Dirty Bad Boys Box Set: Forbidden Romance Collection
Page 71
Brushing against her ear, I whisper, “Are you okay?”
“Why do you have to have such a big cock?” she barely speaks.
I try not to laugh, taking it as a compliment. I grip onto her hips, using them as handles and guiding her through the pain. Her moans become deeper, and when her back buckles, I know she’s almost there.
I lean forward, twisting her hair in my hands and pulling it back, so her face meets mine. “Come for me.”
Her face turns bright red and when I demand she come again, she muffles her screams biting down on her lips. It’s enough for me to finish, and when I deepen the strokes, it spirals through me ripping my entire body to shreds until we’ve both collapsed on the bed.
“I can’t even... what’s the... talk,” she finally gets out.
A small laugh escapes, but it’s filled with pain from my aching muscles. I’ve worked myself to almost death these past few weeks and it paid off. I don’t know what excites me more—winning or having her lay naked beside me.
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I could go again.”
“I think my vagina is broken,” she mumbles with a smile.
I turn my body around, making her do the same, so we’re both laying sideways. Staring into her sleepy eyes, I think about what this day has meant to me. Yes, I worked hard and it paid off. Soccer isn’t just a sport to me—it’s my life. I don’t exist without it. But the victory means nothing without her. I’ve never felt so alive than at this very moment although my body argues with me about that.
She isn’t like any of the women I’ve been with.
She sure as shit isn’t Louisa.
She’s Emerson Chase.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she says with her eyes closed.
I think about her question, running my fingers along her cheek. “You’re here.”
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t want to answer that.”
There’s a struggle to open her eyes. They’re tired but still bright blue. “Logan, don’t... we can’t.”
How do I tell her I want her exclusively?
With the pressure of our careers and lives, it will be damn near impossible to make it work. We don’t even live on the same continent. The media won’t allow us to have a relationship, and what about our family? Everything about us is difficult.
She shuffles her body closer to me, placing her lips on mine so we gently kiss. “You only have to know that I don’t sleep with him anymore. Trust me, please.”
“Your text said differently.”
“You fucked that nurse,” she rebuts. “Logan, we both did things out of anger and spite. I’m telling you the truth now… I don’t sleep with him. Please accept that or we can’t move on.”
I grit my teeth, trying to remain calm although every part of me wants to tell her how I really feel. How last week I’d spent my time watching Season Two of Generation Next. How at night when I can’t sleep, I find myself stalking the both of them online. It’s a sick obsession, and one I can’t shake no matter how much I try.
“Or anyone else?”
“I’m so tired I can’t even think. No one else... just you...” Her gentle snores fall on my chest, and with her final words easing my anxious thoughts I hold onto her, wide awake until the sun comes up.
***
The clock on the bedside table marks 7:00 a.m. We’re due to meet Abbi, Chris, and Ash for breakfast in forty-five minutes. I know Ash’s staying in the same hotel, but have no idea where he ended up last night.
I didn’t sleep a wink, thinking this would be our last night together for a very long time. Despite our win yesterday, Coach pegged me for an exclusive training camp in Spain that will begin after finals if we win. It’ll be a grueling four-week camp with zero chance of seeing her.
The thought alone drives me insane. So, with her naked body lying beside me in the sunlight, I move on top and enter her slowly, fucking her until she begins to wake up.
The beautiful sight of her perky tits beg me to suck on them. Even her pussy feels raw, fucked beyond its means from our wild night. We last only a few moments before I blow inside, her body following closely behind.
We catch our breaths—her smile remaining on her tired face.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”
“What can I say, I’m an early riser.”
Her body lays flat and I wiggle myself out of her. “We have to leave soon.”
“Already? Did you even sleep?”
I shake my head. “But you did. You’re so cute... you still do that pouty sleep face from when you were a kid.”
She sits up with a struggle, holding onto her head while wincing. “When did you ever watch me sleep?”
“A dozen times,” I answer truthfully. “Whenever you fell asleep on the sofa, and that time we camped in the backyard.”
“Oh yeah,” she reminisces along with me. “You stayed awake all night and pretended to be a clown with the freaky mask. Ash couldn’t sleep for weeks after that.”
I laugh, a fond memory that still haunts him to this day.
“I should shower.” She yawns, stretching her arms then pulling them back wincing again.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried.
“You’ve fucked me to the point of thoroughly fucked. I can’t move.” She stands up, hobbling to the bathroom and turning on the shower. The water runs for a while with steam filling the room and clouding the mirror. I hop in with her, noticing her skin looks red-raw and there’s a few bruises.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.” I kiss her arm from where I gripped on so tightly.
“No, you’re not.” She laughs. “You loved every second of it. It doesn’t hurt, I didn’t feel a thing. I’m completely numb right now except for down there...” she points, “… where it kinda stings.”
I grab the soap and bend down, washing her softly and noticing how sensitive her skin is. She relaxes enough to hold onto my shoulder, and when I finish, I kiss her lips.
