PASS INTERFERENCE (Gods of the Gridiron Book 3)

by Shanna Swenson

  When Rebecca excused herself from the six people who’d gathered around her to assumedly ask questions or speak on history, the man accosted her.

  Pax couldn’t hear what the asshole was saying, but when he grabbed for her wrist, Pax stepped forward, only to be blocked by a little boy who beamed up at him.

  Uh oh, he’d been recognized.

  “Hey, buddy,” Pax began, looking from Rebecca to the boy in front of him.

  “I know who you are.”

  “Well, let’s not advertise it, ok?” Pax winked then looked apprehensively back up to see Becca and the man arguing. He had to get rid of this kid. “Want an autograph?”

  The boy, clad in a crimson Gladiators hoodie, nodded vigorously.

  “Alright, I tell you what. Go grab a pen for me at the front and don’t say anything, and I’ll sign whatever you want. Deal?”

  “Deal.” He jumped for joy before turning to do as Pax asked.

  Pax didn’t fail to notice that Becca was rubbing her wrist where the prick had grabbed her. Where had that SOB run off to?

  They would be discussing that very shortly as Pax pulled every bit of willpower he possessed, attempting to contain Poseidon’s wrath as the boy came running back to him.

  “So, are we gonna talk about what Jeremiah did?” Pax finally asked at dinner when they were halfway through.

  The tight lips and narrowed brows immediately alerted Rebecca not to divulge too much.

  They were seated in the back of a small and quaint little French bistro downtown. It had always looked inviting, and Becca had suggested it after Pax asked her where she wanted to dine. They’d walked in and had been immediately sat. Becca’d then witnessed the perks of fame, as well as the downside, as people had gasped and pointed when they’d walked by. Pax had nodded, giving them his beautiful smile as his palm settled on her lower back.

  He was so devilishly handsome, no one could deny that fact. Handsome. Beautiful. And built like a tank. And she wanted him with a passion that blinded her to anything else. Here she was so close to giving her virginity away before marriage, but to a man she’d secretly worshipped unbeknownst to him for a long time now. The other night in the jacuzzi had been so passionate, so raw, and she’d been so close to having him inside her. It was all she’d thought about for the last two days.

  But they hadn’t been intimate again, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to or if he was thrown off by the fact that she was a virgin.

  “Rebecca?”

  She looked up into those stormy blue eyes of his—stormy with a rage she’d only seen on the gridiron—and she gulped. Pax was usually always smiling, but she was seeing another side of him right now; it began to frighten her.

  “You want to tell me why that bastard grabbed your arm?”

  She looked down, shame seizing her.

  “You made him seem like some distant admirer, but that wasn’t how it looked when he assaulted you.”

  She looked back up then down again, not sure what to say on the matter.

  Paxton huffed out and took her chin in his massive palm. “Tell me. Why did he think it was okay to touch you?”

  “He’s, well, he’s sorta my ex-boyfriend,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What?” his sharp tone echoed loudly off the cavern-like ceiling of subway tiles surrounding them. She’d never seen him so riled up, the sweet gentle giant now a raging Hulk.

  Rebecca gulped as fear seized every cell of her body; she was unable to move, unable to speak.

  “You’re fucking joking, right?” Pax’s voice wasn’t as loud as before but was equally as belligerent, and Becca looked around for a quick escape. “Wait.” Dark eyes held hers as his hand turned her face back to his. “He’s done that before, hasn’t he?”

  She didn’t want to talk about it. It was the past and things were fine now and…

  “Becca, talk to me. Right the hell now.” His commanding tone had the intended effect, and Becca couldn’t hold in her tears—the fear, the regret.

  She felt Pax’s arm move around her shoulder in the booth they sat in, and he pulled her into his chest, cradling her head as he let her compose herself. She did so quickly, all too aware of the eyes on them.

  “I’m sorry, sweetness. I just— I don’t handle men abusing women well, as you can see. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Hulk smash comes to mind, is all.”

