The Right Player: A Sports Romance, page 23
Football, and love.
And now, finally, I had both.
“Now, take me back to your place,” Belle said, breaking our kiss well before I was ready. “We have some sex to do.”
I barked out a laugh at that. “Oh, do we now?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said on a nod, already on her way over to the passenger side of my car. “I’ve been reading up on sports psychology, and there’s a link between sex and sports performance. So, I figure, we’ve got a solid week of boning to do to get you ready for the next game.”
I laughed again, tossing my bag in the back seat before I climbed into the driver side, leaning over to kiss my passenger before I started the engine.
“You know that’s all a myth, right?” I asked with an arched brow. “There is no scientific evidence to prove that sex has any effect on sports performance — good or bad.”
“Well, I think we should experiment, then. In the name of science.”
I slid my hand over her knee to grip her thigh, putting the car in reverse. “I’ve never been so excited for a science project before.”
“I really am sorry I didn’t do a grand gesture,” she said when we pulled out of the parking lot. “Zach even tried to convince me to take his famous hot dog costume, but I refused.”
I frowned, trying to put the pieces together with the strange words that had just come out of her mouth. “Uh… famous what?”
She waved me off. “I’ll show you the video later. Just know I saved you from an eyesore you’d never be rid of.”
I chuckled, taking her word for it as I pulled her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles as we drove through the streets en route to my condo.
We talked the whole way — her about her week, and me about mine, which really were quite similar when we broke them down to the molecular level. We had both been miserable, barely eating or sleeping, longing to talk to the other but feeling like we couldn’t.
By the time I got her home, all I could think about was holding her and never letting her go.
It was dark in my place, the moon covered by a shadow of clouds, but I didn’t have time to reach for a light switch before Belle had my hand in hers, tugging me back to my bedroom.
We shed articles of clothing along the way, her slipping her dress overhead and letting it puddle in the hallway floor, me yanking my t-shirt up the same way, her stepping out of her wedges, me nearly falling as I hopped out of my jogger pants. We made it to the bedroom with me in my briefs and her in a strapless bra and silky lace thong, and I stopped her when she reached for it, wanting to do the honors.
I dropped to my knees, kissing my way down her chest, her navel, the inside of her thighs. My thumbs skated between her hips and the fabric, and I peeled it down, cock throbbing at the sight of her bare pussy in my face.
She held onto my shoulders, stepping out of the thong now at her ankles, and then she unsnapped her bra, her beautiful breasts spilling out above me.
I groaned, reaching up to palm her with one hand and grabbing her ass with the other. I yanked her closer, kissing her mound, down, down, down, until my tongue swept over her clit.
Belle leaned into the touch with a moan, her hands fisting in what little hair of mine she could grab. She hiked one leg up onto my shoulder, allowing me better access, and I answered her plea with both hands holding her ass as I buried my face between those perfect legs.
I would have stayed down there all night, if she’d let me. I would have paid my penance in the form of making her come on my tongue time and time again. But I’d just barely gotten started when she pulled at my arms, urging me up, and then we tumbled into my messy bed in a tangle of mouths and limbs, kissing and touching, moaning and shaking like we were being touched for the first time.
“Please, Makoa,” she begged when I was between her legs, her heels digging into my ass, nails dragging down my back.
My cock was buried between her lips, coated with her desire, and I flexed my hips, sliding my length up and down to rub her clit while she trembled at the sensation.
“Please,” she echoed, nails all but drawing blood now.
I reached between us, positioning myself at her entrance, and then with both hands under her shoulders, I pulled her down onto me as I thrust inside, filling her in one long stroke, both of us shuddering in unison at the overwhelming feeling of being connected again.
For a long moment, I stayed there, deep inside her with her pussy tightening around me, our foreheads pressed together. Then, slowly, I began moving, withdrawing my hips only to flex them again, in and out, our hot breaths meeting between us in the sweetest symphony.
And that’s when it hit me.
That moment, right there, with Belle moaning in my ear and her legs tightening around my waist, it all hit me.
She was here.
She forgave me.
She loved me.
She was mine.
Realization after realization pummeled me like unrelenting waves, and though I tried with all the strength I had left in me, I couldn’t stop what happened next.
