“Am not.” Clayton whispered against her lips before closing the distance. “You are.” Kiss. “Incredibly rockin’.” Kiss. “An hourglass figure.” Kiss. “Like nobody’s business.” Kiss. “But mine.” This time the kiss was far more than a brief peck.
Maybe she wasn’t too sore and maybe just a little bit more time spent with him wouldn’t do any more harm. After that though, he was leaving and Roxy wouldn’t be seeing anymore of sexy-ass quarterback Clayton Karz until his appointment come tomorrow morning.
Chapter 18
Thursday, November 28th Thanksgiving Day Game 2013
On the road again playing in Denver. He had 38 completions in 48 attempts, with that one damn interception that shouldn’t have happened. His fault—Clayton knew that. Brooks had caught thirteen passes that day for one of the highest ranking teams in the league.
THIS was the game that really proved where you were going this season. Everything up until this point was merely practice. Okay, maybe not according to the sportscasters or the hometown boys, but the coaching staff took Thanksgiving games serious and every game after twice as much. No more room for mistakes. No more room for improvement. Your ass had better be on the ball…literally.
Pittsburgh? Had one helluva a practice session—it just happened to last the whole first twelve weeks of the football season. Consider it a head start.
To say Clayton Karz was flying high was an understatement of epic proportions—not just him, his leading wide receiver Brooks, hell, the whole Pittsburgh team.
He had noticed the pain for the millionth time in his neck during that game. He had ignored the pain in his neck for the millionth time that day.
Fourth quarter and here they are, tied and only seconds on the clock. Pittsburgh’s Bryce Borgdenn’s foot connected with the ball and the whole Mile High Stadium stood in silence as the far from seamless field goal was deflected and knocked the crossbar before dropping…over.
HOLYSHIT IT WAS GOOD!
Pittsburgh took the uncertain win with a 30-29 final score.
Clayton found himself instantly pummeled. The nagging pain he had tried to ignore the entire game was now intensified tenfold. No longer was there a burning sensation accompanied by some painful tingling. No, now? Now, there were full-blown lightning bolts shooting down his spine. They started from the back of his head straight down to his tailbone. And every time he moved his arms, he felt as if he was going to collapse.
That’s when he knew, he knew that his career as a quarterback was over.
It hadn’t even been a full year since that day and here he was with a completely different mindset, all thanks to the vibrant woman who haunted his every thought as of late. Roxy was determined that she’d have him back where he belonged, right behind the offensive line leading his team from the huddle onward.
She hadn’t lied about upping his rehabilitation therapy—not one iota. Monday found him with another rehabilitation therapist performing stupid human tricks in search of a second opinion. Roxy’s idea.
Tuesday had him working on core strengthening and stabilization exercises. Roxy’s idea. She informed him that he’d be performing these exercises every morning first thing, positive it would aide him in the long run.
By Thursday? She had him beginning a whole new, far more intense endurance and strength training program focusing on his lower extremity muscles as well as his trunk.
Roxy had him in the Roman chair working out for a minimum of 30 minutes at a time twice a day. She had dropped his weights down to a pitiful twenty-pound limit. Clayton had argued with her on that one…and lost. Talk about a kick to the balls. He hadn’t lifted twenty pounds since carrying in the groceries. Pitiful.
He walked away from that fight—could’ve said more, but he didn’t.
If only he was usually that smart but nah, not him. Why he liked to battle with her was a mystery, but hell if he didn’t. God, did she ever get pissed and damn did he ever get hard. That right there? That was a whole new fucked up world for him. Normally a pissed off woman meant Clayton Karz was heading the other direction and generally at a high rate of speed, but not with her, not with Roxy. The more mad she got the more turned on he got. Probably because he couldn’t stop imagining what she would be like in bed in a rage. He had had her every way but ticked.
To top it off he had to hear from the Coach at Friday’s practice that he was restricted from taking any contact hits per Roxy’s orders. To say he was pissed—didn’t even come close to reality.
