Misconduct (FSCU Pitbulls Book 1)

by Stella Marie Alden

  “Smells like you.” He pumps some out, sniffs and his length jumps.

  His hands slide over my breasts, up to my neck, and around my stomach. I turn into his strong body and soap his chest with mine. Reaching for more body wash, I slide my hands from his hips to under his arms.

  “Lift, cowboy.”

  He puts his hands in the air as my palm suds the hair under his arms, his large biceps, and his neck. I ache to touch every inch of him and, I do; from his hair, down his chest, to his cock. I drop to my knees and with his member poking my nose, I wash behind his legs, his knees, and his feet. I want to own every inch of this amazing man.

  His eyes closed and his jaw clenched, his want is so obvious, my clit swells. I wash him more, ending with his beautiful, thickness. My thumb swirls around the soft tip of him, I lick off the bead of precum, and air hisses out his lips.

  Taking him into my mouth, I dig my fingernails into the muscles of his buns, and suck.

  “Holy shit, Kira.” Elbows in, he brings his hands to the top of my head, holds me in place, and pumps.

  I’m ready to swallow but he pulls me to my feet, turns me and spreads my thighs wide with his knees. I hardly have time to catch my balance or my breath before he’s inside me. Repeatedly he enters, faster, fuller, harder.

  I brace my hands against the tiled back wall so I can push back. Our heat rises, our sweat mixes with the shower, and our hearts race to the finish. One finger finds my nub and heaven opens it gates. He screams, I orgasm, and my inner walls clutch, begging him to cum with me.

  I curl my arms around, clamp my hands to the back of his thighs, and squeeze so tight I totter. With both arms around me, he grunts, grows, and swells inside of me.

  His primal noise fills the room as he takes me over the top and cums.

  “Ryan, my God.” My knees give out but he holds me upright.

  As one, we catch our breath until the water turns lukewarm.

  “In thirty seconds, we’re going to freeze” Smiling, I stretch.

  As soon as he pulls out, I feel bereft and want more. I kiss his chest, his neck and find his lips. Quickly, we wash again and manage to get out of the shower before the hot water runs out. Then, we fall into bed, my back to his chest and his heavy arm around me.

  We sleep until dawn.

  Chapter 29

  Ryan

  After the championship, the next few weeks fly by. Between classwork, practice, and Kira, my days are full. Focusing on my training, I ignore the paparazzi as well as my personal assistant, who keeps pinging me. Most importantly, whether she’s in my bed or not, I text my lady.

  Me: I <3 you

  Kira: Good luck

  Me: Don’t need it

  Kira: <3 I’ll be watching U

  I can’t believe I’m in Vegas and this is the Combine; the final, magical step before the draft. Jackson and Quest sit with me at breakfast eyeing Coach and his assistant as they approach.

  I stand, stretch, and point. “Y’all would think they’re the ones running the gauntlet. Hell, they look worse than fried shit on a sidewalk.”

  Everyone has a quick laugh. Then, we pile in a van to the stadium. Yesterday, it was Jackson and Quest who had their physicals. Today is my turn.

  “Day one is all about horse flesh.” CJ walks with me into the stadium locker room. “They’ll check you from your hair follicles to your toenails. Just be real polite… and no fucking poetry.”

  Around noon, after having blood taken and being examined places a guy shouldn’t need to worry about, I get antsy. I need to get out onto the field and show these scouts what I got instead of feeling like I got some fatal disease.

  A few cameramen hang out with me taking pictures while I sweat on the treadmill and I chant while I run.

  A player once went to the Combine

  Thinking he’d have a real good time

  They prodded and poked

  Until he got stoked

  And ran the 40 in three-nine.

  The reporters eat it up and I grin ear to ear. There are over five hundred draftees here and yeah, I can be a bit of a diva. But hell, I worked my ass off to be here. While other kids attended summer camp, I played football. Spring break? I worked out. Christmas? Birthdays? I never stopped and now, this is my moment.