  She couldn’t help but snicker as she looked up into his sincere eyes. She took her finger and traced the lines of his face, smoothing his frown, and running her fingertip along his square jaw—so handsome, so sexy. “I understand. Veda would kill him if she knew he was still coming around the museum.”

  “Not if I get to him first,” Pax added with all seriousness.

  “It wasn’t…” she trailed off, unsure how to start. “He was a regular ‘fan’ of my tours and one day asked me out for coffee. He seemed genuine enough and was always dressed in suits when he came in. We went out for coffee and things went well, so I agreed to have dinner with him. Again, he seemed kind and charming so we started dating. A month or so went by and he got confrontational with one of my patrons during a tour one afternoon and was kicked out of the museum. His whole demeanor had changed; he’d gone from benevolent to possessive almost overnight and demanded I quit working there. I refused and broke things off with him. He harassed me for a while. I had to change my phone number, and we even added more locks to the apartment. I assume Veda must have threatened him or something because months went by without a word. Then one day he showed up out of the blue and apologized, but things have been quiet...”

  “Until today,” Pax finished, and Becca nodded. “Look, I don’t get a good feeling from this guy. I mean it when I say not to be alone with him. He’s threatened by me and for damn good reason.”

  “Ok, Poseidon,” Becca smarted.

  “Poseidon nothing! I’ll shove my fist down his throat if he ever touches you again.”

  “You sound a little possessive, Hulk.” She tapped his nose with her finger.

  “I don’t share what’s mine, I already told you that.”

  Becca practically swooned; it was the second time he’d said she was “his.” That fact thrilled her and made a shiver run down her spine. How delicious it would be to let him officially make her his. “Down boy.”

  He gave her a crooked grin and leaned in, his face inches from hers. “This boy doesn’t want to get down. Well, actually he does; down and dirty with his sexy little virgin.”

  “You’re too much, Pax. Pervert,” she baited.

  “Right? Ever since you told me, it’s all I’ve thought about. Deflowering you. Exploring every inch of you, making you beg for me to shove my—”

  “How was everything this evening, Mr. Guthrie?”

  They both jerked apart with a start. Pax cleared his throat, answering the server with, “Delicious,” as his eyes roved back over Becca. “We’ll take the check, please?”

  “Madam, were the haricot vert cooked to your specifications?” the waiter asked, oblivious to the sexual waves rocking between Becca and Paxton.

  “They were perfectly al’ dente, Dante. Thank you so much,” Rebecca cooed.

  The server nodded and took their plates away, and Rebecca exhaled sharply.

  “Fancy, Ryan. You’re a woman of class, you know? A rare emerald in a sea of pearls.”

  “Emerald, huh?”

  “Like the color of your eyes… stunning.”

  His nose against her jawline sent yet another shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t wait to have his lips on hers once again.

  When they got back to the limo, he was pulling her across his lap, the hard ridge of his cock digging into her pubic bone through her skirt.

  “Mmm, Pax,” she whimpered as his mouth fell to her collarbone.

  “I’m gonna make you come again for me, my sexy little virgin bride.”

  She gasped as his hands moved into her cardigan and his mouth took hers. She thrus
t her tongue in, gripping his shoulders as she unleashed her passions upon him.

  When Paxton pulled her tank top up to expose her lacy black bra, he was the one moaning.

  “Damn, I thought virgins weren’t supposed to wear naughty lingerie like this.”

  She giggled as he kissed the round mounds with calculated precision, his tongue darting out to tease. “Stereotyping is rude, Poseidon.”

  Rebecca ground their hips together as he continued to torment her flesh. She sucked in a gulp of air when he unclasped the front clasp of her bra and held her breath as his eyes took in her nakedness.

  “Baby, you’re so beautiful.” His voice was reverent as he cupped her breasts in his massive hands, testing them and running his fingertips over her rigid nipples.

  “Oh Pax,” she cried as his head fell and his lips enveloped a nipple, taking half her breast into his mouth. His hands fell to her hips and rocked her against his steely erection.

  “Fuck, baby, you feel so damn good.”

