“You have Miller Lite on tap?” Roxy was relieved, for a moment she’d thought Clayton was going to order for her. And, that was the last thing she would be impressed with—some girls maybe, but not her, not today and sure as shit not tomorrow. Independent woman and all.
“Yes, ma’am,” the bartender answered.
“I’ll take one of those, then.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” The bartender turned and walked away, and what a view it was. He had broad shoulders that tapered toward his waist. Strong back muscles were clearly visible beneath the t-shirt he wore with the bar’s logo on it. When Roxy let her gaze reach his jeans she turned and looked toward the game on the television.
“See something you like, huh?” Her eyes shot up and met Clayton’s glare. A glare that made it clear he wasn’t amused. Deciding not to even justify his question with an answer, she merely rolled her eyes and went back to the game, figuring Clayton would drop it and move on. He didn’t.
“Another woman who likes bad boys? Not very original, Sunshine.” The use of her old nickname was a shock coming from Clayton Karz’s lips. From his expression, its significance wasn’t knowledge he’d been informed of.
The bartender picked that moment to return with their mugs of barley and hops.
“You two want to start a tab? I just assumed you were here together….are you?” He asked both of them, but the man never took his eyes away from Roxy.
She supposed he did have a bad boy look to him. And, there would be no way of denying his good looks: rugged, manly, and virile. Now, that may have surprised her barstool neighbor—for a loud and proud independent kinda girl, Roxy was attracted to strong and almost always domineering men. No problem with them leading the way or being in charge, but only in bed of course.
“We’re not—“Roxy attempted to answer that they weren’t together but Clayton cut her off before she could get it out.
“We’re not done with the drinks so yeah, start a tab for us. And yes, we’re together. Thanks for asking.” Clayton could feel her eyes on him but he refused to look at her. She didn’t need some bad news bartender hitting on her anyhow.
“That’s a shame. You are a lucky man, sir.” She considered correcting the man about the bull Clayton had just spewed but he was already walking away.
“What the fuck was that? Are you high?”
He figured he must really be one sick fuck if that bitter tone and snarky retort sent a jolt straight to his groin.
Clayton had heard her and, if he wasn’t bullshitting himself, he’d admit she had every right to be pissed. Jesus, it was jealousy. Plain and simple. But, in his defense, the guy was practically drooling as he let his eyes wander over Roxy. The ball team’s shirt she wore was stretched snugly across her chest and left very little to the imagination. Hell, he knew since he’d spent half the day watching those beauties attempting to escape the confinements of the taut cotton.
“What? I am doing you a favor; the guy’s a player, you really interested in a one night stand?”
Sounded convincing, right?
“Maybe, I am.” Her eyes challenged him as much if not more than her words did.
His lips twitched as he tried to refrain from smiling, but his amusement shone in his eyes as what resembled interest played across his face. Masculine features slightly softened as he studied her face, looking for some sign that she was jesting; Clayton found none. Well, that mixed with her miffed look, had his cock joining them for drinks. Lifting his hand, he brushed his knuckles across the smoothness of her cheek.
“I’d be all over that, Roxy.” Truth.
Roxy fidgeted with one of the cardboard coasters that sat on the wooden shellacked bar top that had seen better days.
Clayton reached over and stopped her motions with his large rough left hand preventing her from the annoying useless distraction. “Just so you know.”
Not what she expected from him….at all. If she hadn’t known for certain that he was still nursing his first beer, Roxy would’ve thought he was drunk. Knowing his cocky side, this was probably some ill attempt at being humorous. An epic sized failure at humorous, but still an attempt.
Too bad, so sad. No way was she falling for his crap.
“Whatever. Let’s cut the bullshit and you explain to me what’s really going on when you throw.”
And, there went his hard-on. It was sad and he felt like saying, “see you later, little buddy.” Because, there’d be no way that appendage would be blissfully returning anytime soon now. Probably, her plan—if she even knew. Hell, Roxy was a woman and they damn near knew everything when it came to men, didn’t they? That had been his experience thus far. Of course, they knew, they had often caused the issue in the first place—unintentionally or not.
