The Love Game (a Bad Boy Sports Romance) (Damaged Book 3)

by Avery Wilde

  The doors opened and I stepped back, my arousal evident in my shorts. She shyly took my hand and together we walked, almost skipped at a fast pace, down to the penthouse doors. I fumbled with the key before throwing them open and allowing her to walk inside. Derek was going to be pissed that I hadn’t stayed for our customary post-game debrief, but I didn’t fucking care. He could do without me for just one day. And so could the reporters.

  She turned around, the heat in her eyes still apparent as I dropped my bag and started to peel off my clothes. My shirt was first, and I dropped it on the floor as I walked toward her. Her eyes widened with hesitation as she saw my naked chest, and I stopped, breathing heavily as I stood before her. I was going too damn fast. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?” she asked, her bowed head looking directly at the bulge in my shorts. Damn, I was going to lose it if she kept staring at it like that.

  “I-I’m not sure,” I answered, blowing out a breath. “Maybe we should start over. Go slower?”

  She smiled and closed the gap between us, pressing her body against mine. “No, we shouldn’t. We’ve waited far too long.”

  I captured her face with my hands, pressing a kiss against her lips. “So we should continue then?”

  “Yes, you don’t need an invitation,” she breathed, her hands roaming over my shoulders.

  “Neither do you.”

  She stepped back and ran her hands over my chest, feeling every ridge, every weary muscle. Normally I came back to the hotel and crashed, but I wasn’t feeling the weariness of the match I had just played. Instead I was nervous, on edge, and painfully hard for her. Her hands traced my abs, her fingers tickling the whorls of hair that led down to the spot that was awaiting her touch. “Do you like that?” she asked softly, pressing a kiss on my pec. I nodded, unable to form the words, and she laughed huskily, her hand brushing my cock through my shorts. I groaned, pressing forward for her to touch it again and was rewarded with her fingers wrapping around the length of me, her skin burning into mine. “Fuck,” I breathed as she explored me with her fingers. “Damn, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

  “You’ll live, I promise,” she answered, dropping to her knees, taking my shorts with her, pulling them down to my ankles. I swore and closed my eyes as her lips touched my swollen head, tasting me for the first time in a long time. My hands went into her hair as she took in my length, her wet mouth nearly causing me to lose it right then and there. “I’m not going to make it,” I said, gritting my teeth as her fingers brushed my balls. “It’s been too long.”

  Her lips left me and I opened one eye, seeing an amused look on her face. “Do you always talk this much?”

  I growled and reached for her. She squealed as I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom, then pushed her onto the bed. “Too many clothes,” I muttered, grabbing at her pants. She laughed and helped me take them off, her clothes ending up in another pile on the floor next to the bed before I climbed on top of her, kissing her hard on the lips.

  “Yes… Please,” she breathed, moaning and arching against me.

  “Please what?” I asked, taking one of her rosy nubs in my mouth, sucking hard. She moaned again and grabbed my hair, forcing me to suck harder.

  “Fuck me.”

  I froze, looking up at her passion-filled face. Damn. That was clear enough. Removing my lips from her nipple, I looked at her. “Open your eyes, Ginny.”

  She did, and I gave her a smile, my cock poised at her opening. “I want to see your eyes when I’m inside you.”

  She didn’t say anything as I pressed against her, making my way into her already wet entrance. She opened her legs and I sheathed myself inside, feeling her shudder against me. “Damon,” she breathed, her hands roaming all over my upper torso and back, pulling me closer.

  Gritting my teeth, I moved within her slowly, giving her a chance to get used to me. Her legs wrapped around me, tight, urgent, and unwilling to let me go, urging me on, deeper. Her hands frantically grabbed and clawed at my shoulders as I increased the pace. Thrusting so hard and fast I thought I was going to go mad with the sensation. It was then I knew this was going to be the end for me. Ginny was going to be the end of the line, the last woman I ever did this with. The realization shocked me to my core, and I pushed it aside and focused on the present.

