Necessary Roughness (HotShots Book 1)

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Necessary Roughness (HotShots Book 1) Page 4

by Courtney Cole


  This was what I meant when I said he could tell what I wanted.

  Rough is amazing, but only when it’s followed by this.

  We fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, and I do have to admit that before I slumber, it occurs to me that I’m in Nicky Chase’s arms, in Nicky Chase’s bed.

  There are a million girls who would love to be here right this minute, but he chose me.

  It’s a good feeling.

  12

  Chapter Ten

  I wake up in the night, and I wake up hard as a rock.

  Sophie is soft and curled up beside me, her dark head resting in the crook of my arm. I smile at the angelic look on her face. I know that in here, she’s anything but.

  I slide my hand down her arm, and her skin reacts with instant goose-bumps. I kiss them away. She moves closer to me in her sleep.

  I kiss her neck.

  She starts to breathe heavier.

  I move downward to her breasts, and lick her nipples, then suck them to full attention.

  Her eyes open, and focus on me.

  She smiles.

  “You didn’t get enough earlier?”

  “Nope. I doubt I ever will.”

  She grins, like the vixen she is, and before I know it, she’s flipped me onto my back, and has slid onto my my shaft, and I’m moaning her name. She rides me hard and fast, and she gets so wet that she literally drips down my dick.

  “Fuck me, Nicky,” she whispers and her eyes burn into mine. “Fuck me hard.”

  Damn it all, but she’s going to make me cum already.

  I think of puppies and cold fish, and then turn the tables, rolling over on top of her and pinning her down. Her wrists are restrained and she grins again.

  “You like that?”

  She nods.

  “You want to be tied up?”

  She nods again.

  “You’re a dirty girl, kitten,” I tell her once again. She giggles, completely unashamed. I go digging in my closet for some neckties, my erection standing straight out in front of me.

  I return to the bed in twenty seconds flat.

  I tie her wrists firmly to each corner of the headboard, then for good measure, tie her ankles to the footboard.

  “Now what are you going to do?” she asks me breathlessly.

  I crawl over her slowly, with purposely, rubbing my skin over hers, in delicious friction.

  “I’m going to do whatever I want. Is anything off the table?”

  She thinks on that.

  “I don’t think so. But I’ll let you know.”

  “Ok.” I lick at her first, drawing circles with my tongue, and then lap, lap, lapping. At the same time, I rub her nipples with my fingers. Then I slide my fingers in and out, then lick my fingers clean.

  She’s panting.

  I slide into her, for one thrust, two, three, then pull out.

  She glares at me.

  “More.”

  I move my dick so close to her pussy that she can feel the tip, and she bucks and bucks to get to it, but I’m just out of reach. I do it on purpose.

  I slide my finger into her again, one, two, three of them.

  I let her ride my hand for a while and her eyes are squeezed tightly closed. I lean forward and suck on her nipples again, hard, harder, harder, and she’s panting when I’m finished.

  “Please, Nicky,” she moans. “Fuck me.”

  “How do you want it?” I ask.

  “Hard,” she begs.

  “Wrong answer.” I tease her with the tip of my dick, and then my fingers. She writhes beneath me.

  “How do you want it?” I ask again.

  “Gentle,” she says this time.

  “Wrong answer,” I tell her again.

  “What do you want to hear?” she asks, desperate by now. “Tell me and I’ll say it.”

  I kiss her hard, all the while still fingering her.

  She arches her back and she’s almost ready to climax, I can feel her breath speed up, her fingers clench into fists, and then I pull my hand away.

  I smile, and she’s limp.

  “How do you want it?” I ask one more time.

  “Any way you want to give it to me,” she says quickly. “Just fuck me.”

  “Right answer,” I tell her, and I slide into her again, and she cums within a minute, shuddering with her release.

  I follow close behind.

  “Good Lord, Nicky,” she chides me afterward. “Were you trying to kill me?”

  “Did you die?”

  She rolls her eyes. “No.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Good. I like you in my bed, Kitten.”

  She closes her eyes, smiling. “Good.”

  13

  Chapter Eleven

  Sophie

  Nicky wakes early, and quietly gets up to shower, careful to try not to wake me. I don’t let on that I’m already awake. He tries so hard to be quiet, that I don’t have the heart.

  When the water is running, I lay still, my hands feeling my body.

  My thighs are sore, and my lady bits definitely know they’ve been invaded. They’ve got that sweet ache that reminds me, not that I’ve forgotten.

