“You so much as lay a hand on her again,” Dad began, but he trailed off, when Quinn turned toward him. I don’t know what he saw in Quinn’s face but he must have realized he had lost this battle.
Quinn caught my chin, tilted it up toward him, and scanned my face worriedly. “Are you in pain?” he asked.
I couldn’t speak. I shook my head wordlessly.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, and scooped me up into his arms.
Quinn turned to my father, narrowing his eyes. “We’re going.” His voice was harsh.
Dad was breathing fast, and his fists were clenched with fury, but didn’t try to stop Quinn. He focused on me. “Do you really want this, Madison?” His eyes were wide and half-begging me to tell him otherwise.
I nodded. “I love him, Dad. With all my heart,” I said earnestly.
A look of utter defeat crossed my father’s face. His shoulders slumped and stepped away from the door and gestured for us to go through. “Go on. Get out,” he muttered. He didn’t sound mad any more. Just sounded exhausted and lost.
Quinn carried me out the door. When he reached the gatehouse, I said, “You can put me down now.”
“Why?” he said and carried me to his car. With one hand he opened the door, placed me inside carefully. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He turned his head toward me. “So…” he began, “You love me?”
“Yeah,” I admitted, scuffing my foot against the carpeted floor. “Sorry if this is all a bit sudden. You don’t have to say it back, or anything stupid like-”
He touched his fingers to my lips.
“It isn’t.” He shook his head. "And I want to say it back.”
My eyes widened. “You do?”
He looked deep into my eyes. “I do.”
“Since when?”
“Since you left my house and I felt as if I would die if I didn’t come here and take you back. You are a part of me, Madison. I was willing to give everything up for you. Kevin, the business I had worked all my life to build. Even my life.”
“I’ve been in love with you since I was a girl,” I confessed mistily.
“What?”
“Yup, I had the biggest, most painful crush on you. Every night before I fell asleep I used to say a little prayer for you. Please God, save him for me and don’t let him find anyone else.”
He shook his head in wonder. “Well, your prayer sure worked.”
“Why wouldn’t it? I was totally dedicated to my goal. I never missed a single night.”
He reached out and touched my cheek and I flinched without thinking. Instantly, he yanked his hand back as if I had burned him.
“Oh shit, have I hurt you?” He stared at me in horror.
“I’ll be okay,” I said waving my hand.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered harshly, almost as if he blamed himself.
“It’s okay. I’m fine. How about you?”
He shook his head. “Nothing a few kisses from your sweet lips can’t fix.”
It hurt my cheek to smile but I did. “I’m looking forward to playing nurse.”
He grinned. “I don’t want to end up in ER.”
“Or the morgue if you don’t teach that mouth of yours some manners,” I shot back.
He laughed. “You ready to go home?”
Home. To his home. Oh, wow! This was real.
I beamed and nodded. I had no idea what was going to happen next, but I knew it wouldn’t matter, nothing would, if Quinn and me were together.
Epilogue
Five Years Later
Madison
“Are you ready?” Dad called anxiously from outside the door of my old bedroom. He had been pacing back and forth outside my old room for the last fifteen minutes.
I looked into the mirror and behind me, my friends, who had flown down from England, bustled about doing last minute things. My mother was fastening a broach on to her sky-blue Chanel type box-jacket. I let my eyes leave the commotion behind me and brought my gaze back to me.
I stared at myself in wonder. My dress was dazzlingly beautiful. Long, with a sweetheart neckline. and layers and layers of silk and tulle. My face was a bit pale under the make-up but my eyes were shining. I still couldn’t believe today was here.
Quinn and I were finally going to be husband and wife.
It had been five years since we first declared our love for each other. For the first time for as long as I could remember Dad and Mum agreed on something. Quinn was bad for me, but nothing they would say would change my mind. Once I dramatically threatened to enter a convent if they didn’t allow me to be with Quinn.
Dad and Quinn parted ways. They each began their own company.
It took a long time after that for Dad to come around to the thought of us together. He refused to ask either of us about it. He would flush with anger whenever our relationship came up accidentally. Then Dad’s worst fears were realized when Quinn proposed eighteen months later. We were in bed when he casually slid a ring on my finger. “I saw that fucking waiter staring at you yesterday. There. Now it’s clear to all those assholes you’re taken. You’re all mine.”
The wedding had to wait until I’d finished my studies, but there it was. A diamond ring on my finger. I was betrothed. The good thing was, after Quinn had put the ring on my finger, Dad had backed down.
“So…he’s really serious?” he had asked, staring at my ring.
“He is,” I had said softly.