Chapter 10
“When I throw?” His first instinct was to lie—feign innocence. However, Roxy threw him off by reaching over and resting her hand on his forearm. Her eyes showed an understanding and possibly a bit of sympathy he hadn’t realized she was capable of.
Leaning in closer to him, Roxy lowered her voice and spoke again. “I noticed that before you even follow through with the pass, your right foot is basically on the tips of your toes. And your left foot slightly drags on the side, inches before you complete the throw. Why, Karz?”
Blinking hard, her insight had surprised him. Geez, had he even realized he was dragging his left foot? Nuh-uh. Apparently, he couldn’t keep his secret anymore, at least from her. None of the trainers or coaches had noticed anything with his form. Most likely because everyone was worried about his upper body. They would’ve been alarmed if there had been a hitch in his arm. Leave it to Roxy to see it all.
“I’m not sure—“Clayton started.
“Bullshit. I want the truth this time. I’m here to help you and I can’t if you aren’t honest. I’m not going to spill the beans to Coach Gresser or anything. I’d rather fix it. You’re safe with me. Spill it.”
Heat from her fingertips practically burned his skin. How had he not noticed how beautiful she actually was before now? High cheekbones with their fullness, gave her a soft almost sweet look. Which went along nicely with her small nose that turned up just slightly near the tip. Even with makeup on, freckles made themselves known on the bridge of her nose giving her a youthful look. He’d thought her cute before, but she was so much more than that. The fullness of her lips beckoned him, which was as fascinating as it was frightening. After all, knowing this fireball, she’d probably knee him in the nuts if he made a move on her. And, that entertained him to no end.
“I’m still off a bit, I guess. It’ll work itself out in due time.”
“Don’t antagonize me, Karz. By the look of your left foot and the way it is turned sideways, my guess is that you’ve got some numbness happening, don’t you?” Roxy didn’t need verbal confirmation; his face answered for him.
“How bad is it?”
Clayton grunted and waggled his empty mug at the bartender signaling for another.
Of course, she saw through his casual dismissal of his symptoms. Roxy was good at her job—not just for her wealth of knowledge, but because she didn’t let him slide by with anything. Something he hated at first, but he now he was starting to appreciate.
Sighing he finally answered. “I’m surprised I stay standing. The faster and harder I throw, the worse it is.”
“Shit. Quads down? Obliquus? Trapezius down?”
“Whoa! In English, please.”
“Sorry. Thighs down? Core down? Shoulders? I need to know where the numbness starts, Clayton—I can’t help you if you don’t fill me in.”
Call him a pervert but he had a mind to fill her in alright—just not the way she was talking about. Her words “you’re safe with me,” played in his head again. He was afraid to tell anyone else about the numbness. That kind of comment wouldn’t bode well for him with the trainers or the coaching staff and he preferred to keep his name on the roster for at least another season or two.
Two full frosty mugs had appeared in front of them and it surprised her, she hadn’t even seen them dropped off. Then again, Clayton had just dropped a little doozy on her that she wished she’d known about from day one. Taking a drink, she realized she needed something stronger; this beer wasn’t cutting it. She ordered them a round of drinks from south of the border.
“You’re serious?”
“Dead serious, quit being a pussy and drink up quarterback.” Taunting a man of 6’5” and two hundred and fifty pounds probably wasn’t the best idea , but calling Karz a pussy was priceless when she got to enjoy the look on his face afterwards.
“Why are we doing shots of tequila exactly? And, I’m NOT a pussy.”
“I wanna know if there’s anything else you’re hiding from me and tequila is my truth serum. And, yeah you are.” Mischief twinkled in her eyes and he found it stunning.
Two could play this game.
