Scored

by Valentine, Marquita

  “Good to know.” I’m fairly certain Dallas won’t allow me not to notice him marking my skin. Since I’ve never had someone do it, and I’m not sure if he was even serious or just talking dirty, I’m open to … learning more.

  Layton lays her head on my shoulder. “I really am happy for you. My bestie deserves a good man.”

  I squeeze her hand. “So does mine.”

  I hope to God Joe’s not cheating on her and not just because Aiden wants a piece of her if he is.

  * * *

  “Thirty-seven.”

  Thrust.

  “Forty-two”

  Another thrust. I’m dying. I’m so dying with pleasure.

  “Eight-nine.”

  “So close, baby. Who else?” Dallas asks as he continues to use his cock to reward me for paying attention to the game. “One more. That’s it.”

  I rack my brain, but the things he’s doing to me make me so very stupid. “Sixty-nine?”

  He grunts. “Close enough.” He pulls out and rips off his condom, but instead of coming on my chest like he promised, he dives between my legs, feasting on me like I’m his reward for playing so well tonight. He slips a finger in my ass and another in my pussy. Before I can take another breath, he latches onto my clit and sucks.

  I scream his name, my hips bucking and my fingers digging into his head to hold on for dear life. When I focus on him, he’s looking at me with a fierceness in his eyes.

  “Push your tits together.”

  I comply and he lunges forward, stroking his cock until he groans and his warm come splashes on my breasts.

  “Damn, that’s hot.” He smirks a little and cleans me up. Like before, he was prepared and kept a towel on the bed. “Next time, I’ll buy you real jewelry.”

  “Could you make it real pearls? Because I don’t want to have to explain what you really did to me tonight to Layton when she asks to see my new pearl necklace.”

  He freezes, then throws his head back and laughs. “You told her what I had planned tonight?”

  “It kind of came out, and I was looking forward to trying something new.”

  His eyes grow hooded. “I’m the first to mark you.”

  “This body is… was semen free.”

  “Now it’s all mine.”

  I crook my finger at him. “Come here, caveman.”

  He lays down beside me. “I missed you.”

  “Don’t go to so many away games.” I kiss him, lingering over his mouth because I love the way it feels moving with mine. “My bed and yours gets so lonely when we’re not in it together.”

  “You could always travel and meet me.”

  “Nope. Not happening.”

  His eyes flash with annoyance. “You could wait for me in my room or I could come to you.”

  “I have to be careful enough when I drive here. No way will I take a chance in a city I don’t know.”

  “You sure are stubborn.”

  “I don’t want to be part of your doll world.”

  His mouth twists. “Don’t recall asking you to be.”

  “And I don’t… ugh. I don’t want to fight, especially after sex.”

  “Not my favorite thing to do after sex either.”

  I push him back and straddle his lap. His eyes go right to my boobs while his hands come to rest on my hips. “Can you give me more time? I’m not ready to tell everyone.”

  “I said I’d play by your rules,” he says roughly.

  “You aren’t happy with them.”

  “It’s kinda hard to turn down women without a good explanation.”

  I blink twice. “You had to turn down women last night?”

  “I turn down women all the time, bright eyes. However, it would be nice to offer up a good reason for my rejection.”

  “‘No, but thank you’ isn’t enough?”

  He eyes me. “It’s not kind, and a lot of ladies don’t take it the right way. They get their feelings hurt.”

  “Not to be ugly, but I don’t care about their feelings.”

  “I’m not asking you to.” He lets go of my hip and scrubs his face. “But I am asking you to consider what they say about me on social media when I do turn them down. Rumors start.”

  “What kind of rumors?” I whisper.

  “That I’m gay. That I’m dating the celebrity it-girl of the day. That I can’t perform.” He exhales. “The first two don’t bother me. Neither are insults in my view, but the last one… the last one chaps my ass because it always comes back to the field.”

  Well, crap. I can’t get mad at him for that. It’s his career that could be affected. Finley told me enough times that it’s not always what is said, but what’s implied.

