“I got into some trouble a few years back,” he said. Then he clarified, “I bet on a couple of games.”
“I would think that would be against the rules,” she said.
“Oh, it is,” Jared huffed out a humorless laugh. “But rules aren’t always followed. Sabers upper management decided not to report me to the league if I agreed never to gamble again.”
“You were lucky.”
“I was damn lucky.” He nodded. “I miss the excitement of waiting for a bet to pay off, but it’s not worth losing my career. I’ve found other ways to create the adrenaline rush.”
“Really?” she asked, snuggling against what had turned into a full-blown erection.
“Oh, yeah,” Jared said. He shifted her around and drew her more firmly onto his lap, hooking an arm under each knee so that she straddled him.
“Jared,” Chyna gasped. “What are you doing?”
“Wait a second.” He clutched her waist. “I’ll show you.”
He took her hard and fast, plunging high and deep, bringing her to a swift and shattering orgasm. After the quickest, most erotic shower of their lives, Jared settled back into the buttery soft chair and pulled Chyna back onto his lap. Against his wishes, they were both wearing clothes, though the sight of her in his T-shirt and boxer shorts was almost as much of a turn-on as seeing her naked. Almost.
“So, when do the Sabers get to choose?” she asked, reaching over and grabbing a handful of popcorn she’d popped from the bowl. She stretched her hand over her shoulder to feed him a few pieces of popcorn, and Jared realized he could live in this moment for the rest of his life.
Never in all the time he and Samantha had been together had he felt so at peace just being. In only a few short weeks, he and Chyna had found a level of comfort that he’d never experienced with any other woman, even one he’d given ten years of his life to.
“The Sabers have the twenty-sixth spot.”
“Why so late?”
“That’s the way the draft works,” he answered with a shrug. “Your positioning is based on your previous season record. The team with the worst record picks first, and the Super Bowl champs pick last. Unless a team has traded their draft pick, either to get a player on another team’s squad or to move farther up in the draft.”
Which is what everyone had speculated the Sabers would do in order to get a new quarterback, but Jared had yet to hear insider information on how upper management would proceed in today’s draft. He’d tried to pull some info out of Torrian, but his friend wasn’t talking.
They sat through the first five draft picks, which were all as predicted by the dozens of mock drafts posed by football analysts. Seeing the excitement on the young players’ faces brought back memories of his own draft day. It was pure bliss for those picked early, but could be agony for the players waiting in the green room for their names to be called.
Watching the clock tick down the five minutes the Seattle Seahawks had to make their selection, Jared nuzzled the soft, pliant skin along Chyna’s jawline, breathing in her unique scent.
“How were your earlier dance classes, before you got that nasty stomach flu?” he murmured against her neck.
“They were fine,” she answered without much enthusiasm.
“You don’t sound as if they were fine.”
She shook her head, and with a deep sigh, said, “I found out today that the owners have decided to sell the school.”
“The economy?” he asked.
“That may have factored into it, but I think they’re just ready to retire. Mrs. Borne said they’re moving to New Mexico to be closer to their grandchildren.” She heaved a melancholy sigh. “My heart breaks for the girls in my class. I didn’t have a place where I could take free lessons when I was a kid. I worked like crazy, doing odd jobs to scrape up the money for dance school. I hate the thought of those girls having to do the same.”
He kissed her behind the ear. “Hopefully the next owners will keep the free lessons going.”
“I hope so. If they’re even able to sell the school, that is. It won’t be easy to find a buyer in this economic climate.”
“Maybe you should buy it,” Jared urged.
“Right,” Chyna snorted. “As my mother says, ‘I don’t have a money tree, just a fake ficus.’ And I don’t even have that. Summer ate all the leaves off the one plant I tried to keep at my apartment.” She fitted herself more securely against his chest. “I’ll just keep my thoughts positive and hope for the best. Maybe someone will see worth in it.”
Jared ran a hand up and down her arm, mentally researching the contacts he had that could look into purchasing the dance school. Probably the real estate agent who had helped to find the building they had renovated for the Red Zone.
Buying the studio was a no-brainer, despite the fact that he knew zero about owning a dance school. It wouldn’t be the first venture he’d invested in to help out family and friends. Some had turned into a huge waste of money, but others, like the karate studio he’d financially backed for one of the guys on his high school football team and the yogurt shop he’d funded for his cousin, had turned a nice profit. So far, the Red Zone looked as if it would fall into the profitable category, too.
He wasn’t looking to make any money from buying the dance school for Chyna. Just the chance to see the smile on her face when he presented it to her would be payment enough.
Damn, he’d nearly forgotten the gift he’d scored for her.
“Speaking of dancing,” Jared opened. “I heard there was some fancy dance troupe at the Met tonight.”
Chyna twisted, looking at him with guarded excitement in her eyes. “It is not just any dance troupe playing at the Met tonight. It’s the Kirov Ballet, one of the oldest and most famous Russian ballet companies, and their one-night-only performance has been sold out for months. You do not have tickets,” she stated.
