Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance (Touchdowns and Tiaras Book 3)

by Sosie Frost

  I’d deleted three voice mails from Victoria this week. If we were lucky that’d be the most I’d hear from her.

  “Okay. How do I look?” I spun for the kid.

  “Still stupid.”

  “That’s good enough for me.” I shoo’ed him from my room and back to my mother who was far more supportive.

  “Oh…” She held a hand over her chest. “Gosh, how handsome you are!”

  The compliments were backhanded. She immediately wet her finger and rubbed an invisible spot on my cheek, brushed non-existent lint from my jacket, and re-did my bow-tie.

  “She called again,” Mom straightened my sleeves. I stopped her before she jiggled the pants to see if they fit right. “Maybe we should get a lawyer.”

  “Not necessary,” I said. “Victoria can’t do a damn thing.”

  “You have to think about what’s best for this family.”

  “This is what’s best. Don’t answer if she calls. She only wants money.”

  “We hope.”

  “Don’t worry.” I mused Sebastian’s hair. “I’ll take care of it. Right now, I gotta go to this gala thing.”

  “Meeting Elle there?” Mom gave me that knowing smile and wink. Christ, she’d make me fucking blush.

  “That’s the plan,” I said. “Thanks for bringing the tux over.”

  “She’ll be charmed, I’m sure.”

  Fingers crossed. I needed any break I could get.

  Elle had acted stranger than usual this week, and I didn’t think it was just her illness. Both of us were stressed at the field. I had a right to be—blown plays, coaches in my face, the upcoming exhibition game. But Elle wasn’t getting reamed out on television by Ainsley Ruport and all of Sports Nation. She kept whatever was bothering her close to her chest.

  And she wouldn’t tell me.

  Or couldn’t. Whatever got her sick settled in her throat. She’d squeaked the whole damn practice through a bad case of laryngitis.

  All the more reason to make sure she had fun tonight.

  Jack’s formal gala was a charity event for his personal foundation which helped children suffering from leukemia. Apparently, he’d lost his little brother to the disease a few years ago. He took the charity seriously, but he was Jack Carson, and he never missed an opportunity for a party.

  I arrived in style. Alone. But in style. Fortunately, most of the team had already filled the ball-room. I expected some high-class, pinky-finger raised sipping tea sort of event.

  But, for ten-thousand dollars a head, the party was wild. The ballroom pumped with music and swaying lights—a club scene complete with flashing floors and the occasional haze of a smoke machine near a dance floor. It filled with people in evening gowns and tuxedos, grinding to a hard beat.

  My kind of party.

  And not the sort of shindig that suited Cole Hawthorne. He sat at a corner table with a scowl. His hair had been pulled into a respectable ponytail, but the tux was one Hulk-smash away from ripping off his body. Piper tugged on his arm, trying to pull him to the dance floor.

  “Come on.” Her gold skirts puffed out—the real-deal ball gown fit for a princess. “You dance at home.”

  “Yeah, with the meatball.”

  “Please?” Piper gave him a sly grin and patted her swelling tummy. “What about our other meatball?”

  “Go on, Cole!” I grinned at him. He didn’t like that. “If you don’t dance with her, I will.”

  Piper took my arm. “See. Some of my clients know how to treat their agent.”

  Cole scoffed. “Yeah, knowing Lachlan, that dance will end after midnight, when you’ve both crossed the border with warrants out for your arrest. Let her go, rookie.”

  Instantly. I wasn’t getting between The Beast and his pregnant woman. That was grounds for certain dismemberment.

  I grinned. “Just trying to show the lady a good time.”

  A champagne glass appeared before me. Leah Carson winked and offered me a toast. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  Jack appeared beside her, chugging his drink before snaking a hand around Leah and her skin-tight silver dress. “Cole, you’re not dancing?”

  “Do I look like a man who dances?” Cole said.

  Piper smirked. “You’ll look like an ass if you don’t.”

  “That’s my normal look.”

  Leah sighed. “And I’ve been trying to fix it.”