What the hell is that about?
Who the fuck does she think she is?
He’d follow along with her training shit, but her changing the rules with his coaching staff and taking him out of practicing with his team? Too much. Jesus, he could only throw the ball so many times and call so many plays without the follow through.
He’d left practice early and was soon on his way to the Cherry Hill Clinic to speak his mind. He didn’t give a shit if she was with another patient or not—his team had brought her in for him, dammit. And she was going to hear him out. No way would he let her talk him down this time, she was the one in the wrong—not him.
Clayton hadn’t realized how distracted he was driving until he ground the hell outta fifth gear. No. Way. To. Treat. A. Mustang.
Flipping on the radio, he tried to calm himself with a little Fallout Boy. Didn’t work.
It wasn’t only the fact she put him on restrictions without filling him in on that detail, but that she’d been avoiding him since last weekend. They had spent Friday night after the banquet together and half the day on Saturday. Hell, they hadn’t even made it out of bed until the afternoon that day. He’d seen her every day at the clinic. Roxy was leading his therapy sessions and practically taking on the role as his personal trainer. All because she didn’t want him to aggravate his injury further. But after hours? Roxy blew him off time and time again. Claiming she had plans or paperwork.
Paperwork? He was being ditched for paperwork.
Thursday she didn’t even give him an excuse. Nope, she had simply left before he was out of the shower after his session and didn’t answer her phone when he called. The hiding from him was ending today. He’d find her and they’d have this out.
Pulling up to the clinic, he didn’t see Roxy’s Land Rover. Biting the bullet, Clayton ventured inside. Missy was happy to see him at least—if that counted for anything? It didn’t. Shamelessly, she sat up straighter, arched her back which put her tits on display for him…apparently her intent. Greeting him with a smile that bordered on a delusionally happy and heavily medicated psych patient, the receptionist greeted him with far too much enthusiasm.
“Hey Clay, what are you doing here on a Friday?”
The woman had called him Clay. What in the…. When Roxy called him Clay, he loved it—it was sweet and sexy at that same time coming from her lips. With Missy? Ahh…not so much.
“It’s Clayton. I’m looking for Roxy, she in her office?”
He started in that direction before Missy yelled to him, “She’s not in, Clayton. Maybe I can help you?”
The look on her face was clear that she had just offered herself.
Jesus, had he found this slutty behavior sexy at one time?
No, not sexy, but easy quick sex was something he had been fond of for years.
I must be getting old or my tastes have changed and now I prefer difficult, pain in the ass women who don’t let you get away with shit.
“Missy? You’re a lovely woman, but I’m not interested.” he heard himself say the words and was just as surprised by them as she was. “Do you know where she is?”
“She came in for about an hour this morning for a conference call about a new position in San Diego—some football player…then left. I haven’t seen her since and doubt she’ll be back until Monday.” Missy eyed him suspiciously. “Are you two seeing each other?”
YES! Not as much as I’d like to, but that’s going to change. But, we ARE together. Feel free to spr
ead that bit of info like wildfire.
It wasn’t his place to answer for her in her workplace—even though he wanted to tell her, tell that damn trainee Skippy boy, too. Most of all? He wanted to tell Brooks that Roxy was his, and he’d be best to keep away from her.
“See you Monday, Missy.” was all that he said as he walked back out those glass doors.
Apartment 17B, Vista Towers was his next stop.
Chapter 19
She had needed this bike ride more than she had realized. This week had been wearing on her like no other. Despising Karz was far easier to deal with than the insane attraction she had to him. The man had her body primed and ready at any second of the day and she doubted he even knew it. Assisting him as he went through his new routine was killing her. Never had she had such physical responses when helping a patient through the daily grind. His muscles tensed and straining for control had her staring so long her eyes burned. Grunting? My god! She doubted he realized he made those same grunts whenever he was exerting himself whether it be working out or working her out. Even the scent of his sweat made her kitty purr.
