Gunslinger: A Sports Romance

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  “Tall, thin, the usual.” Roman says.

  “Hot?”

  It’s a knee jerk reaction, but I look up to Roman to see how he’ll answer the question. He looks me straight in the eyes with little expression across his face when he replies to Cutter.

  “Absofuckinglutely.”

  If he said it to piss me off, it worked. I look at Jade to see if he’s hurt her feelings at all, but I can’t really read her. I think I’m the only one who’s more irked by the comment, and I hate that I even care. So what he made me come like an hour ago. That doesn’t mean anything. In fact I’ve got to get a grip. I can’t just make out with my cousin and think that it means something. That it’s ok. It’s not. That’s why I’m counting on one particular reinforcement Sloan brought to help me shake this whole Roman Masterson spell I’m falling under.

  Jagger Reed is another graduate from the university swim team and was probably Ethan’s main competition for a spot on the Olympic team. He’s built like the quintessential All-American boy. A tall and broad swimmer’s body, eyes that shine, and a crooked smile. If I could do things all over again, Jagger would’ve been the guy I went out with in school. Not Ethan. He is the only one of Ethan’s friends who called to check on me after the attack. Everyone else has been avoiding me like the plague, as if I am the reason that Ethan has been kicked out of swim club and in rehab. I’m sure Sloan asked him along because she knows I’ve always had a little crush on him. Long before Ethan.

  “You said friends as in plural,” Camden says. “Who else is coming?”

  “Some friends I went to school with. A girl from our old dorm; her name is Tiny. And a guy we know named Jagger.”

  Roman frowns.

  “Hi y’all.” Sloan waves as the three of them make their way up the staircase. She looks amazing as usual in a simple ribbed white tank top, skinny jeans, thin gold hoops and heels. I give her and Tiny a quick hug and offer a smile to Jagger.

  “Damn! Your legs go on for days.” Cutter exclaims.

  Sloan grins.

  “And you are?” She asks amused.

  “Your future.”

  She giggles. I roll my eyes (to myself). I thought I was his future just a minute ago.

  “I’m Sloan, this is my old college roommate Tiny, and our friend Jagger.”

  Tiny and Jagger say what’s up to everyone and then they step back to let Sloan do her social butterfly thing. Sloan is a bit of an attention hog, and so we kind of just let her go and do her thing when we’re all out. It’s much easier that way.

  Jagger leans back on the banister with a grin and his eyes trained on me. If I didn’t know better, I would say that he is looking at me with interest, but that would probably just be wishful thinking on my part. He mouths the words for me to come over and talk to him. My first reaction is to smile and get up, but I feel kind of slutty about it when I do, because Roman is watching me like a hawk with a scowl on his face, and well you know, he did just have his face between my legs not that long ago.

  “Hey Elizabeth. How are you? Long time no see.”

  We’re both facing each other, casually leaning on the railing, and I can still feel Roman’s heated glare. It’s difficult to concentrate with him staring like that, but this is Jagger Reed we’re talking about. I need to get it together.

  “I recently moved out of my place. So I live with family over in the Historic District.”

  “Sweet.”

  “You getting ready for the Olympic trials?”

  “Yep, they’re next June.”

  “Oh … so you have plenty of time.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be training all winter at the club and then probably head over to Nebraska in the spring to continue training.”

  “Nebraska?”

  “That’s where the trials are this year.”

  I can tell that Jagger is a little surprised that I don’t know diddly squat about the Olympic trials, but when I was with Ethan that was kind of the point. He didn’t want to talk about swimming with me. He talked about it enough with his coach, his parents and his friends. He would often tell me that I was his very much needed distraction from all of that pressure. I’ve learned the hard way that his words weren’t even remotely truthful. Drugs proved to be the real escape he was searching for. I can’t believe how clueless I was. It still stings.

  “I’m sure you’ll do well and get a spot on the team Jagger.” Especially because Ethan is no longer competition for him, but I’d never say that. The two of them were always battling each other for the number one and number two spots in competitions.

