Fighting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Sports Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #5)

by Naomi Niles

  “That feel good, baby?” Rhett asked, in a husky voice. There was a confidence in his tone, one that I enjoyed listening to. He knew just what he was doing to me, how much he was turning me on.

  “Oh, fuck yes!” I cried out. We’d spent the last few days dancing around one another, never really letting loose, that it felt good to be finally able to do so.

  He kissed down my stomach as I squirmed and bucked with excitement. It felt like my whole body was on fire, and I didn’t even know what to do with myself. Eventually, another finger slipped inside of me, then another, before they were rapidly pulled away from me and replaced with a tongue.

  As he tasted me, I gripped onto his hair, groaning and crying out with bliss. I was aching for him desperately, but everything that he was doing to me made it too difficult to even think. I was teetering dangerously close to the knife’s edge of desire, and I couldn't take it anymore.

  “Oh shit, Rhett, I need you!” I finally screamed. “I want you. I’m so close.” My breaths were coming out short and ragged–and I could only pray that he knew what that meant. It had to be now, before I lost myself completely.

  He moved himself over me once more, kissing me lightly as he teased my entrance. “Are you sure?” he whispered, sounding a little unsure. I nodded frantically–there was no way that I was going to let him get away from me now. If he left at this moment, I might just die of frustration.

  That was enough to have him plunging into me. A sensation that rocked through my entire body, causing me to yell out in pleasure. It was likely that the whole camp could hear us, but I didn’t even care. I was far too lost in Rhett to even consider anyone else.

  I clung tightly to him for a few moments before swinging him around and positioning myself on top. If I was only going to get one chance to be with him–which I really hoped wouldn’t be the case–then I wanted to feel him from every angle. I wanted him to see all of me.

  He looked stunned for a few moments as I stared down at him, but it was a pleasant shock, one that soon turned into more desire than ever before. I wanted to surprise him, I wanted him to remember me always, no matter what, and so I rode him passionately, driving him crazy.

  After a few moments, he sat up and pulled me in for a deep hug, allowing us to kiss passionately all over again. We both moaned as our bodies moved in unison, and as the pressure of pleasure began to build up inside of me, I dug my nails deeply into his back, clinging on for dear life.

  As the waves of pleasure consumed me, and I crumbled and buckled above Rhett, he held onto me tightly, stopping me from falling apart. As the orgasm rocked through my body, he pressed his lips up against mine, making me feel closer to him than I ever had anyone else before.

  As the pleasure got its grip on him, I stared into his eyes the entire time, losing myself in the loving way that he was looking at me, making me feel like the most special girl alive.

  Moments later, we both collapsed on the bed side by side, laughing happily. “That was amazing,” I panted, elated. “Just...wow.”

  And, I really meant every word. That had been the most intense experience of my entire life, which was a wonderful way to end such a great week, but that also made it much more difficult to walk away.

  “I don’t want to leave,” I admitted to him.

  “Me neither,” he said, sounding about as solemn as I felt. “But, we’ll keep in touch, right?”

  “Of course!” Relief flooded through me at the fact that he did still want to see me again, after all. “I’d love that.”

  But then the memory of the wedding, which would occupy the next few weeks, filled my mind, souring my mood ever so slightly.

  “Come on,” Rhett finally broke the magic by sitting up in the bed. “We better get dressed. It really is time to go.”

  Chapter 8

  Rhett–Two Weeks Later

  Ever since my much too short time at Camp Woodtree, Danica had infected my every thought. I could not shake her from my mind, no matter what I was doing. I considered her lips while I was in the shower, I remembered her laugh as I ate my dinner, I went over and over our conversations while I worked my terrible summer job as a shelf stocker... There was just no end to her. It was as if my entire life had only become about her, and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop that.

  After the best week of my whole life, I came home with a newfound hope in my heart. I really felt like we could make it work, that we would keep in touch until the summer was over, and we could see each other once more when we went to college.

