Romance: SCREWED (An Arranged Marriage to the NFL Bad Boy) (A New Adult Contemporary Athlete Sports Football Romance)

by Bridget Lang

  His lips ran over her skin, sailing across her abdomen and over her hips, down to her thighs. He found that special spot between them that made her body thrash. His tongue flicked along the delicacy of her sex. She still tasted like mangoes to him, even after all these years. Mia placed her hands, so soft and warm, on his head, holding him to her. The sweetness of her body was like soft electricity charging his erection, and when her thighs clenched he knew he was fully charged. He took one last draw of her mango scent before moving back to her breasts, and then her neck.

  The rest of her smelled like cinnamon. He used to think it was something in her body wash, but now he knew her skin simply cultivated sweetness. He slid his tongue along her body, around her nipples, like sweet pink strawberries. They seemed to be standing there waiting for him to suckle, and he didn't want to disappoint them. Her body was the magic he'd been waiting for the last three years, the magic that he needed to make him feel whole again.

  When she lifted his shirt over his head he thought his heart might burst. Finally, it wasn't just him chasing her, it was her chasing him back. A fervor like he'd never known gripped them both. Mia's fingers tore at his belt buckle and undid them with hands so soft he thought they must be made of cotton. Mia's panties, a faded pink silk, were on the floor the second after his pants were off. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him to her. He felt her desire and craved her with the same passion.

  "Are you sure about this?" he asked. He told himself the question was for her sake, but really it was for his. She'd broken his heart once, was he ready to give it back? What would she do with it a second time?

  But her breath was so sweet and her golden hair shined in the moonlight like a treasure chest. When she said, "Yes, do it," and spread her legs for him, he couldn't have stopped his body if he'd wanted to. Thankfully, his mind decided to play along for now, and let him believe this was all real.

  He slipped into her with the ease of a practiced lover, though they'd only been together the one time. It was like their bodies had been created for each other. She moaned and arched her back. Logan tried to control himself. His heart throbbed in his chest and his ass clenched tight as he moved against her. She brought her hips up to meet his, reaching around him and grabbing his backside, guiding him into her. Her skin was so soft outside, and inside her body was the warm bath he'd been waiting for since leaving Oakville three years ago.

  The room was dark except for the moon and stars that refused to be kept out, invading their space through a cracked window in the corner of Mia's room. The light began to pulse around them as Logan pressed his manhood to her, Mia receiving him like a good massage. Her hair whipped wildly around her head, as if a strong wind was blowing her, an unseen force in the sensual darkness.

  Electric heat sprung from their bodies as they molded themselves together. Logan moved his body faster and felt Mia tighten. The light pulse surrounding them quickened, flashing with a growing urgency, getting brighter and brighter until Mia dug her nails into Logan's back and moaned under him, her back arching like an acrobat's. Her skin was warm and soft and when she smiled it was like she'd offered him a slice of apple pie. Logan saw a billion stars. He felt as if he'd suddenly been shot into space and was seeing what only the privileged few got to see in a life time. Their bodies rose together far into heaven and everything around them went white.

  Logan fell beside her on the mattress, smiling. She smiled back. His body was still hot next to hers, his breath like sun against her neck. "That was fun," she said. "Why didn't we do that last night?" Logan laughed and wrapped her in his arms, happy for once to be back home.

  Chapter 11

  Mia woke to the sun hitting her eyelids, which she was trying desperately to keep pasted shut. There were strange sounds coming from the living room. Laughter and voices; she could almost hear them smiling. She lifted her head off her pillow and put on a T-shirt and jeans. She had to work, but not for a few hours.

  Somehow, she'd thought she would find Tera sitting in the living room playing with Emma. It never factored into her mind that Logan might still be here. Her jaw hit the floor when she saw him high five Emma, who curled to the floor in a fit of laughter. Blonde ringlets circled her head like a halo. Did Logan curl her hair? Emma looked up just then and squealed.

  "Mommy!"