  I bent my head low to kiss her, my tongue delving into her mouth before I grabbed one of her legs and bent it upward, giving me better access to her sweet pussy.

  “Don’t stop!” she cried.

  “Then keep your eyes open,” I replied, wanting to see her every emotion and reaction reflected in her green eyes. I clamped my hands upon her hips and lifted her, a tiny angle, but it was enough to drive her insane. She screamed as the orgasm hit her, and I felt her clench around me, forcing me to cum a second later before collapsing on top of her, her breathing heavy in my ear. I lay there, feeling her heartbeat frantic against my chest, my body spent in more ways than one.

  “Wow,” she said a moment later. “That was, um, wow. We have to do that again.”

  “I echo that sentiment,” I chuckled, rolling off her. She blushed and pulled the covers up over her naked form as I crashed beside her, diving under the covers as well and pulling her warm, soft body close. She was all I needed. Ginny beside me. My day couldn’t go any better really. “I have to ask what took you so damn long? To contact me, I mean?”

  She looked over at me and arched a brow as I played with a few strands of her hair. “I could ask the same of you.”

  “Huh?”

  “I hadn’t heard from you until I got the envelope.”

  “That makes no sense. I’ve been fucking texting and calling your ass for weeks,” I said with a frown. Was she playing games with me? Trying to fuck with my head? It wouldn’t be the first time a woman tried to mess with me in that way.

  “You have not,” she answered, genuine shock on her face. “What number were you texting?”

  I told her the number, the one she’d called out in the airport. I’d memorized it, saying it over and over before I could enter it into my phone once I got it charged. I knew it by heart. She shook her head.

  “That’s not my number. It’s a zero, not an eight at the end.”

  “You’re kidding me! Well, no wonder,” I said, glad that she hadn’t been ignoring me after all. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I even tried to track you down.”

  “And I thought I was just a fling, you know a holiday romance?” she said quietly. I reached over and kissed her hard on the mouth, glad that she had decided to come, even after I’d screwed up. I bet she had thought I was the biggest asshole on the planet. “I told you it wasn’t the end. This is way more than a fling,” I whispered against her lips. “Right?”

  She nodded and I lay back on the pillow, pulling her with me until her top half was lying against my chest, my fingers in her hair. She sighed and I grinned, feeling that same delicious feeling. After the events of the day, arguing with my mom and the near disastrous ending of my match at Wimbledon, having Ginny here was the ultimate balm. But how long did I have her? Did I want to know? No doubt she wasn’t here forever; she would have to go home sometime. And I was smart enough to realize there was something more going on. Another man perhaps—maybe she was married. But there was definitely something big back in Florida that she felt a duty to. Whatever was between us, it hadn’t been enough to keep in her Paris, and I doubted it would be enough now. But I would do everything to keep her with me. I’d beg if I had to. It was comical really, that the Damon Holden couldn’t keep a certain girl in his bed. The media would have a field day with that if they only knew how hard I had fallen for her.

  “Don’t leave me,” I said softly. “Not again. I can’t promise that I won’t kidnap you this time around.”

  She looked up at me, her expression softening. “I can’t promise that,” she said, her voice breaking.

  I pulled her close, hating the fact
that she couldn’t agree to stay. When she was gone, I was lost. I needed her more than I cared to admit.

  17

  Ginny

  I was grinning like a damn fool. It was hard not to after what I’d just experienced with Damon; the heart-stopping, wonderful sex that rocked me to my core. Taking the chance to come to London, hoping that whatever we’d had in Paris was still there, had been huge risk on my part, but right now, all was right with the world.

  Turning over, I looked out the window at the city of London, not believing I had just travelled to Europe for the second time in less than a few months. My life had turned crazy; there were no other words for it, but I was deliriously happy. I mean, who else could say that Damon Holden was beside them in bed? I giggled, touching the spot where he had been lying only a few minutes before. Damon had just left, saying that we needed food to keep our energy levels up.