  I’d been excited to start my sports management course at Grange before, but now the knowledge that I was going to be near to Danica again meant that I couldn't wait for the summer to end–a feeling that I’d never had before. I normally lived for the summer months where I could work my crappy dead end job during the morning, then spend all afternoon surfing or rock climbing, or something like that.

  Now it all felt a little...empty.

  All I wanted to do was to be back in the middle of that magical week where everything had felt so simple. I knew it wasn't going to be as easy to keep things going when we weren’t living a few doors down from one another, but I hadn’t expected things to get this hard.

  I’d tried to call Danica a couple of times since returning home to recreate the spark, but she’d never answered my calls. I’d also send her a couple of texts, but I’d only had one reply.

  ‘Hi, Rhett, sorry I haven’t been in touch–things have been absolutely crazy! I’ll talk to you soon...promise! xoxox’

  That felt very much like the ball was in her court, so I hadn’t sent her anything since. I didn’t want to come across as needy as desperate–even if that was exactly how I felt. I was just endlessly waiting for her to contact me again, but it was as if she’d fallen from the face of the planet. I just kept staring at the one photograph I had of her on my phone, telepathically willing her to get in touch, but she never did, and it was absolutely driving me insane.

  Maybe it was time to accept that the whole thing had meant a lot more to me than it had her. Maybe it was time to let things go, to consider it as nothing more than a week-long fling.

  Out of pure frustration, just for a distraction, I snuck into the back room at work and phoned my best friend.

  “James?” I hissed into the receiver, as soon as he picked up. “Do you want to go for a hike this afternoon?”

  “Sure, bro,” he replied in the typically lazy way he always spoke. I could hear the waves in the background which meant he was down at the beach. He wouldn’t have been sunbathing, though. He was like me in that respect–he always had to be doing some kind of activity.

  Luckily for him, his family had money, so he wasn't ever stuck in a job he hated, like me. I always felt a little jealous of him, but today was on another scale. What I wouldn’t do for the distraction of swimming in the deep blue ocean. “Sounds good. Where do you want to go?”

  “Down past Blue Rock?” I asked, knowing that was the one place I couldn't get any reception. If my phone didn’t work, then I wouldn’t have to check it every two seconds to see if Danica had been in touch yet.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you at two, then?”

  “See you then.” The tight knot of stress started to ease slightly as I hung up the phone. Just knowing that I was going to get a break, some time away from real life while getting my heart pumping and my blood flowing–it was exactly what I needed.

  ***

  As the fresh air brushed past my ears and nature infected every one of my senses, I found myself returning to normal. It was clear to me now that I’d been getting myself worked up about absolutely nothing.

  There was no point in getting myself in a mess over something I had no real idea about. Maybe Danica really did have a lot going on, maybe she missed me as much as I did her, but there was something huge going on in her life–there was no point in jumping to conclusions when what I really should be doing was trusting her and enjoying myself.

  Even if not,
she was just some random chick that I’d spent a few days with. She didn’t have to be life changing. I didn’t need to be getting upset over her.

  Except, of course, I knew that wasn't the case.

  She’d already changed my life. There was no point in trying to lie to myself otherwise, it wasn't going to work. The bleak moroseness that had been my mood for the last few weeks wasn't for nothing.

  “You okay, buddy?” James asked me the question that he’d been dying to for a while now. We’d kept our conversation light and banter filled as we hiked, but now that we were far away from home, he finally felt ready to delve in deeper. He was usually really good at picking the right time for conversations such as this one, and this was a great example of that. Only, I wasn't quite ready to right away. I needed to ease myself in.

  “I guess so,” I nodded stiffly, knowing that I wasn't being completely honest. “Things are just a bit...shit.”

  “You’ve been down for a few days now. What happened at that camp?” I hadn’t seen James the first few days I returned because he was away on a skiing trip in the Alps with his family. By the time he came home, I was already starting to feel a bit weird about the whole thing since Danica had ignored two of my calls, so I’d kept it to myself.

