Touchdown and Dirty
Page 8
“Yes, Coach?” Pulling off his helmet, Clayton pulled the towel from the front of his pants and wiped his brow.
“Son, I know this is the first we’ve had you in pads since the surgery; is everything good?” Knowing he looked rough out there, he lied. Flat out lied through his teeth.
“Takes some getting used to again, I guess. I’m a bit sore from some of the new therapy technique’s Roxy has me doing. I’ll be fine, sir.”
What a lie it was. New therapy techniques? Ahh... such as repeated raunchy hardcore sex?
He’d leave that part out.
“Alright then, I’ll let it pass. It’s just that I’ve seen many a quarterbacks stress the pass rush as they come back from an injury. We need you to be able to deliver with that pressure. Most times, there isn’t room to find a few more seconds out there. Your team can’t rely on a leader who can’t take the pressure, you know that.”
“Yes, sir. That’s not it, I assure you.” Clayton felt himself being watched far greater than he ever had. Gotta say he wasn’t exactly at ease under such scrutiny.
“Good. Roxy working you over hard, then?” Well, if the Coach’s words hadn’t put a raunchy flashback in his mind’s eye, he’d never know what it felt like to get an erection instantly denied by a nut cup.
“Yeah, I wish she’d been around months ago—I think I’d be in a completely different level of recovery.”
“Oh, you don’t say? I heard a few days ago that you wanted out of the Cherry Hill Clinic. I spoke to Roxy myself and she confirmed your stubborn ass was giving her grief.” With his arms crossed, the Coach’s profile was intimidating. Gary Gresser had been in football for the past thirty-seven years. He’d seen it all and dealt with it all along the way.
“Really?” Why was he surprised to hear she’d bitched about him?
“Told me to keep my mouth shut about it, too. That girl likes to handle things on her own, always has.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but he didn’t cave into it.
“You’ve known Roxy a long time, then?”
“Since, the day she was born. Me and the missus were never blessed with a daughter—you could say I’ve seen my goddaughter as a fine fill in. I wouldn’t trust our starting quarterback with anybody else. She’s unconventional, I know, but Roxy knows what she’s doing. It hasn’t been easy for her making her own trail through sports medicine. Never has that child ridden on the coattails of her father’s name—even though there was no reason she couldn’t have. Football is in her blood, son.”
“Her father, sir?”
“Donnie Pruit.”
Took him a second, but then it hit him like a freight train. “As in the legendary Donald Pruit?”
“One and the same.”
“But Roxy’s name is Shaw?” Clayton hadn’t even realized he’d said that aloud.
“Her mother’s maiden name. Started using it the minute she graduated from high school. Donnie loved four things in life. His wife, football, his classic Cadillac Eldorado and his baby girl. ” With that, Coach Gresser walked away, leaving Clayton there more confused by the woman than he had been earlier.
Donald Pruit had been a quarterback for Pittsburgh for eleven years and, in that time, had won three great big golden bowl rings in five years. He went on to coach in Chicago for two years before his untimely death. In Chicago, he led his team straight into the playoffs and there were hopes of a possible trip to the big game. A heart attack had taken him the night before Chicago was set to play Green Bay in the final playoff game. Green Bay won that day.
No wonder the Coach had said football was in her blood—damn straight it was. For a moment, his heart hurt for her. She had made it through school and had made a name for herself in the field and all without using Donald Pruit’s name. And, he was long gone before she’d made it happen. Dad didn’t get to see his daughter’s success in the sport.
Knowledge of some of her history made him feel guilty. From day one, Clayton had made it clear on his feelings about women in the sport of football. Now, regret swam in his head. Jesus, Roxy most likely knew more about the game than he did. Dwelling wasn’t going to help now. However, getting his ass back onto the active roster was a start.
And, that baby blue Eldorado tattoo just below her luscious ass made perfect sense now…perfect sense. Roxy a daddy’s girl.
