by S. J. Bishop
23
Emma
I couldn't stop my body from quivering every time Jackson touched me. Energy surged between us. I felt like a teenager about to lose her virginity. This wasn't another drunken one-night stand. This was real. When his hand reached under the fabric of my shirt and squeezed my nipple, my nerves broke loose. A thin film of sweat formed on my forehead like I was standing in the sun.
"Why are you shaking?" Jackson asked. His deep, dark voice sent chills up my spine. It felt as though I was lying on a sheet of ice.
"Because this changes things," I whispered. His large hands stroked my shoulders, exchanging the chill in my spine for heat. He reached down and kissed me gently on the lips. I tasted his sweet-salty mouth, reminding me of ocean water. There was danger in those lips. Swallowing ocean water only made you thirst for more.
The raw scent of his masculinity filled my nostrils, making my thighs clench. There was nothing more enticing than the male scent when it was so coarse and natural. The nervousness I'd felt began to lift, replaced with a deep longing that set my nerve endings on fire. Jackson was an aphrodisiac more powerful than anything you could buy at a store. Who needed oysters when I had suntanned skin and rich brown eyes to short-circuit my brain?
His hand continued to play with my nipples, rubbing and rolling them between his large, thick fingers. I liked the way he pulled at them, teasing me. He lifted my shirt and opened his mouth over them, making my body quake as his tongue swirled around first the right one, then the left. It was like a volcano went off inside me, spewing forth hot magma. Deep appreciation for Jackson's tongue gushed between my legs. I wrapped my legs around his backside, pulling him tighter to me.
His muscles rippled under his shirt. I lifted it off him as he continued to kiss my breasts. I felt his bulge press against my hips. His hand reached between my legs, touching me through my pants. Fresh heat erupted where his fingertips massaged me. His dark brown eyes stared down at me, forcing feelings into me that I'd never before experienced in bed with a man. Jackson bit my ear, making me giggle.
"You like to play rough," I teased.
"Only off the field," he teased back. He pulled my shirt over my head, exposing my breasts fully now. He took his time with them, not rushing anything. My core tingled as his tongue licked the sensitive skin around my areolas. He kissed up and down my ribs while he stroked the back of my neck with his strong and capable fingertips.
Jackson's muscles pulsed against me, almost too much to take in. His breath was almost tangible as it came out of him in hot waves. My pussy ached for more than the fingers that lay there massaging me. I closed my eyes and let my body absorb the smoothness of his bare skin against mine. It was like his body had been cast from a mold. His powerful muscles rubbed against me. My breasts pressed against his chest.
He kissed my mouth again, and it was like a bomb had been detonated inside me. Wetness spread between my legs. I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed my pants off and unzipped his, pulling his cock free and exploring him. My fingertips lightly brushed over the hard ridges of his shaft. I licked my finger and massaged his tip. I could feel his juice seep out as I stroked him.
"Oh God, Emma," he said, his hot breath spreading over my face. "I want you." His mouth dominated mine as he kissed me, forcing a new eruption from deep within. It was like a tidal wave of desire rushed over me, building into a tsunami. His velveteen lips ruled my senses. I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed his pants off, kicking them onto the deck floor.
A new eagerness took hold of me. I kissed his chest, his neck, and his lips. I was hungry for him. Raw emotion whipped through my body. Gentle wasn't gonna cut it for me. Not now.
"Wear me out," I whispered, biting his ear. "Use me up."
His hot breath whispered in my ear. "When you leave here today, you'll be lucky if you can walk."
I could hardly see straight as the tip of his cock bumped against my opening. I spread my legs wider, inviting him inside. He bounced his cock against my clit one last time before sliding into me with ease. My legs squeezed around him like a boa constrictor as he moved inside me. I let loose an animalistic scream. There was something so primitive yet so powerful about the urge to fuck him. I'd never felt so in sync with a man before. It was like our bodies had melded together into one mass of skin on skin.