  “Good luck.” Piper winked. “The only one he listens to is the toddler.”

  “She makes some good points.”

  “Yesterday she smooshed a banana in your shoes before covering herself head-to-toe in hand lotion. Surely Rosie is a bastion of wisdom.”

  A flash blinked over our table. Jack turned, posed with Leah, and raised his eyebrows. “Look, Kiss. If it isn’t the blushing bride…”

  The series of quick, angry flashes deliberately blinded Jack. My vision haloed with floating purple spots, but they cleared to reveal the most beautiful fucking woman in the world.

  And, Christ, was she dressed to kill.

  A black corset wrapped over Elle’s chest, pushing those tits to Heaven while the plump swell of her hips would damn me to Hell. Her hair tumbled in waves over her bare shoulders, though most was held in place by a dark blue barrette in the shape of a bow that matched her swishing skirt. The pleated navy material caressed her long legs. The outfit transformed my Elle from a trendy little trouble-maker into a sexy, sensual heart-breaker.

  She tried to speak, but not a sound puffed from her lips.

  It was adorable. I grinned. “Lost your voice?”

  She patted her throat with a frustrated shrug.

  “You can’t talk at all?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Lucky,” Cole muttered. Piper smacked his arm.

  “What happened?” Leah asked.

  “She was sick,” I said.

  Elle pointed to me in the affirmative and mimed throwing up, coughing, and then gestured to her voice box. I didn’t need to know the full story. Her charades were horrifying enough.

  “You feeling okay now?” I pulled her closer. She tensed in front of the others but nodded. “Want to dance?”

  “Aww.” Piper gave Cole a fierce glance. “How sweet.”

  Elle didn’t find it as charming. She arched an eyebrow and patted the camera in her hands.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “You’re working?”

  She waved to me, Cole, and Jack, then aimed a finger across the room at Coach Thompson and a few members of the defense. Point taken. Team events plus Leah’s PR spin machine meant this would be one well-documented party.

  “Well, here.” I handed her my champagne. “At least have a drink.”

  She backed away from the glass like it was filled with acid. This time she tapped the camera harder.

  “Really?”

  She shrugged, stroked her wrist where a watch would go, and pretended to aim the camera. I had no idea what it meant, but whatever. I downed the champagne instead. It definitely wasn’t strong enough to mask the aches and pains from practice, but it was a start.

  Another flash captured us. This time, Elle’s boss, Peter, held the camera.

  “Don’t you all look fantastic?” He greeted us with a smile. “And Elle. You’re absolutely lovely.”

  She gave a knowing shrug and motioned to return to the party. Peter stopped her.

  “Elle, why don’t you enjoy yourself tonight?” He took her camera. “Go on. Spend some time with your husband.”

  The group laughed. Elle didn’t.

  “You’ll have plenty of overtime during these next few weeks,” he said.

  “Oh? The exhibition games?” I asked. “You’re covering those?”

  She nodded, quickly.

  Peter patted her arm. “It’d do you some good to have a night off. Give me one picture of the happy couple, and you can have all the fun you want.”

  Perfect.

  I seized the opportunity while Elle couldn’t
yell at me. I twirled her in my arms, dipped her, and took my kiss.

  The camera flashed, and Elle’s heel jammed into my shoe.

  “Yeah, I deserved that.” I grinned. “Totally worth it.”

  “You two probably know it…” Leah said. “But you make the cutest couple.”

  “That’s what I keep telling her.” I kissed Elle’s hand this time. She pulled her wrist back, thwapping my nose with a chastising finger. “She doesn’t know how good she’s got it.”

  Her hands poised over her hips, but that insulted back arch pushed up those tits even more.

  “First she doesn’t remember our wedding.” I baited her with a smile. “Then she refuses my advances. Teases me. Uses me. And yet, here I am…asking for more trouble.”

  “Yeah.” Jack nodded. “That’s marriage.”

  Leah flicked his ear. “And you love it.”

  “Was never planning on it.”

