Touchdown and Dirty

by Sidda Lee Rain

  “Yeah?” Clayton asked.

  He nodded. “When does she leave?”

  “Samantha’s flight leaves in two days, 9 hours and…” glancing at the clock, “thirty-seven minutes. Give or take a few minutes. My math skills aren’t the greatest,” Clayton shrugged.

  “She told you her name, huh?” Gary leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head, and smiled like Clayton had never seen him smile before. “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s pretty much classified information in her world. Very, very few know that girl’s given name. Consider yourself lucky, son.”

  ********

  It was cool for an August night. At least the sky was still light enough. It had just started getting darker a bit earlier, but tonight the sky stayed lit by thousands of stars. She’d ridden along Keystone Lake, which had become a favorite route of hers over the last couple of months. The air smelled of the water and of barbecue grills. Roxy loved this time of year. Football was just starting, hoodies would be her daily wardrobe soon enough, and the fall colors would make their appearance soon. Dallas would change all of those things but football. A small smile curved the corners of her mouth. Football had been the only consistent thing in her life. Year after year, Roxy knew ball would always be there. Who needed a man when you had 32 teams full of them?

  She’d felt her phone vibrate repeatedly in her back pocket. Knowing it was most likely Clayton, she’d simply ignored the calls and text messages. In two days, she’d be boarding a Delta flight straight into Dallas—it was better for her to start distancing herself from him the best she could. Cold turkey might just kill her. Okay, okay, so maybe that was being dramatic, but that’s how it felt.

  Knowing Clayton would look for her at her apartment, she kept driving. She kept riding with only her bike and killer tunes. Finally, pulling into the parking garage, she put her bike on the other side of her Land Rover. Roxy never parked there and her bike wasn’t visible to anyone pulling into the garage. She’d take tonight for herself. She was pretty much packed, but a long hot bath sounded like heaven after four and a half hours of cruising around on her bike. Michael’s vehicle wasn’t in his parking spot, hopefully that meant the boys had gone out after the game.

  Within minutes, Roxy was chin deep in bubbles and hot water. Her iPod played one of her favorite playlists from the portable speakers she had plugged in. Not answering Clay’s texts wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. A strangled laugh escaped her throat. It had only been a few hours and already she had been fighting the urge to cave in and call the man. Finally, giving in, she sent a text back.

  CONGRATS ON THE WIN, PUNK ASS ;)

  Seconds later, her phone chimed with a message from him.

  WHERE ARE U? CALL ME.

  She was tempted—oh so tempted.

  CALL U TOMORROW, K?

  Clayton answered right away.

  NOW, SAMANTHA.

  Ugh. She knew he’d argue with her on this.

  PHONES DYING. TOMORROW. NIGHT.

  She expected him to call bullshit, but to Roxy’s surprise, Clayton didn’t text or call. Tomorrow, she’d have to deal with his temper. Nothing she wasn’t used to already. They sure knew how to fight well together. Might make her sick, but fighting with Clayton was one of her favorite pastimes.

  Taking another sip from the vodka cranberry she had made herself, she briefly put the glass down before deciding against that. In a few swallows, the pink colored liquid was gone, the glass empty, and her stomach slowly getting warmer by the second. Life’s far too short to sip.

  Closing her eyes, Roxy let her head fall back against the towel she folded on the back of the tub and let herself relax. Yes, it was easier said than done. Yes, Clayton Karz invaded her thoughts. Yes, reality had her fighting emotions that she hadn’t even known she was capable of. Too many years of being nobody’s girl, nobody’s baby, had made her far too confident that she could do this with him: sex with no heart and playtime with no love. In the end, it was all a farce, all of it. She may not have been the girliest girl or the most romantic female, but it turned out that she still had a heart. That heart was capable of more than Roxy had ever given it credit for.