Since when is sweat sexy? Since you worked up a real good lather yourself with the man on more than one occasion.
A spin on her Suzuki helped but nowhere near calmed her aroused nerves. Her body was a host to uncontrollable tingles and clenches that went off without warning from her chest to her sex.
As she parked her bike next to her SUV in her reserved parking spots, she felt her cell vibrate. Pulling off her helmet she took her phone out of her bra and saw it was Gary.
“Hey Coach, what can I do for you, sir?” she smiled as she heard him laugh over the line.
“What’s this Coach crap, Sunshine?”
“Just giving you grief because I know you love it.”
“True, very true.” Silence for a few seconds worried her. Was it Karz? “I’m calling to give you a heads up. Clayton left here, and he wasn’t happy about the no contact restriction—“
“Did you tell him it was only for a week?” she asked. All she needed was to deal with a pissed off quarterback right now—especially when all she could think about was jumping his bones again.
“I didn’t get a chance. I wanted to talk to him off the field, but Doug told him he could head out before I got the chance to talk to him. I…well, I figured he’d come to you face to face since you two are an item.”
She stopped breathing, actually stopped breathing. He knew? How the hell did he know?
“Sir?” playing dumb was her first instinct.
“I see Clayton didn’t tell you that I knew about you two, huh?”
She wouldn’t lie to Gary ever. “No sir, he didn’t. It wasn’t something planned—“
He interrupted her. “No need for explanations, Roxy.” Taking a breath, he continued. “I didn’t plan to fall for my younger brothers ex-girlfriend all those decades ago either but it’s worked out for us pretty darn well.”
She smiled because he was right.
“I know, but Clay is my patient; that’s crossing a line I never intended to cross…again.” Sighing, Roxy realized that’s exactly what she was doing though.
“Kevin was an ass, Sunshine. Plain and simple, he was an ass and not a very good running back either. I was kinda surprised you were with the lug head in the first place.” This time they both laughed. “And, he played for Jacksonville. I mean really?” Both laughed harder at that.
“Kevin was a mistake. I’m worried I’m doing the same with Clayton, but I’m not going into it naively like I did with Kevin. I’m not expecting anything other than some good times.”
Silence.
“What if Clayton wants more than that?”
“He’s one of the top quarterbacks in the game, Gary. When he comes back this season, I’d put money that he breaks Mr. Good Ol’ Cheese Head’s passing touchdown record. And if he hangs in there another year or two? Honestly, Clayton Karz just might hold the new record for passing yards, too—“
“And I’m confused on what that has to do with you two?” he asked.
“Karz will have a helluva ride the next couple years and I’m not looking to be any kind of roadblock for him—for anyone. And I’m ready to start getting serious with my personal life and we both know a ball player isn’t the way to go for that.” her attempt to lighten the mood with a laugh was wasted on the older man.
“I love you and because I do, I’m gonna tell you that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard in my life. Ballplayer or not, Clayton Karz is a man and guess what, Sunshine? Even men like Karz have a heart—so don’t you go taking him outta the game before he’s even had a chance to play, understood?”
“Always the coach, huh?” she smiled to herself even with burning eyes. He was right, after all, but Roxy couldn’t help but think she was, too. Only time would tell, right?
A loud chuckle rang over the line. “You can count on that. Now, Doris wants you two to come over Sunday for dinner. Believe it or not, no practice, no meetings—not a damn thing this Sunday. I’m going to watch the Pirates game and not leave my recliner until dinner.”
Oh my god!
“Umm…I will definitely come. As for Clay? We don’t really do things like that.” Now she really felt like a heel admitting that to a man as close to a father as she’d ever get again.
Nope, just sex—you don’t think we actually date do you?
“We’d be happy to have ya. And, Sunshine? Ask Karz; he’d be happy to accompany you, what man wouldn’t? See you Sunday.”
“It’s a date.” Pressing end on her cell Roxy sat there for a minute considering what Gary had said but decided he was biased.