I tried to hide it, tried to bury my emotion in Belle’s shoulder as I kept my pace, but it was no use. She stiffened in my arms, pressing back on my shoulders gently until I had no choice but to face her.
“Are you… are you crying right now?”
I tried to hide my face again, but Belle wouldn’t let me, and she laughed before kissing all over my jaw and cheeks, her lips erasing my tears as they fell.
“Oh, my God, you are. You’re crying.”
She barked out a laugh then, and any proud man would have shriveled up and died right there on the spot. As it was, I didn’t give a shit about pride, so I just laughed along with her.
“I can’t help it,” I said, kissing her neck. “I’m just… I’m so fucking happy.”
She chuckled, framing my face until I looked at her fully. Her eyes searched mine, and I slowed my rhythm between her legs, soaking up every second of the way she looked underneath me in that moment.
“You really are a big softie, aren’t you?” she asked on a smile.
I shrugged. “The biggest. You’re going to have to hold me when we watch Hallmark movies.”
She snorted.
“Still love me?”
At that, her smile widened, and she shook her head before her lips found mine. “I do. I really do. So fucking much.”
I smiled against that kiss, savoring those words like they were the air I needed to survive.
And for the rest of the night, I showed her just how much I felt the same.
Belle
If I thought Makoa couldn’t surprise me more than he already had in the time we’d been dating, I was proven wrong the second we stepped onto the dance floor at Gemma and Zach’s wedding.
It was the strangest, most adorable, and most hilarious thing I’d ever seen, to see that six-foot-five mammoth of a man doing the moon walk, lawn mower, running man, floss, and more in a navy blue tuxedo that fit him like a glove. He was the center of attention, everyone gathering around him in a circle, clapping and laughing as he dove down onto the floor and did the worm all the way back to the edge of the dance floor. He hopped up like it was nothing, grooving his way back over to where I stood with my arms crossed shaking my head. But in the next breath, I was launched up into the air in a spin, and he caught me just as easily as he’d tossed me, twirling me around before he took me in his arms.
“You’re a freaking nut!” I screamed over the music.
“I’m nuts for you.”
He kissed my neck as I rolled my eyes at the cheesy line, but I couldn’t even fake that I was annoyed for too long before I was laughing and kissing him back.
The truth was, I was happy to see him letting loose on the dance floor. God knows he needed it, after all the pressure he’d been under the last few weeks. I’d felt more like his coach than his girlfriend recently, helping him get his head right so he could show out in practice and in the final two pre-season games.
And boy, did he show out.
His third game was even more monstrous than his first, and the fact that he had a solid game last Sunday proved to his coach and the rest of his team that he could be depended on. Yes, he’d had a rough week, but he’d snapped out of it and come back with a vengeance.
And now, he was officially a Chicago Bear.
Tonight felt like a celebration of that as much as it did Zach and Gemma’s love, especially with everything in the damn place being football themed. There was a Chicago Bears jersey with BOWEN on the back that everyone signed instead of a guest book. The dance floor had been painted like a football field, green with the yard lines, complete with a field goal post at each end that Makoa had swung on before landing in a half split at one point in the night.
From the centerpieces to the flowers, Gemma had found clever ways to weave in her and Zach’s mutual love for the game into their big day, and as much as I had thought it was a hideously stupid idea in the beginning… it worked.
It was so beautifully them.
The day had gone off without a hitch, and as much as I’d sworn to keep my shit together, I’d cried a dozen times already — the first time being when I stood opposite Zach and watched his face as Gemma walked down the aisle to him, and the most recent being when Gemma and Zach held onto each other through their first dance. It had started with the soft, slow melody of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley, which shocked me, honestly, because I never would have guessed that’d be their pick for their first dance. But when the music cut out and “The Final Countdown” came on instead, the two jokesters breaking out into a wild and crazy dance, I wasn’t the only guest surprised. We’d all laughed and cheered, and it was Makoa who filled me in that the dance moves they were doing were from the final number in Silver Linings Playbook.
Because, of course.
At the base of it all, the only thing that mattered was that Gemma and Zach had permanent smiles on their faces throughout the day and into the night, too. They looked at each other in the way that made you want to both swoon and gag at the same time.
They were in love.