  “I can’t have you passing out on me,” he chuckled with a wink as I watched him get dressed. “There’s a great bistro around the corner. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he’d leaned over and kissed me so softly that I nearly pulled him back in bed for a second round.

  With a sigh, I turned over to stare at the ceiling. Was I reading too much into it? He had seemed pretty upset that I was ‘ignoring’ his calls and texts, and now part of me was dying to know what he had said. If he had gotten my number right the first time, would I have been in London sooner? As selfish as it felt, I was doing something for me. For the first time in my life, I was really living my life for me and not for my mom or my brother, or even my late father. I wasn’t watching people fall in love, I was the one falling in love!

  I swallowed.

  The thought knocked me sideways for a moment. Me, in love?

  A knock on the penthouse door sounded, and I threw back the covers. It hadn’t taken him long to get the food. Maybe he’d forgotten his keycard or had his hands full. Locating a fluffy cotton robe in the wardrobe, I threw it on and fluffed my hair as I walked out of the bedroom and across the living room, a smile on my face as I threw open the door. “That didn’t take long.”

  My smile died on my face as I noted the blonde woman who had been with Damon’s mom standing before me. Her eyes darkened. She was now dressed in a pair of designer jeans, her top form-fitting and showing off a great figure. I could see now that she was young—much younger than I was—and her makeup and hair were expertly done, along with her perfectly manicured nails. There was no competition between the two of us. She’d win hands down at any beauty contest.

  “Bloody hell, I certainly didn’t expect this,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “though I should have put two and two together when you were sitting in the box today.”

  “Listen,” I started out, swallowing hard. “I didn’t know you two were, I mean, he didn’t tell me that ya’ll were…”

  “Were what?” she urged, a hint of a smile on tugging on her lips. “You think Damon and I are together?”

  I bit my lip, wanting this conversation to end. But I couldn’t just close the door on her, or could I? Forget she ever turned up and caught me red-handed with her man? The look on my face must have told her what she needed to hear for she started to laugh.

  “Relax. Damon and I aren’t together. I’m his half-sister, Maddy.”

  “Half-sister?” I asked, dumbfounded. “I didn’t even know he had—”

  “Yeah,” she said, clearly amused by my confusion. “Our mom had a brief fling after she separated from Damon’s dad. Not many people know I exist.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, a dull flush blooming on my face. “I really didn’t know.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Maddy responded, giving my bathrobe a critical eye. “The question now is, who are you to my brother?”

  I swallowed, not quite sure how to answer her question. Even I didn’t know who I was to Damon. I knew who I wanted to be but didn’t know if he felt the same. I couldn’t even begin to put an official name upon our relationship. So, I went with the safe answer. “I’m Ginny,” I said awkwardly. “From the States. Your brother and I, well…”

  Maddy held up her hand. “I don’t need to hear the specifics, trust me. I get enough of that in the tabloids.”

  “Do you want to come in?” I said awkwardly.

  “Sure, for I won’t be long.” She stepped forward on high heels, and I closed the door. But it was even more awkward just standing there.

  “First things first,” she said, her British accent flowing. “Are serious about him, or are you after fame and his money? Because if you are, I will not be especially nice to you.” And the look on her face told me she meant every word.

  I shook my head. “I’m not after his money or fame. I mean, I really care for your brother.”

  “Good, you don’t look like one of his typical one-night-stand floozies,” Maddy responded. “But if you hurt him, I will rip out your heart, OK?”

  “Duly noted,” I said, glad that Damon had someone in his life who cared about him so much that she would threaten a perfect stranger. “Um, Damon isn’t here at the moment. I should’ve mentioned that beforehand.”