The offensive coordinator had him partaking in one and two knee drills. He survived the two knee drills without issues. After all, he only had to throw about nine, maybe ten yards away to his receiver.
One knee drills, on the other hand, weren’t his favorite today. Putting his right knee down, he’d snatch the ball off the ground with his throwing arm, lift that sucker with one hand, and raise both hands high. That part hadn’t felt good...at all. Cock it back and toss it. Normally, not an issue, but when his body numbed after lifting his arms that was a different story all together.
Clayton headed home to change. He told Katie he’d be picking her up at five-thirty. Alexa had replied to his text with a very discourteous “screw you,” so he’d texted Katie next as a second choice. Knowing Katie had her sights set on bagging a wealthy husband with professional athlete notoriety, Clayton wasn’t interested. Well, that and the fact he was surprised the woman could even tie her own shoes. Absolutely not a chance that she’d ever get confused for a rocket scientist—lucky if she could pass for a high school graduate. That, paired with her absentee personality, had him trying to remember why exactly he’d asked her in the first place. Ah ha, she wasn’t Roxy, actually the complete opposite of her and now she was his date for tonight’s banquet.
Dammit! Why didn’t I just ask Roxy?
Too late now. It was only one night. Only a few hours, tops. But, then it was the weekend and he wouldn’t see her then either. Monday she’d have his every minute mapped out for him. After today’s practice, Clayton’s nerves were at an all-time high. He was running out of time and the way he had been throwing? Not starting quarterback material. Not even close.
Chapter 14
The hall was absolutely exquisite with all the beautiful arches and columns. Just walking through the huge wooden doors out front had Roxy feeling like it was from a scene out of some kind of sappy romantic comedy. So many times events were held in newly built, modern sleek straight lined cement boxes passing themselves off as banquet halls. However, Brandt Hall truly was a thing of beauty. Old-world charm warmed the space and anchored the ambiance, not letting the ornate gold-leaf or stained glass overpower its grace. The rooms were filled with round tables covered in white cloths and perfect place settings.
“Champagne?” Michael asked her as the server passed carrying a tray of the bubbly.
“No, thank you.”
Leaning close, Michael whispered, “I know it’s not wine, but it’s what they’re serving.”
Roxy attempted to stifle the laugh that came as she recalled his invitation that first day she had met him. He knew damn well she didn’t drink wine. The four beers that they had shared that next evening were proof of her preferences.
“Well, there you are.” She’d know that voice anywhere. It might have been a few years since she had seen Gary in person, but the older gentleman looked exactly the way he had for the past twenty years.
“Here I am. Not hard to spot among this crowd, huh?” What? It was the truth. She’d come to terms with her build years ago. Honestly. She tended to be slightly taller, slightly, OK a little more than slightly, curvier than many other women. However, she never thought herself slightly less attractive than any of them. If she had learned anything as a thicker built woman, it was there were always plenty of men that were drawn to a fuller figure as well. Tonight, though many of the players had Playboy bunnies and life-size Barbie dolls on their arms. To each their own.
“It’s never hard to spot your beautiful face in a crowd, Sunshine.” His words warmed her but his hug positively melted her. It would be as close as Roxy would ever get to hugging her father as an adult, af
ter all. “Although, this dress isn’t my favorite thing I will say.” Gary mumbled right before he released her from his embrace.
“What’s wrong with my dress?” She asked running her hands down the sides smoothing the black stretchy material down her ribcage, along the slight indent of her waist and then over the curves of her hips.
“Not a damn thing.” Michael muttered his eyes appreciative for the view.
Coach Gresser pointed his finger right at Michael shaking his head, “that’s what’s wrong with the dress, right there.” Yup, closest thing she’d have to a father.
“You’re sitting at our table. Doris can’t wait to see you, young lady.” Rosy would be lucky if she wasn’t nothing but a puddle by the time the night was through. Doris and Gary had been married for over fifty years but one would never guess that by the way they looked at each other.
