Great.
“Oh em gee! I am so sorry, Slug.” I try not to flinch at the nickname. “I didn’t see you there.”
Sure you didn’t.
“Whatever. Wanna dance?”
I don’t even glance at her or wait for her to answer, my eyes are too busy tracking Denver through the room.
My blood boils when Cade slips his arms around her waist. I do the same thing to the girl in my arms because if I don’t, I’m going to fucking lose it.
Denny’s gaze finds me again. Why does she have to keep looking over here?
I see it, even from across the room—I see the hate and the rage burning through her.
Good, Den. Good.
Cade nuzzles her neck. I mimic him. Everything he does to Denny, I do to the girl in my arms. She hates it, physically hates him touching her. I can see from here she wishes it were me.
She wants me like I want her, and I want her a whole hell of a lot.
I realize in that moment I have to follow through with this, because Denver Andrews could fucking break me.
She pushes free of Cade again, sending him a smile and then running from the room.
I waste no time chasing after her. I have to make sure I take this all the way.
I find her standing at the bottom of the stairs, and everything inside me screams that I should go to her and wrap her in my arms and take away all the pain.
But I don’t.
Instead I say, “You should leave.”
She spins around, mouth dropping open in surprise.
“L-Leave?” It comes out a strangled whisper. “What do you mean? I just came out here to breathe, not to leave.”
“I meant what I said.” She studies me hard, long enough to know I’m not joking but not long enough to know I’m lying, internally pleading for her to stay. “You should leave,” I repeat.
“Why?”
“Because I fucking said so.”
I cannot believe this is happening, can’t believe I’m doing this.
I was wrong. This was wrong.
It hurts. It fucking hurts and it wasn’t supposed to hurt. This was supposed to prevent the pain, not ignite it.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks quietly, barely holding back tears. “Did I do something wrong?”
I drop my gaze from hers, knowing I need to before her tears break me down. “We both knew this was coming.”
“Did w-we?” Her voice cracks, and I hate that it cracks. “Because I sure didn’t expect this. I came out here for you—for us…for dibs. We’ve talked about this for months. I most certainly did not expect this.”
My eyes fall closed for a moment, and a future where Denver leaves me flashes through my mind.
That pain is much worse than this pain.
“You did, Denver.”
The use of her full name startles her; I know by the way her breaths quicken.
“You knew I wasn’t cut out for commitment from the beginning,” I push on, and the longer I talk, the angrier she gets. “Whatever you built this up to in your head is your own fault. I can’t do this.” I flick my finger between us, driving the point home. “Whatever this was, it’s over.”
The fury blazes in her eyes.
Good. Be angry. Hate me, Den. Hate me like I hate me right now.
And she does. She hates me. I can see it.
Without another word, she turns on her heel and continues down the walkway.
“I mean it, Denver. This is over.”
I can’t tell if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
“I heard you loud and clear…Slug.”
My breath hitches, and I know she hears it.
She did it. She called me Slug.
I know in that moment. I know.
Cap and Bucky? We’re officially done.
And the pain is everything I didn’t want.
25
Shepard
“You got us locked in a closet because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants!”
“I didn’t hear you complaining a few minutes ago when said dick was inside you. All I heard was lots of moaning and heavy breathing, maybe a few cries for ‘more’.”
She smacks at my chest and I laugh, causing her to strike at me again.
I don’t understand how she can be upset right now. What we just did? That was mind-blowing.
I should be committed to the crazy house because I have no fucking clue how I spent so many years not touching her.
“Murder, Shep! I will murder you!” Denny bangs on the door. “Help! I’m going to murder him, and I am way too cute for jail!”
“So dramatic.” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Let me see if Braxton is still here.”
I pull my phone out, scroll through the contacts, and tap his name just as the overhead light flicks to life.
“Goddamn, woman!” I shield my eyes. “That’s bright!”
“Well?”
“Well what, you impatient little shit? It’s still ringing.”
Denny huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot. I can’t help but laugh at her again. She looks so fucking cute when she’s upset, especially when she’s still rocking that post-orgasm glow. Her hair is a mess, her dress is wrinkled, and it’s obvious she’s been up to no good.
The line trills in my ear and I’m about to hang up when I finally hear Braxton’s voice fill the speaker.
“You already fucked it up, didn’t you?”
“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, no—well, not in the sense you’re thinking at least. Please tell me you’re still here.”
“Hell no. I bounced quick. I do have a life outside of philanthropic events, ya know. Why? What’s up?”
I groan. “Fuck. Well, see, what had happened was…”
His deep laugh fills the line. “Nothing good ever starts with those words.”
“I kind of sort of locked myself…and Denny…in a closet.”
He’s quiet…quiet enough that I think he’s hung up, so I check the line.
Nope, he’s still there.
“Braxton?”
