Toxic (The Crossover Series)

by Kathy Coopmans

  An impressed chuckle rumbles in my chest. Maria Richards has all kinds of bravery and determination tucked into her tiny little body.

  “I take it you know that I’m more than part owner of the team, then,” I ask, testing the backbone she’s had with me since the day I stumbled into her family’s bed and breakfast.

  “Yes. It doesn’t scare me, if that’s what you're implying. You scare me, Alex, and I don’t mean I’m scared for my life. I mean for my heart, because whatever the hell has stolen the man the media claims you to be is the man I see when you aren’t drunk.”

  Ouch, that stings when it shouldn’t. She’s right, though, because I even scare myself when I’m drunk.

  She shifts forward on the couch, and those sincere eyes start searching. I can feel them in my soul. Searching for answers that are still painfully raw for me to talk about.

  “And what kind of man is that?” I couldn’t care less what the media thinks of me. I’ve lived in their scrutiny my entire life. They don’t know shit when it comes to me.

  “Well, you said you had demons. I picked those up from day one. The man hidden underneath is strong because of this weakness that possesses you. He’s not the type of man to toss money in my face out of guilt either. He’s the type to help others when they need it. To show people a good time. Whether he thinks it or not, his heart isn’t black as tar. I could go on for a long time about the man I see, Alex. You’re hiding pain, and it has you trapped. I believe you are trying to grasp on to something for help. I just hope it's not me you think can fix you. It’s not. You have to fix yourself first.”

  Her truthful admittance chokes me up, and the need for a drink has me swiping my fingers through my hair to stop them from shaking. I lean forward and meet her gaze. My eyes trapped by those plump lips. I wanted to kiss her badly in the parking lot. At the time I needed to know if she was real. If the woman who didn’t so much as flinch when I leaned my head against hers tasted as good as she smelled. Now I want to devour her.

  Brains and beauty. A wicked, deadly combination to stealing a man’s soul.

  I want to do many things to her. Fuck her fiercely for days. But as I look at her now and hear what she’s saying, I want to take my time proving to her that I’m a man worthy of a woman like her before she gives me the privilege of touching skin that will more likely brand me for life.

  “You left one important thing about me out. Something the media doesn’t know. I’ll get to that in a minute. Everything you said is right, except for me wanting you to fix me. I’m trying to do this on my own for many reasons. It’s one of those problems that aren’t always as they seem that I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life. I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done. I can’t do a damn thing to take them back, but I’m going to beat this craving and do it one day at a time.” I’m done talking about depressing shit. Just like her, I could keep going. I could fill her mind and fog up her brain until she’s crawling on her hands and knees through the haze to get away from me.

  Before I can make sense of what I’m doing, I get to my feet, grab hold of her hands, and hoist her up, her body crashing into mine. A gasp that has my dick on board with my dirty thoughts escapes her mouth. Those big eyes of hers are gazing up and bordering on hungry.

  “You left out the part where I’ve met this woman I know little about, and she is unquestionably the most stunning woman I’ve laid my eyes on. She has confidence, poise, and I could listen to her sing for hours. Her voice is soothing, she has a killer body, and her mind is powerful. I want to know everything about her.”

  “See, there he is,” she claims.

  My shaky palm grips the back of her head, slanting it so I can get one tiny little taste until I see her again. “If you think you’re the only one scared, you are mistaken. You fucking petrify me.”

  Her mouth parts, giving me the opportunity to latch on to it. Christ Almighty, she’s going to ruin me in a way my heart is unprepared for. She tastes like the sinfully sweet woman I dream of.

  I bite back a groan, not because I want to. Far from it. I can’t override the moans coming from her. They are the sweetest thing next to her voice I’ve ever heard. I want to hear them when I’m balls deep inside of her.

  I can’t control myself. I start to fuck her mouth. Every crevasse I want to explore. It’s been so long since anything in my life felt this good, this right, and worth every damn bit of aggression I’ve tormented myself with to stay away from her, to not taint her with the blackness that coats me.

