by Lane Hart
“Oh my God,” Roxy mumbles softly, the least favorable way possible that those words can ever be spoken. The translation of which is, What the fuck did we just do?
Yep, less than five seconds later she’s peeling herself off my sweaty chest and standing up quickly to pull her clothes back on. Her face is flushed, loose pieces of her wet hair falling down from her topknot, her eyes wide in horror. And I don’t think she’s ever been more gorgeous.
“That was…stupid,” she says before she slumps down on the foot of the mattress with her face buried in her hands.
Wow. She didn’t waste any time going into full regret mode.
“No, please don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel,” I grumble sarcastically as I sit up and pull my pants and boxer briefs back up over my hips.
“What were we thinking?” she mutters.
“That it would feel really good to have your pussy slamming down on my cock?” I offer. “And what do you know; it was a perfect fit, like they were made for each other.”
“Kohen!” she yells, finally looking up at me indignantly.
“We fucked. It’s no big deal, Roxy,” I tell her even if that’s only mostly true.
“Why didn’t you use a condom?” she hisses at me, making my jaw drop open in disbelief. Now she’s gonna try and pin that shit on me?
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to put a rubber on before I came up to your room to check on you? Because you really didn’t give me time to hop back on the elevator. I mean, I’m not complaining, but you literally went from zero to fucking in less than sixty seconds.”
“Look, I’m on the pill and have never done…that before,” she says, her hand gesturing to where I’m still sitting on the floor.
“You’ve never had floor sex before?” I ask just because I like flustering her. She’s a knockout who I’m certain has been with plenty of men, so I’m not sure why she’s acting all shy and inexperienced. It’s cute.
“Just tell me you’re clean, asshole,” Roxy huffs in exasperation.
“If I weren’t, do you think now would be the ideal time to bring that shit up?” I ask.
Reaching behind her, Roxy grabs a hotel pillow and chucks it at me as she starts to laugh. And just like that, the crisis is thankfully averted.
Using the wall to pull my gimpy self up off the floor, I hop on one leg the three feet distance to the bed and tackle Roxy down flat to the mattress with me.
“Don’t freak out,” I tell her when her face is inches from mine. “I came to see how you were doing and cheer you up. I didn’t plan on feeling you up, but did it help?”
“Yes, although, it could’ve lasted a little longer,” she says with a grin.
“God, you’re a ballbuster! You didn’t even let me work my way up with foreplay before you started riding me.”
Covering my lips with hers, she makes my exasperation disappear with a single stroke of her tongue against mine. There’s also relief that since she’s kissing me after freaking out that maybe she wants a repeat, that it wasn’t just a one and done. At least that’s what I was hoping before she suddenly pulls away.
“Aren’t you worried, you know, about someone finding out?” she asks, searching my eyes while nervously biting her bottom lip.
“Who?” I ask, the mixture of lust and tingling, happy endorphins still making my thought process slow. “The media? How would they find out we fucked on your hotel floor?”
“No, I meant the team. You know, because you signed the addendum and all…” She looks at me expectantly, and I don’t even consider lying to her.
“Oh, so, um, about that... Well, believe it or not, I never signed a copy.”
“How…I mean, how is that possible?” she asks with cute creases stretching across her forehead. “I thought everyone had to turn them in at training camp. That’s what management told me when the whole Dane shitstorm went down.”
“Funny story,” I start. “We were the last ones to training camp, so they had run out of forms and were supposed to be getting me one but never did. I don’t know if it was because I’m on the injured reserve list for now or what…”
For some reason, Roxy doesn’t seem nearly as amused as I am about the very convenient little oversight. In fact, she pulls away from me before I can protest; and then she’s on her feet, pacing in front of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” I sit up and ask since I’m fucking clueless. “Isn’t this a good thing, seeing as how we would have just violated the hell out of it?”
“For you maybe,” she mutters before she packs up her things as I watch in stunned disbelief. While I may have never intended to sleep with Roxy when I came to check on her, it happened. What I don’t understand is why she’s pissed or upset with me for not signing a piece of paper when she clearly wanted me. Words fail me, and then I’m out of time when Roxy opens the door and walks out of the hotel room without a backward glance.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Roxy
What the hell did I just do?
One minute I’m sulking alone in my room embarrassed that I let my team down, and the next I was naked, unable to get Kohen inside of me fast enough.
For the past six years I can count on one hand how many men I’ve had sex with, and without a thought I fucked him. On the floor. In a hotel room. A room in which the walls felt like they were closing in on me and Kohen’s arms around my waist were smothering me.
After easing out of his grip, I gathered my things and left. Now I’m trying to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do. Which is becoming an all-too-familiar theme for my life lately.
The plane home doesn’t leave until noon tomorrow, but there’s no way I’m gonna be able to stay here, in the hotel or that room. I don’t want to even be in this town right now. My mind’s racing a mile a minute, and I need time to just think.
That’s why I decide to rent a car and drive home. All thirteen hours. I’ll pull over and sleep at a hotel when I get about halfway, but right now I need to be doing something, anything.
