Holding (Moving the Chains Book 5)

by Kata Čuić

  “I…I don’t know.” The words seem to come from a deep place in his chest that he doesn’t mean to expose.

  It’s my job to recognize and work with anything he gives me, and he’s sure as heck just given me more than in the entire past season of working together. “That’s okay. You obviously understand the main reason I’m here is to prevent you from coming to blows with Fossoway like what happened last season. You said that argument wasn’t related to football, and I don’t want to pry. Even though you’re a private person, and you won’t be as much in the public eye in Ironville, there are smartphones everywhere. Just think of me like the little angel on your shoulder, reminding you to behave no matter what you’re faced with while you’re home.”

  “I’m about to be faced with my best friend being in a wedding party with her secret, not-so-ex-husband who’s blackmailing her into getting treatment for a chronic health condition in exchange for getting his shit together. I don’t know whether to be more worried about that shit show or about Alex. Sometime during our senior year of college, he became the other guy who sees an opportunity to try to get Evie into bed next. That’s what started all this. That’s what we were fighting about on the field. You don’t need to worry about me making bad press for football so much as Falls and Fossoway.”

  If I thought Mike was being authentic before, he absolutely looks like he’s going to puke all over the steering wheel from his blurted honesty now.

  Holy crap. This is way above my pay grade. I knew I was walking into a lion’s den with this trip, but not like this. David would never have sent me otherwise. “Mr. Mitchell, I don’t want to seem like a fangirl who’s dying to know every little tidbit of sordid information about your life, but I need way more of an explanation than that if I’m going to keep your career in the fast lane.”

  Goddamn. I didn’t know vomit could smell so much like the same thing it went down the hatch as. I’m not a big drinker anyway, but I will never, ever drink gin after tonight. I might not be able to even stand the scent of the stuff ever again.

  “Okay,” Tori sighs then swipes her arm across her mouth. “I’m done.”

  Yeah, I highly doubt that. “I think we should stay here just in case.”

  She blows a raspberry that reeks of alcohol and shakes her head a little too wildly as she laughs. “Oh, no. I’m gonna puke some more. I meant I’m done. With this job. You’re gonna go back to Albany at the end of the month, tell Mr. Gallo you had to hold my hair back while I barfed my intestines up, and then I’ll be fired.”

  I sit on the tile floor beside her, so the boobs that are practically hanging out of her dress won’t be in my direct line of sight anymore. “I’m not going to tell Mr. Gallo about this.”

  “You should actually,” she slurs. “Maybe he’ll write me a decent letter of recommendation at the least.” She gestures with her hands in front of her like she’s showing off a billboard. “Willing to do anything to get the job done. And I do mean anything. Client is about to get into a fistfight at a wedding reception? Tori Russo will drink herself stupid to distract him. This woman does what it takes. She cares more about the client than her own liver.”

  I can’t believe my ears. “You got this drunk, on purpose?”

  “Yep.” She pops the P. “Things were getting a little too tense back there. I didn’t know what else to do to prevent another media nightmare.” She cradles her head in her hands. “I’m so bad at this, but you won’t be stuck with me for much longer. I’m sorry.”

  I feel like an absolute ass. “No, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to be in the middle of this. We fight a lot, but they’re still my friends, and it’s…it’s complicated.”

  “I know,” she mumbles through her fingers. “You actually told me something for once. I’m not heartless even though I hate that they’ve put you in the middle of this. I can understand why they did because you’re a natural problem solver, but I still don’t think it’s fair to you. I care about what she went through. What they went through. What you all went through. But you’re my responsibility, not them. I get you’ve all got big problems. That’s why I resorted to drastic measures to get you out of there.” She laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. “Nothing but my finest for you, Mr. Mitchell.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her with as much honesty as I can show with just my voice. I’m absolutely floored she’s gone to bat for me like she has. We barely know each other. “I’m, uh…I’m so used to fixing everyone else’s problems that it’s kind of nice for someone to have my back for a change.”

  She thumps her head against the wall, more laughing tears making streaks of black down her cheeks. “Well, I’m glad. I’m glad me completely embarrassing myself for a man who is the hands-down best kisser in the entire universe feels kind of nice for you.”

  Wait. What, now?

  “You think I’m the best kisser in the universe?”

  She scoffs, points a thumb at herself and then, weirdly, also her thumb at me. “I can admit that to you now. Not because I’m drunk, but because I’m never going to see you again after tonight!” She cackles. The sort of crazy sound actually bounces off all the tile surrounding us. “Fuck you for giving me the best kiss I’ve ever had in my entire life! Fuck you, Mike Mitchell! I’m twenty-three years old, was in a committed relationship with the same guy for all of high school and college who I thought I was going to marry and have babies with, and he never kissed me like that! It almost makes me think he was right to break things off with me when he went to grad school at NYU, and I got my internship with the Wolves! I think he might have been right! All because you kissed me when you thought I was a prostitute! Fuck you very much!”

  Holy shit. I’ve noticed Tori never swears, and I’m not going to lie. Part of my obsession with her is wondering what it would take to make her swear. I never imagined it would be me. At least…not like this.