  “Thanks. So how’s your–”

  “Excuse me.” Roman walks up directly between us and interrupts.

  “Yes.” I say with annoyance in my voice. He’s been a jerk since we left the house, and I’m certainly not trying to talk to him now.

  “I brought you your shot.”

  “Thanks but I thought I said I didn’t want one.”

  “It’s lemon flavored. You’ll like it.”

  He stands close to me holding the shot. “Take it.”

  Jagger starts shifting his weight between both of his feet uncomfortably. I can tell he is itching to say something in my defense. That’s just the kind of guy Jagger is, but knowing a little about him, I also figure that he is sizing Roman up first. Trying to decide the best way to handle him. Jagger is smart. I’ve seen him handle some of the drunkest guys on campus quite diplomatically.

  “Will you leave if I drink it?” I ask already knowing that the question is probably going to piss Roman off.

  “Why?” He looks like he wants to rip my head off right now.

  “Because the lady and I are going to dance,” Jagger interjects with a smile as he grabs my hand. “She’s a great dancer.”

  I’m surprised that Jagger makes a comment about my dancing abilities, because I had no idea that he’s ever paid attention to me when we were partying. Although it may not have been the biggest secret in my circle that I love to dance, I’m just shocked that he was watching.

  I throw the shot back, grit my teeth from the sour lemon taste, then grab Jagger’s arm and we head down the stairs to the dance floor. Sloan cackles something from her seat on top of Cutter’s armrest like, “have fun kiddos,” and when I turn around to smile at her, all I see is the deepening scowl on Roman’s face.

  He’s totally pissed and it brings me a small bit of satisfaction.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ROMAN

  I’M NOT SURE HOW LONG I’ve been standing by this railing watching Elizabeth and this pretty ass swim boy dance in the middle of my club. I don’t like him. I can tell life has been entirely too easy for him. He probably got all A’s in school, all the pussy he wants, and lives off daddy’s money. He doesn’t look like he’s ever had to fight for shit a day in his life. Guys like that feel a sense of entitlement about everything. I’m positive that he’s nothing but trouble.

  Of course one might interpret this another way, and I can’t believe I’m even thinking this shit, but is it possible that I’m jealous? I mean Elizabeth’s arms are draped casually across this guy’s shoulders, and his hands are holding her tiny waist as they dance way too slowly to a fast ass electro song. They’re both smiling and giggling with each other as if they are in the middle of some sort of teen Disney movie or they’re out on their first date. I’m really trying like hell to tame the beast within me, but this is another new emotion for me, and I’m not sure what I can do about it. The swimmer kid should just back the hell off. That would make things a lot simpler, because it would be very embarrassing for everyone if I broke every one of his dainty slender swimmer fingers, now wouldn’t it?

  My body is humming.

  The hairs across my forearms are vibrating.

  This thing brewing inside of my body has rendered me utterly stupid. While it’s a sensation that I’ve felt recently, it’s a whole hell of a lot stronger this time.

  Possession.

  I know it sounds ridi
culous, but Elizabeth is mine. I’m not exactly sure how I can feel so covetous of a woman that I have only tasted but not fully claimed. Not to mention that I don’t claim women. That’s not what I do.

  And that’s exactly how I know that I’m completely and royally fucked.

  I like Elizabeth. I mean I really like this girl. She’s made me laugh more than I have in the last year. She doesn’t have fake tits, a fake ass, or even false eyelashes. She’s a hundred percent natural, one hundred percent real, and she’s super smart. I’m not used to intelligence in the bedroom. I’m used to women who either pretend that they are way smarter than they actually are or are plain ole’ home grown dummies.

  I’m actually interested in not just Elizabeth’s body (which is perfection by the way), but in who she is and who she wants to be, which is some brand new shit for me. Unfortunately though, I am highly interested in a woman who Joseph has made crystal clear is off limits to me. He made sure of that tonight when he called me into the home office.