Every time we'd sat down at the negotiation table seemed like foreplay now. This was the moment when we sealed things. The contract was nothing but a ruse. A way to fuck each other without really fucking. His erection was strong and thick as he moved inside me. My flesh felt like it was on fire as my opening tightened around his mass. A deep ache of arousal swelled inside my core.
"I won't break," I told him.
He smiled down at me, his eyes mesmerizing me with their provocative gaze. Then he plunged into me like my hole was a steel door he had to break down.
"Yes!" I shouted, my body craving more of his male aggression.
I felt like this could last all day, but I didn't think my body could take it if it did. There was too much heat. Too much raw emotion. I needed him to make me cum before I ruptured. I could feel his heart beating volatilely inside his chest every time he thrust into me. I couldn't stop the need in my groans. He reached down and spread my legs even wider, pushing into me with new force. My back arched as his torso touched mine and his balls banged against me. He bottomed out inside me, and I was on fire.
I bit my lip to stop from screaming, afraid he'd get the wrong impression. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted him to claim me. Suddenly, things felt critical. I allowed a heavy groan to escape my lips, letting him know I was about to come unhinged.
His cock throbbed violently inside me as I gripped his tight, golden ass. I sucked my breath in and clamped my legs tighter around him. He laced his fingers through my hair, kissing my mouth as his cock moved in and out of me. A clap of thunder rang inside my head. I was erupting. I looked up and met his golden-brown eyes. Lightning bolted from them, hitting me with maddening force. He groaned as his seed spurted into me.
I felt his hot cum fly up my cave, filling me with our mutual desire. My pussy relaxed its grip, blissful contentment flooding me as we peaked.
I groaned softly as he fell on top of me, his musky scent starting to make me feel frisky all over again.
"So, if a hearty breakfast is what you need to start the day right," I teased, "what does something like this do?"
He raised himself up, his biceps flexing as masculinity oozed from his pores. "This should set us right for the whole week," he said, smiling. "Though just to be sure, you better pencil me in for tomorrow."
24
Jackson
I knocked on the bathroom door for the twentieth time. "Emma?" I called. "Are you coming out?"
I didn't get it. I'd just had the best sex of my life, and no sooner did we get inside than Emma ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. What the fuck was going on?
"Are you sick?" I asked, concern rising in me now.
"No!" she shouted back, but I had my doubts. She’d said she hadn't felt very well this morning during breakfast.
"Can I get you anything?" I asked.
"My clothes."
Disappointment rushed through me. I'd been hoping to get another look at her hot body again before she got dressed. I sighed and returned to the deck to retrieve her clothes. I knocked on the bathroom door again.
"Got them."
"Thanks. Can you just leave them out there?"
Leave them? What the fuck? She'd been in there for twenty minutes already. She must be sick. I set her clothes on the floor just outside the door and went to find something for her stomach. Maybe she'd been drinking earlier at the party before I'd seen her with Bryant. It still pissed me off the way he'd shoved her like that. Especially when she seemed so fragile next to the football players we were so used to tackling.
Shit. Something just occurred to me. Bryant had threatened to ruin her reputation. I didn't think she knew that
. I hated to give her such bad news so early in the day, but she had a right to know what an asshole he was. I still didn't understand why she'd gone to Zach's party with him in the first place. I'd thought they were a one-time thing, but their heated argument seemed to prove otherwise. What had they been fighting about anyway?
Suddenly, Emma appeared, fully clothed, with her purse over her shoulder. "Where are my shoes?" she asked. She had a wild look in her eyes.
"By the front door," I told her.
She ran to the door and slipped into her shoes like my floor was hot stones that she needed to get off of before her feet got burned.
"You're leaving?" I asked. I'd been hoping we could spend the day together. I didn't want to say that, though. Especially not when she so clearly wanted to get the fuck out.
"Yeah. Sorry. I can't stay. I have a... meeting I forgot about."