Must be nice.
Clayton was ready to leave fifteen minutes after arriving and they hadn’t even made it through the room yet. He hadn’t even seen the Coach. Katie, or as she instructed him to call her, Kathryn clutched him like she feared for her life if she’d let go.
This is going to be a long night.
This was the last place he wanted to be. But it wasn’t as if he could be where he wanted to be anyhow he supposed…inside Roxy, again. One night only. One night only. One night—no, you know what? Fuck that. No matter how many times he reminded himself of her words, Clayton couldn’t find the logic in them. Because, there wasn’t any. For tonight he’d smile for pictures and keep idle conversation but come tomorrow, he’d find a way to get a hold of his rehabilitation therapist one way or another.
Roxy had seen Clayton come in with his date. A petite blonde with the body of a nymph. Of-freaking-course. Not like she had a claim on the man, but like any red-blooded woman who had just been fucked nine ways ’til Sunday by the sexy man as recently as this morning….she’d rather his date look like a troll. Ugh. Probably had a great sense of humor, baked the world’s best cookies, and knitted blankets for orphans or something, too. She had figured he’d be here, but hadn’t thought about him with a date—not her favorite thing it turns out.
He’d shaken hands with what seemed like a thousand people. Taken hundreds of pictures—perhaps he was exaggerating a bit but it felt like it. And, quite honestly if another person asked him if he’d be ready for pre-season again he might just scream. Mostly because, he wasn’t sure of the answer. Thankfully, the dinner and awards would be starting soon.
That’s when he saw her or at least he thought he did.
“Excuse me Kate-Kathryn, find our table would you? I’ll be right there.” He didn’t wait to hear his date whine because he knew she would. She’d be fine without him for a few minutes, seriously. There was clingy and then there was Katie—Kathryn, whatever.
Making his way across the room in record speed, Clayton had surprised himself. Lights dimmed at that moment signaling it was time for guests to take their seats. Not an option at that moment.
It was her, he’d swear by it. Clayton had only seen a brief glimpse of her retreating back, but he’d learned that frame as well as his own over the past twenty-four hours. Roxy. Her hair was in some fancy up-do and gone were the torn jeans; in their place a black gown that hugged her ever so rightly.
How wrong was it that he hadn’t even needed to see her face to know it was she?
Following the long wall just under the high vaulted ceilings, Clayton came to a hall that darkened and narrowed. She had to have gone this way, so he did, too.
Every time the door opened, he held his breath, expecting to see her exit the ladies room. Both times, it hadn’t been her. Third times a charm, right?
Clayton didn’t even give her a chance to see him before he spoke, “I have to say you are the most gorgeous creature I’ve seen thus far, Roxy.”
“Creature? As in Swamp Thing or Bigfoot?” she responded. Then that laugh.
God, that laugh.
“You know what I meant.”
“Probably not, but that’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I should get to my date.”
“Your date?” He asked through clenched teeth.
Turning around, Roxy finally made eye contact with him for the first time. His blue eyes looked….forlorn?
“Yes, I wasn’t about to come alone tonight. I’m a tough chick, but come on.” Her attempt at humor was wasted on him.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Well, that hadn’t come out right, and he realized how it sounded.
Dammit! Clayton saw the flash of hurt on her face before she caught herself. Squaring her shoulders, standing straighter, a slight smirk on her face she said, “Sorry to disappoint you, Karz.”
“Disappoint me? Completely the opposite. I was just trying to figure out how I could get the Coach to give me your cell phone number.” He was handsome but in a strong, virile—I’ve been hit by a Mack truck kinda way. Obviously, his nose had been broken a time or two, that slight imperfection drew her more than if he had been flawless. A scar crossed his right eyebrow and his hair needed to be trimmed badly. It all called to her. He called to her.
“Why would you need my number?” Roxy asked after she realized she had been staring.
Clayton’s grin was a sight to behold. “So I could call you. I should’ve gotten it from you earlier, but I’ll admit to being in a bit of a haze this morning.”