  But now it felt like it was time to unload a little, to lighten some of the burden that was weighing me down. I’d been best friends with James for long enough to know that his opinion would be non-judgemental and impartial–precisely what I needed.

  “There was a girl,” I admitted, fixating my eyes forward, refusing to break pace. If I kept walking, then everything would be okay. “A great one, and things were amazing between us.”

  “Why-” he started, but I couldn't let him ask questions. I needed to just get this out before I got too upset. I couldn't break down in front of James–guy friends just didn’t do that.

  “But she hasn’t spoken to me since we got back, except to tell me that she’s busy. I don't know...it all just feels odd to me.”

  “Buddy,” James turned on his diplomatic tone with me. “Maybe she is busy, maybe something is happening in her life, and she isn’t ready to tell you about it yet. There could be hundreds of reasons why she hasn’t been in touch.”

  “You think?” Hearing it from someone else made me feel a little more hopeful. Especially from James–he was always honest about what he thought, even if he knew it wasn't what you wanted to hear.

  “Or maybe she just got sick of your ugly face.” He patted me on the back, laughing loudly, and I couldn't help but join in. His light-hearted attitude to things always made me see problems differently; it was one of the main reasons why I warmed to him in the first place.

  “Well, I can’t help my face!” I replied, laughing loudly. “I guess I should just leave it, then.”

  “Come on; Blue Rock is just around the corner. Let’s go and see if there are any fit chicks sunbathing on that private beach.”

  I knew that James was teasing, just trying to make me feel better, but even the thought of looking at other girls filled me with a hollow sensation of sadness.

  ***

  By the time we got back into civilization, my phone started bleeping like crazy. My heart lifted, jumping out of my chest, which only got worse when James said, “See, I bet that’s her now!” My hopes were dangerously high, and I was terrified that they were about to get dashed.

  Which, of course, they were.

  Unfortunately, when I looked at the screen, the missed calls and messages weren’t from Danica, but from a number that I never thought would pop up on my screen again. One that I never wanted to see again at any rate.

  What the hell?

  “Are you okay, man?” James asked, concern lacing his tone this time. “You’ve gone a bit...pale.”

  I slammed the phone back into my pocket, determined not to look at it again until I felt ready. Just seeing his name filled me with a powerful rage, and I needed to pass that before I said or did anything stupid.

  “I’m fine,” I replied gruffly. “Absolutely fucking marvellous.” When James continued to stare at me, wanting an explanation, I felt like I should give him one. He deserved that much after listening to me whine on about Danica earlier. “It was my dad.”

  “Your dad?” he gasped and rightfully so. I hadn’t ever mentioned my father to anyone before because he was a hateful bastard that I didn’t care one iota about. Even during the very brief periods that I’d spent time with him during my life, I’d never told anyone–mostly because it always ended badly, and I just wanted to forget that it had ever happened.

  James came from a loving, two-parent home, so he probably didn’t understand my distain towards someone who brought me into the world. I imagine that he assumed I had no idea who my dad was. Until now, of course. “Aren't you... Don’t you want to call him back?”

  Of course he was only trying to be supportive, but that didn’t help my black mood. “No,” I shot back sharply, taking my anger out on the wrong person. “My father hasn’t wanted much to do with me for the last twenty years of my life; I can’t imagine what could be so damn important now.”

  I was hot with rage, pumping my fists at the thought of that horrible man and the possible reasons that he could want me this time.

  “Okay,” James practically whispered as a reply, finally seeing how passionately I felt about this. His expression was one of shock and confusion, which made me feel awful. He certainly hadn’t done anything to deserve my outburst. “Sorry.”

  “No, no,” I reassured my friend. “It’s nothing to do with you, he just... He really pisses me off.” I paused thoughtfully for a few seconds before coming up with the only possible solution there was. “Shall we head to the bar? Get some drinks in?” I needed something to cheer me up.

