Chapter Two, Part 3
For Colt, the next few hours were a fifty-fifty split of heaven and hell. Normally that condition would be because while he loved talking football with the team’s fans, being around as many people as were at the Thunder Dome Crew event made him all twingy. But today, the agony and the ecstasy all came down to a pocket-size team liaison who had him imagining scenarios that made him harder than a fireplace poker and unable to do a damn thing about it.
Thank God he was sitting down at a table. The position gave him some much needed cover and made the whole meet-and-greet thing easier. Instead of being in the middle of a scrum like before, he was surrounded by a small group of fans came and went in twenty-minute increments. While he’d been in one spot, Angie had strutted her hot stuff from one table to the another in a black sundress with gold thread interwoven in the material. The light from the small bulbs strung across the pool kept reflecting off the threads, drawing his attention. He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on the way the material swirled around her as she moved, because the woman was never still. Unlike him, she looked right at home in the mix of strangers.
“To the Thunder.” The fan sitting to his left clinked his beer against Colt’s water bottle. “So let me ask you, man…”
Colt tried to concentrate on what the guy wearing Darius’s old number was saying, but Angie turned around at that moment and their eyes met. That’s how everything had started in Vegas. A look across the room backstage at the awards show. After that, he’d done everything he could to stay within her line of sight until she finally gave in and came over to ask him what was up. One thing had led to another and they’d ended up back at his hotel room for a night of hot, sweaty sex so good, he’d remember it on his deathbed. Then she’d snuck out while he was in the shower and, after explaining she didn’t date football players, had blocked his number. No one had ever done that to him before and it tweaked his competitive nature.
“So what do you think?” the man on his left asked.
Colt froze. Damn. His palms turned clammy. He was fast on the field but not so much in social situations.
“I think you’re nuts.” Mystie pulled out a chair in a huff and flopped down next to the man. “LeRoi had a great season, but he’s nowhere near ready to take Colt’s place—not that anyone could.”
The man’s jowls jiggled and his face turned a deep red. “That’s not what I asked,” he sputtered.
His number one fan and apparent protector jabbed a sharp nail into the man’s chest. “It may not be the words you used, but it was what you were asking and it’s not appreciated.”
They stared at each other like dogs facing off over a meaty bone, and the intuition that gave Colt a split second heads-up about how a play was going to break went on alert.
“As my granny would say, simmer down here.” Colt covered Mystie’s hand with his and lowered it to the table before the other man’s head popped off. “LeRoi is a helluva player, but I’m not going anywhere for a long time if I have anything to say about it.”
“No offense,” the man said. “But your injury—”
“Is all healed up.” Relieved the discussion about his future had killed his boner, Colt stood up and put his full weight on his right leg. His ankle didn’t even ache. “The doc cleared me just this week. I’m hitting the gym and getting ready for training camp as soon as we get back to Miami.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the team’s unofficial theme song started to play and every fan at the tables stood, raised their glasses and sang along. He looked across the deck, gaze stopping as soon as he spotted Angie. He didn’t mean to look for her, but somehow every time he looked up from the table, he found himself searching the crowd until he spotted her long, thick brown hair.
She pointed at him then made the okay sign with her hands. Figuring she wasn’t asking about his mental abilities, which seemed to go haywire when he was around her, he nodded. She gave him a thumbs-up and started to weave her way through the crowd toward his table.
The song ended and Mystie leaned in close. “You let me know if you need me to give anyone another talking to.”
She had the whole manic pixie girl vibe going on, but her obvious enthusiasm was starting to win him over.
He gave her a high five. “Will do.”
“You know, you’re a pretty alright guy, no matter what the forums say.” She started waving. “Hey, Angie! Over here.”
“Forums?” His gut pinched. He didn’t need to know what they were saying, he had a pretty damn good idea and he fucking hated it.
“Yeah, the idiots on the Thunder Board are saying that LeRoi should keep the starting job next season.” She rolled her eyes. “Morons.”
Angie finally made it over right as a redhead with a predatory gleam in her eyes sidled up next to him, dragging her brunette friend along. The redhead was that certain type of hot with a razor-sharp hardness that reminded him of the talk Coach Carter had given all the rookies the season he joined the Thunder. Once a player signed that big-money contract, they turned into prey for people who cared more about the zeroes on their paycheck than them.
Ignoring everyone else around them, the woman trailed her nail down his chest and licked her plump lips. “You looking for company tonight, handsome?”
The first time a woman had approached him like this, his ego and dick had led the way, but he’d learned.
“Sorry, ladies.” Colt reached out and wrapped an arm around the middle of Angie’s hourglass body and pulled her so close, not a single sliver of moonlight could make its way between them. “I’m taken.”
“Really?” The redhead arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms, giving Angie a critical up and down look. “I thought she was your assistant.”
A mental image of all the things Angie could assist him with rolled through his mind like a porn highlight reel, and he shifted his stance to ease the sweet agony of his cock pressing against his zipper. “She’s a lot more than that.”
The brunette sighed and glanced up at Colt through her eyelashes. “You’re so lucky to have a man like him.”
Angie wiggled out of his grasp, shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder as she took a step away. “I’m not—”
Colt spun her around so she faced him and kissed her before the truth could escape her lips. He’d just meant for it to be a brief brush against her lips to persuade the groupies to back off. But as soon as he tasted the cherry flavor of the ChapStick on her pink lips, there was no turning back. He deepened the kiss, teasing the seam of her mouth and tempting her to open and let him in. With a quiet moan, she opened her mouth and he swept his tongue inside. The memory of how sweet she tasted was nothing compared to the reality.
He tugged her closer until his hard cock pressed against her belly. That’s what she did to him—every damn time he thought about her, and he’d done that plenty since that night. He’d never been a monk or a particularly monogamous man, but he’d known the moment he saw her that she was different.
The kiss may have started as a play for escape, but by the time he ended it and the world came into focus bit by bit, he’d formed a different game plan—one that involved her naked and spread out before him on his bed’s crisp white sheets.
People around them whistled and clapped. A few voices called out “go girl” while a few others shouted “lucky son of a bitch”, and for once he didn’t care about an entire crowd of people all focusing on him. There wasn’t enough room left in his head with all the dirty ideas kissing her had inspired.
Angie blinked several times, her gaze fuzzy and her kiss-swollen lips even more tempting than before. He could tell the moment the clapping around them registered because all the satisfied sex kitten faded from her gaze, replaced by what looked disturbingly like horror.
She grabbed his hand and dragged him to a deserted cocktail table. “Being your kissing cover isn’t part of the deal, Colt,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“And you think that’s why I kissed you? Because of the thirsty groupies?” It wasn’t the right thing to say; he knew it as soon as her toe connected with his shin. Hard. For a small woman, she could inflict some damage.
“We both know it is.”
“No, honey.” He tucked her silky hair behind her ear and leaned down, close enough to that the temptation to suck on the lobe was too much to resist, so he didn’t. Her responding shiver only encouraged him and he snuck a quick kiss to the spot right behind her ear before stepping back out of kicking distance. “That’s what you’re trying to convince yourself it was.”
He winked and disappeared into the crowd before she could respond. He had all night to map out his playbook. Tomorrow, the real game began.
If you missed earlier chapters, you can find it here!