  Nicky Chase has a way of getting into your head and staying there.

  In the light of day, it’s easy to think straight.

  I shouldn’t have done this. It wasn’t professional. I don’t want to be another notch in a belt. I just got carried away.

  It’s as I am berating myself that Nicky’s phone dings with a text on his nightstand.

  Out of curiosity, I glance over at it, and the words chill me to my bone.

  Remember, do what it takes. If you have to fuck her, fuck her.

  It’s his manager.

  And I’m quite sure that the her he is referring to is me.

  His meaning is quite clear.

  Nicky slept with with me simply so that I’ll give him the green-light to play ball again.

  It slams into me with the force of a Mack truck and it crushes me.

  I’m still in shock when he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, toweling off his hair.

  He glances at me, then stares, concerned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your manager texted. And you’re an ass.”

  I jump up and rush away, as dignified as I can naked, and he’s confounded.

  “What the hell?” I hear him mutter behind me. And then… he follows me.

  14

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicky

  I stare at Shorty’s text, and then at the empty bed, and I know what she thinks, and it makes me feel ill.

  “Come back!” I call, hobbling after her. “It’s not what you think.”

  She doesn’t answer, and she’s way ahead of me, and I hear her bedroom door slam closed.

  Fuck.

  This isn’t good.

  I try to open the door, but it’s locked.

  I hear a lot of banging going on, thumps and bumps.

  I knock, no answer.

  “Sophie, please,” I knock again. “Please. It’s not like that.”

  Silence.

  “Sophie!”

  Nothing.

  “When you first came, I didn’t know you,” I try to explain. “Shorty and I were just messing around. But then I got to know you, and I didn’t sleep with you for any reason other than I like you.”

  She stops moving, but there’s still no answer.

  “I like the way your eyes sparkle when you’re happy and snap when you’re annoyed. I like the way you’re a freak in the bedroom. I like the way you smile and the dimple in your cheek. I haven’t known you long, but I really really want to get to know you even better.”

  Nothing.

  “Sophie?”

  Still nothing.

  “Sophie? Get away from the door.” And with that, using my good leg, I kick down the door.

  Sophie stands shocked and silent in the mi
ddle of the room, pausing mid-movement from packing her suitcase.

  “Please don’t go,” I ask her. “Not because of football or my injury or your job. Please stay because you like me. Just me. Nicky Chase. Not the ball player, but the person.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she says hesitantly, and her eyes are so hurt. I feel like shit because I’ve done that to her.

  “I do though,” I insist. “And I want to know you better. You’re an amazing person, Soph. Let me know the rest of you. Please. Stay.”

  “I might step away from your case,” she warns me. “It’s still early enough that they could get someone else, someone who is unbiased.”

  “Do that,” I say immediately. “If that is what it takes for you to understand that I want you for you, then do that. Do it right now. Call your boss.”

  I hold out my phone.

  “Call him right now. Just stay here with me.”

  “People don’t live with each other from the very beginning like this,” she says, and she’s still uncertain. I roll my eyes.

  “We make our own rules, Sophie. We do what we want. And I want to be with you. Right now. Tomorrow. The day after that.”

  She’s silent, but I can see she’s actually considering it.

  “Stay here with me. You can help me with my knee, and we’ll have someone else do the assessment. It’ll just be you and me, Sophie. You and me. We’ll start over, and get to know each other without your job hanging over us. Please.”

  “You’d really do that?” her eyes are wide, hopeful.

  “Hell, yeah. I’d do more than that, if that’s what it took.”

  “You’re really not just using me?”

  She’s in such disbelief.

  “Whoever made you doubt your own self-worth like you do, I’d like to punch them in the face,” I announce. She almost smiles.

  “Ok,” she agrees suddenly, quietly. “I’ll stay.”

  “You’ll stay?”

  “Yeah. But on one condition.”

  “Anything.”

  “I get to call you Nic. Because no one else does.”

  “Done,” I agree immediately. “I’m your Nic.”

  She grins beatifically.

  I reach for her, and she folds into my arms, her own wrapping around my waist.

  “I’m not like everyone else to you?” she asks, and her voice is small against my chest.

  “Hell, no. You’re my little Italian spitfire.”

  I feel her smile.

  “And I want to make love to you now, and then fuck you hard tonight.”

  She smiles again.

  “You already know what I like.”

  “You bet your pretty little ass, I do.”

  So I show her.

  I show her every little thing that she likes.

  Even some things she didn’t know she would like.

  I’m generous that way.