Without another word, Clayton downed the double shot in front of him without so much as a flinch. Then, he leaned closer to Roxy, far too close for anything other than invading her personal space and hopefully intimidating her a smidge.
“Pussy, my ass,” he muttered as he took the small double shot glass sitting directly in front of her and pulled the lime from the rim and set it against her mouth. “Hold this between those beautiful lips of yours.” To his astonishment, she did as he instructed.
Hey, little buddy; you’re back again.
Clayton downed the warm golden liquid that lightly burned on its descent. He risked looking at her and almost lost his nerve, but then he remembered that she had called him pussy. He was doing this—it’s what he wanted and damn the consequences.
Framing her face with both of his hands, Clayton quietly groaned at the feel of the soft warmth of her skin as he leaned in and covered her mouth with his. His pinky rested just above the pulse point on her neck and he felt the speed picking up. Clayton kissed her. Once, twice then let his tongue sweep across the seam of her lips before she released the lime as he sucked it from her hold. Leaning back against the high-backed barstool, he watched her and waited for her reaction. Would she punch him? Although, he’d prefer if she chose to ride him long and hard while scratching his chest up and screaming his name in ecstasy, but he’d take whatever kind of reaction he could get at this point.
Roxy couldn’t believe what the man had just done to her and even worse, she couldn’t believe her body’s response to it. She knew it served her right for provoking him, but that didn’t calm the shockwaves making their way through her body.
“Bottom of the fourth and the Reds are up by two runs; not looking good for the hometown boys, but Adam’s looking good tonight. He’s got a hell of an arm.” Roxy said, completely fixated on the screen.
Clayton chuckled. A deep, purely masculine sound demonstrated his pleasure. Lord, she wanted to look at him, but didn’t risk it.
Clayton brushed his lips from her cheek to her ear. “And, you called me pussy?” Roxy closed her eyes and heard him inhale before he retreated. The man had just smelled her hair and insulted her, yet her reaction was a dampening core and tightening nipples.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Karz. Not all of us play games. Now, let’s discuss what we’re going to do with your therapy and then we can head out.” It pissed her off that he had flustered her so much.
He considered pushing her more, asking what games she was talking about. Instead, he listened to her discuss his rehabilitation and what plans she had. The whole time he watched her lips moving, Clayton wondered what they’d feel like wrapped around his dick. Would she be as demanding in bed as she was out of it? One thing he was positive of was that Roxy Shaw would be a wildcat in the sack. She didn’t have it in her to be anything else. A woman who knew men as much as she did probably had a broad knowledge of what a man would want in the bedroom as well. She certainly had a body made for sex. Shit, he had noticed her nicely rounded curves the first time they met. But, he hadn’t really looked at how far her waist tapered in, giving her that hourglass figure like a sexy Venus right before him. Damn, she always smelled so sweet.
“Are you even listening to me, Karz?” Leaning forward, she squinted her eyes at him trying to gauge his expression.
“Do you know how fucking sexy your lips are?” He asked as he dragged his thumb across her plump lower lip; lips that glistened from the last drink she had taken.
“Okay, no more drinks for you—“
“I’m not drunk, Roxy. I’m speaking the God’s honest truth, that’s all.” So, he was feeling the drinks, but what did you expect? He’d downed four shots of Cuervo in under a minute and had a couple beers. Buzzed—not drunk.
Clayton stopped her hand as she started fidgeting with the cardboard coaster again.
The size of his hands were rather impressive. Thick and long, rough to the touch fingers and it had her brain questioning if other appendages would be have the same qualities. It had been awhile since a man had had his hands on her. Not that she hadn’t been approached but….Roxy could be picky sometimes.
“Roxy?”
When her gaze met his, he didn’t need to ask—desire was staring back at him in a brilliant shade of green. It was enough spark to light his fire to near fatal backdraft levels. No turning back now.
Clayton closed the distance between them until he was merely a breath away.
“Sunshine, you claim no games, right?”
Roxy nodded.