  Almost asleep in the cooling water, a loud banging woke her right up. Clayton. Dammit, she had told him tomorrow. Opening the drain, the water began to swirl out of the tub as she stood and wrapped herself in a bathrobe before going to her room to find clothing. She could be just as stubborn as he could. Shutting the door to her bedroom, the knocking became fainter. Mission accomplished.

  Or so she thought…

  Eventually, one knock turned into two. Somebody was at her front door and somebody was at her patio door. Michael Brooks might as well consider himself a dead man. After ten minutes of duel knocking, Roxy couldn’t stand it anymore. Another vodka cranberry hadn’t even helped, so she did what any responsible, depressed adult woman would do… she mixed herself another drink, then, she opened the damned door. She slid open the patio door and walked away, allowing Michael to follow her inside.

  “About time.” he said.

  Her eyes met his, “Maybe you could’ve taken the hint and left me the hell alone?” Roxy walked over to the couch, sat down, and curled her legs up with her arms around them tightly while sipping from her glass.

  Even in the darkness of the room, Michael could see the pain in her eyes. At one time, he had hoped for something more with his new neighbor, but instead, he had been placed in friend territory. With Roxy? He’d take it. And after seeing the way his buddy looked at her—he knew Roxy was meant for the determined lifelong bachelor. Karz had fallen for the feisty broad in record time and Michael would been happy to watch the show from the sidelines.

  “Roxy, you wouldn’t answer your phone or your door,” he sighed. “Karz is losin’ his shit, man.”

  He heard her sniffle. “He’s not the only one is he, sweetheart?”

  Roxy shook her head, but didn’t even attempt to speak knowing her voice couldn’t be trusted at the moment.

  “You need him as much as he needs you right now.” Michael walked over to where she sat on the couch and bent to kiss the top of her bowed head before walking toward the front door of the apartment where the knocking had finally ceased.

  Clayton almost fell over the threshold when the door finally opened. He had just sat on the ground with his back against the door a couple minutes earlier when he decided to try her cell again. But, just like before, it went straight to voicemail.

  Michael helped him up then said, “She’s in the living room, and she’s hurting.” His eyes met Clayton’s and without words conveyed the message loud and clear that he’d best take care of her. “I know you both are—whether you want to admit it or not— “

  “I’ve got no problems admitting that the woman owns me, Brooks. No problem at all.” His voice was low and sounded as broken as he’s felt for the last few hours. There was so much to talk about with her before it was too late. He feared that she might disappear without speaking to him first.

  Michael slapped him on the back and walked past him back to his apartment. Stopping once, he unlocked his door and opened it. “Take care of that girl in there. She’s a fireball, but she was somebody’s daughter, somebody’s little girl once and there was a time that she trusted men… it’s up to you to show her she can again.” The click of his closing door had Clayton replaying Michael’s words in his head over and over. He was right.

  Had he ever thought of Roxy that way?

  Walking inside her apartment, he was hit with her scent. Taking a deep breath just to fill himself with her fragrance, Clayton already felt better. Just being inside of her domain eased the frustration and downright pain he’d been feeling. The lights in the living room were off and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but he still knew she was there, he felt her.

  “Samantha?” Why had he whispered her name? He wasn’t sure.

  Walking over to the couch, he knelt in front of it and, without waiting for an
answer, he wrapped his arms around her middle and held as tight as he dared. Feeling her body shake would’ve been enough to hurt his heart, but he’d been in pain since he’d found out that she’d agreed to take the position in Dallas. They stayed like that for minutes, ten, twenty, he didn’t know. Taking her by the hand, he pulled her behind him down the hall. Her bedroom was illuminated only by the moonlight spilling through the blinds.

  Chapter 28

  Clayton cupped her face in his hands and kissed her ever so gently. Never taking it deeper or pushing for more. He wanted her. But he wanted what she was ready for. What she wanted more than her next breath. Running his knuckles against her damp cheeks, “I need to hold you. Please, just let me hold you.” This kiss was needy and sought permission, which she granted by pulling off her black yoga pants and climbing into bed. Without words, he rid himself of his shoes and jeans before settling between the sheets himself. Sitting up, he pulled his shirt up and over his head tossing it onto the pile of his clothing.

