Win Big: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

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Win Big: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 8

by Bella Love-Wins

“You’re not ready for it yet.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “For starters, you were still in pain just to get from the bed to the table. You need a couple more days. We’ll start next week.”

  I relaxed and rested my head back on the table. “Awww, come on.”

  “It’s going to take as long as it’s going to take. Do I need to remind you about not pushing too hard every time I see you?”

  “All I care about is getting back in top form by the combine.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to get you there, and so will Dr. Burton, Jeff and Ryan. I need you to follow the plan.” She had determination in her voice.

  “Good to hear you’re committed to my recovery.”

  “It’s my job, Evan. I always do my job.” She checked her watch. “This ice can come off now, and we can pull the sleeve back over your thigh. I’ll go get these back in the freezer.”

  “Pass me the remote over there on my bed, will you?” Samantha looked at me with contempt. “Please?” I added.

  “Sure.” She snatched it off the bed and passed it to me before hurrying off in the direction of the kitchen.

  I turned on the TV, but was not looking over at it. I had never known real frustration in my life until now. Before this injury, I had always been an instant gratification type of person. I didn’t like waiting. Two days felt like two years if it meant I had to wait. And now, getting back in shape meant learning to take it slow and let my body heal before I did more damage instead of make things better. Samantha wasn’t trying to give me a hard time. Dr. Burton, Jeff, and even the coaches would say the same thing.

  It didn’t stop me from hating it all. Sitting around sucked. Falling behind was suffering enough. Knowing the rest of my teammates would be working out without me while I stretched out here on a table with an ice pack on my groin—that drove me nuts.

  Samantha walked into the room at just that moment. “Let’s get the compression wrap back on.” She stopped halfway and pivoted around to look at the TV screen. Her face went beet red. “Seriously?”

  “What?”

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” She asked, pointing at the TV without looking at it.

  “Since when is watching porn a big deal?”

  “If I want to watch hard core stuff like that, I’ll do it on my own time. Maybe you can do the same while I’m here.”

  “You watch porn? I’d never have guessed.”

  She recoiled a little, and began packing up the equipment she’d brought with her. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

  “I thought we’d already established that the last time you were here.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she stepped over to the side of the PT table. I was getting the compression sleeve back in position.

  “You may not like the situation you’re in, but that doesn’t give you the right to subject me to that…” she pointed at the screen again, unable to find the words. “That…”

  “Porn? Relax. At least I muted the sound.”

  “How thoughtful of you,” she spat.

  “I won’t hold it against you that you hate football, and you try not to hold this hardcore stuff against me…when do we get back on the field?”

  “Week three.”

  “That’s ages away.”

  “Christ…Look, you need time to rest and work your way back from injury. I’ve seen what can happen when athletes ignore what we tell them to do.”

  “Oh?” I worked the athletic shorts up my legs without her help. Icing the area made it much easier now than getting them down my leg. “What happened?”

  Her eyebrows knitted together as though reliving a difficult memory while she gathered up her things and placed them in the plastic container. “Nothing you need to know about. I just don’t want to see you or any athlete hurt their own chances.”

  “Well, thanks. I sure am touched to know you care that much about my chances.”

  She helped me off the table, and her demeanor changed. All the tension between us bubbled over and turned into something different when my hand brushed against her upper arm as it hung over her shoulder. Limping across the tiny space with her assistance was harmless enough, but all manner of wicked thoughts crowded my mind, so much so that I didn’t notice I was sliding my fingers along her smooth skin, just below the sleeve of her top. Or maybe I noticed and was liking it too much to stop. Her head rotated to look up at me just then. “Quit that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She lifted her hand and tugged on the offending digits. “Touch me again like that and you’ll need to figure out how to play football with fewer fingers.”

  “Oooo, who’s dangerous now?”

  Her eyes narrowed, then her lips curled up at the corners. “It’s not a good idea to piss off the person who’s working in such close proximity to your most sensitive…parts.”

  “Now we’re talking.” If only she knew what she was doing to my most sensitive parts right now. This side of her was sure to be feisty and fun loving. This was the girl I wanted to come out and play. My dick liked the idea too. “Tell me more.”

  “I should have known you’d be a dog with a bone with a suggestion like that.”

  “Something tells me you’d like it…making me pay for getting you all worked up.”

  “Getting me worked up?” She asked in a voice an octave higher than normal. She sounded angry. I couldn’t wait to hear what she’d spit out next. “You’re the one who had no problem stripping just so I could see your boner.”

  Oh yeah. We were getting somewhere, all right. I gave her a wink. “That was no boner, babe. That was resting phase. Just wait till you see it when I get all excited. I might do a little more than distract you while you work on me.”

  “Keep dreaming.”

  “You’d look good in leather while you’re making me pay, by the way.”

  “That’s enough, Evan. Do you ever stop with the innuendo?”

  “Only if it’s not working.”

  “Does it look like it’s working on me?”

  “Do you want the nice answer, or the truth?”

