“Clay—“
“No, I’m serious, Roxy. You really think that’s all we are? A quick fuck?”
She shrugged.
Direct hit. Man down, man down!
Taking her helmet from her grasp with his left hand, Clayton towed her behind him with his right hand. Roxy practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides.
Stopping in front of her door, “open it.” he ordered.
As Roxy turned the key, before she could open the door, bomb number two of the day hit.
“Hey Karz, whatchya doing here, brotha?” Michael Brooks said as he walked up carrying his gym bag. Fresh from practice—no doubt.
No cheapening what we’re doing together. His own words played in his head when he looked at Brooks.
“I’m about to show my woman that we are so much more than a few rolls in the sack. I’ll catch ya later, bud.” he didn’t care if Michael was left standing there confused or not—he had more important things on his mind.
After nudging Roxy inside of her apartment, when she flipped on him.
“What in the fucking hell was that, Karz?” she asked in a far too calm voice.
Call him a chauvinistic pig, but he felt the need to let the wide receiver know that his neighbor was off limits, off the market, taken…his. Maybe she expected an apology or something, but that would be the last thing he would be giving her.
“What? He needed to know you’re off limits.” He set her helmet down on the library table in the hall as he walked toward the back of the apartment.
“Your woman? And that?” Her glare dared him to answer. Roxy expected him to back down—most men in her private life before would’ve…that was the problem.
“Exactly what I said.”
He stopped just outside her bedroom door and waited for her there. Taking her hands in his, he wrapped her arms around his neck as he nuzzled her neck before whispering in her ear.
“Either I told him you were my woman and brought you in here to make love to you or” he released a long sigh. “I whipped out my dick and pissed on you because, in case you didn’t know, I was marking my territory, sweetheart.” Clayton had the nerve to chuckle at himself.
He felt her smile against his temple; that’s when it hit him—he wanted nothing more than to be the one to keep her smiling.
Roxy was mad at herself. On one hand, Clayton’s caveman like behavior set off her feministic alarm bells at deafening levels. But, then there was this part of her—the part of her ran strictly by estrogen and Dove chocolate that was doing cartwheels over his staking his claim on her as if she belonged to him. She had never really belonged to anyone—she had never really wanted to belong to anyone.
Did she want to belong to Clayton Karz? Professional football player, ruggedly sexy man and all around pain in her ass. Him? Really?
This is gonna hurt so badly when the time comes, isn’t it? Yes. No need for anyone else to answer her question, Roxy knew.
“C’mon, you and I and not one second of us will be anything but absolutely perfect.” Walking backward, he hugged her close to his body; he was beyond blissful that she came willing. He was not even sure when his anger left. And he didn’t even care.
Chapter 20
Naked on her bed with a very handsome—also naked man was a dang good start to a Friday night in her book. Clayton hadn’t been lying that he was going to show her how perfect they could be together. No flying clothes. No hurried touches or rushed kisses. Instead, he undressed her slowly, showing his appreciation for the curve of her hips. He followed the way her waist tapered before acknowledging the fullness of her breasts. The simple action of getting undressed had her nearing tears. She couldn’t recall being worshipped before. Lusted? Yes. Worshipped. No.
“I’m telling you upfront that I’m not leaving tonight and tomorrow we’re gonna talk. But for now, I want nothing but to be with you.”
Where had this man come from? He was so far from the man from that first night and the ice cube it was hard to believe.
Reaching inside her nightstand, Clayton found one of the purple foil squares he had left behind the night he spent with her. Before he could open it, Roxy spoke. “I’m on the pill so…it’s up to you.”
And she blushed.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded.
Opening the drawer, Clayton dropped the condom back in then closed it.