After I plug Wilmington into my phone’s GPS, I follow the directions to the highway. From there, it’s nothing but the dark, empty road in front of me. Well, doesn’t that feel symbolic of my life?
Jeez, why did I have to go and ruin everything by sleeping with Kohen? The first thing I need to do when I get back to Wilmington is find somewhere else to stay. Being in Kohen’s house will only make things more complicated.
What we did…it can’t happen again. Not that I don’t want it to. While it was short, it was…incredible. The pleasure I felt with him inside me was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Everything else, all the worry and disappointment disappeared.
My body reacted to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. That must be what sex for normal people is like --- an urge that they carry through with. In the past, for me, it’s just usually been Why the hell not? after a few dates since I know guys expect it.
Stupidly, I didn’t even think about needing protection and had sex without a condom. The football league checks all the players for everything under the sun, even STDs, so I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything to worry about there with Kohen. The problem is I didn’t even stop to think about it before I jerked his pants down and sank down on his cock.
Just the thought of being with him is enough to cause a pulsing between my legs. My body’s already yearning to have him inside me again despite the chaos of my mind. This is precisely the reason why I shouldn’t be sharing the same living space with him.
So why exactly did I get so upset when I found out he hadn’t signed the same no contact agreement as the rest of the team? I’m not entirely sure. Maybe because I thought that if he had something to lose, like his contract, he would be less inclined to tell anyone, especially our teammates, that we slept together. Crazy, I know, but trust is earned and all that. How do I know for sure that he won’t run his mouth? I don’t. And that is the problem. Trusting him will only end badly. Sleepin
g with him is bound to end badly. I knew that, and yet I caved to the stupid desire.
I crashed and burned on the field when my team needed me the most, which is depressing as hell. And then Kohen was there, worried about me and being nice…
That should’ve been my first warning. When it comes to Kohen and me, we’re rarely ever nice to each other.
Now, there’s only one thing to do. I’ll find an apartment in Wilmington, and I’ll get Kohen to sign the contract addendum. That way, I won’t have to worry about anything else happening between us. It sucks, and I hate it; but at the same time, I can’t afford to be distracted when the whole country is watching, waiting for me to fail.
Well, that clarity took all of fifteen minutes. Now, what am I gonna do for the next twelve hours and forty-five minutes?
“I’m so sorry, Miss Benson, but you were not approved for an apartment,” the young woman with her brown hair slicked back in a tight chignon tells me as I blink at her from across her desk.
“What do you mean I wasn’t approved?” I ask, trying not to get snippy. “I brought in my paystub. As you can see, I’ll easily be able to pay rent based on what they pay me, you know, as a professional football player for the Wildcats.”
“Yes, but we ran your credit, and since you don’t have an employment history of more than six months or any sort of credit history, no credit cards or loans you’ve paid back, we can’t lease you an apartment. Do you have someone who can come in and co-sign for you?” she asks.
“My dad’s in Tennessee, so I’m not sure when he could come in…”
“That’s too bad. But good luck with the season,” she says, cutting me off and getting up from behind her desk to show me out the door. Just like that and I’m no longer being wooed as a potential customer, but I’m being shooed.
Fuck.
Since I’m making bank now, I thought finding a place to live would be easy. I give them money for rent, and they let me live there. Apparently, that’s not how it works. I have to have a job history. While I was in college, I had a football scholarship, and it paid the bills so I wouldn’t have to juggle work and studying too.
Annoyed, I do the only thing I can. I get into my Jeep and head back to Kohen’s. There’s no point in going by another apartment complex since they’re all probably gonna tell me the same thing. I guess that means my only options are finding a shady place to live from the classifieds that doesn’t require a credit check or…staying with Kohen. At least until my dad comes down and can sign a rental agreement for me.
It’s already dark when I finally take the turn for the marina because I spent hours after practice being shown around an apartment complex and filling out paperwork. Then it took them all of two seconds to kick me out.
For some reason, the marina parking lot is slammed full tonight, so I end up several rows back from my usual spot up front. Throwing my purse over my shoulder, I make my way back to the dock, and that’s when I realize exactly what’s going on.
Apparently, Kohen is throwing a party.
Even though we haven’t spoken except when absolutely necessary at practice the last two days, he could’ve asked me before inviting people over since I live here too. At least for the time being.
The thumping bass from the stereo is so loud I can hear it before I see all the people standing on the deck, some splashing around, swimming below in the marina despite the signs saying not to do that. It doesn’t take long to realize that the majority of the guests are women. Pretty ones in skimpy bikinis.
Kohen and I are gonna have words.
Although, this is his boat. Logically, I know he should be able to have a party whenever he wants without my permission, so why am I so damn angry?
“Excuse me,” I say to a group of bottle blondes so I can get through the sliding glass door that’s standing wide open. I pretend to ignore their hisses, talking shit about me as soon as I pass.
“Hey, Roxy,” Lathan calls out from the kitchen where he’s grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Hey. Have you seen Kohen?” I ask as I glance around the crowded room, recognizing some of the male faces from the team, but all the females are strangers.