  She’d have to agree as her hands moved to unbutton his shirt, and he gripped her bottom, thrusting himself into her. She could feel the head of him slide through her covered folds and moaned loudly as her hands sought his naked chest.

  His muscles were so smooth, so cut, so manly, and she felt her orgasm building as his hungry mouth moved to the other nipple, tormenting her with an eager tongue.

  “Mmm, Pax, yes, oh baby.”

  “Come for me, sweet girl.”

  And as his teeth nipped at her flushed skin, she did, gasping and crying and dry-humping her fake fiancé’s crotch like he was the answer to all her prayers—for he was, in all his glorious sexual allure. His half-cloaked chest rippled as he arched against her, his brows furrowed, his mouth opened as he groaned out and found his own release. His eyelids fluttered and his hand sought her breast, squeezing as he gasped her name. She could feel the wetness pool between her legs and attempted to catch her breath as she watched him looking her over.

  “Damn baby. I can’t wait to see what it feels like being inside you. This was one hell of a preview though, I have to say.”

  She smiled. She tended to agree. Although there was some part of her that was sad to see her virginity go, she was glad she was going to be giving it to him—to Paxton Guthrie, her a rúnsearc—her secret love and keeper of her heart.

  He cupped her face as he recognized her doubt. “You ok, naia?”

  She nodded, afraid to speak.

  “I’m in no hurry. I want you to know that.”

  Ah, only because he was so intrigued by the fact that he would soon be sleeping with a virgin—just another tick-mark on his belt, she was sure. For her, it would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but for him, she would just be another woman in the long line of them.

  Suddenly, that bothered her. A lot. She gulped.

  She would just have to make him wait. So that she made sure she was special to him. She wanted him to remember her, miss her, and want her long after this fake engagement was over.

  She would do everything in her power to simply drag this out as long as humanly possible.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Hi, you must be Becca,” said a lovely, tall, slender brunette with blonde highlights. She favored Madi. She must be her sister.

  “I am. You’re Brooke, right?”

  “That’s me.” She gave Becca a crooked grin.

  “Pax said you’re a model.”

  “Brooke’s many things; model is one of them,” snorted another stunning blonde with an Australian accent. “I’m Valeria, but you can call me Val. Good to finally meet you.” Val stuck her hand out for Becca to shake, and she did, with a smile.

  “Linc’s wife, right?”

  Val nodded. “You’ve met Linc?”

  “Oh, no! Not yet. I—”

  “She’s a fan of the team,” came the cautious voice of Madison McFadden. “Of course she knows the players…and wives.”

  Becca gulped at the blue-green eyes that held hers. How in Hell was she ever going to prove herself to this woman?

  “Hell, can you blame her?” Skyla piped in and grabbed Becca’s arm. “Paxton Guthrie. What’s not to swoon about ‘Thor of the gridiron’?”

  Pax really did favor Thor with his long, blond curls covered by the helmet when he played. Of course, it was a sweaty mess before the game was over—and it haphazardly gave something for the opponent to grab onto—but it was his signature feature.

  “I was a big fan too, you know?” Sky continued as they took seats overlooking the field.

  The luxury box was swankier than Rebecca could’ve anticipated with comfy leather seats, large TV sets so that one had a view of the game from any place in the room, an antique bar, and a buffet of various foods. The old wooden bar sat in the corner of the box, not obstructing the view, and appeared to house a full stock.

  “You were?”

  “Oh yes. Travis and I were classmates in high school, and I followed his football career over the years.” A blue eye of the gorgeous redhead winked.

  Becca hadn’t known that. So, she wasn’t the only “outlander” then.

  “So, the date was all a bunch of BS, huh, Bec?” Brooke asked bluntly.

  Rebecca didn’t fail to notice Madi had turned to watch her, eyes slanted. Becca gulped.

  “Well, uh…”

  “Linc said that Pax said—”

  “Can it, Aussie Barbie, and let the woman speak.” Brooke elbowed Val.