“I want to take you home and map out your curves until I know every route possible to your nearest orgasm.” Her breath hitched. “Then, I’m going to enjoy the ride until we hit that destination together. Because, you’ve got my pulse pumping harder than my V8 and this boy is nearing combustion.”
His voice was low and gravelly and revved her up to no end. She considered coming back with some smart-ass comment about hitting the brakes or losing a belt after his sexually laced car innuendo. However, a sexy-as-hell man wooing her with sexually explicit horsepower had her skipping the first few gears and going straight to six with full torque.
“I’m driving; I never even finished my first beer—“
Clayton interrupted her, “you are not driving—“
“Then, we call cabs and the ‘Stang stays here, jackass.”
Chapter 11
“Easy, easy, easy!”
Maybe, he should’ve had her take the back roads and stay off the freeway. Roxy could definitely handle the car like it was extension of herself. Kinda impressive. Kinda.
“Quite being such a pansy, Karz. I’ll take real good care of your precious baby.” Roxy assured him before turning her head and mumbling, “after I drive the piss outta her.”
“What did you just say?”
Dammit! Definitely not a damn thing was wrong with his hearing.
“Nothing. Now, tell me where I’m going next.”
Clayton gave her directions and she tried to concentrate on her driving so he wouldn’t have anything to bitch about, but it was hard when he rested his hand on her thigh and continuously stroked her with his thumb.
Her plan? Get him and his car home, call a cab¸ and get herself home. It wasn’t a good idea to sleep with him—it just wasn’t. She never dated patients or fucked them, casual or not. That would be nothing but trouble. But, damn if she didn’t like some trouble. Plus, it had been awhile—her body craved the feel of a man. She needed it. There was always Michael. Her neighbor after all was gorgeous, he didn’t hide his attraction to her, and more importantly, he wasn’t her patient. He wasn’t Clayton Karz. Which was good and not so good.
“Oh, wow!” She had been a guest at many get togethers at gated communities like this but his home was beautiful: red brick with black trim and matching roof. The landsc
aping alone was probably more costly than most of her belongings—vehicles withstanding.
Opening the glove box, Clayton pulled out a garage door opener and hit the button. Door number two opened and she was mesmerized when the Mustang parked just inside next to an Escalade that appeared to have all the bells and whistles. Sadly, his garage was nicer than the last apartment she’d lived in.
It wasn’t the booze that stopped him in his tracks as he watched her lightly run a hand up the length of the Escalade’s hood. Nope. His lust-addled brain just couldn’t seem to keep up with his original plans of seducing the woman once he had her within his lair. Instead, Clayton found himself frozen, watching her curvaceous ass as she manhandled his SUV like he wished she’d so eagerly do to him.
Without a word, she was jerked away from the Cadillac by one hand. Clayton pressed a button next to the small interior door that lead to the house and the garage door slowly lowered as they entered the house. Towing her behind him, he didn’t stop until they had reached the stairs and he crowded her against the wall, holding her where she was with his strong thigh pressed tightly between hers. Bracing himself against the wall, he held himself just off her with his hands above her shoulders.
They stared at each other.
“I can’t even think straight right now; I want you so much, Roxy.”
With his every breath, Clayton inhaled the sweet scent that was purely Roxy. Leaning in closer, he rubbed his jaw against the side of her face as if staking a claim on her—marking her with his scent as well as stealing just a bit of hers. He growled.
“We can’t do this, Karz.” Jesus, had she really just said that? Roxy heard her own voice, but hadn’t a clue that’s what was going to spill from her mouth.
“Like hell we can’t.” He was just about to drag her up the stairs and show her just exactly what they could do when she pushed away from him and walked toward the kitchen.
No fucking way was this night going to end like this. No. Fucking.Way.
“Glasses?” She asked when he walked into the kitchen. Walking over to a cupboard, he pulled one out, handed it to her, and watched as she went to the door of the refrigerator and filled it with a few ice cubes and then water.
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