  Hence my shitty mood all night.

  “I have never interfered in your personal life Roman, but you’re my son, and I know you like the back of my hand. Something’s off and if I find out that you are screwing with Elizabeth’s head in any kind of way, be assured that I’ll cut yours off. She is Juliette’s niece. She’s a sweet kid. And while she’s under my roof, I want you to find out what’s going on with her, and then protect every single hair on her head. Including from you.”

  “I don’t know where this is coming from Joseph, but you’re way off base.”

  I lied through my teeth.

  “She had a falling out with her landlord. I took care of it, and I’ve been watching her like you asked.”

  With my tongue.

  “Ask Juliette.”

  She might have heard me make Elizabeth come like a champion.

  I decided not to tell Joseph about Elizabeth’s boyfriend and the attack. I think that I need to do some more digging, and the old man only needs to know details on a need to know basis. Especially now that he’s suspicious.

  “Good. Because I’ve made a big decision, and I don’t want to regret it.”

  “What decision?”

  “I want to retire from the business and start traveling more with Juliette. I’m going to hand over everything to you. That is if you’re ready.”

  I was fucking stunned.

  Never in a million years did I believe that Joseph would ever hand his business over to me. I’m not sure that I even wanted it, but I’ve come to terms that what I want is not the point. I’m already knee deep in this life, and I’ve done so much crap over the years to build it to this point, that I doubt I’d really know what else to do with myself. This is what I know. This is what I do well. I’m a thug. I’m a monster.

  “So how would this work?”

  “So you’re on board?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay then, we’ll start by me handing The Lotus and the other clubs over to you. I bought them because it will be much easier to control media access to our clients if they use our properties to party in, to get drunk in, to see their mistresses in. Each club will have a strict policy of no cell phone use. So no pictures and no social media posting or checkins will be permitted. We can block most cell service within the club walls. If they need to use a phone, they’ll use the house phone. Celebrities will love it. It’s old school. It’s exclusive. It’s private. You’ll eventually have to acquire a few spots in LA and Miami to cast a wide net, but at least we already have New York and Philadelphia on lock.”

  Using two fingers, my father slid a thick accordion-styled folder across his desk with several papers inside including a ten-page contractual agreement already signed by him and notarized. I picked it up and read it with glazed eyes. I wasn’t processing any of the words on the pages. As crazy as it sounds, all I could think about was how this deal between Joseph and I was effectively eliminating any possibility of me ever exploring this thing with Elizabeth (not that she was necessarily having any of it, but a guy can hope). This was my father’s way of saying that I was back in his good graces, that he trusted me, and that there was no room for error. The door to anything happening with her would be ceremonially closed shut if I added my John Hancock to the signature line of the last page.

  I signed it anyway.

  Yet as I watch her right now with another man’s hands on her body, I can’t help but feel like a man possessed. No matter how sick this shit is. No matter the risk of Joseph finding out. The truth is, is that I’m not even sure I have it in me to stop myself.

  She’s mine.

  “Whatcha doing?” Jade asks curiously while standing behind me. I didn’t even see her walk over. That’s how off my game I am.

  “Nothing.”

  “Staring down your cousin’s throat while she’s dancing with the cutie is definitely something. You either want to kill her or him,” she says apparently amused.

  I turn my head slowly to look down at the tiny terror.

  “Mind. Your. Fucking. Business.”

  I stick my hand in my front pocket and dig out a couple of M&Ms.

  “You’re a sick boy my friend. I hope you know what you’re doing. This is Juliette’s niece right?”

  After popping the candy in my mouth, I scrub my face several times with the palm of my hand. Gah! Jade knows me too well. There’s no point in trying to hide it.

  “I need you to do something.” I say to her.

  “What?”

  “First, shut up. Second, I need you to investigate Elizabeth’s ex-boyfriend for me. I’ll text you the deets later. Third, right now I need you to go over there and dance with the pretty boy.”