He kissed her, the kind that immediately melted brain cells and nothing else registered but the word more, more, more. Nibbling his way down her throat, his big hands went to work seducing the rest of her body. He talked her most female of regions into softening and dampening for him by teasing her clit with sweeping motions repeated over and over with his middle finger. Unable to resist just one feel, he slipped the digit inside her and held his breath as he felt her sex greedily hold him there trying to pull him deeper. Mercy. That’d be his cock shortly. His unsheathed cock at that.
His mouth covered her soft gasps, and he swallowed her shallow whimpers. Kissing her hungrily. Her tongue met his, stroke for stroke, sliding against his.
When Roxy let her hands begin to wander down his shoulders and across his chest to his nipples, Clayton took her wrists in his hand, shaking his head.
“This is about me showing you this time. I’m the quarterback, sweetheart, I make the calls.” One corner of his mouth turned up before he leaned forward to tongue one her nipples before switching to the other then back again.
God, he loved her breasts. He had never considered himself a boob man—more of an ass man himself, but Clayton now knew he was just a Roxy man.
Rubbing his end of the day stubble across the smooth globes, he smiled when he felt her shudder. Licking up and then straight back down her cleavage had him picturing his dick sliding in between them instead. Jesus. He used his teeth to lightly bite the pink tips and watched as they tightened further into points.
“Enough, Clay, enough.” she begged.
Situating himself over her there was no need to steer himself—his cock knew its way to paradise on its own. Nudging her entrance, he allowed himself to indulge in the pure eroticism of feeling the warmth and wetness escaping her. Just as he was about to push into her body, one that arched attempting to close the distance between their bodies, Clayton stopped and asked the question that had been nagging him.
“What’s your real name? It’s not Roxanne, is it?” He squinted at her. “Or is it?”
Out of all the things he could have asked, she didn’t expect that one. She never—absolutely never used her real name. She’d never wanted to tell anyone before. But she wanted to tell him now.
“You can tell me anything. It’ll just stay between us if that’s what you want. I just want to know everything about you.” She could get lost in his eyes. “I want to know you—all of you.” Moments like this, with words like those, and she could almost taste the heartbreak coming, but the memories would be worth it, she had decided.
“Samantha Aurora Shaw, pleasure to meet you.”
He grinned before he kissed her.
“Samantha Aurora, huh? It’s beautiful—it’s perfect for you.” Clayton wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. Wasn’t sure if it was the fact she had trusted him enough to confide in him or because he liked the way Samantha rolled off his tongue when he looked at her.
Sighing, “I always thought it was so girlie—too girlie. Roxy fit and gave me some street cred, I guess. I wanted to be taken seriously by the players I worked with. Samantha is too friendly sounding to deal with knucklehead athletes.”
“I’m pretty sure you just called me a knucklehead, but I’m fine with that—it’s a step up from some of the shit you call me, daily.”
Damn that cocky grin was lethal.
Shaft hot and hard against her sex, Clayton hissed when her hand closed around him and squeezed before directing him into her body. Pushing deeper into her in one slow drawn out motion, Clayton had to fight for bre
ath as he saw her eyes glaze over when he was fully seated in the hot haven of her pussy.
Clayton let himself look at her—really look at the woman below him…Samantha. Umm…wow, yeah, Rox-Samantha was…beautiful and his. And he liked her—possibly loved her. Like really loved her. How had she made him do that?
Was it the way her pierced tits pressed between them that had his mind racing with all the scenarios that involved him, her, and those babies. He wanted to dominate her—be the one in charge of her pleasure. Oh, he’d get her there just fine.
Chest-to-breast, hard abs-to-belly that was slightly rounded and as soft as the rest of her, Clayton went completely wolfish on her. Cliched hungry male consuming pliable female. Rocking his pelvis, his cock penetrated her wet responsive sex, over and over. He hadn’t been inside a woman before without a barrier. After feeling this taste of heaven on earth, Clayton was positive it’d kill him to roll on another condom. Hopefully, she’d never ask him to wear one again. When had he started thinking of sex—infinity kinda sex as being with her…only her?