“Ah, yeah, I think he’s in the hot tub,” Lathan answers, a blush coloring his cheeks, which I take to mean Kohen is currently out on the deck, soaking in bubbles surrounded by girls in bikinis.
“Oh,” I reply, not sure how else to react to that lovely piece of news other than to toss my cookies. Maybe that’s just the boat rocking more than usual with all the people moving around on it. Yeah, I’m sure it’s sea sickness and not jealousy. Why would I care if Kohen screws one or ten of the attractive young women he invited over? It’s not like I’ll ever sleep with him again.
Yesterday, I left a copy of the addendum on the kitchen counter. Kohen signed it and turned it in at practice. Therefore, we absolutely cannot mess around again. Ever. Even if I’ve wanted to crawl into his bed the last two nights or tackle him down on the field to kiss his irritating face when he yelled at me for not following through on my kicks or for taking too long to line up…
“You okay?” Lathan asks. “You look a little, um, green.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him, grabbing my own bottle of water. Resting with my back against the counter next to Lathan just because I don’t want to go hide in my room all alone, I unscrew the lid on the bottle and ask him, “So, who are all these…people?” I barely caught myself before I said sluts.
“Oh, ah, well, most are Lady Cats.”
“Pfft,” I laugh before I slap the back of my hand still clutching the bottle lid over my mouth. “Cheerleaders? Seriously? How…cliché, right?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles in agreement.
Glancing over, I realize Lathan’s eyes are downcast, studying the tops of his sneakers instead of any of the half-naked women wandering around us. “This isn’t your sort of scene, is it?” I ask him.
“No,” he answers, raising his eyes to mine. “I never even got invited to parties until I got signed with the Wildcats.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah. Ugly duckling, remember?” he says, patting his chest with a grin.
“Sure. Right,” I say, taking a sip of my water. “I don’t buy it.” Even if Lathan weren't over six feet tall and buff, he would still have his adorable baby face with stormy gray eyes and thick, sandy blond hair.
“It’s true,” he says. “Yours truly was nicknamed Porky or Pork Sausage, you know, because my last name is Savage.”
“Kids are mean,” I mutter. “And not very creative.”
“Everything they said was the truth. I was obese, like three-fifty until my senior year of college.”
“Wow,” I say in surprise. “You turned out okay, though. Playing football?”
“Yeah. I played linebacker my first three years at State. During the summer breaks, I started working out a lot. By my senior year, I was this size and playing tight end.”
“Good for you,” I tell him honestly. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re standing here, instead of talking to one of these bikini-clad floozies that are currently checking you out.”
He turns around, putting his back to the room. “I’m just busy, you know, so I don’t have time for dating. And I don’t want to lead anyone on.”
“Well, that’s…refreshing,” I say since he’s such a contradiction to the typical playboy professional athlete. “Someday you’re gonna make some girl a lucky lady.”
“That’s not fair,” he says, blowing out a breath as he looks at the ceiling. “You’re pretty and play football, so you’re not supposed to be nice too.”
I laugh before I can help myself. “Sorry. I’ll try to do better,” I tease. “Just ask Kohen. Usually, I’m a raging bitch.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kohen
A beautiful woman is, at this very moment, easing her hand up my thigh not so subtly underneath the Jacuzzi bubbles, but the Captain could care less. I blam
e my cock’s disinterest entirely on Roxy.
For the last two hours, maybe three now, I’ve been thinking about her, wondering where the hell she is. After practice, she didn’t come home like usual, which worries me.
Other than the occasionally required word here or there during practice, she’s been avoiding me since the night we slept together and she ran. I still have no idea what the fuck that was about, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
Now that I know how amazing it is to be with Roxy, I want her again. But no. She had to go and make me sign that shit saying I won’t lay a finger on her. Frustrating woman.
I stupidly thought that if I threw a party, I could spend some time with a nice girl, preferably in my bed, to get Roxy off my mind. No such luck. My cock’s staging a mutiny because of her. Janna, one of the very beautiful Lady Cats, wants me and is down to fuck, but I can’t get out of my own damn head.
“It sucks you won’t get to play in Thursday night’s first home game,” Janna says, pouting her Botox inflated lip while pressing her implants that are about to float out of her tiny, triangle top against my upper arm.
“Yeah,” I agree as her fake nails continue to creep up my board shorts toward my cock. Her long dark waves are probably extensions too. I’m not sure if there’s an inch left of her that’s authentic, unlike Roxy who is naturally gorgeous from head to toe…
Fuck.
Where the hell is she, anyway?
I have her phone number, but I didn’t want to call her up, sounding like her father. But enough is enough.
Grabbing the side of the tub, I heft myself up from the bubbles, balancing on my good foot and trying to figure out how the hell to climb out. Since I can’t step out one foot at a time, I have to sit on the edge to throw both legs over so I can put my weight down on my right one. Jon took me off the crutches, so I can walk on the left one, but I’m still supposed to avoid putting all my weight on it at first.