Playing For Keeps

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by Samantha Lind




  Playing For Keeps

  Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 3

  Samantha Lind

  Playing for Keeps

  Copyright © 2018 by Samantha Lind

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN -13: 978-1980595182

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this novel. These names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intentional infringement of the trademark owner’s trademark(s).

  The following story contains adult language and sexual situations and is intended for adult readers.

  Cover Design by Jersey Girl Design

  Cover Photograph by Kruse Images & Photographs

  Cover Models Gina & Blake Sevani

  Editing by Jenn Wood with All About The Edits

  Proofreading by Proof Before You Publish

  Created with Vellum

  Sierra,

  Thank you for always believing in me. Your support, encouragement and friendship means the world to me! Love ya, girl!

  Contents

  1. Madison

  2. Richard

  3. Madison

  4. Richard

  5. Madison

  6. Richard

  7. Madison

  8. Richard

  9. Madison

  10. Madison

  11. Richard

  12. Madison

  13. Richard

  14. Madison

  15. Richard

  16. Madison

  17. Richard

  18. Madison

  19. Richard

  20. Madison

  21. Richard

  22. Madison

  23. Richard

  24. Madison

  25. Madison

  26. Richard

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Samantha Lind

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Madison

  “Life really needs to help a bitch out,” I murmur to myself, after ending yet another call from hell today. Sometimes, being a sports agent can be glorious one moment and shitty the next, and today is turning out to be the latter. Derek Smyth, starting pitcher for the Indianapolis Lightning Major League Baseball team, is not only one of my biggest clients but now he’s also at the top of my shit list. Apparently, the dumbass had a little too much fun last night at a friend’s bachelor party, got pulled over, and arrested for a DWI. I’ve been fielding calls all day from his attorney, publicist’s office, and now the PR offices for some of his endorsements. All thanks to his shenanigans last night.

  “Derek, I need you to call me ASAP. Grow some balls and quit avoiding me. We need to talk today, before your endorsements start dropping you. I’ve already heard from Adidas and Gatorade, and they want a reply before end of business today on some things, or they are threatening to pull your contracts. Call me at the office or on my cell. Hell, stop by the office if you need to. But do yourself a favor and call me. Don’t make me call your wife to find you.” I hang up and turn back to my computer, and my never-ending inbox.

  I’ve been a sports agent for the past couple years, and except for days like today, I love my job. I bonded over sports with my dad growing up, and it was something we both used to cope while my mom was fighting breast cancer and the years following her death. I started at this agency while I was still in college, as an assistant to a few of the agents, and slowly worked my way up to having my own clients. It’s everything I hoped for in a career, and even with crappy days like today, it’s all worth it when I sign a new client or help secure a new contract for one of my clients.

  I get lost in replying to e-mails as I wait for Derek to get back to me but am pulled away when I hear my phone chirping with an incoming text. I immediately grab it, hoping it’s my elusive client finally getting back to me. Looks like Derek is still avoiding me, but seeing the text on my phone brings a smile to my face.

  Richard: Hey, you up for some dinner at my place tonight?

  * * *

  Madison: Yes, but only if you have wine for me. It’s been a day.

  * * *

  Richard: Consider it done. See you around 6?

  * * *

  Madison: Yes, if something changes I’ll let you know.

  * * *

  Richard: See ya then. I hope your day gets getter.

  * * *

  Madison: Thanks, I hope so too! I don’t think it can get any worse at least.

  I drop my phone onto my desk and lean back in my chair, blowing out a breath as I allow my mind to wander, thinking back to moments with Richard.

  Richard and I’d been friends for close to a year before anything more than friendly transpired between the two of us. I remember the day that things changed, though, like it was yesterday.

  We’d been hanging out all day, as he’d just returned from Canada, where he spent most of his summer break. We met for brunch, and then spent a while at the dog park with Max. That evening, we grilled at his house and just sat around, catching up with each other on what had gone on over the last couple of months.

  One drink led to another, and before we knew it, we were cuddled up together on one of the lounge chairs surrounding the firepit. That led to kissing, and then Richard was leading me to his bedroom, where clothes were being removed.

  The moment I saw his body naked for the first time will forever be burned into my mind. The man is perfection. All the time spent in the gym and on the ice has treated him well. He’s got defined sinewy muscles everywhere, not in a body builder look, but more of an “I work out and take care of myself, and am a professional athlete” kind of way. His chiseled abs lead down to the coveted V, and the man has the magnificent ass and thighs only a hockey player can have, thanks to all the time spent on skates over the years. He’s got defined arms, and sexy as fuck forearms—who knew forearms could be so hot? I also never thought I’d be attracted to a bald man, but it works for him.