Not that she wasn’t enjoying herself, she was, but Clayton was making her nervous. He’d started looking at her with heat that blazed off the charts but he soon looked distracted. Was it her?
Letting her hands wander, she was stopped again. “My plays, remember?” he asked.
“You seemed distracted. I thought I’d bring you back to me—“
“Oh, trust me; I never left you. You’re in my head all the time—even now. I have you where I wanted you all week long, but I’m already thinking of how I want to take you next time.”
Her green eyes look pleased by his reply. Clayton had meant every word. The revelation that he loved her—okay, liked her…. a lot, had been coming since day one. Not that he had thought that at the time. Nonetheless, the day had come.
Skimming his lips down her neck, he whispered against her skin, words that had her body shuddering and her heart utterly melting. Damn him. Soft sweet endearments from such a brute of a man would be her undoing.
“You and me—“
“Make no sense?” she asked with a smirk.
“No, not at all. We make perfect sense together.” Slow retreats with a quick push inside of her Clayton asked, “You telling me that doesn’t make sense? Really? Because I understand your body perfectly right now.” With exquisite precision, he kissed her until she couldn’t breathe and her core started the tell-tale signs of her upcoming orgasm. Light flutters caressed his cock, encouraging him to continue, encouraging him to push her over that ledge.
“Clay—“
Roxy felt him twitch inside of her and looked him in the eyes.
“See? We understand each other perfectly.” he teased her.
Keeping their lovemaking slow and steady was something new for them. Normally, they were crazed and hurried, but not this time. Yet, it didn’t lack a lick of passion. If anything, she felt it even more. Every kiss—no matter how light had meaning. Every touch, caress served a purpose other than sexual satisfaction. Every thrust her hips met against his had more significance than seeking a climax.
He was right…they made sense—at that moment, they were the only two people in the world that did. It was hard to believe anyone else could have this connection she felt at this very second with this very man.
“You feel it. I can see in your face, I can feel it inside of you—you feel it.” Threading his fingers through hers, he stretched them above her head. No fast slams—slow languid movements.
“I-I feel it.” she said hardly audible.
Her acceptance…thank God she didn’t fight it, like she fought everything else.
When that tingling began to run its course up and down his spine, Clayton was tempted to try to breathe through it—wait for her. No need. A sexy moan slipped from those pouty lips and her body bowed upwards. Watching her with a focus he often lacked, Clayton had never seen a more beautiful sight than Rox-Samantha in the throes of ecstasy beneath him.
An almost feral moan came from her before she bit into her lip.
Clayton lost control. Letting the sensations takeover his body, he thrust a bit harder, a bit faster and tossed back his head and came with her name rolling off his tongue. “Samantha—“
“Oh Clay….” Was all she could manage until her orgasm stole her from him—only briefly.
Kisses to her eyelids, nose, and chin brought her back to him. He brought her back to him. Who was this man?
Instead of pulling himself from her body, Clayton kept them intimately joined as he laid his head upon her chest. He smiled to himself when his sweaty temple met the fine perspiration that covered her flesh. They were nothing if not hot together. There’d be no denying that.
He adjusted his weight, so he wasn’t smooshing her. “I just want to lay here like this…with you.”
Roxy didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.
He had heard when her breathing changed. She had fallen asleep with her hands interlaced in his hair.
They were so far past just some fun evenings it wasn’t even funny. Clayton hadn’t even been in this territory before. Not only inside a woman without a condom, but this level of intimacy. Before Roxy, he would’ve bolted if there had been any signs heading this direction. Here we was, passing signs that had neon lights and sirens blaring and the thought of turning back wasn’t an option. Nope, he was going full steam ahead and dragging her along kicking and screaming—hopefully in the throes of another mind-boggling orgasm. There was just too much at risk to walk away from. Too much.
Clayton caved into sleep with a peace he hadn’t felt, that peace had a beautiful name she kept hidden from everyone but him…Samantha.