"A meeting?" I asked, dubious. "Who with?" She hesitated, and I saw on her face that she was lying. It started to piss me off. "If you wanna go, then go," I said. "You don't have to make shit up."
"I'm not," she said, but her cheeks burned crimson.
"Whatever. You need me to drive you?"
"No thanks. I called a cab."
A horn honked from the driveway, and I looked out the window to see the same company I had on my speed dial pull up into my driveway. She must've called them while she was in the bathroom. The horn honked again, and Emma flew out of the house like it was on fire.
"Bye," I yelled, trying to stop my temper from rising. She didn't even turn around. I shut the door when the cab was gone and slammed my fist into the wall, leaving a hole. "What the fuck was that all about?" I shouted.
Now I had nothing to do today and no one to do it with. I couldn't attend practices. I couldn't play. The meeting with the Association wasn't for two more days. What was I gonna do in the meantime? A thought struck me. Even though I couldn't play, I wasn't barred from the stadium. Coach Granger and I had had our problems in the past, but he'd always been a fair man. He knew the problems between me and Bryant better than anyone.
Maybe if I talked to him and told him that Bryant had purposefully goaded me into a fight, he'd believe me. The penalties for taunting weren't nearly as steep as those for punching a referee, but still, Bryant might get pinged for it and then he'd be on Coach's shit list. Maybe Coach would even back me up in the meeting.
I hopped in my Porsche, pushing Emma's abrupt departure from my mind. No point in dwelling on it right now.
It always struck me as odd when I showed up to an empty stadium. It just didn't feel right without a million fans there to cheer you on. I was headed for the locker room when I ran smack into Bryant.
Fucking perfect.
"Hey, Jackson," he said, grinning like a fool. The bandage was back on his nose. Too bad it wasn't his arm I'd broken, then he couldn't play and they'd have to use me. Unless they wanted to stick the backup, Liam, in there, that is, but he wasn't ready to be a full-time quarterback yet.
"Move it," I said, trying to walk around him. He blocked my path.
"I wouldn't go down there if I were you. Carter's looking for you."
Yeah? So?"
"I think he means to break your jaw."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked. I was getting a bad feeling. Bryant looked way too happy to see me.
"Someone posted naked photos of his sister all over the internet. She's an actress, you know. This could kill her career. Though I doubt it. It only works like that if you've got a bad body, and trust me when I say there's not a blemish on her."
"What does this have to do with me?" I asked.
"Someone told Carter you were the one who posted the pics."
My heart stopped. Oh shit. There were two things you didn't do on a football team. One, fuck another teammate's wife. And two, fuck his sister. If Carter thought I'd broken one of the cardinal rules, he was probably ready to kill me.
"You sick fuck," I snarled. Obviously, he was still telling Carter lies about me to get me in trouble. "I oughta—"
"You asshole!" a voice shouted from down the hall. I turned and saw Carter standing fifty yards away from me. He had a murderous look in his eyes.
"Carter, now, hold on," I said, lifting one hand, trying to placate him. But Carter wasn't about to be placated. He ran toward me faster than I'd ever seen him run before. "Shit," I said and took off. I looked back over my shoulders when I made it to the parking lot, but Carter was still on my heels. I fumbled in my pocket for my keys and pulled them out, slamming my car door shut just as Carter caught up to me. He pounded his fist against my window.
"Carter, stop it!" I shouted. "I didn't fuck your sister!" But he was beyond hearing me. His fist crashed through the driver's side window just as my Porsche roared to life. Blood dripped onto the seat as I peeled out of the parking space. Carter refused to let go, his hand searching for the lock to open the door. I hit his knuckles hard with an empty glass coke bottle, and he withdrew his hand. I gunned the engine and got out of there before Carter had another chance to kill me.
25
Emma
I had finally stopped puking. On the cab ride home, I'd made the driver pull over twice so that I didn't throw up all over his car. I thought morning sickness didn't start until way later into the first trimester. Boy, was I wrong.