  She makes some angry grunting noise then hoists herself upright.

  All I can do is stare. What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you seems inadequate. I was with the same woman all through high school and not nearly all of college, but she certainly never accused me of being the best kisser in the universe. Of course, she also didn’t tell me to go fuck myself because of it. She just told me without words to go fuck myself in general.

  Tori slides one strap of her dress over a shoulder and then the other until it pools on the floor at her feet. She’s wearing a matching black lace bra and panty set that makes me forget I saw her puking just a few minutes ago.

  My brain goes offline. All the pent-up lust I’ve been fighting barrels into me. She’s way more gorgeous than in my imagination. Milky white, pale skin. Curvy hips I could sink my fingers into, and a body that doesn’t look like I’d break it if I enjoyed it to the fullest.

  She practically tears off her bra with a sound that might be frustration.

  My mouth goes dry. I have seen a lot of tits in my time as a football player, but these are hands-down the finest in the entire universe. Full, naturally round, topped with peachy pink nipples that would probably be the best thing I ever put in my mouth with whipped cream.

  She slides her panties down next.

  Oh my God, she’s a natural redhead.

  “Peaches?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Peaches? Did you just call my boobs peaches? These weigh at least as much as cantaloupes, I’ll have you know.”

  Jesus Christ, I said that out loud.

  I should look away, but I absolutely can’t. Instead, I rush to explain, “I use mnemonics to remember people. You have peachy hair and peachy blushes all the time, and you smell like peaches. It’s been a lot of new faces and names ever since I signed with the Wolves, and I have a hard time keeping them all straight.”

  She tips her head to the side in thought. “That’s actually kind of brilliant. I’ll allow it.”

  She’s allowing a lot of things that I still can’t stop staring at.

  “You do realize I’m still in this
bathroom with you, right?”

  “Yep.” She pops the P again.

  “So, what are you doing?” Best kisser in the universe or not, this seems wildly…wild.

  She gapes at me like I’m the crazy one. “I have puke in my hair, a trail of it through my cleavage, and I smell like a freaking bar! What does it look like I’m doing?”

  It looks like she’s doing the weirdest, most erotic striptease I’ve ever seen.

  Or, maybe I really have been single longer than is healthy for a guy my age.

  “I’m taking a shower,” she announces flatly after waiting for my answer that never comes.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re really drunk. What if you fall and get hurt?”

  She’s already turning on the water and stepping into the bathtub. Sort of. She basically holds herself up by aimlessly clinging to the tile walls. The shower door slides closed, not doing anything to hide her mesmerizing body from my view.

  I clear my throat. I might be hornier than I swear I’ve ever been in my entire life right now, but I’m not going to be an ass any more tonight. I glance away. “I’m going to uh, stay here just in case. Okay?”

  “Sure,” she draws out over the sound of running water. “It’s fine. This is fine. I’m fine. This will all be a bad memory by the end of the week anyway.”

  It’s a memory all right. One I’m pretty sure I’ll still be able to recall in old age.

  A thump echoes through the room, so I bolt to my feet, practically ripping the door apart to get to Tori on her back under the spray, laughing.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m great, Mr. Mitchell!” She laughs harder.

  This is the hardest test I’ve ever been put through, but I strip down anyway and climb into the bathtub with her. “Let me help you before you kill yourself.”

  Her laugh turns to a husky chuckle that makes my cock really strain with the effort of keeping it together. “Oh, yes. Please help me, Mr. Mitchell. Right there. Just like that.”

  My hands freeze in her hair that I’m trying to wash the puke out of while earning my place among the saints for good behavior. “Are you mocking me or being serious?”

  “No, seriously,” she moans. “Right there. My head is pounding already. That feels so good.”

  My throbbing dick is sandwiched between my stomach and her back. She doesn’t seem to notice, but if she keeps it up, I might get off just from the sounds she’s making.

  Thank Christ, she quiets down and lets me finish my work in silence. After what she put on the line for me tonight, cleaning her up and tucking her in bed is the least I can do. Even if it just might kill me.

  “Do you need anything?”

  She hums something that sounds like nope right before smashing her face into the pillow and rolling onto her stomach.

  I clench my hands into fists.

  If I don’t do something with them, I might actually grab two handfuls of the finest ass I’ve ever seen—plump, heart-shaped, attached to long legs I’ve imagined wrapped around me way too many times.

  There’s only so much a man can withstand. I’m human, too. Since there’s no way I can leave her alone in this hotel room tonight, I head back to the shower to take the edge off.

  A full-on ice bath isn’t all that unusual after game day, but this cold shower isn’t doing shit for me. I glance down at my dick—rock-hard and ready to go.

  I switch the temperature over to as hot as I can stand, forcing my tense muscles to relax. It’s no good.

  I’m going to break, so I might as well make it worth my while.

  The fantasies come on as hard and fast as ever. There’s plenty of real-life hotness still fresh in my mind to work with. Minus the puking, but that doesn’t even matter anymore. Not after having her firm tits in my hands as I washed them.

  I grab onto that round ass and haul her to the edge of the bed. A single swipe of my finger up her seam confirms what I already know. She’s wet and ready for me.