  Neither spoke a single word as they situated themselves in the quickly warming sheets. He moved to the center of the bed and pulled her to him. Roxy nestled her backside to Clayton’s front, his full muscular body heating her like a human sized heating pad. They stayed like this for a long while, both soaking in the feel of the other.

  Finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, Clayton whispered into her ear. “You’re so soft. I have no clue how you stay so soft.” His hand ran up and down her hip, dipping into the curve of her waist until his fingers grazed the under swell of her breast beneath her T-shirt. Roxy smiled in the darkness but said nothing.

  Clayton nuzzled his nose deep within her hair and inhaled without shame. “I’ve never known anyone who smelled as good as you do. Sometimes your scent just fills my senses in the middle of the day when you’re not even around. How do you do that?” Her smile faded and was replaced by tight lips and clenched teeth. He was killing her here.

  “I have never needed or wanted a woman as much as I do you.” She heard him take a deep breath before he continued. “My day isn’t complete without you in it.” Clayton chuckled. “Doesn’t matter if you’re chewing my ass or digging your nails into mine as you orgasm.” He released a stuttered breath. “I just need you—need to see you… every day. It hurts when I can’t lay my eyes on you. When I can’t touch you. I don’t even remember when that started. It seems like forever ago.” Surprise came through in his tone. She’d find it funny if she hadn’t had to focus so hard on not breaking down completely.

  Still, Roxy said nothing.

  Shifting himself gave Clayton room to pull Roxy onto her back. With the room still drenched in darkness, he could only make out the shine of unshed tears in her eyes and the firm set of those lips that he craved.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, kissed the corners of her mouth, and then kissed the lonely tear escaping the corner of her right eye. The salty taste hit him but not as hard as the fact that she was hurting. Clayton only hoped he could stop it… for the both of them.

  Roxy closed her eyes tight, trying her damnedest to hold her emotions in, hold the tears that were fighting for control.

  “Samantha?” Lifting her chin with his finger, he continued when their eyes locked. “I want you to look at me when I… when I tell you that I love you.”

  No response. Nothing. She just stared at him without so much as a gasp, a smile, nothing.

  “Samantha?”

  Then outta nowhere, and with no warning, Clayton found himself on his back. Roxy took both hands and shoved him as hard as she could against the chest before leaving the bed.

  “Get out of here, right now!” First, he was hit with his discarded clothing and it was his mistake for thinking he was safe. Sitting up in the bed, leaning against the headboard, the first tennis shoe hit him in the chest but the second knocked him right upside the head.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck, Samantha?”

  That was the wrong thing to say apparently.

  “Don’t Samantha me, Clay.” She jabbed her finger into his chest when he stood, letting the clothes she had thrown at him fall where they may.

  The venom in her eyes stung. “I tell you that I love you and you kick me out?”

  “Exactly.” Her body vibrated with adrenaline and it only pissed her off more that she knew she was about to lose it. And, that’s the last thing she wanted to do in front of him. “Just go.” Like a coward, Roxy fled to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. With her back against the door, her legs gave out when she heard him on the other side saying her name over and over, begging her to open the door, let him in. Sliding down the back of the door, she covered her mouth with her hand to quiet the sob trying desperately to escape.

  “I’m not leaving, Samantha. You want to do this through the fucking door? Fine.” Clayton must have been sitting on the floor on the other side because his voice sounded like they were back in bed, as if he was holding her still in the strength of his embrace. “I know we were just supposed to be having fun, fuck buddies, whatever. I don’t know why I thought I could ever agree to that.” She heard him chuckle, although it sounded more sad than happy. “Truth is I’m pretty sure I started falling for you that first day. Remember that day? God, you asked if my back hurt during sex and I didn’t know what the hell to say.” Roxy grinned through the waterworks that flowed freely. “Thing was? I hadn’t had sex since before my surgery—didn’t even miss sex. I wasn’t interested until you came along.”