I still couldn't believe what a one-eighty this day had taken. A couple of hours ago I'd been on Jackson's deck, curled up in his arms, and now I was home alone, crying my eyes out. I knew I should've just told him the truth, but how the hell was I supposed to do that without losing him? I couldn't believe I was saying this, but keeping Jackson was just as important to me as keeping my career. I had to find a way to stop him from leaving me, even if that meant hiding my pregnancy from him.
You can't hide it forever.
"I know that," I snapped. Great. I was yelling at the voices in my head now. Did people suddenly turn crazy when they became pregnant?
There was a loud knock on my door. My first thought was that Jackson had come over wanting answers as to why I'd rushed out like I had this morning. I didn't blame him. I'd acted like a crazy person. What possible excuse could I give him? I supposed I could just tell him the truth, or at least a version of it–I was sick to my stomach. No big deal. That kind of thing happened all the time. It was perfectly normal. But what if he then wanted to know why I hadn't just told him that to begin with?
One thing at a time.
I opened the door and froze. My father was staring back at me. He did not look happy. He stormed into my apartment without waiting for an invitation.
"Hi, Dad," I said.
He turned to me, enraged. "I want to know what the hell is going on between you and Jackson Vega, and I want to know now."
The little girl in me cowered. "Well, I'm still working on closing up the contract, but I'm very, very close."
"That's not what I mean," he growled.
He stood in my living room, arms folded, waiting for an answer.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.
"It's all over the locker room," he snapped.
"What is?"
"Did you and Jackson leave Zach's party together last night?"
My heart palpitated hard in my chest. I tried to breathe but couldn't get the air in. "Um, well, not exactly." One solitary tear leaked from the corner of my eye. I just couldn't fight it back, no matter how hard I tried.
My father spun around, disgust registering on his face.
"I thought your mother and I raised you better than this."
"Dad, I—"
"I don't want to hear it, Emma. I'm taking over Jackson's contract negotiations. I should never have let you talk me into letting you handle it. Women throw themselves at Jackson all the time. I don't know why I expected you to be different."
"I didn't throw myself at him!" I shouted, angry now. My face flushed, and I prepared myself to fight him out on this. I'd worked too hard to let this deal s
lip through my fingers because someone couldn't keep their mouth shut.
"Your mother would be so disappointed," he said.
My face fell. Tears welled, then flowed from my eyes. I couldn't fight it anymore. I sobbed in front of my father like a child. He gave me one last sorrowful look, then walked off without another word.
26
Jackson
I sat in the waiting room of the auto glass shop while they changed out my busted window. I didn't blame Carter for being pissed. I blamed him for being stupid enough to believe whatever Bryant told him. When Carter had first arrived on the team, he'd been quiet, pining away for some girl named Ava. Bryant had successfully knocked that shit out of him. Now, Carter was a bad ass playboy who was developing a real habit of acting like an adrenaline junkie.
Louis walked past in his coveralls and waved. His hair was dark with flecks of dandruff, and his five o' clock shadow was a little extra heavy today. I'd known him a couple years now. He had this auto glass shop, plus a repair shop where he worked on my Porsche whenever she acted up.
"Hey, Lou," I called. He stopped and turned. "How much longer?"
"Not long, man. Twenty minutes, tops. Easy peasy." He went back to his business, and I leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes. An image of Emma flashed across my vision, invading my senses with her flaxen hair and porcelain skin. In my mind, I felt the polished surface of her cheek as she nuzzled against my hand.
What the hell was wrong with me? Me? Hell, what was wrong with her? We'd spent an incredible night together last night and an even better one this morning. Talking with her had been effortless. Why had she run off like that? It nagged and nagged at me until my head felt like it was gonna explode.
I wished Lou had a shop that could fix Emma the way he fixed my car. I could just bring her in, and he could diagnose the problem. Engine light? Off. Hothead light? On. Undiagnosed anger control problems? Check and double check. But except for the first night we were together, when I'd practically kicked her out of my house in the morning, what did she have to be mad about?