  Taking a chance, I press my breasts against his mouthwatering chest. “Then tell them the truth. That you are dating someone, but she values her privacy. And if push comes to shove, you can say my name is Amelia—that’s my middle name.”

  “You’d do that for me?” He shakes his head in amazement. “Do I actually mean that much to you that you’re willing to go a little public?”

  I’m not in love with him. I’m so not, but this feels a lot like what someone in love would do. I can’t admit that, though. I don’t even know if it’s true or it’s the fact that Dallas isn’t a lying, cheating asshole that makes him entirely loveable.

  But not the real deal.

  Not true love.

  We’re not Elizabeth and Darcy. I’m not prideful, and he’s not prejudiced against me.

  I run my fingers across his stubble-roughened jaw. “I’d do almost anything for my boyfriend.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Dallas

  My brother is floating in the heated pool in my backyard when I walk outside. Catherine is swimming with him while a home-care nurse keeps a watchful eye.

  Since I just got out of the shower and spent most of the day running drills and new plays, I sit my ass down in the nearest chair and stretch out my legs, then check my texts.

  Northing from Paige.

  Am I disappointed? Fuck, yes.

  Will I text her to see what’s up? Fuck yes to that, too.

  Me: How’s your day going?

  “If you want to take a break, I’ll keep watch,” I tell Gus after I tap send. “Food service just delivered so help yourself.”

  He nods. “Thanks. I won’t be long.” After he lets Catherine and Mikey know what he’s doing, he goes inside.

  “Dallas,” Catherine shouts, waving to me. “Thanks for letting us use your pool.”

  “Until your heater gets fixed, consider my pool your pool.”

  Catherine’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “You’re such a good little brother.”

  “Mikey, tell your wife to stop flirting with me.”

  Catherine sticks out her tongue.

  “No. Way.” He shakes his head, sending his dark, wet hair flying back from his face. “I can’t. Control her.”

  “Whipped.” I flick my wrist and make a cracking sound. “So whipped, dude.”

  “Where’s your new girlfriend?” Catherine asks, grinning at Mikey. He grins, too. Swear to God it’s always been like this with them, even before Mikey’s accident. Things got dark for a while afterward, but Catherine pulled him through. She’s always been the talker.

  “She’s with her best friend doing wedding stuff.”

  Their faces turn into twin looks of confusion.

  “You’re. Engaged?” Mikey rasps.

  “No, her best friend is getting married. Paige is the maid of honor.”

  “Are you in the wedding, too?” Catherine asks.

  “I don’t know the bride or groom well enough, but I’m considering stepping in for the best man.” I swipe at my jaw. “Paige has a list that requires her to make out with him.”

  Catherine starts laughing and Mikey does as well, only his damaged vocal chords make it sound more like a smoker’s cough.

  “You love her,” Catherine says in a singsong voice, swimming to the edge of t
he pool and pulling Mikey along with her. “You want to marry her.”

  “She says she’s not the marrying kind right now.”

  Mikey mumbles something that sounds a lot like pussy under his breath.

  “Hey, if I were in love with her, I’d marry her tomorrow. Fly everyone back to Wyandotte and get hitched at St. Michaels. Father Bernard would officiate.”

  “Wow, Dallas. That’s a lot of detail.” Catherine nudges Mikey. “Are you ready to get out?”

  “Y-yes.”

  I jump up from my seat, toss my phone on the nearby table, and jog over to the zero-entry side just in case Catherine needs help getting him back into his wheelchair. It’s already half submerged, brakes locked. The power chair is equipped with a coating on the metal parts, so it won’t rust, and it’s perfectly submergible.

  “I got it. I got it.” Catherine efficiently helps my brother into his chair and uses the joystick to propel them forward. “We didn’t only come over for the pool. We came over to celebrate.”

  Catherine looks so happy and Mikey looks so damned pleased that I whisper, “You guys having a baby?” It’s not impossible for that to happen since my brother banked some sperm before he had his first round of chemo, but since the accident, they’ve put babies on hold even longer.