“I’m sorry,” he says through laughter. “But did you two fuck at a charity gala?”
“I…” I try to come up with a lie, but nothing sounds right, so I settle for the truth. “Yes.”
“Oh shit.” More laughter. “You’re a mess, Clark, a real fuckin’ mess. If the coaches caught wind of this…”
“I know, I know. I’d be out on my ass, but it was a necessary risk to take.”
“Was it? Couldn’t have waited until you got back to your room?”
“I’m sorry, but did you see that dress?” I whisper into the phone. “You know what, don’t answer that.”
“I’m shaking my head at you, Clark.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Maybe try calling Joe? He’s still there, second to last to leave.”
“Son of a bitch,” I complain through gritted teeth.
That bastard Braxton laughs again.
“I am thinking really hard of turning around right now, though, if that makes you feel any better. I’m so tempted to do it just to see Joe let you out.”
“I’m hanging up on you, dick.”
“Good luck, Clark.”
The line goes dead.
“He can’t help us?”
I shake my head at her. “Nope.”
“Do you have any other teammates here?”
“None that I want to call.”
She marches toward me, holding her hand out. “Then I will. Gimme.”
“No way!” I clutch my phone to my chest. “Not happening.”
“You will call someone to get us out of here, or this”—she twirls her fingers between us—“will have been a one time-only thing.”
I smirk at her. “Oh, Den. We’ve waited years for this to happen—we both know I don’t have to do anything other than crook my finger at you to get you back in bed.”
“Want to test that
theory, Cap?”
“I’d bet double on it.”
She grits her teeth because she knows I’m right, and then she lunges for my phone again.
Naturally, she misses.
Thank you, baseball reflexes.
She turns back to the door, banging loud and hard. “Help us!”
“Quiet! If my coach finds out about—”
“You fucking me in a closet while you’re supposed to be raising money for charity?”
“Yes, that. If he finds out, I’m fucked. We need to handle this discreetly.”
She raises her hand like she’s about to bang on the door again, hard green eyes penetrating me across the small space. “Then you better start dialing, Shep.”
“You’re crazy.”
She lifts a brow.
“Don’t worry”—I wink—“I like it.”
With reluctance, because I know he’s going to give me intolerable amounts of shit, I scroll until I find Joe’s number and hit call.
“Are you calling me from inside the building? Where’d you disappear to?”
“I, uh, I kind of need your help.”
“Oh, this is going to be good.”
I hear the smile in Joe’s voice and now I want to kill me for doing this to us.
“I’m locked in a closet.”
“I’m sorry, you’re in the closet and you need my help getting out? I’m flattered, Clark, but I don’t bat for that team.”
“Joe…” I pinch my nose. “I’m not alone.”
“Who are you with? That girl you brought?”
“Obviously.”
He hoots in laughter. “Oh wow, man. That’s ballsy considering all the trouble you’re already in. What a dumbass.”
“I don’t need a talking to, Joe. I need help out.”
“Where are you?”
“If you go out of the room through the main door and make a left, we’re down at the end in the small storage closet.”
“Give me five.”
He ends the call.
“Is he going to help?”
“Yes, but it’s going to come with a price.”
She gives me a lopsided grin. “Was it worth it?”
I want to toss a witty comeback at her, a saucy grin, something flirtatious and fun and light—but I can’t.
There’s something that’s bugging me more than I’d like to admit, and if Denny and I are going to have a future together, I need to start bucking the fuck up and talking to her about my insecurities—the same ones that drove me away from her all those years ago.
“I don’t know, you tell me, Ms. It’s Not As Good As I Imagined.”
She ducks her head, and I can tell the reality of what we just did is hitting her for the first time.
I make my way over, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her close. Gently, I place two fingers under her chin and bring her face up to mine.
Her cheeks are still flushed from her orgasm, a sheen of sweat still covers her forehead, and even her makeup is looking like it has seen better days.
She’s still so fucking beautiful though.
“Did you mean it?” she whispers.
“More than anything.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
She sighs, closing her eyes against my stare. “I’ve heard you say that before, Shep. I’ve heard you tell me you mean it then in the end, you didn’t.”
“I’ve always meant it, Den, even then. Even when I pushed you away, I meant it.”
“Then why?” She drops her head to my chest. “Why couldn’t we be together?”
I press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Because I’m a fucking pussy when it comes to love. I’m petrified to have my heart broken. I don’t want to experience that same earth-shattering pain my mom felt when my dad died. So, I run and I hide and I push people away, especially the people who mean the most to me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Shep. I never planned to go anywhere.”
“I know that now.”
“I can’t do this with you again if all you’re going to do is break my heart.”
For a moment, just one single moment, Zach and Delia flit through my mind, but I push them away.
I pull Denny’s face back up to mine, forcing her to look me in the eyes.