  Mia threw a look at Logan that said she was not happy about this, but then she wondered why she shouldn't be. Here was Logan, playing with his daughter. For the first time in her short life, Emma had a father. Only, neither of them knew it. Mia's head swam with mixed emotions. She felt light headed and made her way to the couch, sinking more than sitting into the tired old cushions.

  "Are you alright?" Logan asked, jumping up and kneeling beside her. Concern was etched on his face and Mia felt guilt overwhelm her as he pulled her hand into his.

  She nodded. "Fine, fine. Just... thirsty." It was all she could think to say. Logan immediately went into the kitchen. She heard him shuffling around and then he called, "Don't you have anything to drink. Orange juice or something?"

  Mia shook her head then remembered Logan was in the kitchen. "No," she called out. "I need to go shopping." The truth was, Mia was trying to hold out for a few more days until the next round of food stamps kicked in. "Water's fine," she said.

  "Just tap water," Mia said. Emma laid her head in Mia's lap and looked up at her with wide blue eyes that seemed to beg for something Mia wasn't sure she could give.

  "I like him," Emma whispered.

  Logan appeared with water, which he handed to her in a warped plastic cup she was sure was the best he could fine in her cupboard, then scooped up a delighted Emma and said, "Get dressed. I'm taking us out to breakfast."

  Mia shook her head but Emma was already running around the room, squealing with excitement. "I have to work," Mia said lamely.

  "No. The wedding rehearsal is today. You said you'd go with me. Come eat with us, then I'm gonna go help Rachel for a while and I'll be back later tonight to pick you up."

  Mia was shaking her head, trying to protest, but Logan's eyes were so blue. His face so set. And Emma... she was zipping around the room like a butterfly. Mia finally consented.

  The three of them walked to a nearby restaurant that wasn't on Harvest Road, but also wasn't far from it. It was both clean and dirty. The booths were cracked and old, the tile floor pasted with dirt stains, but the silverware sparkled and the food smelled good. Breakfast was fun, but it was also weird. Logan kept staring at Emma. Mia saw him doing the calculations in his head and wanted to yell at him to stop. That it was none of his business. Most guys would be happy to hear that the kid wasn't theirs. What was wrong with Logan anyway? His eyes darted back and forth from Emma to Mia and back again.

  "So Emma," he said after a plate of French toast was delivered to her. She looked up to him, smiling. "Where's your dad?"

  Mia's jaw tightened and her lips went blue. She had to bite her tongue to stop from yelling at Logan. Instead, she kicked him under the table. But it was too late. Emma was answering.

  "I don't know," she shrugged. "Mommy doesn't like to talk about him. She says he's famous and lives far away somewhere, but I don't know where. Do you know Mommy?" She turned her small head to Mia and looked at her with accusing eyes. Mia thought that was probably in her head, Emma wasn't really accusing her of anything, but the guilt still lingered.

  Mia sat fuming, glaring at Logan. She wanted to leave but didn't want to make a scene. "I think we're done here," she said. Emma looked at her plate of French toast and her eyes welled up.

  "I can't finish?" Emma asked with tears sitting in her eyes.

  "Just take big bites," Mia said, softening her voice. "I have to go to work."

  Logan shot her a look. "I thought we agreed," he said. He looked genuinely hurt and for a moment Mia felt her guilt double. "You said you'd go to the wedding rehearsal with me."

  Emma's squeal peeled across the restaurant. "Wedding? Wh
o Mommy?"

  Mia turned to Emma. "No one you know. An old friend of Mommy's."

  Emma scrunched her face up. "Like Logan?" Mia nodded, wanting this conversation to end. "Can I go?" Emma asked.

  Now Mia turned on her. "No!" Emma's face crumbled and Mia instantly regretted the outburst. "Neither of us are going," she said, trying to soothe her now. "We can't. We don't have dresses."

  Logan's ears perked up. "Is that all it is?" Mia looked at him to see if he was joking. "What kind of dress do you want?"