  “No.” Mikey glares at me, rolling his good eye expertly. “I got a job.”

  “Where I work!” Catherine chirps. My sister-in-law gave up her career as a science teacher to stay at home with Mikey so she could help care for him, but after a while, it became clear she needed an outlet and time for herself. So with a little encouragement from my parents and me, Catherine got a part-time job at a local coffee shop with very understanding owners. I also hired two full-time home care nurses so she can have time for herself outside of work, too.

  “No shit?”

  “Michael will be helping bus tables,” Catherine explains proudly.

  “Nice, brother.”

  “I’ll be. Faster than y-you.”

  “Dream on,” I tell him.

  “Last g-game, knobh-head. You s-sucked.”

  “You two will be working together?” I ask as they move past me onto dry land. I follow behind them, making sure no one and nothing slips. “What’s that saying about mixing business and pleasure?”

  “Y-you. Wouldn’t know it. Football. P-player.”

  I clutch my chest. “What a burn, Mikey.”

  Catherine rolls her eyes and grabs two towels, wrapping my brother up before she starts drying off. “Actually, we’ll be working on opposite days.”

  “Smart thinking.” I attempt to help my brother, but Mikey shakes his head.

  “Like. H-her better.”

  “No problem.” I sit down again. “Do you think Gus saved us any food?”

  “We brought a cake to celebrate.”

  “Are Mom and Dad coming?” I ask. As of last month, they decided to become snowbirds and live in Florida for the winter.

  The doors slide open.

  “Where is our gainfully employed oldest son?” Dad says in his booming voice.

  “Right. H-here.”

  Mom pops out from behind him. “Boys and my angel Catherine!”

  “Hey, you two.” A genuine smile pushes up the corner of my mouth as my mom kisses each of us and my dad gives us huge hugs that still to this day make my spine crack. “When did you guys get in?”

  “About an hour ago. You know how traffic is this time of day.” Dad takes a deep breath and beams at us. “Who’s up for some brats? Steak… whatever meat is in Patrick’s freezer.”

  I almost shove my hand into the air because no one, and I mean no one, can grill like my old man. “Can Mom make some potato salad?”

  “Absolutely.” Her green eyes twinkle. “Go get started on the potatoes, Patrick.”

  I start to groan, like the little kid I turn into when they’re around, but my phone buzzes. Stepping away from everyone, I grab it and read the text from Paige.

  Paige: Been busy. Done with final wedding details (I hope). You?

  Me: Exhausting. I’m so sore, bright eyes. Need you to help me work out the kinks.

  Paige: Layton can drop me off. We’re five minutes from your neighborhood.

  That would mean she’d meet my parents. My brother, his wife, and Gus, the home-care health nurse.

  I debate on warning her or simply inviting her over to see how she reacts.

  Honesty wins out.

  Me: You’re welcome to come over. My family is here, and we’re getting ready to make dinner.

  My heart kicks against my chest while I wait for her response. Those fucking bubbles keep going and going until…

  Paige: Note to Dallas: Southern girls love to meet the parents of their boyfriends.

  “Everything okay, son?” My dad hands me a beer.

  “Actually, yeah. So there’s this girl I’ve been seeing.”

  “Not the stripper, dear.”

  “No.”

  “The dental hygienist?” There’s a hopeful tone to my dad’s voice. “She seemed nice on Facebook.”

  “Uh, no.”

  My mom snaps her fingers. “The actress from Days of Our Lives. She got the part after the two of you were in that shoot together.”

  “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “The shoot where they featured Drake’s Dolls partying on a yacht with you? I can’t believe you don’t remember that one,” my mom replies with a shake of her head. She doesn’t approve of the name, or how the women are treated in the media. She also doesn’t approve of them dating her son. Yeah, I’m taking a lot of liberty with the meaning of dating.

  “Paige is a librarian. Nice, smart girl. Not a Drake Doll. And if you could never mention that ever again, that would be tremendous,” I warn everyone, even as I curse the existence of the stupid “club”.