“You know. I never forgot this, but one night when you were eight years old, I was putting you to bed and you said, ‘Daddy, is it okay if I married Uncle Quinn?’ I thought it was funny then. Little did I know…”
I had bowed my head. “I realize it’s a lot to ask, but…we want you to be involved in the wedding.”
He had left a long pause before he replied, and I had held my breath the whole time.
“Yeah,” he had managed at last, and I could hear in his voice it had pained him to say the words. “Of course, I will. You’re my baby.”
And now, here he was, ready to give me away to the man of my dreams. He had started off quite offish about the whole thing, but he had gotten involved and interested eventually and even given Quinn his belated blessing.
I turned away from my reflection and opened the door. Oh my Dad’s face was a picture of astonishment. Dad’s jaw actually dropped.
“Jesus, Maddy,” he gasped, using the nickname he hadn’t used since I was a kid. “You look...incredible.”
“You really think so?” I asked cheekily.
He nodded slowly as if in a daze. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world,” he said softly.
“Oh, stop. You old charmer, you.”
“Oh Maddy,” he cried suddenly, his eyes welling up.
“Don’t you dare make me cry, Dad,” I said waiving both my hands at my face.
He pulled out the carefully folded handkerchief from his breast pocket, the one he was not supposed to use and dabbed it at his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and looked up at me. “So, shall we?”
“I think we shall.” I grinned.
Dad proffered his arm in my direction, and I took it.
Then he opened the door for me, and we made our way downstairs, and prepared ourselves to welcome Quinn into the family for good.
The End
Coming Soon
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copyright
Editor Teresa Banschbach
Cover Designer: Book Cover By Design
Taken By The Baller
by River Laurent
Copyright © 2017 by River Laurent
The right of River Laurent to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordanc
e with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-911608-00-4
Appreciations
My deepest gratitude and thanks to
Georgia Le Carre for her invaluable support
my editor, Teresa Banschbach,
and my proofreader, Brittany Urbaniak.
:
Chapter One
Drake
I roll my shoulders back and groan. Hell, there’s nothing better in the world than a long, hot shower after crushing it in a game like that. I towel off briskly, wrap it around my hips, and pad into the deserted locker room.
The rest of the team is probably already huddled around drinks and wings celebrating our victory. I’ll catch up with them in a minute, but I like to take an extra fifteen minutes to unwind after a game. My adrenaline pumps for ages after I leave the field, and heading out on the town with testosterone swirling around my system will only end in … well, a whole bunch of chicks to clear out from my apartment in the morning.
If there’s one thing they never tell when you sign up in high school, it’s that getting lots of women will turn from something you only fantasize about as you jack off, to something you need to actively discourage fairly often. It’s insane, the amount of attention we get.
Not that I’m complaining, of course.
I smile at my reflection in the mirror and hear a small, feminine cough from behind me. My grin grows wider. See what I mean? Glancing around, my eyebrows shoot up when my gaze falls on one fine piece of ass.
Fuck me, this woman is hot.
Maybe a couple of years younger than me. Gorgeous waist length blonde hair, but pulled back into an ugly ponytail. Makes me want to curl a fist into that glossy, thick hair while I slam my cock into her. My cock hardens at the dirty thought.
She’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a blazer that my headmistress would have been happy with, but she looks nothing like any mistress I’ve had, either in or out of the classroom. The curves of her hips are perfect. I can already see myself grabbing them tight as I pound into her. Her eyes are enormous and bright blue, but she seems to be having some trouble maintaining eye contact with me. Her eyes slide down to my tented towel and then away fast.
I lean against the locker and let out a low whistle.
She bites her lip and it makes me want to stuff my cock into her mouth.
“Can I help you, sweet pea?” I drawl, deliberately letting my eyes drift lazily across her body.
“Uh,” she begins, and I snap out of my reverie at once.
Her voice is high-pitched, almost panicked, like she’s been caught with her greedy little hands in the cookie jar. We’ve had fans sneak back in here before, and they are almost always fainting with excitement. Something else is going on here, something I can’t put my finger on, yet. I wonder if one of the guys sent her here as a present for me. I did put in the winning score. Thanks, guys, excellent choice.
“How did you get in here?” I ask softly.
She gulps, brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ears, and finally makes eye contact. Whoa! My heart leaps up into my throat as those baby-blue eyes sizzle into mine. They are wide and bright and rimmed with long lashes. An image of her on her knees in front of me sucking my cock while looking up at me with those baby doll eyes jumps, unbidden, into my head. I kick it out. I need to back down, way down and focus on the interesting dynamics in front of me. This woman is not a gift from my teammates, she’s not a dizzy fan, and quite obviously has no right to be here either.
I straighten to my full six feet four inches of lean muscle.