  But, that night. My skin grows warm as I think about it. His hands touching me, his mouth on mine.

  He towers over me by a good eight inches but is gentle as he reaches out to cup my face, pulling our naked bodies flush together. His erection is trapped between us, and I can feel the velvety skin of his cock against my belly as he brings his lips back to mine. He kisses me gently, testing the waters between the two of us. I react to each push and pull he gives, deepening the kiss as we go.

  Richard starts to back me up, his movements leisurely and unhurried, until my legs hit the edge of his bed. He slowly lowers us down until I’m lying down. He breaks the kiss and scoops me up, moving me more toward the center of the bed.

  Once I’m settled, he stares down at me, his eyes hooded.

  Full of desire.

  Lust.

  Longing.

  Excitement.

  He drops down onto his forearms that bracket either side of my head, bringing his lips back to mine as he places the softest of kisses to my lips before moving to the column of my neck. Kissing and nipping his way down my body, stopping to pay attention to my breasts, especially my hardened nipples.

  Each lick of his
tongue or suck from his mouth sends a bolt of lust straight to my core. I can feel the wetness coating me and he hasn’t even touched me below my belly yet.

  I squirm underneath him, urging him to move this sweet torture along. To help encourage him, I reach down and grasp his cock in my hand, squeezing it at the base and stroking up to the head. I swirl my thumb around the crown, spreading the drops of pre-cum over the entire swollen tip.

  “Fuck,” Richard groans against my breast.

  “If you’d move things along, it can feel even better,” I boldly tell him.

  He places a few more kisses and some love bites to my breast as he drops a hand to my pussy, cupping it as he slides his fingers through my wet folds.

  He sinks two fingers inside me and I instantly pulse around him. The fullness of his fingers feels amazing, but I’m greedy to feel the fullness that his cock will provide.

  I look into his eyes, mine dancing with my own lust. “I need you to fuck me, Richard.”

  At my command, he instantly removes his fingers and leans over to the nightstand, pulling out a condom. After rolling it down his hard shaft, he shifts forward, rubbing the tip through my folds and against my clit. I nearly come undone at the pressure and contact, until he shifts, lining himself up at my center. In one thrust, he’s fully seated, balls deep.

  “Oh my God!” I cry out at the intrusion of his cock. “You’re really big.”

  He stills, looking down at me. “I’m not hurting you, am I? I can pull out if you need me to.”

  “No, just let me adjust for a second. It’s been a little while for me,” I tell him, my cheeks pinking at the admission.

  He stays still for a few moments, trailing his fingertips along my heated skin, until both of us feel my muscles relax around him slightly. At that, he starts to slowly roll his hips, pulling out until just the tip is left inside me, then thrusting all the way in again.

  And again.

  And again.

  His rhythm gets faster as he begins to drive into me. The room is filled with the sounds of our grunts, moans, and skin slapping against skin.

  Before I know it, my body is desperate for release, and with a hard and fast thrust, I crest over the edge as my orgasm takes over my body.

  “D-Don’t stop,” I pant, enjoying every last moment. It’s been a long time since I’ve had an orgasm, thanks to a man. The intensity of it has me seeing stars behind my eyes. My body goes from rigid to completely relaxed as I bask in the endorphins running through my body.

  Richard continues to thrust through my orgasm, my pussy squeezing his cock hard. Just as my body starts to relax slightly, he slams into me one last time, and I can feel his cock swell slightly larger before filling the condom with his own release.

  He collapses, bringing his forehead to my shoulder, where he drops a few kisses as he sucks in a few deep breaths. We both lay there for a few moments, basking in the aftermath of mutual orgasms.

  Richard rolls off me but keeps me next to him as he remains motionless on the bed, as our breathing returns to normal.

  I lay there, my mind starting to race. What have we just done and what does it mean? Where does this go?

  I startle out of my daydream. I haven’t thought about that day in a long time. Kind of crazy to think we first slept together and started this “arrangement” about seven years ago. I have a hard time not letting the stress of my job get to me when the shit hits the fan. So, an evening with Rick is hopefully going to be just what I need. Some good food and wine and maybe, if I’m lucky, a few orgasms before I head home to my lonely bed.

  Rick and I met shortly after he moved to Indianapolis for his spot on the roster with the Indianapolis Eagles, our local NHL team. He was in need of someone to take care of his dog while he was on the road. His agent at the time was one I was working for, and he asked me to help find someone to take care of Richard’s dog while he was out of town. I offered to help him out while we found someone, and we’ve been friends ever since. I still watch Max for him when he’s gone.