  She let go of me when I made it to the side of the bed, but she didn’t move away. I was so tempted to get my hands around her waist and deposit her on the bed with me, but that would cross a line even I wouldn’t attempt. I just stood there and met her gaze across the foot of space between us now. Why didn’t she leave?

  Oh right. I was standing between her and the side door. Finally breaking from my stare, she took a side step and began to squeeze past me.

  “I have my own ways to check, you know?” I informed her. “Want me to show you how?”

  Samantha stopped short beside me. A scant few inches separated us where her shoulders met my bicep. She pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear before bending over to pick up her box of things. When she straightened up, I couldn’t resist anymore. I leaned closer, noticing the lingering fruity citrus scent of her body wash or shampoo that had been curling up into my nose since she’d walked in. “You smell amazing.”

  She hitched in a breath, clearly affected by me and not quite ready to escape or fight it. I leaned in even closer and inhaled deeply. Our bodies were so close, I reached a hand to her chin, drifting closer until our lips were inches apart. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she moaned, swaying into me. That was permission enough for me to make contact and brush my lips against hers, and the next second, I slid my hand to the back of her head and kissed her hard. Her hands were busy holding the plastic container, but every other part of her body melded into me. She parted her lips when my tongue swiped over them, giving me leeway to explore and taste her. Just as I ran my hand up into her hair to deepen into the kiss, she pulled away, breathing heavily.

  “You taste amazing too,” I said without thinking.

  “That should not have happened, Evan.”

  “Sorry, but I disagree.”

  “I…I have to go.”

  “Wait.”
>
  Breathless, Samantha growled out, “Don’t ever try that again.” She stormed toward the door, fumbling with the knob until she realized she needed to put her stuff down to unlock it.

  “That’s one way to make an exit,” I mused.

  “Stop talking.” She was not a happy camper. “As for what you did during today’s session…lay off the crazy stunts, okay?”

  “They’re not stunts. That was a kiss. A damn good one, too.”

  “And earlier?”

  “That’s called porn.”

  “What about before that? Stripping down like some…”

  “Tease?” I said for her. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

  “Christ!” Samantha opened the door, picked up her things and started making her way out. “Try that again and you’ll see how fast I can get reassigned.” She stepped through the doorway in a huff. “I’ll see you tomorrow. For next week, we’ll meet starting on Monday at two. At the center.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll remind you tomorrow. See you then.”

  “Bye Samantha.”

  9

  Samantha

  I. Was. Exasperated.

  That session with Evan was wrong on every imaginable level.

  He was incorrigible.

  I was not much better.

  Why did I stand there and let that happen? From the second I picked up my things and made to leave, I should have bolted. Instead, I froze like a deer in the headlights, captivated by the way the afternoon light cast shadows across his face and brightened the flecks of gold in his eyes. Dammit, he had a horrendous reputation, but that didn’t stop me from staring into them. That scandalous way he gazed down my body and then back up again should have been appalling to me, but God, it was not.

  I tried to remember he had probably perfected this predatory charm that oozed out of his skin, because when I’d moved past him to leave, it took a hold of me. He didn’t have to touch me to rope me in. All that heat and God knows whatever else radiated from his body and into mine, until I was burning up with a fire that spread outward from my core and bloomed through every part of me.

  And then that kiss.

  The brush of his mouth on mine made me ache in places I didn’t think existed. When he parted my lips and his hand reached up to my neck, it melted any resistance I might have had left over. He stole every weak breath I took while our tongues danced. If it weren’t for the plastic tub I’d been holding one to, I was sure my hands would have gripped onto his back or grasped his hair to keep going. It was the sensation of that container slowly sipping out of my hands that woke me up real fast, a reminder that I was supposed to working here, not succumbing to Evan’s powerful draw. That’s when I snapped out of it, and forcefully wrenched my body and mind back to reality. I got the hell out of there, finally fighting the desire to press up against him.

  He must have planned the whole thing. Stripping down to his underwear so I could see his manhood, and geez, that porn flick crap. I didn’t need my day ruined by seeing some naked porn star chick being screwed by a guy with a gigantic dick while she gave head to some other guy with an equally massive schlong. In those thirty seconds, the threesome did the nasty, and the guy with his dick in the girl’s mouth pulled back just so he could jerk off and come in her face, all while she took it from the other guy.

  And Evan wondered why I had averted my eyes? Not that it didn’t turn me on, because I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. Not to mention gazing down at his more than average-sized member while I tried to work. I just hoped he was too busy being an ass to notice the heat rise to my cheeks, and the way breathing in air took that much extra effort. Thinking about it again, I was sure he noticed. Why else would he have the nerve to kiss me? Evan was taking things to a new low. He’d pulled out all the stops to rattle my cage.

  And I took the bait.

  It was working—in more ways than one.

  “How’s it going?” Dr. Jeffries poked his head into the athletic training center supply room as I sanitized the extra wedges and bolsters I’d brought back from Evan’s place.