  Some pretty nurse takes my blood pressure when I finish my ten-mile jaunt. Then, it’s back to the hotel, some interviews, and sleep.

  Before I crash, I text.

  Me: Nite sweetie

  Kira: How did u do?

  Me: Not my best poetry

  Kira: LOL. The rest

  Me: Doctor says I’ll live

  Kira: That’s it?

  Me: So far

  Kira: Good luck

  Me: Don’t need it

  Kira: <3

  Me: <3

  The next day, I wake up and run the forty in four point five seconds. It’s not the best time here, but in the top ten. After, reporters line up to talk to me.

  The first two ask me the same old shit.

  How does it feel to be in the top five of the draft?

  What am I going to do with all that money?

  Do I have a favorite team?

  The third newsperson, a woman, throws me off my game. “Is it true you’re dating a woman who assaulted Knight Walker?”

  I’m supposed to say no comment or some polite shit about how I don’t want to talk about my personal life but maybe Kira is rubbing off on me because I hear her voice in my head.

  “Well, ma’am. I guess that’s how some people would put it. Others might mention how he’s out on bail for possession of Rohypnol.”

  Her face goes red and she moves her mic away but I grab it, look at the cameraman, and ask, “Can I say more?”

  The grinning guy with dreadlocks gives me a thumbs up.

  “Thank you. Do you know what percentage of women report they got drugged in college? One in thirteen. Researchers think the number is more likely one in ten because so many women don’t want to admit it. My girlfriend, Kira McKenzie, was almost a victim. Instead, she went after an evil bastard so he can never do it again. And I am damn proud of her.” I hand the mic back to the lady reporter.

  CJ gives me a thumbs up and Jeff pales, looking like he’s going to faint, but stomps over to me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much money in ads that little speech of yours may have cost?”

  I shrug. “Some things are more important than money. Besides, if what I said made any of the teams lose interest, maybe it’s for the best.”

  A scout for the Patriots, taps my shoulder and shakes my hand. “Nice job, son. I got a daughter in college. I wish more players would speak out like you did. You’re our top pick, and if you weren’t, I would’ve just put you there. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I turn to give Jeff some shit for being totally off his game but he’s disappeared.

  Then, a bunch of us who did real well get asked out to dinner by the teams most likely to want us. All the while, NFL paparazzi follow us around but it’s all good. In the restaurant, a kid in crutches asks me and CJ if he can have his picture taken with us. The way the little guy smiles? Damn, it’s real good and I want more so I ask Coach, “Before we go, maybe we can visit a kid’s hospital or some shit?”

  He grins and slaps me on the back. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Finally, it’s lights out, and the rest of the week is spent sweating under the cameras. I’m not as big as a lot of the guys but damn, I’m light on my feet and can jump. At the end of The Combine, I’m a top contender in the NFL draft but too tired to celebrate.

  After the last trial and the last dinner, all us guys go out for a nice dinner but still no Jeff. I guess I really pissed him off.

  Chapter 30

  Kira

  Ever since Ryan talked about me on national TV, my phone has been ringing off the hook but I’ve told everyone I’ll get back to them. I’m not making any statements without first talking to
Andy Quinn. With a lawsuit looming, I’ve got to be careful.

  Sipping my soda, I close my ethics book and swipe my cell phone when it rings. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Kira. This is Jeff Helos, Ryan’s personal assistant. I wonder if I could have a word?”

  “Sure. Just a second.” I scroll through my texts from Ryan but the last one said he was going out to a dinner with a bunch of scouts.

  There’s no heads up about his PA calling. “By now, you must know he’s one of this year’s top drafts?”

  Where is he going with this? “Uh huh, I saw The Combine. He was so amazing. I am so happy for him.”

  “For you, don’t you mean?” His tone is insulting and I don’t deserve it.

  “Why, exactly are you calling Mr. Helos?” My back teeth clench as I try to hold my tongue.