Haze? Roxy wondered what he meant by that? Was he trying to give the impression he wasn’t in the right mind? That’s why he had sex with her? Three freaking times.
Oh God! She wasn’t dealing with this now or here. His regret was too much. Not letting it happen again—she could do, but him regretting it was another story. Her brain screamed for her legs to move. Flee!
Turning away from him, Roxy listened to her head and willed herself to walk away.
What the hell? He stood there. As if his feet were cemented to the floor, Clayton watched her walk away from him and he didn’t even mutter a word. He’d admit that he was almost always the one being pursued, but he rather liked the feeling of being the pursuer for once. Although, Roxy walking away from him when he confessed that she left him in a fog after spending just one night with her having off the charts sex and witnessing her rough edges soften…confused him. One night she had said—hell, she had been insistent on it. But, surely she had changed her mind, after all—that was one helluva night.
They needed to talk, but not here. For now, he’d follow through with his commitment as star quarterback for Pittsburgh because many of these teens looked up to him. Disappointing them wasn’t an option. Soon enough, they’d get this straightened out and there would be no walking away from him like that again or that luscious ass of hers would have a Clayton Karz palm imprint branded on that smooth skin of hers.
Jesus, all I need is to return to my mindless date with a raging hard-on.
Chapter 15
Kat-Kathryn’s golden hair should have caught his attention, but it didn’t. It was the woman who had awakened his libido and knocked his confidence down a level at the same time. Roxy. Her hair shone by candlelight like it was meant for it. The streak of blue looked flirty and fun but it fit, she fit. At the clinic, she stuck out like a flame—a blue flame, but here she fit. Beside his colleagues, trainers and coaches, Roxy blended effortlessly.
Clayton found his date sitting at their table, which they shared with Coach Gresser, his wife, tight end Nathaniel Ghaye and his date. And, his rehabilitation therapist and her date—none other than his teammate and one of the best wide receivers in the game, Michael Brooks.
What in the hell was that about?
Just hours before, he had joked around with Brooks in the locker room; the man confessed that he was bringing “a hottie with an hourglass body.” Now those words pissed him off even if they rang true. Never in a million years would he have guessed Michael meant Roxy. How in the hell did they even know each other? And, why the hell did he hate the fact that they did?
That had him remembering the first day he’d met Roxy and her asking him if he had pain during sex—he answered with a no but the truth was that he hadn’t gotten laid since before the surgery….before Roxy. There hadn’t been a woman or a….craving? Is that the right word? Nah. The situation had presented itself to him and his mojo had gone into hiding, you could say. Urge! Yeah, there’s the word—he hadn’t had the urge for sex until now. Now, he was urging all over the place and the only partner he urged for was Roxy. He wanted to urge inside of her, front, back, hell, he wanted to urge all over her face if he could.
Sweet Jesus, there’s a visual.
Talk at the table had ranged from music, baseball, to the upcoming football season. Dinner had been served and awards had been given out to many deserving teens. Clayton was proud to be a part of it after seeing how happy the kids were when he was there to shake hands with them and give his congratulations.
Throughout all of it, his eyes kept searching her out. It was awkward that they were so close to each other yet not so close to each other at the same time. He didn’t like it one bit. He especially didn’t like the way Michael kept his arm draped across the back of her chair as if he was staking claim. He sure as shit didn’t like when Michael would lean into Roxy’s space and whisper in her ear. And, what the fuck was he whispering anyways? And why was she smiling?
“In case you forgot, I’m your date, not Miss Piggy over there.” He heard Kathryn’s words, but quite honestly, he had to replay them in his head about five times before he really registered she was talking about Roxy.
“I know you’re my date.” The unfortunately went unsaid. “And, I don’t know who you’re calling Miss Piggy, but I sure hope it’s nobody at this table.” Clayton knew, of course he knew, but he also knew he didn’t want to hear it again.