  Mom pats my shoulder. “I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”

  Dad nods. “Will she be here in time to tell me what meat she prefers?”

  She prefers my meat, but that’s not the kind of thing I want to share with my parents. Ever. “Should be here in a few. Her best friend, who is an event planner, is dropping her off. They were out doing wedding errands. Paige is helping because she’s the maid of honor.”

  Catherine pipes up with a, “He’s in love with her.”

  “Marry h-her,” Mikey adds, his eyes glinting with mischief.

  I point at him, then slice my hand against my neck and mouth, “Cut it out.”

  Mom’s face gets that familiar worried look, which means she’ll be on my case for days until it’s resolved to her satisfaction. It also means my parents won’t be returning to Florida anytime soon and will be staying at my house.

  “This seems a little fast. We don’t even know her or her family.”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. “For the last time, I’m not in love. I’m not getting married, and you do know her family. Finley Owens is her sister. I’m not dating a serial killer, a dental hygienist, a stripper, or an actress.”

  “Thank God for that. We almost burned down the last chapel with the amount of candles that were lit for you,” Dad says. “Speaking of which, when’s the last time you made your confession?”

  “How did this turn into a conversation about my soul?”

  “Is this the influence of the librarian?” Mom tsks, then narrows her eyes. “She’s not Catholic, is she?”

  “I didn’t think to ask.”

  Wrong answer because my mom crosses her arms and says, “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make potato salad now.”

  I press my fingers against my eyes, reminding myself that I love my parents. I love my family, and this is just par for the course with them. “Then don’t make it. Catherine can.”

  “Don’t bring me into your drama,” my sister-in-law says.

  “Hey, I was the one to support you and Mikey when you wanted to get your own place. A little potato-salad support wouldn’t hurt ya,” I remind her.r />
  “Shut. It.” Mikey moves closer, staying on Mom and Dad’s side.

  “I can’t believe you’re taking their side.” Actually, I’m cool with it. I’m fucking grateful he’s not staying on the sidelines, but is instead joining in on family drama time like he did before the accident.

  Suddenly, everyone gets really still, except for Catherine. She puts her hand over her mouth and gasps very loudly. “Is that Paige?”

  I pivot, finding Paige standing behind me looking so fine in tight black pants, heels, and a silky-looking blue shirt that I’m ready to take her to bed. Her blond hair is pulled back from her face in a classy do that can in no way, shape, or form be mistaken for a stripper.

  Paige giggles as she waves, just like on our first date together. “Hey, y’all. Dallas gave me the code and invited me over, so… if this isn’t a good time, I can get an Uber…”

  Shit. She’s nervous. I stride to her before she can leave and gently grab her wrist, bending to kiss her cheek. “Don’t go. We’re just getting started with dinner.”

  Her blue eyes roam my face. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Whatever you heard, this is just us. It’s how we do things.” I put my arm around her and all but present her like a trophy I’ve won. In a sense, I do feel like I’ve won something by convincing Paige to date me. “Guys, this is Paige Owens. That’s my dad, Michael Patrick. My mother Bridget. And my pain-in-the-ass brother Mikey and his former angel of a wife, Catherine.”

  “It’s very nice to meet everyone. Dallas has told me so many great stories about y’all that I feel like I know each one of you.”

  My mother gives Paige an appraising look. “What’s your favorite story?”

  “Are you testing her?” I glance at Paige. “You don’t have to play our game.’

  “Hush, Patrick.”

  Paige smiles. “My favorite story is the one with y’all up at the lake, playing cards, and you made everyone s’mores even though you hate them. That sounded like something my own momma would do, and I don’t think I appreciated her sacrifices until I got older. Some kids take longer than others to realize that.”

  Mom beams at her, then opens her arms wide and hugs Paige. “I’m so happy to meet you, dear, and we couldn’t be more thrilled that Patrick is dating such a beautiful, smart woman.”