  “You got it anyway, Play-Maker.”

  A waiter passed by, and I plucked a champagne glass from his tray. I handed it to Elle.

  “Now that you’re off the clock...”

  She set the glass on the table with a shrug. Her hand patted her throat once more, but Piper’s startled gasp shocked the group.

  Leah pointed too, her eyes widened. “Oh my God. Elle—?”

  Elle grabbed my hand and yanked. I tripped over the damn dress shoes—shiny and black, but without any cleats for traction. Elle waved a rushed goodbye to the women and hauled me from the table.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked.

  Elle led me to a darkened corner of the dance floor and placed my hands on her hips.

  Her soft, full, sexy hips.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “This…this is good.”

  My cock swelled as she pulled close to me. Her arms looped behind my neck as she swayed to the music’s sensual beat. Every movement this woman made was pure magic.

  Her chest bumped against mine, and I lost myself in her wide-eyed, almost curious gaze.

  “You look fucking amazing, Red.”

  And I didn’t just mean the ample, caramel skin that plumped from her corset. A lock of hair, streaked with that punk red, fell over her breasts. I followed the ringlet to the gentle curve of her cheek, the delicate tease of her eyebrow, and into the dark curls of her hair.

  “You have no idea how…delicious you look right now.” I could hardly speak. “Something’s changed.”

  She shook her head no.

  “Nope. Something is definitely different with you.”

  Her shoulders shrugged high. I didn’t buy the coy act, especially as she tightened her hold on me. Even mid-song, with our bodies touching and the music coursing through us, Elle tensed.

  Something bothered her, and it wasn’t just that she had gone mute during the afternoon.

  “Maybe I can guess what’s changed,” I said.

  Her eyebrow arched.

  “Have some faith in me. You’re my wife. I can read you like a book.”

  She cracked a smile. A challenge?

  “I bet I know what’s happened to you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she held her breath.

  “It’s obvious, Elle. Has been for a while. Everyone’s already noticed.”

  She stopped dancing, glancing over herself, her dress.

  “I’ve known since the river.”

  Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

  “You’re absolutely crazy about me. Got the love-bug for me so bad you can’t function.”

  Elle dropped her hands, but I didn’t let her keep the indignant pout.

  “You know it’s true. You’ve suddenly realized you can’t imagine life without me.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Every night, you go to sleep and think…” I spun her, surprising her as the music switched to something more upbeat. “Oh, that Lachlan Reed. He’s so dreamy. I hope he’s thinking about me.”

  Elle shrugged, mocking a nighttime prayer with folded hands.

  “Yep. That’s it. You’re smitten. Can’t help it. All day, every day, you’re trapped in your own lust. Thinking…I hope he likes me. I can’t wait to see him again. Maybe he’ll ask me to marry him…oh, wait!” I spun her to my chest for a kiss. My lips stayed close to hers. “It’s burning you alive, isn’t it? You want me so bad you can’t even think straight.”

  She feigned helplessness, pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead.

  “Can’t hide this stuff from me, Red.”

  Her kiss was a quick peck.

  “You’ve missed me. Been thinking about the last time we were together.”

  The music shifted again, something deeper, darker, and thrumming a vibration through both of us. Elle settled into my arms—soft, but still playful.

  Watching me. Waiting.

  She rubbed against me, sensing my hardness through the tux.

  “I know you love what I do to you.” I lowered my voice, just for her, so she could hear the edge of a growl that teased us both. “You got the sweetest fucking pussy in the world. And when you come…”

  She poked at me, but no one could hear. I liked making her eyes widen in that sheltered shock.

  “You have this honey cream, Red. I can’t get enough of it. I’ll eat for hours if it means getting a taste of that creamy treat.” I licked my lips. “I’ve been craving it all week.”

  Her fingers tightened on me. The song swayed, deep and rhythmic. Perfect for a sultry dance that let us get a little too close, touch a little too low.

  “You wouldn’t want a man to starve, would you, Red?”

