by Grey, S. R.
Before Barbara takes off, she gives me a quick tutorial on how to use a program that’s installed. I can easily X out images I feel need to be replaced. She also shows me the links to the “approved” accounts. I just need to send my suggestions to IT, and they’ll take down the old photos and upload the new ones.
It seems pretty easy, even though Barbara is showing me the process on a practice screen.
Once I’m alone, I head to the actual website and navigate to the fan pages.
“Wow, there are so many pictures up on here,” I murmur as I begin scrolling through numerous fan photos.
A lot of the images are selfies of individuals or groups of people wearing Comets garb. They all look like they’re having a great time. Guess that’s why these particular shots were chosen.
There are also pics of tailgaters out in the parking lots—grilling, drinking, and having fun.
I go through and X out the ones that look a little outdated to make room for more recent ones.
Going through the pictures is enjoyable and has me smiling.
That is until I reach one particular image.
“Shit.”
I swallow hard as I realize I’m in one of the photos on the fan pages.
How could this have happened?
This is so not good.
The picture is from the one and only game I ever attended. Apparently me watching from up in the luxury box wasn’t as safe as Zane and I thought it’d be, seeing as someone clearly took a photo of me high-fiving the young girl with the high ponytail who was seated next to me that night.
I mark that one for deletion as quickly as possible.
I wish I could put a rush order on it.
But all I can do is turn in my suggestions and wait for IT to take the photo down.
I realize then there is one thing I can do—I can hope and pray Neil hasn’t ever checked out the Comets’ website.
He always did like football, though.
Crap.
We May Have a Problem
When I return home after a late afternoon practice, I find Morgan in the kitchen, still dressed in her smart pantsuit as she makes dinner.
“Mmm, it smells delicious in here,” I remark as I walk in, because damn, it does smell amazing.
“Thanks,” Morgan says quietly, not turning away from the stove where she’s stirring what looks like some kind of brown gravy. “I hope roast beef is okay. It’s in the oven but should be done soon.”
“Roast beef sounds great.” I stride over to her. “Is everything all right? How was your first day of work?”
“It was fine in terms of the actual job.” She stops stirring and finally turns to me. “But we may have a problem.”
“What kind of a problem?”
Morgan turns the burner down to simmer and motions for me to take a seat at the kitchen table.
“Um,” she says on a sigh, “you might want to be sitting down for this one.”
“Okay.” I take a seat, as does she. And then I say, “You’re worrying me here, babe. Tell me what happened.”
I have a feeling this has to do with her nasty ex, and sure enough, she says, “There’s a picture up on the Comets’ website in their fan pages section. I’m in it, Zane, and I’m worried Neil could see it.”
I grind out an aggravated, “Fuck. This could be bad.”
Morgan lets out a weary sigh. “It definitely could be.”
“You marked it for deletion, right?”
She nods. “I did, but who knows how long it’ll take IT to remove it. Even worse, how long has it been up for all to see?”
“Probably since that game,” I murmur.
Blanching, she says, “Yep, probably.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I ask her, “Do you really think your ex would be checking out the Comets’ website, though?”
Morgan shrugs. “I don’t know, but he always liked football. If he is still in town, or even keeping tabs from afar, he might.”
Placing my hand over hers, I say, “You did what you could for now, but we’re going to have to be much more careful.”
“Yeah, we’ve been slacking off. But…” Her eyes tear up. “I don’t want to have to quit my job already.”
I squeeze her hand. “I don’t think you should. The offices at the team facilities are safe. There’s security there.”
Sniffling, she says, “I noticed that. Maybe you’re right and it’ll be okay.”
“It will be,” I say. “Just be vigilant.”
“Don’t worry,” she scoffs. “I’m a pro at flying under the radar.”
Shaking my head, because it’s kind of sad, I murmur, “Yeah, you are.”
The oven chimes, indicating the roast is ready and putting an end to our disturbing discussion for now.
“We better eat,” Morgan says.
I nod. “Yeah.”
Dinner is delicious, but all I can think about is her ex possibly seeing that picture. I’m sure he has a smartphone, and one perusal of the website and he could easily come across it.
Hopefully he has no interest in the Comets.
But in case he develops one, I plan to talk with Barbara in the morning about rushing IT to take that photo down.
I’ll also need to update my private eye guy.
I tell Morgan this, and she suggests I call the detective right away, adding, “I’ll take care of the dishes.”
We usually share clean-up responsibilities, but this is too important.
“Okay.” I push out my chair and stand. “I’ll call him from the study.”
Raising a brow, Morgan asks, “Meet me in the bedroom after?”
There’s need and want in her eyes, but also something else—desperation and a desire for reassurance that everything will be all right.
I love that she knows that I can ease those concerns.
So, smiling, I tell her, “I’ll meet you there.”
I Want All of You
I need Zane. He comforts me and makes me feel safe. Spending time in his arms, or under his strong body, quells my worries.