  “It’s going, Professor Jeffries.”

  “That bad?”

  After his threat about making it so I couldn’t graduate because of my attitude, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t complain about this assignment anymore. I kept my frustration to myself, even though what I wanted to say was it was worse than I imagined, and I was damn close to driving a red hot poker into my own eye sockets just so I wouldn’t have to see him again.

  “I’ll make it through. Not to worry.”

  He leaned against the door frame, looking at me closely. “That’s the spirit. How’s Evan doing?”

  “He wants to be off the injured list as quickly as possible.”

  “Can you blame him?”

  “No. I understand his reasons.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Good, because this kid’s special. We all know he has a bit of an attitude, but Evan Marshall’s been working for this his entire life. The NFL draft is everything to some of these kids. Evan’s family is well off, but because they’re from a small town, the game is everything…to them and his neighbors and probably that entire community. No matter where a football player goes in a small town, they’re asked about the next game, or the next season. All the time. Non-stop. He’s expected to get drafted by the NFL. Think of it this way. You’ve been working to land a spot on the baseball team since you started college. He’s been working to get to the NFL since he was in elementary school…or even earlier.”

  What could I say to that? My department head basically told me that what I wanted and how Evan treated me didn’t matter as much, because I hadn’t been after my goals all my life. And because my goals weren’t as important as getting to the NFL. I may have been listening to him politely, but I was in no way calm under that façade.

  He must have figured out how unsettled I was, because he added, “I’m not saying you have to roll over and play dead if he’s driving you up the wall. Draw the line, within reason. Just know it’s not personal. It’s not, because he tries to cross the line with everyone.”

  Yeah, except I was pretty sure he hadn’t subjected Dr. Jeffries to Dahlia gets a Double Whammy or whatever that porn movie was called.

  Or a smoldering, panty-melting kiss.

  “I trust you’ll do an excellent job. It’s also great practice for when you’re on a pro team. You’ll see a lot of this—athletes afraid of breaking their contracts because they’re injured, behavioral issues, depression, that sort of thing.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  After the day I’d had, all I wanted was a long bath and a glass of wine. Or maybe a bottle. I hastily reminded myself I’d have to settle for a shower because the dorms didn’t have bath tubs, and a beer because Kristy and I had finished off the only bottle of wine we had in our room. I was just about to leave the athletic training center building for some quiet time when I saw Nick jogging across the hall toward me.

  “Hey, Sam!”

  I pasted on a smile and told myself not to be irritated because of that kiss earlier in the week. He meant well, even if he did take it too far. What the hell was it with guys kissing me this week, anyway?

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “How are things going?”

  I didn’t have to pretend to be tired. I was exhausted, and Nick of all people would be able to tell from a mile away. “I’m all right.”

  “Are you okay? No offense, but you look like you were hit by a train.”

  “Good, because that’s exactly how I feel. Anyway, don’t start. I’m tired as ever, and you know when I get tired I get—”

  “Whiny?”

  “I was actually going to say bitchy.” He smiled. “I’m sure that’s what you were thinking. So how’s the soccer team gig working out?”

  “Pretty good, but that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

  “No? Why then?”

  “Come to dinner with me.”

&nbs
p; I looked away, not sure I had the energy to deal with this again. “Nick, we just had that talk when you kissed me, and I felt horrible after having to tell you to lay off. Can we just not go there again?”

  “We won’t. I promise. It’s just dinner…as friends…and no monkey business. Come on, you could use a good meal.”

  “I don’t feel like going out. You know Jeffries took me off the baseball team, right?”

  “Yes, I know,” he admitted, looking crestfallen. “I heard about it today. It sucks ass…which is why I need to cheer you up. Think of it as a peace offering, and a pick-me-up for you after what must have been a crappy day. What do you say?”

  Those big brown eyes of his won me over. “Okay. It’ll be nice to have some civilized conversation for a change. You’re on. Bayou Bar-B-Q at seven?”

  “Deal. I’ll pick you up.” I thought he might do a somersault when he jogged away. It was nice to see him in a better mood than last time. I just hoped he meant it when he said we were going out as friends.

  “To you.” Nick raised a beer in my direction.

  “What for?”

  “For putting up with three creeps in one school year, myself included.”

  “And who are the other two? Austin for sure, and…?”

  He grimaced. “That prick, Evan Marshall.”

  “Cheers then,” I laughed out, clinking the rim of my wine glass to the neck of his beer before taking a sip.

  “I’m still sorry, but I’ve apologized to you about fourteen times already, so I’ll leave it at that.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re forgiven…as long as you behave.”

  “I will. Scout’s honor.”

  “Thanks. Hey, do you know Evan personally?”

  “Only by reputation, and because he’s on the football team. He’s bad news.”

  “I got up close and personal with that side of him already. Right from day one of this crap assignment.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.”

  “Well if it’s any consolation, it’s only temporary.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “What’s his issue, anyway?”

 

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