  She exhaled with a trembling breath.

  “Why don’t you give me another chance at that slit? Let me spread those legs, kiss that pussy, tongue that cute little clit?”

  She looked to her sides. No one was watching. No one could hear. It was just me and her.

  “Or do you want a fuck?” I let the word linger. “I’ll push you against a wall, wrap those legs around me, and fill you up tight with my cock?”

  Her lips parted, but she didn’t try to speak. She puffed a heated breath and swallowed.

  I did the same.

  “Know what I want?” I leaned close. She smelled of coconut and paradise and complete and total mystery. “I want to show you around this party, all prim and proper and classy in that dress.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “But we’ll have a secret.” I nibbled her ear. “They won’t know that you’ve just been fucked and filled with load after load of cum.”

  It was a great party, but I knew how to make it more fun.

  I tugged her hand. A question. One that didn’t need words.

  She followed, staring at me and breathless. Her head just barely nodded.

  I’d reward that bravery.

  Inside, the gala was too crowded for anything more than a sensual dance, but Jack and Leah had picked the perfect location for their event—a country club and botanical garden. A romantic place. Beautiful. Quiet.

  I led her across the dance floor and to a side exit, sneaking through a secondary area by the stage. The songs were ending, and the lights brightened to welcome the party-goers.

  Jack waited to be introduced as Leah fixed his bow tie. I winked as I passed him.

  “You two behave…” He shrugged his own warning away. “Never mind. Go for it. If there’s a scandal tonight, better you than me.”

  Elle hid her face, but she chased after me, sneaking from the party into a beautifully landscaped garden and patio. Twinkling, white LEDs glittered through the wrought-iron fences, separating a dining patio from the garden. I found our perfect hideaway.

  A hedge maze, even taller than me, snaked through a fabulous courtyard. It twisted far from the club and into the dark silence of the humid night and all its promises.

  I should have declared this our third date, but that was fine. I’d take any extra time I could get with Elle. Maybe we were stretching our agreed-upon rules, but
she hadn’t argued on technicalities yet.

  And she wouldn’t after tonight.

  Our shoes crunched over the gravel, and we entered the maze. I let Elle lead me, first left, then right, until the darkness swirled around us deep within the maze. We were tangled and twisted as we came to the same stone bench marking the path we’d crossed three times in a row.

  Maybe we were lost.

  But hell, I was already lost in her.

  I had been, ever since the minute I met Elle. The hours we passed talking, the weekend we hid within each other’s arms, and the days we’d spent together at training camp had transformed our drunken, mistaken marriage into…

  Something more.

  Something that might have been more.

  I could make it happen.

  I reached for her, but she was already there, pressed against me. Her arms circled my neck, and her lips parted for my kiss, my tongue, my nibble.

  Everything.

  Like she knew exactly what I needed. Elle wasn’t just a tease anymore. She dragged me to that damning edge quicker than any woman ever could.

  “I always want to take my time with you…” I mumbled against her lips. She let me guide her to the stone bench, a flat little altar just for me. “When we’re apart, I imagine all these fun things I could do to you. Roses. Chocolate. Little feather toys…”

  She smiled gripping the bench as I tucked her skirt over her waist. A wicked black thong separated me from her. I pulled it aside, staring at that puffy little slit.

  “But then I see you…” My voice dropped low. “And it takes every ounce of my strength not to mount you like a damned animal.”

  I recognized her tell—a dead giveaway that she was hot and waiting. The quiver of her lip always peaked into a smirk when a thought sounded wicked to her.

  “But you like getting fucked that way, don’t you?” I let the word hiss, watching as she shuddered in a silken delight. I raced my own desire to unbutton my pants. Last thing either of us needed was for me to bust a seam in the middle of the party. “You love it when I lose all control with you.”

  She leaned forward, gripping my cock and tugging the length with gentle fingers and a dirty mind.

  My heart crashed against my chest. Every muscle in my body readied, pumped full of adrenaline for a chase, an attack, a flight, fight, or fuck.