  My fingertips trace the length of her jaw; the fire underneath them shoots more warmth through my veins than any swig of whiskey has done. And she kisses with fiery passion. I need more of her.

  I drop my hand to the curve of her hip, back us up until her legs hit the couch, and she falls backward, her body a fucking vision. Face flushed, chest heaving. “Do you want me to go?”

  “No. I want you to get down here and finish what you started,” she whispers, voice thick and heavy.

  “If I finish what I started, it won’t be with you on a couch. I’ll have you stripped naked on your bed and fuck us both out of our minds, Maria.”

  Her breath hitches before words she almost has me believing tumble out of her mouth.

  “You won’t, Alex. Grab hold of that control you claim you have and get your ass down here.”

  It takes my brain a minute to catch up to what she’s saying. I won’t admit it out loud that what her words and her lust-filled eyes are asking me I haven’t done since I was eighteen years old. I’ve kissed, touched, and done everything with a woman because it always leads up to fucking them. Not once have I made out with a woman without an endpoint in mind.

  I sit on the opposite end, grab her by the ankle, and pull her onto my lap. My hands go to the tips of her silky hair, tugging them until her neck angles, and my tongue traces the delicate curve leading up to the pulse fluttering just below her ear. It takes more willpower than I think not to raise my hips and grind into the heat of her center. I can feel it burning through my jeans. This woman is on fire, and after the way I treated her, I’m a lucky man that she’s giving me the chance to touch her.

  I’ve no doubt she has flaws. Right now, though, she’s nothing but pure perfection to me. Smooth skin, a face that would drop a man to his knees if that’s what it took to get her to notice him.

  My hands glide down her back, my lips take hers in a bruising kiss, and when she rocks up against me, I grab hold of the tight globes of her ass. The tremor in my hand turns to a disturbing itch to touch every inch of her bare skin. My mind goes to war with my dick to flip her onto her back and get comfortable between her thighs. I almost do it when she places her hands in my hair, yanks hard enough to separate our mouths, her tongue darting out, head dipping, and her warm breath flames the skin at the base of my throat before she nibbles and sucks.

  “Jesus Christ, Maria, you keep on like that, it’s going to be hard for me to keep my hands right where they are.”

  “It won’t. I trust you.”

  “You shouldn’t. Not with the things I want to do to you.” She doesn’t respond with words; her hot little mouth kisses up my neck. It’s the most erotic thing I have ever felt in my life.

  Her hard nipples press up against my chest; those pointed peaks need to be in my mouth.

  I groan when she releases my hair, skin prickling with a desire to strip her bare, but when she drops her head to my shoulder, her hands locking together around my neck, and she squeezes me in her embrace, my closed eyes open and the cold truth slaps me in the face.

  She might think she isn’t what I need to fix me. For many reasons that go way beyond the crime I committed, she couldn’t be more wrong.

  8

  Maria

  I startle awake with my sheets tangled around my ankles and sweat beading on my forehead. The dream. Holy shit, that dream was my reality a few nights ago. I was straddling Alex’s lap, his hands cupping my ass, our mouths sealed together. The
moment when I slumped my head on his shoulders, my body reacted on its own. I hugged him, then I couldn’t help but glide along his extremely hard and massive erection. I’m fairly certain wondering what he would feel like inside of me was the focal point of my dream. He kept me moving until a blissful set of fireworks imploded low in my core. It’s was the most delicious sensation. I find myself craving more.

  It’s pathetic how easily he had me wound up. I swear when it comes to sex, I’m as innocent as they come, but with Alex in my life, I want so much more with him. The raw honesty between us the other night has lit me on fire with such desire it controls my every thought.

  After brushing my teeth and using the restroom, I lean on the doorjamb, peering at my couch. The same one Alex fell asleep on with me cradled in his arms. The last memory of that perfect night was Dixie jumping up on my feet and Alex kissing the top of my head, whispering sweet words.