“I won’t.”
I’m a liar.
The saddest part? We both believe what I’m saying.
It’s nearly twenty minutes later when there’s a tapping at the door.
“Clark?”
“Oh thank fuck,” I mutter, pushing off the wall. “Joe, dude, I never thought I’d be so happy to hear your voice.”
“Say that again, just a little louder. I don’t think the microphone caught that.”
“I lied. Go away.”
“No!” Denny shouts, running to the door and yanking on the handle. “Please let us out!”
“Not until Clark tells me I’m the best shortstop on the team, and that I have the biggest dick.”
“Your cock is massive and you’re the best shortstop!”
“Thank you, sweetheart, but I need to hear it from Clark’s mouth.”
“That was the sickest thing I have ever heard leave your mouth, and you talk a lot of shit,” I tell Denny quietly. “You need to take it back.”
“Fine, I take it back, but you need to say it. I’m starting to feel like I’m suffocating in here. If that’s the price you have to pay then pay up.”
“Clark? I’m needed back at the party. It’s now or never.”
“Say it,” Denny pushes.
“Fuck,” I groan. “You’re the best shortstop on the team and you have the biggest dick!”
Joe cackles and turns the knob, pulling the door open. His grinning face fills the doorway.
“’Sup, buttmunch?”
I grab Denny’s hand and shove past him.
The applause starts, the noise filling the otherwise empty hallway.
Several guys from the team are standing out there, all hooting and hollering as Denny and I make our shameful exit.
“Way to go, Clark!”
“Yeah! Nice going!”
“You’re the real MVP!”
Denny being Denny, she starts high-fiving and fist-bumping the guys, apparently feeling real goddamn proud of herself.
Fucking hell. I duck my head and pull her forward as fast as I can.
When we get to the last player, Denny yanks herself out of my grasp and turns to the crowd.
“I’d like to take this moment to address some rumors you might have heard about Shepard Clark—rumors spread by me.”
They all listen with rapt attention, amused smiles on their faces.
Bastards.
“I was wrong to tell everyone Shep’s penis is only three inches long. That was a miscalculation on my part.”
What is she doing…?
She gives me a quick wink. “It’s clearly four.”
With that, she bows, and then she sashays down the hall, leaving me standing here with my mouth agape and all my teammates in tears of laughter.
“I vote we keep her,” Joe says.
A smile creeps across my face as I stare after the woman who just fucked me in a supply closet, made me confess my love for her, and then told all my friends I have a four-inch dick like it was nothing.
I vote we keep her too.
26
Denver
I was right. Casual with Shep would be impossible.
Every feeling I’ve had about him in the last five years reared its ugly head the moment he slid inside me.
I felt the love, hate, adoration, the rage, and the hurt—all of it. With every thrust, every gentle touch…it was all there, begging to burst from my chest.
And when he asked me if it was what I’d always imagined? I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him, not while he was inside me.
Which is why I beelined to the bathroom after our tryst. I need time to breathe, a moment to myself t
o wrap my head around the fact that he’d said he never stopped loving me.
How is that possible when he hurt me so much? How is it possible that I still love him even through all that?
Is that what fate is? Loving someone even when you know you’re not supposed to? Knowing they have the power to destroy you yet still opening your heart to them?
If so, maybe Shep was right to fear fate. It’s scary as hell.
I finish cleaning up my makeup and smoothing down the flyaways that have escaped the intricate bun I have my hair tied up in. Once I decide I don’t completely look like I’ve been ravished, I make my way back to the main ballroom.
Sliding back into the crowd, I accept a glass of champagne from one of the waitstaff.
“When we get up to that room, your ass is mine.”
His warm hand slides his body against me, and I smirk against the glass I have raised to my lips.
“Wow, we’re already progressing to anal? You move fast, Shep.”
He shakes his head. “I never know what to expect from your mouth, Denny.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Good—most of the time.”
“When don’t you like it?”
“Well, when you tell everyone I have a four-inch dick, for instance.”
I try not to laugh. “You’re right—three was much more believable.”
“Dammit, Denny,” he mutters, pulling me close and laying a kiss on my cheek. “I’m keeping you this time.”
I turn into him, catching his hungry eyes with mine. “Are you?”
“If you’ll let me, Bucky.”
I take another sip of alcohol, needing the confidence.
“We’ll see, Cap. We’ll see.”
“What are you doing?” Shep asks as I drop to my knees when we enter the hotel room. He chuckles. “Steve is in his crate—and you’re the one who put him in there.”
“I’m not down here for Steve.”
His eyes darken. “Den…”
“Didn’t you say I could only be on my knees for you in one of these dresses?”
He swallows thickly and nods.
I’ve never been one for giving blow jobs. It always felt like work, not play. This, though, feels different.
It’s Shep, so I should expect nothing less.
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