Jared didn’t respond, just continued to stare at the television, his mouth tipping up in a smile.
“Jared,” she said with a warning tone.
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
Chyna’s eyes widened with pure delight. He burst out laughing at her excited squeal.
“This is amazing,” she squealed. “I’m considering this an early birthday gift.”
“You have a birthday coming up? When?”
“Next Wednesday.”
“Hmm…” He pressed a kiss to the top of her hand.
“That gives me a week and a half to figure out some way to celebrate.”
“The ballet tickets are more than enough. Really, Jared, you have no idea how much this means to me.” She rewarded him with a kiss that made him wish they were naked again. God, his body couldn’t get enough of this woman.
She twisted back around and faced the TV again, bringing both his hands around and settling them on her stomach.
“Hey.” She nudged his shoulder and pointed to the screen. “The Sabers are up next.”
The NFL commissioner made his way to the podium.
“With the twenty-sixth pick in this year’s draft, the New York Sabers select Delonte Cannon from Rutgers University.”
There was a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd at Madison Square Garden, which boasted a large number of Sabers fans. Jared hardly registered the noise. Panic struck his chest like a bolt of lightning, the instant shock rendering him speechless.
The Sabers had just used their valuable first-round draft pick to acquire a cornerback. His position.
“Is he good?” Chyna asked, oblivious to the storm that was churning in his gut.
“Yeah,” Jared murmured. “He’s good.” He tapped her on the knee and gave her back a gentle nudge. “Can you let me up? I need to go to the bathroom.”
Chyna scooted off his lap, but before he could walk away, she caught his arm. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. “You look…I don’t know…off.”
“I’m good,” Jared lied, bending down and placing a kiss on her nose. “You need me
to bring you anything?”
“Just you,” she answered, returning his kiss.
Jared headed for his bedroom, closing the door behind him as he pulled up Torrian’s phone number on his cell. Pacing the floor in front of his bed, Jared tried to wrap his head around the message the Sabers’ upper management had sent with that draft pick.
As soon as the call connected, Jared spit out in a fierce whisper, “What the hell is going on?”
“Just calm down,” Torrian urged.
“Why should I when one of my best friends didn’t bother to tell me my job was in jeopardy? You could have given me a heads-up, Wood.”
“Look, man, we shouldn’t even be discussing this. I’m already in a tough spot when it comes to still being so tight with both you and Cedric. There’s an invisible line between coaches and players that you’re not supposed to cross. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jared growled into the phone. He ran an agitated hand down his face as he continued to trek across the carpet. “I just didn’t think I’d have to compete for my own damn job,” he said.
“Your job is secure,” Torrian reasoned. “Do you really think they would replace a veteran player with your numbers with a rookie fresh out of college? This was an investment in the future of the team. Delonte Cannon is going to be a great addition to the Sabers secondary in a few seasons and you’ll be there to groom him. End of story.”
“Yeah, if that’s what you say.”
“Don’t worry about this, Jared. Just make sure you’re at the top of your game when training camp starts in a few weeks.”
“I always am,” Jared said before he hung up.
He took a moment to calm himself down. Torrian was right; the Sabers were likely just planning for the future. Jared had witnessed Delonte Cannon in action during tryout week. The kid was a natural, with the type of raw athletic ability that made him eligible to play any number of positions. They may have drafted him as a cornerback, but who knew what would happen in training camp? With those hands and that speed, Delonte could even join Torrian’s wide receivers core.
His muscles relaxed as the tension flowed out of him. It was amazing what five minutes of clear thinking could do for the body and mind.
Shoving his cell phone into the pocket of his baggy sweats, Jared headed back for the media room. On the way there, he spotted Chyna in the kitchen, leaning against the refrigerator eating a peach.
“I thought you didn’t need anything but me?” Jared said, sauntering over to her and gliding his palms over her hips.
“Well, you were taking too long. Besides, I don’t think you have anything that can top this peach. It is divine,” she said, biting into the fruit’s ripe flesh. A droplet of juice clung to her lip, like an engraved invitation for his tongue.
“Hmm…” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in direct contact with his hardening body. He lowered his head. “Let’s see if I can prove you wrong.”
Chyna brushed her fingers across the soft fabric of Jared’s tuxedo as they walked arm in arm to their box seats at the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center. She was having a hard time controlling her emotions. She’d been to the famed opera house only one time, back when she was a little girl and Liani’s father had surprised them both with tickets to a performance of The Nutcracker. The sheer opulence was overwhelming enough, but when she thought of all the great performers who had graced this stage…it was enough to make any girl who’d ever had dreams of the doing the same a little emotional.
“Right this way,” the usher instructed, his hand gesturing to the closed door of one of the Grand Tier private boxes. How Jared had managed to get these seats was beyond her.
Jared motioned for her to go in ahead of him. Chyna stepped forward and let out a short gasp. There was a small round table with a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver wine bucket. On a platter next to it lay an array of cheeses and fruit, along with a single red rose.
Chyna turned to Jared and grabbed his face between her hands, pulling him to her and crushing her lips to his.