  Over time, that friendship has turned into one with some friendly, between the sheets benefits that are ah-mazing. But, like everyone warned me, I’ve ended up with feelings for the man who has strictly placed me in the “friends with benefits” column and doesn’t want anything more. I know I need to just come out one of these days and tell him that I want more, or I need to end the “benefits” part of our relationship and start looking for someone to settle down with. At 28, I’m ready to start a family, so time is of the essence.

  I’m pulled from my relaxing breather moment by my cell ringing. Popping my eyes open and reaching for my phone, I see my problem child of the day is finally calling me back.

  “Derek. I see you’ve finally come out of hiding today.”

  “Mads, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call you. I’ve been laying low since I got home from the station. James just left my house, but I think he’s got everything, legal-wise, taken care of for now.” James is Derek’s attorney, so that’s good news, at least.

  “I touched base with James this morning, so I’m sure I’ll hear from him shortly, now that he’s been in touch with you. Jenny and I have also been in contact a few times today. Did you see the press statement she drafted and released? We couldn’t reach you, so I approved it before she released it.”

  “Yes, I saw it. Thanks for taking care of that for me. Now, what did Adidas and Gatorade want?”

  I shift in my chair so I’m back in front of my computer. “Both companies have issued a warning that they can, and will, pull your endorsement if you fuck up again. Your contracts with both companies have clauses that state they can do just that if they feel your personal actions don’t reflect the values they stand for. And I know you already know this, but a DWI isn’t something these companies stand for. You’re lucky they aren’t dropping your ass today. But they want a signed statement from you stating that you will shape up or be fined, and the remainder of your contract will be voided.”

  “Fuck,” Derek murmurs. “Okay, I’ll sign whatever is needed. Can you email me the documents, or do I need to come into the office?”

  “I’ll email them to you now. Your digital signature will work for these documents. Now that we have that out of the way, what are your plans for the next few days?”

  “Lay as low as possible. I plan on staying home until I have to report to spring training next week. Figure that will give us time for this to blow over and something else more important to be the top headline in the sports world. With me being home until then, Jill will stay on my ass about last night and keep me in line until I leave.”

  “Good for her.” I laugh into the phone. “What in the hell were you even thinking?”

  “I wasn’t,” he grumbles. “Mads, please don’t harp on me. I’ve been read the riot act multiple times, and I know I fucked up. But I can’t change it, and I’m sure the league and coaches are going to be my next nightmare to deal with. Have you heard anything from the league?”

  “I haven’t, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t call me. I’ll let you know if I hear from them.”

  “Thanks, Mads, you’re the best.”

  “Keep your butt out of trouble, Derek. I don’t want to have to charge you my pissed off agent fee,” I say on a chuckle. “And don’t ignore me. I’ll be in touch soon, so keep your phone on you and answer my damn calls.”

  “You’re almost as bad as my wife.” He groans. “I thought you were on my side.”

  “Well, listen to the women in your life. We might just keep you out of trouble yet. And while I’m on your side, you pay me to keep your butt in line.”

  “Okay, I’ve got the message, loud and clear. I’ll talk to you soon, Mads.”

  With my conversation with Derek finally behind me, I wrap up a few more emails before I grab my purse and leave the office. I’ve been dealing with his issues since about five, when I was called this morning, so leaving the office a little early is just what I need before m
y evening plans with Rick.

  Chapter Two

  Richard

  “Give me one more set,” Josh Burre, one of trainers, calls out as he spots me on the bench press. I push through this last set before placing the bar in the holder and dropping my arms, sucking in a lung full of air.

  “Nice job today, Murph,” Josh tells me, handing me a towel to mop the sweat off my bald head. “How are you feeling, need anything stretched out?”

  “I think I’m good today. I might sit in ice for a bit before I hit the shower.”

  “All right, let me know if you change your mind,” he says as he walks out of the weight room.

  I take my time getting up and making it into the locker room, my joints popping as I stand and stretch. At 33, I’m feeling the effects of having played in the league for over a decade. I strip at my locker and find an empty ice bath to soak in for a few minutes. Then I leisurely make my way into the showers, letting the water work out the kinks in my muscles.

  Once I’m back at my locker getting dressed, I see more of the guys have made their way into the locker room and are doing the same.

  “Hey, Murph. What do you have going on tonight?” Scott, one of my best friends, asks as he grabs his shower stuff from his locker.

 

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