  "Princess dress!" Emma cried. "Like the one at Mommy's job."

  Mia slammed her hand onto the table, startling all three of them and drawing looks from others. "We can't go," she repeated. "I have to work." She stood up and dragged Emma to the door. Logan followed, sullen, and walked them back to Mia's apartment with a pleading look in his eyes. Mia hesitated, then pushed Emma inside and shut the door on Logan.

  Chapter 12

  Logan was in the middle of stringing up some lights when Rachel poked him in the back. "Where were you last night?" she asked with a sly smile.

  "Out," he snarled.

  Her eyes flickered with irritation but instead of backing off she continued. "Out where? With who?"

  "Nowhere," he said. "With no one." He took two giant steps away from her but heard the crunch of the grass under her feet as she followed.

  "What's with you?" she asked. "My wedding's tomorrorow. You're supposed to be nice to the bride. "

  "Who's not being nice?" he demanded.

  She looked at him incredulous, then finally gave up and decided to leave him with whatever was causing his foul mood. He stared after her, feeling guilty for snapping at her. She hadn't done anything. Except introduce him to Mia.

  The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Mia had cut him off years ago without any explanation—unless of course you counted that bullshit about not wanting to hurt Rachel. Emma was three. The last time—the only time, until last night—that he'd been with Mia was three years ago. Emma even looked like him. Mia had brown eyes. They were beautiful, but they were brown. Emma's were blue. They reminded him of a fresh, bright sky at the start of a new day. Mia's hair was golden. His was sandy. More dishwater blond than the treasure chest Mia had. Emma's was right between the two colors, an amalgam of the two of them. Everything fit physically.

  Then there was that stuff Emma said about her dad being famous and living far away. That could have just been some story that Mia had told Emma, but what if it wasn't? Logan didn't usually think of himself as famous, but his picture was in the papers a lot, and he was on television. And California was certainly a far cray from Oakville.

  Logan parents still lived here. They'd never left. He didn't understand how they didn't know more. How no one in this town could give him any answers. And what about Rachel? She used to be Mia's best friend. She must know something.

  He went up the stairs to her room—it was actually her and Erik's room, but he'd somehow managed to hide out since his arrival, not to be seen except perhaps at dinner time. Logan didn't get what she saw in him—he was kind of a dick. He knocked on her door. It was a light rap at first, but when Rachel didn't answer he started pounding on it.

  "For God's sake," Rachel screamed from down the hall. "I'm in here!"

  He knew he was on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum, and tried to check himself. He marched down the hall to find Rachel in their parents' room trying on her veil.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  "Seeing which earrings look best with this veil," she said, looking in the mirror. Her voice was cool and crisp. She didn't turn to look at him, and Logan knew she was still mad.

  "Sorry I snapped at you before," he said.

  Though she was pretending not to look at him, Logan saw her eyes slid sideways and catch a peek at him. He knew was forgiven. "Is Mia coming to the rehearsal tonight? Who's coming tomorrow?" he asked. "I mean, has Mia decided on anything?" He was stumbling over his words and felt like an idiot. Luckily for him, Rachel was too reoccupied to notice anything weird.

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. "No. At least, I don't think so. You know, I don't know what's happened to her. How do you go from Harvard law to Smart Mart over night?"

  Logan shrugged. "Don't Mom and Dad know anything? Or some of your friends? It's a small town, someone must know something."

  "You'd think, right? But apparently Mia's super mysterious. She doesn't go anywhere or do anything. No one knows anything about her except for her job at Smart Mart. That's the one thing everyone seems to agree on." Mia shook her head. "I feel bad for her. It sounds like she has zero social life, and a bad job on top of that. No wonder she hides herself away, she's probably miserable."

  "You really don't know anything else?" he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

  Rachel glanced at him. "No. Why do you care so much?" Rachel was looking at him a little too closely now. Logan felt the heat rise back up in him.