  I slide the head of my cock as slow as I can stand towards her entrance. It’s a piss-poor imitation, but I squeeze my fist around the top of my dick.

  Her wet, hot pussy feels like heaven. I pull down to the base of my cock, letting the hot water mimic my imagination.

  She writhes and moans, begs me to get inside her. That’s all I’ve been waiting for…

  My groan echoes off the tile walls as my release washes down the drain. I haven’t come that hard in so long, but I haven’t exactly withheld from myself like this before either.

  A choking noise outside the shower stall snaps me out of my haze of bliss. Shit. She must be puking again.

  I open my eyes to see Tori staring at me, wide-eyed. She’s sitting on the toilet.

  This shower glass is not frosted.

  She has a crystal-clear view of me still holding my dick, and I can plain-as-day see a wad of toilet paper being similarly strangled in her hand.

  “I can explain. It’s not what it looks like. Well, it’s exactly what it looks like, but I have a good reason.”

  “I couldn’t hold it! I figured I could sneak in and out before you’d notice!”

  It’s a tie.

  We’re both caught red-handed with our pants down. Neither of us can break our silent staring match of epic mortification. Her face is redder than I’ve ever seen it. If I let go of my dick, she’s going to get the Full Monty.

  Not that we both aren’t already acutely aware of exactly what’s going on.

  I clear my throat. “I’m going, to, uh…turn around and let you finish.”

  She nods, her eyes still wide as the full moon. “Full disclosure. This is one of those never-to-be-shared, never-to-be-used-against you things. I’ll never speak a word of this again—not even between us—if you won’t.”

  That orgasm fried my brain after going so long without. “How could you possibly use this against me?”

  It’s not like she has video proof.

  She licks her lips. “You have the biggest dick I’ve ever seen. That is definitely marketable material, Mitchell.”

  I should be pissed. I should have her fired. She knows way too much. More than I ever intended to tell—or show—her.

  But this woman thinks I’m the best kisser in the universe and that I also have the biggest dick she’s ever seen.

  I’m definitely going to keep her around.

  I’m only human after all.

  “I don’t think I can do this after all.”

  Mike smiles behind the wheel of his truck. Easy. Affable. Like nothing is weird between us now. “Trust me. I’m a natural problem solver, remember? This will be good for you.”

  “I’m supposed to be solving your problems, not the other way around,” I grumble as the city looms in the distance. My insides coil like springs the closer we get to our destination. I’m eventually going to snap, and I don’t want Mike to see that. He’s already seen more than enough of me in less than my finest state. He’s seen me in my whole state.

  “Hey, you took one for the team by going to that wedding with me and puking for half the night to keep me out of trouble. This is the least I can do to repay you.”

  “Technically, I got paid by the team to do that.” No one could pay me enough to ever drink a gin martini again.

  “True,” Mike concedes. Right before his lips spread into a devious grin. “But you’re going to repay me for holding your hair back and seeing you pee by going through with this.”

  “You promised never to speak of it!” I shriek. I have to cling to the indignity of it all, so I won’t think about…other things.

  “I promised never to speak of it publicly,” he emphasizes.

  My cheeks flame, but I can’t argue. The morning of the worst hangover I’ve ever had in my life, I woke up bleary-eyed, cotton-mouthed, and naked under the blankets in a hotel room to find Mike sleeping on the floor—fully clothed—beside the bed.

  Throughout rounds of dry heaving that had nothing to do with pot
ential alcohol poisoning and everything to do with dire embarrassment, he reassured me that everything would be fine. That not only was he not going to have me fired, but that he wanted me to continue working for him.

  He even changed the subject when I started hyperventilating by asking me about Ben and convincing me to make this trip to get some closure over our breakup that completely blindsided me.

  So, here we are. Almost to New York City. Burying the elephant between us in favor of him helping me make the sort of clean break he wishes his friend would make, and me getting the opportunity to snap some completely clothed shots of him enjoying the sights in his new home state for his media campaign.

  “The way I see it, today should be easy for you. You’re already over Ben.” There’s an actual grin in his voice. “Because you’re stuck on me.”

  My embarrassment burns away, replaced by something much stronger. Dignity. “I’m not one of those women who’s willing to sleep her way to the top. I apologize for my behavior, my lack of filter and better planning that night to keep you out of more bad press, but I’m a professional. I respect your personal privacy, and I will never use anything against you. I would appreciate the same respect from you.”

  His brow flattens. “I respect you, Tori. And I trust you. I wouldn’t have told you all the shit going on between my friends if I thought you’d blast it all over social media just to make me look better. You proved yourself when you weren’t willing to do that to Alex last season even though it would’ve been much easier than what I gave you to work with.”

  “It would have,” I agree, straightening my shoulders. “Don’t think this little trip to New York City is getting you out of holding up your side of the marketing bargain either. Just because you’re trying to distract me with this whole closure thing with Ben doesn’t mean I’m going to forget you also promised me some actual shots of you in the Big Apple today.”

  “Damn,” he mumbles, but there’s a smile on his face. “You figured out my evil plan.”

  “You’re darn right I have.”