  “You need to break it off with him because-”

  “I don’t see where our relationship is any of your goddamned business.” My voice rises and when more than a few heads turn, I try to tamp down my temper.

  “Is it money, you want? If so, I’ll draw up a contract. I’ll even pay off your student loans.”

  I stand and hiss into the phone. “That’s so offensive in so many ways I’m not even going to grace it with an answer. Goodbye Mr.-”

  “Think about it. What value do you bring to the table? The only thing you can do is bring him down. His little speech this week about women’s rights cost him millions. Your vendetta against Hollywood’s most beloved family will do even more damage. You need to decide what you want to be. NFL arm candy or a mud-slinger?”

  “Does Ryan know you called?”

  “Of course. He’s the one who asked me to straighten you out. Think about it, Ms. McKenzie. I’ll call you back. Ryan needs to be all about the game. He’s spent every waking minute of his whole life to get here. You want to ruin it for him? Are you so selfish?”

  “Of course not…”

  “Good. I’ll be in touch.”

  I hang up my phone and Jack, my bodyguard strolls over. His eyes roam the room before he sits and glances down. “Is Knight giving you a hard time?”

  Still stunned, I tear my napkin into tiny shreds. “Actually, no. It was Jeff Helos, Ryan’s personal assistant. He said I cost Ryan millions and I may get him kicked off the draft. You think it’s true?”

  He shrugs. “Can’t say. Only his agent would know for sure.”

  I wave as a few of my classmates pass by then add, “Darn it. I have no idea who that is.”

  “Sure, you do. CJ’s brother, Andy? Your lawyer? His firm represents athletes. Coach hooked him up. Why not call?”

  I do but it goes to voicemail. “Shit.”

  Jack sits with me for a while, letting me think while I swirl tiny pieces of paper into the condensation made from my plastic cup.

  Lost, almost in tears, I hold Ryan’s heavy ring hanging near my heart. There is no way he would’ve asked his PA to get rid of me. Mr. Jeff Helos is a big freakin’ liar. I finish my soda, stuff my books into my knapsack and slide the straps over my shoulder.

  Me: Can we talk?

  Mel: I saw TV. Want to come over now?

  Me: B there in 10

  “Where you off to?” Jack glances around the room and nods we’re good to go.

  “Melanie’s. I think I need football wife advice. Can you drop me off?”

  “Sure, glad to.” Once outside, he clears his throat as he walks me to his SUV, the bright sun reflecting off his sunglasses. “It’s not easy being married to an NFL star. They’re gone half the year, always working out, paparazzi all over your personal shit. A lot of relationships don’t last the first year. Those that do, well, those girlfriends are understanding…”

  “Understanding?” I stop in my tracks on the sidewalk in front of the dorms.

  “Yeah. Maybe more forgiving than some. Get my drift?” His brows raise and I finally get comprehend he’s trying to explain.

  “They let them cheat?” My chest goes tight and the soda I just drank gurgles as acid builds in my stomach.

  Jack motions I should keep moving. “You’ve got to appreciate how these guys have the pick of the most beautiful, successful women in the world.

  They’re on the road. They’re only human.”

  I don’t want to hear any more so hike the rest of the way to the parking lot in silence. What he said sounds true but I don’t have to like it.

  At Mel’s, Jack endures her quick hug, then clears his throat. “I’ll wait outside.”

  “Why not come in?” Her warm smile is one reserved for good friends.

  He shakes his head, no, and stops at the foot of the front stairs. “I think the young lady would prefer some privacy.”

  While he rests against the SUV, Mel escorts me inside. To the right, there’s a room with a physical therapy table, mats, big balls, and some other equipment I don’t recognize.

  She responds to my inquisitive stare. “I’m a physical therapist. That’s my home office.”

  “Is that how you met CJ?” I follow her laughter into the kitchen.

  “Oh my God. Yeah, he was the worst patient ever.”

  “But you made it through, right?” After Jeff and Jack, I need some female reassurances.