“I’m … uh … I told them I was a journalist. The guys outside, I mean,” she explains nervously, tripping over her words in her haste. “I’m not, obviously. I lied. I just need to ask you something very important.”
“Wait, you told them you were a journalist, and they just let you through? Without any ID?” This was sounding more and more like a setup, but one I found deliciously entertaining.
She swallows hard and tries to smile.
That trembling smile does something to my insides. It’s been a long time since I wanted to fuck a chick this much. I shake my head and pretend to be angry. “We need better fucking security around here.”
“It not their fault. I have an honest face,” she blurts, sounding more and more desperate.
“Or maybe you let them take turns?”
Her eyes flash, but her voice is even. “Look. I used a fake ID, okay.”
“No shit.” I smile at her.
She crosses her arms across her chest defensively, her ponytail bobbing sexily as she does so. “I just need to ask you something,” she repeats, as though she has carefully practiced what she is going to say and doesn’t really know how to deal with any deviations.
“What’s your name?” I ask, taking a step towards her, and closing the gap between us. She holds her ground, though she takes a sharp, involuntary breath.
“Reese. Reese Westwood,” she replies.
“Uh-huh,” I cock my head to the side. “Reese.” The name rolls off my tongue. “So, you lied to get in here to see me. Why?”
“To talk to you. What else?” she responds, her voice a tiny bit sarcastic. So, the pretty doll had a bit of attitude, did she?
“Oh, I could think of a few good reasons.”
She blushes bright red. Her flawless skin turns rosy. Damn! I must be getting jaded. I don’t think I’ve seen a girl blush like this since … I can’t remember the last time. Well, I guess I can give her five minutes.
“Okay then,” I shrug. “What is it you need to ask me?”
She takes a deep breath, balls her hands into fists at her sides, and lets the words tumble out of her mouth in one great big confused jumble.
“My stepmother, she’s dying,” she begins. “And she sent me here to get you because … because … when she was a teenager, she got pregnant, and the baby she had was you, but she was forced to give you up.”
My head jerks back and my palms come up. “Whoa. Back up, back up, sweetheart. I don’t think you got the right guy here.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t have the wrong guy. You’re her son and she just wants to see you again before she … before she goes. She wants to die in peace in the knowledge that you guys have, at least, met, and you don’t hate her. That’s … that’s all she wants.”
“That’s all?” I snorted at the ridiculousness of what she was saying.
For one thing, I know I’m not adopted. I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old. Why would my parents be keeping that from me? My parents and I have a very open and loving relationship, and I know they would have, at some point down the line, mentioned picking me up from some teenage girl when I was a baby.
“You have to believe me,” she cries. “I’m not lying and neither is your mother. She’s a good person. A really good person. At least just meet her. Just once.”
Scowling, I turn towards my locker. I have to, because looking at her stops me from thinking. For one minute, I need to think with my brain and not my dick. What is immediately clear when I’m not looking at her luscious curves and lying eyes is that she must be part of a scam. When you exist in the public eye the way that I do, you learn fast to tell the difference between heartfelt pleas from fans, and cunning con-women trying to count your money for you.
Of course, they’d send along a smokin’ chick to try and seduce me into believing their shit story. I get that and quite frankly, they chose one hell of a candidate. Not only is she a fantastic
actress, playing the part of a super innocent damsel in distress to perfection, she’s already got me all twisted up in knots with lust.
I’m quite a good judge of character and I must say there is something sincere about her. Some parts of the scam could be true. Maybe her stepmother really is sick, and she needs the money for her. The way she looks, I’d have been happy to foot her medical bills if they were real, but using this stupid and callous method, one that involves my parents is a bit much. That’s just low. She just lost any sympathy I might have had for her predicament.
I turn back around, my face completely expressionless. She is staring at me with a pleading look. I stare at her in astonishment. What is it about this woman? Even knowing that she is a con artist, all I want to do is slam her up against the lockers and fuck her until she screams my name.
“So, you want me to go meet my biological mother … who is dying?”
She flinches at my deadpan delivery, and for some crazy reason, I feel a small stab of sympathy for her.
“She is your biological mother,” she insists fiercely.
“So you say,” I retort.
“She only wants to look you in the face. Just once. Please,” she pleads.
It’s getting harder and harder to resist her. She seems so sincere. “I get that, but what’s in it for me?”
We stare at each other. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but my mind is churning with dirty, filthy thoughts.
“Please. I want to help my stepmother. I’d do anything for her,” she blurts out.
My cock actually jerks at that. “Anything?” I consider the word, as it it hangs in the air between us like a promise. I cock an eyebrow at her, and ideas began to take shape in my brain.
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