  I’m going to break through this because of you, Maria. Because of you.

  I remained quiet and still in his arms, allowing each word to send warmth flowing through my bloodstream. That night, I saw the fight and fire in Alex. He has it in him to beat his darkness. I can only hope he continues to let me into his life while he does.

  I lay there long after he left, telling myself I was going to mind my own business when it came to whatever was eating him up inside, and if the time came when he wanted to share, then I would listen and be there for him in any way he needed; but I refuse to help him or have anything to do with him if he carries on with his drinking. How he makes me feel is irrelevant when it comes to his health and safety.

  I grab my cell phone off the counter to see there isn’t a good morning text from Alex. We’ve both been slammed the last two days. Yet he’s texted me both mornings. And like some damn teenage girl, I get giddy every single damn time.

  The doorbell to my apartment startles me. Dixie begins yipping and circling by the door. I tug down my oversized T-shirt, run my palms down my yoga pants, and slowly make my way to answer. It can be only one person. Peaches. The woman has no idea of time unless it comes to her employees showing up for their shift or the bar closing down. ‘Screw appropriate visiting hours’ is what she always says. My one day off from college, work, and homework, and she would be at my door at barely eight in the morning. She probably wants to make sure I’m eating and getting enough sleep. Good thing I love her.

  I gasp when I pull open the door. It isn’t Peaches. Far from it. An enormous colorful arrangement of roses stares back at me. The bouquet hides the person holding it. After a few beats, an older woman peeks around the beauty of the roses.

  “Maria Richards?”

  I clear my throat, eyes bulging in surprise. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Here you go. Enjoy.” She passes me the roses, and good hell, they weigh at least twenty pounds.

  I kick the door shut and turn, placing them on an end table. Taking long moments studying the varying colors. The main color is a gorgeous blue with hints of silver filling between, with muted yellow, light pink, and white roses all mixed in. My hand trembles as I reach for the card knowing these are not from my parents.

  Maria,

  Wish I could be there with you and adore your gorgeous smile. I’m at the stadium. There’s a ticket for you at the will call booth. Text me when you get here. It’s game day, baby.

  Alex

  PS - That was me asking you out on a date.

  After I read the final word, my phone chirps. It’s the ringtone I assigned him. Good hell, I have it bad for this man. There’s no more denying it either. I pick up my phone, sliding open the screen.

  Alex: So, what do you say?

  I grin at his eagerness.

  Me: Thank you. They are gorgeous!

  Alex: Not as gorgeous as you.

  Me: Standard pick-up line.

  Alex: Might be true. This is the first time I meant it. Yes or no, Maria?

  My heart skips. I’m far from a pushover, but his bossiness suits him. The real him.

  I laugh out loud picturing him running his hands through his thick brown hair and the frustration building in his features while he waits for my answer. Alex is a man who is used to getting what he wants. The joke is on him because I’m all in for this adventure.

  I wait a minute before I text him back.

  Me: Don’t you have to work?

  Alex: I kick ass at multitasking.

  Believe me, I’ve noticed.

  Me: I’d love to come to the game. What time should I be there?

  Alex: Come to the stadium at 11:00. That way I can come get you before it gets crazy.

  Me: What should I wear?

  Alex: I don’t think you’d like my answer.

  I laugh like an idiot. It was a dumb question to ask him. I chalk it up to nerves.

  Me: What would be your answer?

  I’m flirting with danger right now and love it.

  Alex: Those cowboy boots and nothing else.

  Heat and desire pool low in my core. The familiar sensations he fired up in me flame my cheeks with bright pink as I think about all the ways Alex Diamond could make me feel. It’s endless.

  Me: Yeah, not happening. See you soon.

  Alex: See you soon, beautiful.

  I smile at his last text. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he means each and every word. I toss down the phone as I race to my closet. I have two and half hours to get ready, which is more than plenty of time, but I want everything to be perfect.