“It’s going to be awkward at breakfast.”
“Maybe we should tell them,” I say with a straight face.
“Tell them what? That we’re fucking? Oh, that’s going to go down real nice.”
“Why not?” I joke lightly.
“Because they think we hate each other.”
“Okay…” I challenge her, “… then we’ll pretend to hate each other. Besides, the best sex is hate sex, right?”
She smirks, throwing a towel my way. “Game on, Carrington.”
***
“Dad, you look like shit,” Emmy tells Chris while scarfing down her breakfast even though she complained her jaw hurt from all the deep-throating.
“I’m not twenty-one anymore.” He grimaces at the rare sun gracing us this morning. “God, I don’t remember how much your head can hurt after a big night.”
Abbi sits quiet on her chair, sporting oversized glasses and a hat.
“Mom? What about you?”
She raises her finger motioning Emmy to be quiet.
“I think Mom and Dad partied too hard.” Ash chuckles, unaffected by his beer consumption last night. “Where did you end up, Emmy?”
She shuffles nervously, crossing her legs. “I got a room. I was exhausted from the day out plus, I didn’t want to travel back this morning.”
“But isn’t your hotel like ten minutes away?” I put her on the spot, watching her expression change to annoyance.
“Ten minutes in distance is doubled in London traffic.”
“But there’s no traffic,” I point out. “Just seems odd that you’d stay in this hotel.”
“I think it’s odd you’re a jerk,” she argues back.
“Kids, keep it down, please. My ears hurt,” Abbi complains.
We end the conversation and eat breakfast quietly, watching a re-run of the game on the big screen television. Seeing Ash score that final goal brings back joyous memories of that moment. He fucking nailed it.
Ash bows his head, studying his plate before his eyes look up at me.
Oh fuck, he fucked her.
The look of guilt, I’ve seen it several times before. I can tell by the way he looks at me, warning me to not say anything out loud.
Jesus, I know his fight with Alessandra got to him but I didn’t expect this to happen.
“I think I saw her leave the pub,” he says blasé.
Emmy wipes her mouth with the napkin, leaning back on her chair. “I should probably call her. Just to make sure.”
“You know what?” Ash interrupts, slightly panicked. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she got back okay.”
“When did you leave the pub?” Ash switches the subject to me. Fucking dick.
“Don’t remember. Was exhausted, so it’s kind of a blur.”
“Sorry, Mom and Dad,” Ash warns before turning back to me. “You picked someone up, didn’t you? Was it that blonde with the low-cut tank and short mini who asked where you were staying?”
“Which blonde?” I screw up my face, pretending to be uninterested.
“Oh, yeah,” Emmy adds with much delight. She pushes her tongue against her cheek, watching me with a wide smirk. “The blonde who offered you her room key. She said she was kinky and wanted to tie you up. Sorry, Mom and Dad.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You sooo got laid,” Emmy teases. “She would have fucked your little socks off.”
Ash laughs, stealing the last sausage from the plate in the middle off the table. “Good. You need a good screw after your dry hump. Especially after your breakup with Louisa.”
He continues to laugh at the same time Emmy’s face changes. It’s a look of curiosity, and something else I can’t quite figure out.
“Who’s Louisa?” Emmy questions, clearing her throat.
“Remember I told you about her?” Abbi intervenes. “The love of Logan’s life—”
I’m about to stop that statement until Ash interrupts, “You were about to marry her. Did I tell you I ran into her last week? I don’t know why I forgot to tell you. She broke up with what’s-his-face and asked about you.”
If that had happened three months ago, I would have gladly called her and picked things up from where we left off. But I sit here, unaffected by what he’s told me and more concerned by Emmy’s quiet reaction. I hate the fact I can’t read her, there’s a total blank expression on her face.
“Honestly, bro. She’s great,” Ash continues. “Yeah, I know I dislike her, but you were happy with her. Looking back now, I’ve never seen you happy with anyone besides her.”
“Second chances don’t come often,” Abbi says, placing her arm on mine.
“Abbi, leave the boy alone. He has time to worry about a relationship later. The next four weeks is training and games, and I don’t want anyone distracting him,” Chris says sharply.
Emerson refuses to look my way, removing the napkin from her lap. “I’m going to head back to the hotel, we have one final shoot today and then we fly out tomorrow.”
Abbi and Chris stand up, hugging her before she turns to congratulate Ash then waves across the table to me—without any eye contact—and says congratulations.
Moving her chair in to the table, she turns around and hurries out of the restaurant.
I think on my feet about an excuse, then tell them I accidentally handed her my credit card last night to buy drinks and need to grab it off her. I chase her down the street before she hops into a cab. “What was that back there?” I say out of breath.
“I’m tired.”
“You’re not getting off that easily.”
She motions her eyes across the street where a man stands with a camera taking photos of us. I smile, pretending everything’s okay then grit through my teeth asking again.