  15

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sophie

  “That was the fastest six weeks of my life,” Nic tells me as he finished up PT today. He’s gotten so good at it, his knee has gotten so strong.

  “I told you it would be that way,” I remind him. “You just needed to put your mind to it.”

  “He put his mind to something,” Shorty pipes up from the corner chair, where he’s been answering emails on his phone. I roll my eyes at him. He and I patched up our differences a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t hold his asshole ways against him. He didn’t mean anything by them.

  But he knows… one little toe out of line again, and he’ll answer directly to me.

  I truly think I scare him.

  “The independent physical therapist is going to be here in ten minutes,” he reminds us. “For the assessment. I don’t want to stress you out, Nicky, but this is going to determine the rest of your professional life.”

  Nic rolls his eyes, and I smile. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You’re ready. You’ve got this.”

  He nods, and drinks a bottle of water, and a few minutes later, a man comes in, with an expressionless face and a clip-board.

  “Nicky Chase?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. Nic nods, and they begin the assessment. I sit next to Shorty with my fingernails between my teeth.

  It seems to take forever, but in reality it only takes fifteen minutes before the PT scribbles notes down and finally looks up.

  “Well, Mr. Chase. Welcome back to the New Orleans Sinners. I’m going to recommend that you be off two more weeks, and then you should be good to play.”

  Nic stares at him. “That’s your recommendation?”

  The guy nods. “Yes. Can I have your autograph?”

  I want to roll my eyes, but don’t. Nic signs something for him, and when he’s gone, Nic grabs me into his arms.

  “I couldn’t have done that without you.”

  “I know,” I agree.

  “You little snot,” he grins.

  I nod. “I know.”

  “I love you,” he blurts out, and then he looks terrified and Shorty and I both stare at him.

  “What did you say, bro?” Shorty stammers, and I glare at him.

  “Stay out of this. What di you say Nic? Repeat it.”

  He still looks like a deer in the headlights, but he swallows hard and says it again.

  “I love you.”

  I smile and I feel the warmth of it all the way down to my toes.

  “I love you, too.”

  And I do.

  I can’t believe it.

  I love Nicky Chase.

  My Nic.

  He grabs my hand.

  “Let’s go out and celebrate.”

  I’m astounded again. “Out of the house?” He hasn’t been out of the house in weeks and weeks. But he nods.

  “Yeah. Out of the house. You and me.”

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Of course. I’d love to.”

  He grins and the world stops and I love Nicky Chase.

  And even better, Nicky Chase loves me.

  My Nic.

  He laughs and leads me down the hall so that he can change his clothes, and then we walk out of the house together, into the light.

  Into the reporters waiting to take his picture.

  Into the public.

  But none of it matters.

  All that matters is that he looks down at me and smiles.

  And then winks.

  Because he’s my Nic.

  The End

  16

  About the Author

  Courtney Cole is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who specializes in dark romance, and dark psychological suspense.

  She loves a good twisty story with a happy ending.

  She currently lives in Florida, where she writes beneath palm trees. To learn more about her, visit www.courtneycolewrites.com

  If you’d like to read full-length novels by Courtney, check these out:

  The Nocte Trilogy:

  Nocte, Verum, Lux

  The Nocte Trilogy is a heart-wrenching, soul-twisting drop down a rabbit-hole, a tale of love, illusion, and loss.

  The darkness is coming.

  The darkness is coming.

  The darkness is coming.

  Are you scared?

  ***

  Dear Reader,

  I once considered not writing this story. It was too dark, too twisted, too much, too, too, too.

  Obviously, I changed my mind. But I re-wrote it in four different ways first, trying to make it different, more easily palatable, softer.

  It didn’t work.

  So I went back to my original idea, the idea that I loved. The idea that I dreamed about and lived and breathed until it was done the way I wanted it, the way it has to be.

  I know you’re capable of reading it. I know you’re capable of putting yourselves back together again when it’s all over. I have faith in you.

  Is this story dark?

  Yes.

  It is twisted?

  At times.


  Will it slap you in the face?

  Absolutely.

  Will it have you flipping the pages, trying to figure it out, trying to get to the climax, trying to breathe?

  God, I hope so.

  I wrote this story the way it needed to be written. I couldn’t sugarcoat it. I couldn’t water it down. It is this way because the story demands it.

  I’m not sorry.

  * * *

  The Beautifully Broken Series:

  If You Stay, If You Leave, Before We Fall, Until We Fly

  Because we’re all a little broken, aren’t we?

 

 

 


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