Chapter 21
Roxy had expected the phone call before it came in. One certain irritated quarterback hadn’t liked the idea of acupuncture being added to his schedule every day. Oh well, he’d learn to deal with it—it was only for the next twelve days.
She had flown into Dallas on a redeye. Roxy was there to checkout a clinic—a possible permanent place for her practice. Doctors David Brown and Stanley Monihan had approached her with a possible partnership opportunity. Her first reaction was to decline the offer, but the more she thought about it the more interested she became. It’s what she wanted. A clinic to work from—no more constant traveling and moving. Texas was also a plus in her book. Both Brown and Monihan were well-respected doctors and it would be an honor partnering with such a fine clinic but….
Her phone vibrated signaling an incoming text.
WHEN ARE YOU FLYING IN? Clayton asked.
TOMORROW
CAN’T YOU GET A FLIGHT TODAY?
There were plenty of flights. Hell, she could’ve flown out hours ago, but she needed time to think. Sitting in the Holiday Inn near the airport gave her the solitude to weigh her options on her own without Clayton Karz in her ear. Yeah right, he didn’t seem to leave her thoughts much these days. But she couldn’t revolve her decision around the unknown and he was definitely the unknown.
DIDN’T LOOK Liar
I MISS YOU. I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A GIRL, SHUTUP ;)
That did it. He did sound like a girl, but it still had her pulling up flights and booking one that left in an hour and forty-eight—no, forty-seven minutes. Shit! She had to book it to the airport and pray she could get through security fast enough to make the plane.
Another day of therapy without Samantha pushing him plain ol’ sucked ass. At least with the acupuncture she granted him a pardon from further yoga classes with Jenna, Jenessa? Dammit! Why couldn’t he remember that broad’s name?
Skippy counted laps for him and sent him back when Clayton came up two laps short. Two laps short of what Roxy said. Just to be a shit, Clayton did an additional six laps before surfacing “you think Roxy would be happy, now?”
The kid nodded and his solemn face felt like a kick to the gut. Just because he was nervous about Samantha’s sudden trip to Dallas didn’t mean he needed to be an ass to everyo
ne else. But she had been hired to be with him—take care of him—rehabilitate him, rather. Kinda hard to do when she’s states away.
They had spent Saturday together and that night. Sunday she had dinner plans with the Gresser’s. He sorta hoped she’d ask him along, but she hadn’t. Monday she had worked him over with her new therapy plan and then again later at his place once on the couch and twice in his bed. Clayton wasn’t sure if it was Samantha’s new practices or all the sex they’d been partaking in—either way, each practice on the field was better than the last. He still had numbness, but it was decreasing in strength and timeframe. Tuesday night she’d left for the lone-star state. It was Thursday now and two days was enough without seeing her and the crazy blue streak, smelling her and knowing he’d have that sweet scent on his skin later, hearing her giggle like a girl or, for the love of football, hearing her scream his name as she climaxed. He was hooked.
Roxy couldn’t believe she had made her flight and was back at the Cherry Hill Clinic within hours. Figuring Clayton was probably on his way to afternoon practice with the Pittsburgh coaching staff as along with the rest of the offensive line, she never thought to look to see if his Mustang or Escalade were in the parking lot. She’d catch up with the man tonight. First, she’d pick up some paperwork and see how Clayton’s therapy had gone the last couple of days.
Missy said nothing to her when she walked into the clinic. Okay. Fine with her. Setting her bags inside of her office, she decided to find Calvin and see if he noticed Clayton still favoring his right side as he swam. Not that the two had shared with Clayton that he didn’t fully extend his right arm during the breaststroke—no, they needed some secrets that he didn’t know about it. If he didn’t know he was doing it—he wouldn’t know to fake wellness when the day came to give the Coach her final diagnosis about the quarterback’s capabilities.
Touchdown and Dirty Page 12