  "Did you ever stop to think that the reason you don't know anything about her is because you're a spoiled brat who only cares about themselves?" Logan shifted on his feet, knowing full well that he was blowing up at Rachel for no reason, but unable to stop himself.

  "I am not spoiled," she said, then smirked. "At least no more than you are." He paused in his exit.

  "I'm not spoiled," he said. "I worked hard to get where I am."

  "Yeah? Well me too." They glared at each other from across the room until Logan stormed off, deciding to go ahead and wallow in his tantrum for a while longer.

  Chapter 13

  Mia stared at the clock on her wall. She had no idea whether or not Logan was going to show up. She'd felt so guilty after breakfast that she'd meandered around her apartment, half-heartedly playing with Emma, before finally texting him that she'd go to the stupid dinner. Then she'd called Mr. Rayner and told him Emma was sick. He'd been less than thrilled but surprisingly understanding.

  Logan had texted back that he'd pick her up at six. Now six o'clock had come around and Logan still wasn't here. She was about to tell Tera to go home, that she wouldn't need a babysitter tonight after all, when there was a light knock on her door. She opened it to find Logan standing on the outside landing, flowers in his hand. Mia's heart melted. She hadn't realized till this very second how much she really wanted to see him again. She quickly turned her head so Logan wouldn't see the momentary tears well up in her eyes.

  He handed her the flowers which she put into water, and said hello to Emma, who tried to crawl up his legs. "I won't be back too late," Mia said and kissed Emma's head. Emma waved to them from the window and they both waved back. It wasn't until they were in Logan's car that Mia realized he hadn't said one word to her since he'd knocked on her door. He'd silently handed her the flowers. He'd silently stepped inside when she asked him to come in. He'd spoken to Emma, but not to her. She glanced at him in the driver's seat.

  "I'm really sorry about breakfast," she said. "Emma loved her French toast." He didn't say anything but at least he looked at her. She felt herself getting irritated. What right did he have to be mad? He'd crossed a line today. "You shouldn't have asked Emma all those questions you know. That wasn't right."

  "What is right then?" he snapped. "Not telling Emma who her father is? Does the father know?"

  Mia fought back the tears that constantly seemed to be threatening to spill over lately. "None of your business," she said.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they got to the dinner, Logan didn't even open the car door for her, he just went straight inside. Mia followed after him, wishing she'd gone to work after all. Maybe it wasn't too late to get out of this. Then Rachel saw her and swooped in, throwing her arms around her and telling Mia how happy she was that she'd come.

  "Well, your brother dragged me," Mia said. Rachel shot Logan a grateful look, but he ignored them both, choosing to focus on the scotch at the bar instead. He poured himself a drink and only allowed himself a quick gla
nce at Mia when she turned her back and couldn't see him looking.

  Dinner was nice, except for the awkward silence between Mia and Logan. Luckily, no one else seemed aware of it. They were too busy making speeches, listening to speeches, and stuffing their faces with free food. After dessert had been served Mia found Logan out on the deck and told him she wanted to go home.

  "Am I supposed to care?" he asked.

  "You brought me. It's your job to take me home." She studied him. His eyes looked lost and sunken. "Damn it!" she shouted. "You're drunk again! Forget it, I'll find my own way home."

  She turned to go back inside, thinking she could walk to the bus stop if she had too, even in heels.

  "Wait!" Logan called, grabbing her arm. It wasn't forceful, it was just urgent. "Please don't go. You're always going." His voice cracked.

  Mia turned and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

  "Logan," she said, pausing, then throwing her arms around him. She didn't know what she was doing. She should either leave him alone or tell him the truth, she just wasn't sure which was better for everyone involved. Which would hurt the least?

  Every time Logan looked at her she melted a little more. Mia hated seeing him upset and knowing that she was the cause. She wrapped her hands around him, trying to comfort him. His lips were soft and warm and the taste of them instigated a short replay from the previous night. His hand reached up and caressed her cheek. His touch was too much to bear.