.” I sloshed the water in the cup. “I’ve been the league’s defensive MVP for all three seasons of my career. I’m too valuable to lose.”

  “Willing to risk everything for it?”

  “Either I play this game the way I want, or the league doesn’t have a place for me.” I met her gaze. “If the Monarchs think I’m too aggressive and agree with that Ainsley Ruport prick, whatever. I’m not changing my style—not how I go after a quarterback and not the damn uniform I’m wearing.”

  “You’d really walk away from your dream?” Piper stopped bouncing. “You have an opportunity to do something you love. Won’t you sacrifice anything for it?”

  “If I love it, why would I sacrifice a damn thing?”

  “To protect it.”

  I snorted. “I don’t compromise.”

  “No wonder you’re all alone in this big house.”

  “Maybe I prefer it that way.”

  “Or maybe no one would compromise themselves to stay here with you?”

  That was the moment she officially overstayed her welcome.

  I didn’t get pissed. Didn’t yell. Didn’t bre
ak eye-contact with her.

  Despite my reputation, I wasn’t normally this cruel.

  I held my glass high and slowly tipped it just enough to tease a trickle of water from my glass. The water slipped over the lip and drizzled to the floor six and a half feet below.

  It struck the tile with a satisfying piddle.

  And I had won.

  Piper groaned. She crossed her legs and practically snarled.

  “Fine, I’m leaving.” She grimaced and twisted at the waist. “But I’m not going because I’ve given up. I’m leaving because…because I have very poor bladder control these days.”

  “Uh—”

  She fidgeted toward the door. “I’ll be back.”

  I laughed. “I’ll be sure to lock up the breakables.”

  Piper huffed. She shouldered her purse and stiffly bolted to her car. I slammed the door behind her.

  Alone.

  Finally.

  But this was only the first battle. Piper entrenched herself for a goddamned war.

  I wasn’t stupid. The Monarchs wanted to be rid of me. My career hung in the balance, and the only one who could protect it was the one woman who didn’t know the difference between offense and defense, quarterbacks and receivers, princes and beasts.

  But I refused to get traded. I wouldn’t let her control me. And I wasn’t going to imagine her dancing in my foyer, no matter how goddamned beautiful she was.

  But even I wasn’t strong enough to deny wishing that Piper had stayed.

  5

  Piper

  “Just fucking marry me, Piper! Do you know how many women would kill for this chance?”

  Even in the middle of a proposal, Jasper had an uncanny ability to kiss his own ass.

  I considered hanging up on him, but my nerves were already grated into a shredded mess of forgotten dreams and homicidal urges—the Jasper classic.

  I parked outside of Cole’s mansion and gritted my teeth. Now Jasper decided to return my call? Of course he hadn’t answered when I actually needed him. Saturday morning was a terrible time to ask Mrs. Potter to pull an overtime shift with Rose…especially when it was supposed to be Jasper’s one day with his daughter a month.

  He hadn’t asked about her once during the five minutes he took to shame me into marrying him.

  “Are you proposing because you want a relationship?” The thought made me gag. “Or is this because you’re tired of owing child support?”