So with everything going on, I need him now more than ever…in every way possible.
That’s why I ask him to meet me in the bedroom after his call.
While he talks to the detective in his study, I load the dishwasher.
I then go upstairs.
In the bedroom we share, I take off my business clothes, stripping down to silky red panties and a matching bra.
As I lie down on the bed and lean back on the pile of pillows, I think Zane will see I want no delays.
Except for one—when he does come upstairs, I ask him if the detective had any updates.
Eyeing me hungrily as his steel blues scan down my body, he rasps, “No.”
“Good.” I pat the bed. “Then get over here. I don’t want to think about anything but you for the next hour.”
“Hour?” he scoffs. “You better be ready for at least two.”
“More is better,” I assure him.
Zane starts over to the bed, undressing as he approaches.
There go his jeans, tech top, shoes, socks, and finally boxer briefs, freeing his massive hard cock.
“Just the way I like you,” I murmur as he crawls atop me. “Naked and ready.”
“Always,” he says. “For you, my love, I’m always ready.”
I lift and reach around to undo my bra, but Zane insists, “Let me.”
Slowly, he snakes an arm around my back and unsnaps my bra. The silky material begins to fall away, but he holds one cup in place while allowing the other to drop.
I arch into him as he sucks the uncovered nipple into his mouth.
“Mmm,” I moan. “That feels so good.”
Pushing the other silky cup aside, he plies that breast while giving the other his full attention with his glorious mouth.
Everything feels wonderful, especially when his free hand trails down my stomach and under the hem of my panties.
“Yes
ss.”
I know what comes next, and I can’t freaking wait.
Zane quickly works me to the brink. I’m writhing and moaning and saying the dirtiest things, things I know he loves to hear.
He can’t take it for long, as is my plan.
He finally yanks my panties down my legs.
I kick them aside, and he settles back on top of me. I’m so wet that it only takes one hard thrust and he’s fully sheathed.
“Zane,” I gasp.
We both still.
“I love you,” he whispers into my ear.
“I love you too.”
He starts to move, though very slowly. I let him set the pace, just savoring the feel of him filling me so completely.
There are no worries now.
There are no concerns.
It’s just Zane and me in love and showing each other how much.
Calm Before the Storm?
Everything seems okay…for now.
As the days go by, nothing bad happens, leading to a sense of maybe we were overreacting
Crazy Neil doesn’t show up, and thankfully the urgency and high level of concern we felt begin to dissipate a little.
The photo of Morgan is removed from the site, pretty much right after I talk to Barbara.
That’s one huge relief.
Morgan and I also decide that for now, she’ll do as she did before—watch the games on TV at home.
It’s just safer.
We don’t need any more random pics of her showing up anywhere.
Morgan continues to work, since, as we also discussed, there’s security there. It’s good too.
For when she’s not at work, I hire a guard for our house. His name is Grady, and he’s bigger than me. That’s saying a lot.
I tell only Lars that I have a guard, but I don’t explain specifically why we escalated. I just let him believe it’s more protection for Morgan from crazy Neil, which is the bottom line.
Since I want Grady at the house as much as possible, I give him a room with a separate entrance that’s attached to the garages. I furnish it and add a microwave and small refrigerator for his convenience.
Having personal security on the property makes me feel much more comfortable, especially when I have to go away for games.
Thankfully there are only two away games this month.
It’s now November, and I can’t believe how quickly time is passing. The days are getting shorter and the weather is much cooler. All the leaves are off the trees, which in some ways is good because visibility is better around the house.
It’s harder for someone sneaky like Neil to hide.
But it’s not impossible, hence the guard.
My detective continues to update me as well. He tells me there’s still no sign of Morgan’s asshole ex.
But I worry.
I just told Morgan that I do, a lot.
We’re taking one of our walks around the property. We still love strolling along the trails that wind through the woods.
There’s urgency today, though, and a little stress, as I have to leave tonight for one of those away games.
Fuck.
As brown, crisp leaves crunch beneath our booted feet, I sigh.
“What’s up?” Morgan asks.
I breathe out, “I just wish I could be with you every minute of every day.”
“Oh, hell, you’d get sick of me,” she teases.
I stop, turning her to face me. “First of all, that would never happen. And number two, you know what I mean.”
We begin walking again, and she states, “I know, Zane. You always want to keep me safe. You have from the start.”
“You know it, sweetheart.”
I look over and catch her smiling.
She looks so pretty today. Her auburn hair is up in a messy bun, and the cool air is turning her cheeks pink.
I like her outfit too. She has on dark jeans and the new olive green field coat she bought with her first paycheck. It matches the tan one I’m wearing.
Interlocking her arm with mine, Morgan’s smile disappears and she laments, “I’m going to miss you while you’re gone.”