  As I wait for the shower to heat up, I find myself hoping like hell Alex ends up staying the night on my couch again. I haven’t slept that well since I’ve lived here.

  I begin to strip out of my clothes when lingering doubt does its best to bring me down. Alex is an experienced and powerful man. I’m not sure how he’s going to take the news I’m still a virgin. I know it’s a rarity these days. The truth is, I’ve never found a man who I was even close to sharing that piece of me with until him. I find myself wanting to have that with him more and more. But it’s still too early. I won’t give away something I’ve saved this long just because a man has made me feel.

  I sigh. Here it was less than a week ago I was fighting these feelings, and now look where I am, thinking about sex.

  I shake off the thoughts and step into the shower. Time is on my side with Alex, and I’m going to take full advantage of every last minute. The slick soap on my skin and the idea of seeing Alex in a few hours set my skin on fire with passion and lust. He may be an addict in his ways, but I’m becoming just as big of one when it comes to him. I glide my palm down the front of my stomach until my fingers meet my center. I’ve done this plenty of times, but honestly, never to a face of a man I’ve wanted. It’s different since Alex has touched me. The building release is powerful and mind-numbing, leaving me wondering what his fingers will be like when he touches me in the only place I’ve dared to stroke.

  It’s his rugged jawline that flashes behind my eyelids as my fingers glide in and out. I feel the rumble of his voice as my spine tightens, and I work my fingers faster. I drop my head to the shower wall, giving in to the orgasm. It’s not until I catch my breath that I realize I was calling out his name the entire time.

  “What have you done to me, Alex Diamond?” My whispered question evaporates with the steam of the shower.

  My body tingles and shrills with excitement as I rush around my apartment getting ready. I leave my hair down in loose curls, swipe on some mascara, a bit of eyeshadow, and some baby pink lip gloss. It’s still warm in Idaho. That slice of time where summer is fading into autumn, but the sun still wins out the war, so I decide on a pair of tan shorts, a tight white tank top, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots.

  I didn’t miss the way Alex studied me that day in his office. He liked my country-style outfit, that I’m sure of.

  “Shit!” I yell when I see the roses. “Blue. I need some sort of team colors on.”

  I dig through my jewelry box until I find the
perfect chunky baby blue necklace. I toss on my Michael Kors watch and head for the door, throwing my large boho purse over my shoulder. I’m early. Way early. I’ll stop at a Starbucks. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

  I’m a bumbling mess the entire drive to the stadium. I tried paying with a Victoria Secret’s gift card at Starbucks and was honked at when I stopped at several red lights that had turned green. My palms are now sweaty, and my heart is hammering as I make my way to the will call booth. Hell, I had to walk damn near a mile weaving around cars and fans. The stadium is buzzing with excitement. I swear everyone in this state is here, and the majority of them are wearing jerseys with the name Blake on the back. I might not know football, but I do know who Liam Blake is. I think the entire nation knows him for not only his football but for the love story he and his wife share.

  “How may I help you?” an attendant behind a glass wall asks.

  “I have, um…” I fumble around with the words. I’m sure plenty of women show up here claiming they have tickets waiting for them courtesy of Alex Diamond. I clear my throat. “I have a ticket for today’s game here.”

  “Your name?” she asks, studying her computer screen.

  “Maria Richards.”

  I watch as she pecks away on a keyboard with her eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

  “There you are. Driver’s license, please.” She hits one final key that sends a printer in a flurry of activity.

  I manage to dig out my license and slip it to her under glass.

  “Enjoy the game. And go Diamonds!” She beams at me and then turns her attention to the next person behind me.

  Now what? I look around for Alex in the sea of people. I see the entrance I entered the other day and know damn well there will be no way in hell I’m getting past security today. As I’m digging through my purse to find my phone, I hear someone call out my name.

  “Maria. Maria Richards.”

  I peer up to a beast of a man wearing a black shirt with Security printed across his chest. I nod my head, unable to speak.