  “Uh … he seems to have a partner already asshat.”

  Typically I’d enjoy the back and forth snarky banter between Jade and I, but tonight it’s grating my nerves. Everything is grating my nerves.

  “Just do it Jade.”

  “Is that an order?” She asks incredulously. The lines between friendship and boss/employee have always been blurred but respected between us.

  “Obviously.”

  “Fine then!” She huffs and stomps away.

  I don’t like that I have to send Jade on this type of ridiculous mission, but Elizabeth won’t look at me. I need her to look up at me. Maybe if she did, she’d stop gyrating her ass around the dance floor and putting on a show for good ole’ boy. Maybe if she saw my deadly serious face, she’d stop, so that this very strong desire I have to hurt him will dissipate, because I’m itching to smack that grin off of his face.

  I watch as Jade orders a glass of wine and a beer from the bar and then two-steps her way over to Elizabeth and pretty boy with drinks in hand. She hands Elizabeth the glass and she smiles back in gratitude and then hands the dude the beer. She dances with them while talking their ears off about God knows what, and the next thing I know Jade ends up in between them dancing primarily with the swimmer. His eyes seem to be drawn to Jade’s boobs, which are sitting up high and proud in her tight t-shirt.

  Good. I’ve identified a weakness. He likes tits.

  Elizabeth whispers something in Jade’s ear and walks away. That’s when Jade looks up towards my direction and gives me the mission completed nod. Sloan and her friend Tiny seem to still be completely engrossed in one of Cutter’s many stories about the celebrities he’s met (he’s got a big ass mouth), so I go downstairs and cut Elizabeth off before she can make her way back up to our seating section. She’s walking with her head down and doesn’t see me at first, but stops when she recognizes my boots.

  “I want to talk to you.” I say.

  “Now?”

  “Right now. Walk with me to my office. It’s just at the back of the hallway there.”

  I see the hesitance in her face. She’s contemplating what she should do, as if this was a life or death decision. But I guess my approach may make it appear as if whatever I have to say is life or death. I’ve been told that even when I smile, thanks
to the scar on my face, I still look like I want to rip somebody’s head off.

  “It’ll take five minutes.” I assure her.

  She looks back over at the swimmer. His eyeballs still stuck to the front of Jade’s shirt.

  “Umm … ok.”

  Relief settles in my gut that she’s agreed. Another unexpected emotion.

  “So what’s up?”

  Elizabeth makes sure to stand at least five feet away from me, as she takes a nervous gulp of wine waiting for me to speak. I’ve never noticed before, but her eyelashes are long, black, jut straight down and do an amazing job of highlighting her almond shaped eyes. She’s blinking a little more than usual. I figure it’s because I make her a little nervous on top of the fact that the alcohol is starting to hit her bloodstream. She’s had a large lemon drop shot and now a glass of wine, which she’s drinking like it’s grape juice. I take a few steps closer to her as she backs up further into a metal desk. I need to be near her, and if I don’t keep a handle on it, I’ll be inside her next.

  “You look so serious Masterson.” She looks jittery. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been in a crap mood all night.”

  I take the glass out of her hand, lean closely behind her, and place it down on the desk. That’s when I catch a whiff of her hair, which smells like pure sunshine, and my dick gets brick hard. I wrap one of my hands loosely around the base of her warm throat feeling for her pulse. I can tell that she’s holding her breath. It’s intoxicating that I have this affect on her. She does the same to me. Heaven must be like this.

  “Stop dancing for him,” I say to her.

  “For who?” She asks on an exhale with a look of feigned confusion across her face.

  “You know who.”

  “Jagger?”

  I cringe at the fact that she’s even speaking his name out loud in my presence, and I’m amazed at how my body responds to hearing it. I want to kiss her so hard right now, that she’ll never think or speak that name again.

  “Yes.” I hiss. “Him.”

  “What are you doing Roman?” She asks hesitantly. I recognize the fear mixed with want in her eyes. I know it well.