  Becca felt the heat in the room rise as all the women—Val, Brooke, Madi and Skyla— turned their attention to her. Oh God, she couldn’t lie to them, but she had no choice but to do so. After all, Pax had told her they had to make this seem as legit as possible. They’d even created a story to cover their tracks, and she wore the ring on her finger to help with the validity.

  “It was his romantic attempt to propose.”

  “Where’d y’all meet?” Val asked.

  “My museum. He was in a tour group.”

  “Paxton likes history?” Madi asked and planted her hand on her hips.

  “Oh he loves history,” Becca stated matter-of-factly. They’d discussed it many times before. And she knew which history he loved best. “He’s a fan of the ancient civilizations—Egypt, Rome, Greece.”

  “That’s because he loves to play the game God of War.” Skyla smiled, knowingly. “Yeah, he plays with Travis over the headset sometimes. I’m sure you’ve heard him yelling at Maverick?”

  Becca laughed. “Ah, yes. He does do that.”

  “How fun! So, you’re the curator?”

  “I’m one of the historians, but eventually I would love to be a museum curator.” Becca smiled back at Val who asked the question.

  “History; so much we can learn from it but seldom do,” Brooke remarked and threw a glass of amber liquid back. “Want a whiskey, Becca?” she asked as she rose to her feet.

  “Umm, yes, please? Jameson.”

  “Aye, Irish whiskey, eh?” Brooke winked. “I thought I detected a hint of an accent.”

  “Irish, huh?” Skyla smirked. “I got some Scottish in me from my mom’s side.”

  “Brett’s Scottish, too. I mean, obviously… McFadden.” Madi smiled genuinely for the first time since Becca had met her. “Where in Ireland?”

  “Doolin.”

  “Ah, Hunter and I visited the Cliffs of Moher. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. We were married in Galway.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that. We moved here when my sister and I were eight. My Gran and Gramp are still there. Maybe one day I can go back and visit them.”

  “It’s beautiful there. Brett and I are planning to visit Scotland next year. I can’t wait.”

  Becca smiled at her, suddenly getting the feeling that Madi might not be out to get her after all. There was a kind person hidden behind that ironclad mask of hers. Perhaps Madi was just being cautious about Becca and Pax’s situation. After all, she was the CEO of the Gladiators, and it was her job
to protect her team, like it was her husband’s job to lead them.

  “One Irish whiskey for the wee lass,” Brooke said in her best attempt at an Irish accent as she handed Becca the whiskey glass.

  Becca laughed and shook her head. She rose her glass and said, “Slàinte mhaith.”

  “Slaw-cha what?” Val asked

  “Oh snap! She knows Gaelic?” Brooke’s brows went up, impressed.

  Becca smiled. “It’s Irish actually; the Scots speak Gaelic.” Becca pronounced the word like “gal-lick,” getting a confused look out of all them which made her laugh. “Our languages are totally different despite that they have similar roots.”

  “Wow, who knew?” Val stated with a giggle.

  “Who are you kidding? No one understands your Aussie ass either,” Brooke mimicked.

  “Oh, bugger off, you bogan,” Val smarted back in her best Aussie accent.

  They all laughed, even Madison.

  “You two, zip it. Here come our men,” Skyla looked out the box to see the Gladiators taking the field. Glorious in their crimson, gold, and white jerseys. They were larger than life, figures of true legend—Gods of the Gridiron.

  “So, Pax said you live with your mom and sister… Is your father dead?” Brooke questioned, brazenly.

  Becca looked over to Madi, those eyes watching her again. Why was she so suspicious?

  “Aye, he passed three years ago. A sudden death. Heart attack.” Becca failed to add that he’d simply up and left them all one day, when Veda and Becca were just teens. She’d heard about his death from their grandparents back in Ireland. The blow still felt just as sharp; she’d been a Daddy’s girl.

  “I’m so sorry,” Val patted Becca’s shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, look at my sexy Ares. He’s so handsome,” Sky interrupted, seemingly to bring the topic back to something more comfortable.

  The camera zoomed onto Travis talking with a sportscaster about the game. His pearly white smile was devilish as he spoke into the mic with an air that rivaled that of his Greek god counterpart.