  He’d never confessed that to her before. Although, none of this mattered anymore, this was only making it worse—making leaving that much harder.

  A feather light knock echoed through her head, followed by the words that tightened her chest. “I love you, Samantha. Love you. I’ve never said those words to any other woman before and I don’t plan on saying them to another woman again.”

  Clayton couldn’t believe he just poured out his heart to a woman who had demanded he leave then barricaded herself in the bathroom. There was no backing out. She was worth so much more.

  “Please, come out.” When he heard the doorknob turning, Clayton was more surprised than anything. He eyed her through the crack in the door. Extending his hand to her, Clayton didn’t even attempt to hide his emotions. Today was a day of firsts. “Let me love you, Samantha. The ball’s in your court.”

  She laughed quietly. “Ball’s in my court? You hate basketball.”

  “I do hate basketball—stupid ass sport,” he muttered.

  “I agree.”

  They both laughed even if it sounded somewhat pained.

  Taking his hand, she came to kneel in front of him. “You really love me?” she asked.

  Clayton nodded. “More than anything.” Moisture filled his eyes even as they remained locked on hers. “I really can’t remember a time I ever wanted a kiss so much in my entire life.”

  When her tongue dampened her lips, his groin tightened to the point of pain. “Same here.”

  Their shared kiss was gentle, reassuring, and life affirming all in one swoop. Not even knowing how it happened, suddenly Roxy was straddling his lap as they dueled to lead the kiss. Neither won—rather neither lost as they both attacked each other with a passion that seemed to always be simmering just below the surface between them. Her fingers tangled in his chocolate strands and his hands gripped her hips with enough force to remind her he would lead them.

  She tasted of fruit and liquor and it made him smile. Some women would lose themselves in a pint of chocolate fudge swirl but not his. No, she’d mix a cocktail that would be strong enough to knock a linebacker on his ass and crank some metal loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Either that or she’d ride the hell outta that cycle she was so fond of. For a moment, the thought crossed his mind that he could never compete with that bike, but he’d sure as shit try.

  Clayton slowed their mouths, and Roxy whimpered when he pulled away. His eyes were filled with desire, longing, and now she knew th
e other was love. She wondered if he could see the same mirrored back at him?

  Without asking, Clayton lifted her shirt up and over her head, tossing it somewhere into the darkness without a single care as to where it landed. He already knew that she had given all she had to him. Handed herself over to him with all the trust she had.

  Any doubt that may have crept in the night at the bar was quickly dispersed and after tonight, she’d never doubt him again.

  His cock was thick and stiff between her thighs. His boxer briefs hid nothing but the view. Pulling her close, Clayton soaked in the feeling of her smooth soft skin against his. Skin to skin, chest to breast—nothing felt better.

  Taking her by the waist, he pulled her against his shaft, a shaft that was still restrained behind the thin layer of cotton, enjoying the heat he felt coming from her core. She was hot and wanted this as much as he did. Desire dampened her sex, warmed her chest, and fluttered inside of her belly. With each undulation of her hips, her nipples rubbed against the coarse hair of Clayton’s chest only egging her movements onward.

  Nipping along her collarbone because he knew how much she got off being bitten, he continued his assault on her sensitive flesh. Slowly, painfully slowly, he made his way to her breast with a trail of moist kisses. Suckling her left breast, then, switching to her right.

  She pulled his eyes up to meet hers by the hair on his head, “I want you so much,” she panted.

  It only took seconds for her to push up onto her knees and free him from his confines. Holding his cock in her hand, she looked at him with the question in her eyes. Not needing to think about it Clayton nodded, then, watched as her body stretched to take him inch by inch. His thighs shook, his heart pounded so loud he was shocked she couldn’t hear it, and it took all he had not to blow.