“I don’t know, Logan. Try sitting at a table hearing about the woman who’s the love of your life suddenly wanting you back.”
“C’mon.” I brush it off like it’s nothing because it is nothing. “Are you seriously believing what Ash said?”
“Why would he lie, huh?” She laughs to herself. “Why would Ash make that stuff up? You know what, don’t even answer.”
“Emerson, c’mon…” I beg her to stop.
“No, Logan. You’ve got the love of your life waiting for you. Better go find her.”
The window winds up and the cab drives away, leaving me standing alone on the sidewalk. The paparazzi run across the road, dodging traffic and almost getting run over by a bus. They demand answers to their impromptu questions, and I answer only to distract myself.
“How did it feel to win last night?”
“Is it true that Real Madrid have offered you a position next season?”
“Are you and Emerson Chase an item?”
The last question strikes a nerve. People are onto us.
I could expose our relationship, come out to the world and tell everyone how I feel about her.
But that will damage us more than it would bring good.
“She’s engaged to Wesley Chase. She’s like my sister.”
I pretend it doesn’t hurt, and that the anger doesn’t consume me while walking back to the restaurant where I’m forced to pretend Emerson Chase means nothing me.
When in reality—I’m in love with her.
Chapter Nineteen
“Another woman may have caught your eye,
but ultimately,
the heart is what matters the most.”
~ Emerson Chase.
Wes packs his final suitcase, zipping it up and placing it near the door.
I sit at the dining table, crunching numbers and emailing our lawyer about the contracts we signed for the fitness line launching in Europe. It’s tedious work and something I have been putting off. I also busy myself looking at other properties to purchase building my portfolio and branching away from Wesley.
There’s a pot of coffee beside me—cold and stale from when I made it earlier this morning.
“You know where to reach me?”
“I have your number,” I remind him, staring at this impossible equation on my screen.
“Will you be okay by yourself?”
I can hear the worry in his voice. This isn’t the first time he’s gone away for the weekend, but after what happened in London, he’s been extra protective watching my every move. He’s even made Jimmy, our bodyguard, follow me around town.
The stalker has been arrested, but nothing else can be done. He hasn’t breached any laws and the guy just needed a visit to the looney bin to regroup. Nina held bits of information from me so as to not stress me out.
“I’ll be fine. Tayla flies in tomorrow morning so we’re gonna hang out.”
“You never told me Tayla would be in town.”
I sigh, shutting the lid of my laptop to give him my full attention. “Mom was supposed to come but had something last minute pop up, so she’s sent Tayla instead. I didn’t tell you because I figured you didn’t care.”
“I care, Emerson.” He moves closer to me, resting his hand on my cheek.
Without hurting his feelings, I turn my face away allowing him to pull back. Since we got back from London last week, our schedules have been busy with no time to unwind. We have two more shows to film before final edits. We did a round of interviews, appeared as guests on talk shows, and had meetings with our business partners. Each night I’ve come home utterly exhausted, fitting in small workouts here and there then crashing as soon as I hit the pillow.
It leaves little time to think about Logan and how we left things off, despite the thousands of texts he sends each day which I continue to ignore.
“I should go.”
“Have fun.”
“Do you really mean that?” he asks in a civil tone, a small smile appearing
on his tired face.
“I do.” I offer a small smile in return, hoping to reconcile our constant fighting. “We’ll get through this, okay? Just have fun with the boys.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Em. I don’t know what happened that night,” he admits quietly. “I know we’re not together, but it doesn’t stop me from loving you.”
Letting out a sigh, my eyes meet his with forgiveness. “It’s done, Wes. We need to move on with our lives. We have two episodes left to film. Cliff said they’ll show our argument at Scarlett’s party. The cracks are already there for those who want to read between the lines.”
“I know. But you know that season won’t air until the fall. In the meantime, the network doesn’t want to show any cracks in our relationship. They want it to be a surprise. Ratings soar higher that way.”
Of course, they would.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, I fight the urge to start another argument and remain tight-lipped. Wes pulls out his cell and stands behind me, leaning down and kissing my cheek as the camera clicks.
“Let’s ease the rumors.”
He types away, then places his cell in his back pocket. “We both have committed ourselves to the show. Just do this for me, Em. Finish it off with high ratings and then you can walk away.” He says goodbye and disappears, closing the door behind him as I move to the balcony and watch Wes drive off.
With my cell in hand, I log on and see the photo he’s posted on Instagram.
How beautiful is my fiancée? Love this woman so much, and can’t wait to make her my wife. #Beautiful #FutureBabyMama
Great. That last comment will start the rumor mill. It feels like it’s one thing after another, never time to relax without drama.
As predicted, the comments go nuts and Nina’s number flashes on my screen within minutes.
“Are you pregnant?”
“No,” I tell her. “Wes posted that to ease the rumors about us splitting up.”