“Thank you,” she said. “This is the best present I’ve ever received.”
They took their seats and Jared poured them both glasses of champagne. Chyna’s eyes roamed the opera house, trying to see as much as possible before the lights were dimmed at the start of the performance. As she peeked around the privacy partition that partially shielded their box, she noticed something.
“The other boxes on this level have at least six people. How did we get a box for two?” she asked. Jared flashed her a quick, almost guilty look, and comprehension settled in. “You bought out the entire box?” she asked.
Chyna didn’t want to even imagine how much one ticket in the nosebleed section cost for a sold-out, one-night-only performance of the Kirov Ballet. An entire box on the Grand Tier level had to have cost a small fortune.
“You better not mention money,” Jared said in a warning tone. He leaned over and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Whatever the cost, it was worth it to have you all to myself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Now, I want you to sit down and enjoy the performance.”
He turned her around and removed the black shawl from her shoulders. Chyna heard his swift intake of breath and smiled. She’d known exactly what his reaction would be when she’d chosen this particular dress. Jared didn’t disappoint.
“You are killing me, woman,” he said.
The silky black dress looked perfectly innocent from the front, clinging delicately to her curves and stopping just above her knees. The back told a different story. It dipped incredibly low, leaving her completely bare down to the small of her back.
“I take it you like the dress?”
“Not as much as I’m going to like taking it off you tonight,” he answered. “How long is this damn ballet supposed to last?”
“Don’t you dare rush this.” Chyna laughed. “I want to enjoy every minute of it.”
The lights in the opera house blinked several times, indicating that patrons were to take their seats for the start of the performance.
Jared gestured for her to sit as the lights in the opera house dimmed and those facing the stage brightened. He pulled his chair so close that their thighs touched.
He leaned over, and with his warm breath fanning her neck, whispered softly, “I hope this turns out to be the best night of your life.”
Chyna looked him in the eyes and said, “It already is.”
Jared could think of a million things he’d rather do than sit through a ballet, but he wouldn’t trade this night for anything. Watching Chyna as she looked on in complete rapture was worth every penny he’d spent—and damn, had he spent a lot of those to score this box—and every minute he had to endure stuffed in this uncomfortable tuxedo.
She had been captivated from the moment the performers first flitted across the stage, emitting tiny gasps with every twirl of the ballerinas. Jared had no doubt in his mind that her passion for dance rivaled what he felt for football. It was in her blood, in her very soul. He knew the feeling. He was starting to feel it for something else. Chyna.
The realization caused instant panic to grip his chest, but Jared quelled it. He wouldn’t allow his fear of being hurt again get in the way of loving another woman, especially one as special at Chyna.
The gold curtains descended as intermission began, and Chyna finally turned her attention away from the stage. The pure joy on her face was inspiring. She looked as if he’d given her the world by bringing her here.
Her chest rose with a deep, contented sigh. “Isn’t it just marvelous?”
“The best.” Jared nodded as if he’d paid attention to anything happening on the stage. His entire focus had centered on Chyna, relishing her enjoyment.
Chyna proceeded to spend the next ten minutes telling him the story behind the ballet. Jared couldn’t care less about Prince Ivan or the magical bird he captured, but Chyna’s enthusiasm was infectious.
The excitement she exuded gave him a pretty good idea. Jared used it to his advantage. Pulling her onto his lap, he settled her bare back to his chest and pressed a kiss onto the fragrant, smooth skin between her shoulder blades.
“You can show me how grateful you are later,” he said.
She rubbed her backside against him, snuggling more firmly onto his lap. “That’s a promise,” she said.
Jared sucked in a swift breath as need raced through him. This ballet couldn’t end fast enough.
Mercifully, the lights dimmed. Music poured from the orchestra as the performers returned, and Chyna was once again enraptured. Jared barely registered the dancer floating across the stage. He couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the woman in his arms.
His body was a slave to the sensations overwhelming him as Chyna remained in his lap, her firm, round backside nestled against his rapidly hardening shaft. Jared ran his palms along her thighs, sliding his hands underneath the hem of her silky dress.
“Jared,” Chyna whispered. “What are you doing?”
He would show her better than he could tell her. Moving quickly to the whisper of lace covering her delectable mound, he hooked a finger around the thin strip of fabric and pushed it to the side. Lifting her slightly with one hand, Jared used the other to free himself from the confines of his tuxedo pants. With one deft, swift move, he shifted her a few inches to the right and entered, impaling her with his rock-hard erection.
“Oh, God,” Chyna gasped, her narrow, wet passage clutching around him. For several seconds Jared held her there, letting their bodies get acquainted with their position. Then with even, unhurried strokes, he guided her down his stiff arousal, concentrating on every nuance of her tight, slick body cloaking him as she rose up and down the length of his cock.
He was aware of the people in boxes on either side of them. The thought of being overheard caused a slight thrill to race down his spine. He’d never made love in public before, where there was a chance of getting caught. It made the pleasure even more intense.
Field of Pleasure Page 14