  “That’s even better. You can help me out,” she said, extracting a cream-colored envelope from her purse. “This is an invitation to Damon’s parents’ wedding. Our mom and his dad are getting remarried, but my brother, being the bull-headed idiot he is, is dragging his feet. He doesn’t want to go. I need for him to be there. They need for him to be there.”

  I took the envelope, surprised that Damon was refusing to have anything to do with his parents’ wedding. I wanted to ask why but knew it wasn’t my place. At least not with his sister. “Um, OK, I will do my best.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure you will. You’ll probably have more of a chance persuading him than me,” she said as she took another glance at my bathrobe, then raised her plucked eyebrows. “Good luck, and thanks, Ginny. Welcome to our crazy family, I guess.” Maddy opened the door and walked back down the hall.

  The envelope was heavy in my hands, and I wandered towards the sofa, waiting for Damon to return. At least I kinda had the stamp of approval from his sister, I thought. His mom would be another matter.

  It wasn’t long before Damon came through the door, his arms loaded down with bags. “Sorry I took so long,” he said, dumping them on the counter in the kitchen. “I ran into some fans.”

  I joined him in the kitchen and held out the envelope. “Your sister stopped by.”

  His good-natured expression turned dark as he eyed the envelope, and for a split-second I could see a slight resemblance between them. “Maddy came here?”

  “She left you this.”

  I watched as Damon ran a hand through his hair, then took the envelope and threw it onto the counter without looking at it. “What did she say?”

  I swallowed. “Um, that your parents are getting remarried, and you should be there.”

  He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping the top before drawing a long swallow. “What did she say to you?”

  “She was nice,” I said cautiously. I so wasn’t going to tell him about the whole ripping my heart out comment. “Didn’t say anything much. She asked who I was, so I told her my name.”

  Damon looked over at me, a resigned expression on his handsome face. “My family can be a meddlesome bunch.”

  “Aren’t all families? But it’s good that they are,” I said softly. “She seems to care about you.”

  His grin was quick. “She does. She can be a brat sometimes—she gets that from our mom, but her heart is in the right place for the most part.”

  “And your parents?” I prompted, wanting to learn more about him. I wasn’t going to force him to talk about his family as I didn’t want to talk about mine, but I had the need to know more about his life. Plus it would be a good starting point to get him to consider going to his parents’ wedding. I was sure he would regret it if he missed it.

  Damon drained the re
st of the beer and set the bottle down on the counter with a frown on his face. “My mom you’ve met. I guess you could say she wore the pants in the family. My father doted on her, gave her everything she could ever want, but it wasn’t enough. That combined with all traveling between her modeling career and my dad’s business, well, it just killed their marriage. I don’t remember them fighting or anything, just that she was moving out. It was really quick and efficient.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unsure of what else to say. He shrugged and pulled another beer out of the fridge. “That’s one reason why I don’t like the idea of them getting back together—she will use him again. Drain him for all he’s got.”

  “I may be out of line here, but if your dad is giving her another chance, maybe you could, too?”

  He shook his head. “I dunno. There’s more to it.”

  “Like what?”

  He pushed a strand off my face and behind my ear and sighed.

  “You know you can tell me, right? Whatever it is that’s bugging you.”

  He sucked on his teeth, contemplating my words.

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know I can. It’s just…”

  I slipped my arms around his waist and brought him closer to me and waited. Whatever it was, was weighing down on him and he needed time to build the courage to tell me.

  Finally he spoke. “My dad, he has cancer.”

  My heart went out to him and I squeezed him tight, letting him know I was there for him.

  I could see his jaw clench, and his eyes were full of emotion. I knew his feelings well. Both of our parents were dealing with life-threatening illnesses, and if he was like me, he probably felt helpless and unsure of the future. I know I did. Day to day, I was worried sick that something bad was going to happen, and I couldn’t deal with it. The thought made me think of my own mom back in the States and how I should be there. What was I doing, gallivanting around Europe, pawning my duties as a daughter off onto my friends?