  She leads me into a modern, kitchen with dark chocolate cabinets and yellowish granite countertops. “Actually, we got married and he retired. He had a scare with a brain injury. It turned out to be nothing but we decided to take his money, start a family, and well… here we are. What would you like to drink? I have wine, beer?”

  “Water, I think.” I sit at a table and look out her double glass window where chickadees and warblers flit in and out of a feeder.

  “So, how can I help?” She places a Pellegrino bottle and a couple glasses on the table then sits, her face glued to mine.

  I explain Jeff’s call as best I can remember. “Do you honestly think I cost Ryan millions?”

  “It’s possible. Depends on what team, what city, and what advertisers are looking for his endorsement. Did you call Ryan? Talk to him?”

  I frown as a dark cloud covers the sun. “Not yet. I need to have more

  information. I know he loves me and I love him but is it enough? And, I don’t think I’m up for an open relationship.”

  She chuckles. “Good. Neither was I.”

  “Were you lonely?”

  “When he was on the road, sure I was. But we found time for each other. Both parties have to be willing.” She pats my hand.

  “You have a pretty conventional job. What if mine gets him in trouble?”

  She sips on her water, watching the breeze pick up and the trees rustle. “Listen Kira, you have to follow your heart. No one can tell you what to do.”

  “Jeff said I could get Ryan pulled down the rankings so far, he might not get chosen.”

  “First off, I don’t believe it’s true for one second. You guys are just dating, not married. Secondly, I think Ryan’s game is strong enough to handle a little controversy. And lastly, this isn’t about him, it’s about you. You worked your whole life to be an investigative journalist. This is your chance. Are you going to throw it all away?”

  I shake my head, no.

  “Good. Do what you need to do. So, who is hosting your podcast?”

  “I’ve decided to make it small, just on Facebook. I have a few followers but it should be safe. After the drafts in April, I can follow up with more. Make it a series.”

  “Sounds good. How about we celebrate with something stronger?”

  I nod, she pulls a white wine from the fridge, and tells me more about how she met her husband. I can’t believe the doting father and loveable coach was such an arrogant jerk. She has me laughing so hard, I have to wipe my eyes.

  “Thank you.” Standing I give her a big hug and actually smile.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yeah, you made me realize I can have it all; an NFL husband, a career, and be a mom.”

  She tosses some
stuffed animals into a toybox as we walk through the living room. At the door, she waves to Jack, then embraces me again. “You can do this Kira, but call Ryan soon.”

  Jack jumps out of the SUV, pops open an umbrella, and holds it over my head. “Feel any better?”

  “Yeah, I do. Melanie’s amazing.”

  “She’s the best thing that ever happened to CJ. He was struggling until he met her.”

  “Are you married, Jack?”

  “Yeah.” He hands me his phone with a picture of a beautiful blonde holding a toddler.

  “Would you ever cheat on her, let her cheat on you?”

  “Hell, no. Got too much to lose.”

  I grin. “Good to know.”

  When I get home, I call Ryan and he picks up. “I can’t talk now. What’s up?”

  “What do you think about open marriages?

  Chapter 31

  Ryan

  “Excuse me?” I’m pretty sure I must’ve misunderstood her question.

  Kira clears her throat and brings her mouth closer to the phone in a hoarse whisper. “My bodyguard said many of the NFL players have understandings with their wives. So, they cheat and their wives forgive them. Are you thinking that would be me and you?”

  “Just a moment.” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation now and over the phone. We haven’t even discussed marriage, although I’ve thought a lot about it. I slide my chair out from under the table and shoot an apologetic grin to the large table filled with prospective employers.

  “If y’all will give me a moment. It’s my mom. She wants to congratulate me.” Then, I stride out the front door, make sure no one’s in earshot, and answer her asinine question. “I don’t, fucking share. You got the wrong guy.”

  She sounds like I’m the one who insulted her. “Hold on. I’m no cheater. You’re the one who’s going to have models and movie stars throwing room keys at you.”