That’s when she felt it. She was still straddling her bike in the parking garage just yards from her apartment door. The concrete walls were well lit but still eerily quiet. Goose bumps covered her skin, her shoulders tightened; she still breathed but did so quietly as she listened for the slightest noise…she wasn’t alone.
You have mace in your boot, keep breathing, get off your bike, and haul ass into the apartment.
Clayton watched as she pulled up on the crotch-rocket—the Hayabusa from the clinic. Same white helmet with the mirrored lens and this time he knew the tattoos, dammit, he knew those tattoos well. That figure that had awakened his libido a couple weeks ago was no longer a mystery. No, he had carnal knowledge of that curvaceous frame. Of course, it was her. Why hadn’t he figured it out sooner? Why? Because, after spending that first night with Roxy, he hadn’t thought about the mystery woman again. But here she was—the woman he was lusting after whether she was hidden beneath a helmet, decked out in a gorgeous gown or dressed in her Cherry Hill Clinic polo shirt. It was all Roxy.
Just as his body had reacted to the first time he’d seen her straddle the bike—Clayton was so hard it hurt. Knowing it was Roxy only made it a hundred times better. He was leaning against his car willing his erection away to no avail. Which pissed him off—he was ticked at her, ticked about the no contact restriction she hadn’t told him about, ticked that she dodged him all week long. Yet, here he stood next to his car parked in one of 17D’s empty parking spaces in the far corner. Still sporting wood, still watching her, and unfortunately even more pissed than he was before.
No time like the present.
Walking toward Roxy, he picked up speed when he saw her get off the bike and follow the concrete wall leading toward the apartments.
Running up, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a date, huh? Anybody I know?” he asked.
“Jesus!” she yelped.
“No, just me.” His cocky grin wasn’t as irresistible as it usually was—no, this time it made her want to smack it right off of his smug yet handsome face.
“You scared the hell outta me, you jackass!” Shoving him away did nothing but make him come back even closer than before.
“Oh, I highly doubt that. I doubt anything scares you, tough girl. You don’t need anybody—you just do as you pl
ease, including fucking with other people’s lives, right?”
Whoa, was he ever pissed. Gary warned her he’d be mad, but this was a little overboard; the restriction would only last a week and it was for the best.
“Calm down! Contact restrictions will only last a week. It’s what’s best for your recovery. I’m thinking the inflammation is up again—restrictions will make sure that doesn’t happen for a week. That paired with your new therapy might just work—“
“Why couldn’t YOU tell me? Why did I have to hear it from the o-line Coach?” Clayton’s eyes searched her face searching for something, guilt maybe?
“Does it matter who told you, really?” she asked.
“Yeah, it does matter.” Thing was, he looked almost hurt when he answered her.
Silence stretched between them—some kind of twisted staring contest. She wasn’t willing to apologize, and he wasn’t backing down either.
Two can play this game, dumb-ass.
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Roxy looked right into his eyes. “I guess we both lack in the sharing department, huh?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She countered with, “I’m talking about Gary telling me,” motioning quotations “that you and I are an item. That would’ve been nice to know and by the way fucking each other’s brains out doesn’t make us an item—“
She fought him for all of ten seconds before the hands that pushed him away were pulling him closer. And the mouth that was clamped tight was soon parted and welcoming his tongue as he traced the seam before delving inside.
Pulling away from her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers trying to regain his breath.
“Don’t—just don’t ever cheapen what we’re doing together like that again.” Clayton closed his eyes as he allowed his thumbs to caress her jawbone fighting an internal struggle with what to say next.
He sighed.
He didn’t know where to go or what to say next. Knowing Roxy wasn’t your run-of-the-mill female, he was confused and more than a little lost. He’d promise her whatever she wanted, but Clayton knew Roxy wouldn’t ask for anything. He would soothe her problems away, but she’d been caring for herself for years and wouldn’t ask him for help. Dammit. Clayton would love on her as long as she’d let him but her tough girl side would be too prideful to let that happen.
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