“I know.” I blow out a breath. “It sucks that I have an away game. The good news, though, is it’s at noon. I’ll be back tomorrow evening.”
Looking sad, she tells me, “Still, Zane, it can’t be soon enough.”
“Babe, I feel the same way.” I pause, attempting to adopt a more upbeat tone before I add, “I figure we just need to get through this game, and then there’s one more away one at the end of the month.”
“You’re right. That’s not too bad,” she says with a forced smile.
“But it still sucks,” I murmur softly.
Shaking her head, Morgan agrees. “It does. It really does.”
Later that evening, I’m on the team’s chartered flight to Toronto to play our opponents, the Tigers, tomorrow afternoon.
Lars and I just finished a game of poker, and now, seated across from one another, we begin to put the cards away.
“So how are things going with Morgan?” he asks. “Are you two still happy and in love?”
“We are,” I reply. “Though…” I frown. “We’ve been worried lately about her ex.”
“Why do you think he could be a problem now?” he asks. “I thought your private detective told you he’s not even in town.”
“He did say that, but he can’t be completely sure. No one can. And the problem now is that there was a picture of Morgan on the website from when she attended that one game.”
“Fuck, man, that’s not good.”
“Right? That’s the real reason we added the guard. You see where I’m coming from now?”
“I do. Is that guard still staying on the premises twenty-four seven?”
“Yes.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “But even Grady has to sleep sometime.”
Lars just shakes his head. “Dude.”
Our flight arrives in Toronto, and our team checks into a local hotel.
I can’t sleep for shit, so I call Morgan, like, a million times.
Okay, not a million, but it’s still a lot.
“How’s it going?” I ask when she picks up at midnight. “Any change?”
Yawning, she says, “None since the last time you called, which was—” I hear her holding her phone out to check the time. “—twenty-five minutes ago.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and ask, “You have all the alarms on, right?”
“I do.”
“And Grady is there?”
“He’s down in his room, yes. I checked in with him before I came upstairs.”
“Good, good.” She yawns again, and I say, “You sound tired.”
“I am. I was just about to fall asleep.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”
“Call me in the morning?” she asks.
“You know it.”
Quietly, she murmurs, “Zane, I love you.”
“I love you too. I can’t wait to be back tomorrow night.”
Before we disconnect, she murmurs, “Trust me, I’m counting down the hours.”
I don’t share that I’m doing that too.
And since it’s after midnight now, there are less than twenty-four to go.
If only I could make the clock move faster.
Gotcha
The night is uneventful. I sleep okay, but not as well as I do when Zane is at home with me.
Oh, well.
“I’ll just have to drink lots of coffee today,” I declare once morning arrives and I’m yawning and stretching, still in bed.
However, a problem arises.
After I shower and dress and head downstairs, I discover that we’re almost out of coffee.
“Crap, this isn’t good.”
As I stand in the kitchen, tapping my sneakered foot, I decide I could always ask Grady if he has any coffee he can spare.
Grady i
s super tall and super blond. He looks like a gladiator or something. He’s so huge and loaded with muscle that even Zane looks kind of small next to him.
And he’s totally not.
A few minutes later, I’m knocking tentatively on the door that leads from the garages to Grady’s room.
There’s an outside entrance as well, so he doesn’t have to disturb us when he’s doing perimeter safety checks.
I hadn’t thought of it, but I hope he’s not out on one of those runs now.
He’s not, phew.
Mr. Gladiator swings open the door.
After some pleasantries and him asking, “Is everything okay?” I assure him I’m fine and tell him of my coffee dilemma.
“Do you have any you can spare?” I ask.
“I hate to disappoint you,” he tells me, “but sorry, no. I don’t have any coffee since I don’t drink the stuff.”
My brows shoot up. “What? Like ever at all?”
Chuckling, he confirms, “Nope, never.”
I sigh and tap my foot. “Damn.”
While I contemplate if it’d be safe to make a quick run to the store, Grady says, “I was planning on doing a little shopping right after the game. I have a few things I’m out of as well. If you can wait till then, I’ll grab you your coffee. I’m going to be quick about it, as I don’t want to leave you alone for long.”
I nod excitedly. “Yes, I’ll be fine on my own for a short while. And, man, that would be great to have coffee after the game. I think I have enough to last till then, but I definitely want to be up when Zane gets home.”
Grady says, “Okay,” but then he eyes me gravely. “Only thing is I’m going to have to ask that you remain in the house while I’m gone, with all the alarm systems fully armed, of course.”
“Yes.” I nod. “I can do that. I was planning to anyway.”
“Good.”
A short while later, I’m in the living room watching the game on TV with my last cup of hot coffee in hand.
After I take a small sip, I lean forward and set the cup on the coffee table. I then tuck my black leggings-covered legs up under me on the sofa.
The Comets are down by a touchdown, and it’s early in the third quarter. But we just intercepted the ball and are setting up on our own forty-yard line.