  “Sounds good, man, let’s go.” He was so clearly relieved that I actually started to feel happy again.

  Drinking the night away with the best friend a guy could ask for seemed like the perfect solution to forgetting my fuckwit father. And if there was anyone that deserved forgetting, it was him. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of taking up any of my brain space, and the only way I could get him out–Danica, too, before she drove me crazy–was too sink a few beers.

  Chapter 9

  Danica

  “So that’s everything?” I asked the wedding planner once more. “Are you sure?”

  Mom had hired this woman–Victoria something or another–to oversee everything, to confirm any details, and to ensure that we didn’t miss anything, but the majority of the planning was down to us.

  Or, more likely, me.

  And, it wasn't a challenge that I’d taken on lightly. It had all but consumed me from day to night. Mom was breezing through this wedding planning as if there was nothing in the world to worry about, just writing the odd check now and again, whereas I was a complete and utter mess. As her Maid of Honour, I felt like it was my duty to do all of the panicking for her, but that didn’t stop it from being difficult. I could barely sleep as new visions of things going wrong kept continually popping up in my brain.

  When Mom married my dad, apparently, it was a tiny affair because they had no money. Brad, however, was willing to spend the Earth, and I wanted her to finally have the experience that she’d always wanted.

  I knew that she was happy the way things had been before–on the odd occasion that we discussed my father, she always said as much–but if anyone deserved the biggest, whitest wedding, it was her, and it was up to me to ensure that her detailed vision came to life. Okay, Victoria was there, too, but this was her job, not her family. I just didn’t feel like she had the same amount of dedication as I did.

  Sure, I wasn't one hundred percent convinced that this wedding was the smartest move for my mom, but that was an opinion that I was solely keeping to myself these days. It was too far gone, anyway–everything was organized. She wanted it, Brad wanted it, and I would just have to accept that although they had only been together a
short while, that they just knew and that everything would be okay. I had to trust in their decisions, to let them do what was right for them.

  As I stared up at the extremely tall Victoria, drinking in her perfect appearance once more, I wondered if she ever looked anything other than immaculate. I’d never seen her without every hair in place and makeup applied to perfection. This wasn't the sort of woman I could imagine slopping about in sweatpants with a messy bun in her hair, even during her spare time.

  Maybe I should believe that she had that kind of obsessive compulsiveness when it came to her job. It was her business, after all, and she came very highly recommended.

  I just struggled to let go...

  “Yes,” she insisted firmly, sending me what I was certain she thought was a reassuring smile. It did nothing to curb my panic. “Everything has been ticked off your mom and Brad’s list, I’ve checked and rechecked all of the bookings, and there is no longer anything to worry about. Everything is ready–there is nothing else you can do.” She held my shoulders, and stared deeply into my eyes. “So will you just calm down already?”

  I let out a deep breath, trying to act like I was listening to her, but the tight hot knot of panic was still there, dragging all of my insides into it. She could say anything she wanted to, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop worrying until the day was done and everything had gone perfectly.

  Only a week left; how the hell was I going to survive?

  Suddenly, another thought struck me. “Did you remember to add in a seat for Brad’s son at the meal?” This was a new addition to the plans. Apparently Brad’s son, whom he hadn’t seen for years–my mom hadn’t met him at any rate–was coming to the wedding. I had high doubts that he would turn up, but I didn’t want him to be chair-less on the off chance that he did come. I figured that it was better to have too many place mats set up, than not enough.

  Who the hell would want to come and see their estranged father get married? Brad only seemed to have one picture of his son that sat on the mantelpiece: a twelve-year-old boy with long, stringy hair hanging in his face. It was clear they’d never been close. I asked Mom once where this kid was, but she didn’t know. In fact, she went very quiet about the whole thing, but when she learned he intended to come to the wedding, she went over the top in her desire to ensure he had a good time.