So desperately in love.
Makoa was a sweaty mess when I managed to drag him off the dance floor for a break. I chuckled when he flopped down into his chair, legs sprawled out, hand fanning himself. I grabbed a spare cloth napkin from an unused silverware roll and dabbed his forehead with it, smiling and shaking my head.
“You’re going to be more sore from dancing than from practice today.”
“No regrets,” he said, flashing his signature smile.
He stole a kiss before we were joined by the newlyweds, and Zach flopped down in the seat next to Makoa, while Gemma wrapped her arms around my neck from behind.
“Are you guys having fun?!” she asked excitedly.
I poked her side, pulling her into my lap, big fluffy white dress and all. “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, gesturing to Makoa. “My boyfriend has already sweat himself out of his suit.”
“Take the jacket off, man,” Zach said, nodding to his own attire — which was the dress pants from his tux and the dress shirt, minus the tie and jacket. “Trust me. Game changer.”
Makoa was already stripping out of his jacket when Gemma wrapped her arms around my neck, leaning her head against mine. “This has been the most perfect day,” she said. “And to think I actually have a Chicago Bears player at my wedding!”
Makoa chuckled, he and Zach exchanging a look that made me curious what they were hiding.
“I mean, I always dreamed I would, but I never thought it would actually happen.” She squeezed me a little tighter. “Thanks for making that dream come true, bestie!”
I laughed. “Yep. That’s the only reason I’m dating him, to make your dream come true.” I looked at Makoa, then. “You’re cool with breaking up after tonight, right?”
There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face when he answered. “We are never breaking up. You’re stuck with me.”
I sighed. “Fine.” But I winked at him in the same breath.
Makoa looked at Zach again before he nodded to Gemma. “You know, it’s funny you brought that up. When I was talking about your wedding at practice today, well… it piqued some interest.”
Gemma frowned, confused.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a few friends to the party,” Makoa said, looking behind where Gemma and I were seated.
We both peeked over our shoulders, and where I was still confused, Gemma’s eyes bulged out of her head before she jumped out of her seat and covered her mouth, shaking her head as she took in the three new guests.
I was trying to get to know the game better, and the team, for that matter, but I still had a lot to learn. Still, even with my weak knowledge, it wasn’t hard to see in that moment that three Chicago Bears football players had just walked into Gemma’s wedding reception.
And she was freaking the fuck out.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” She sounded like a parrot, still frozen in place. Finally, she pointed a finger at the first one, a tall, lean, blond man in the middle. “You’re Brad Thompson,” she said, finger moving to the other two next. “And you’re… you’re William James, and… and…”
She couldn’t even speak when she got to the last man, who was shorter than the rest but built like an absolute tank, the light gray tuxedo he was wearing a stark contrast against his black skin. He had a smile that could make panties wet on first sight, and he wore that smile with his hands in his pockets while he waited for Gemma to continue.
When she still didn’t speak after a full ten seconds, he stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m Mike Howard,” he said, arching a brow. “And I believe, if what Kumaka here was saying earlier is true, that I’m your all-time favorite football player?”
It was a good thing Zach had gotten up out of his chair to stand beside his bride, because she nearly fainted with Mike’s hand in hers. Her knees gave way, and she leaned into Zach with her eyes rolling up to the sky. I really thought she was going down, but then she bounced back, squealing with glee and launching herself at the poor guy.
He caught her on a laugh, giving the other players a look like what the hell did we get ourselves into before Gemma squirmed out of his grasp.
“I can’t believe this!” She bounced on her toes, hands clasped together at her heart as she stared at all of them for a moment longer. She turned to Makoa then, complete shock and awe on her face. “You did this?”
“Hey, it was Zach who told me your favorite players. I just asked for a favor from my new teammates.” Makoa winked at the guys, then, who all smiled in return, and then Mike held his hand out for Gemma’s.
“If your husband doesn’t mind, I think we oughta get out there for a dance or two. What do you say?”
Gemma scoffed, waving her hand over her shoulder. “I say whether my husband wants me to or not, let’s dance!”
She was already tugging the guys onto the floor when Zach laughed, looking back at me and Makoa with a shrug. “That one’s mine.”
We laughed, too, and then Zach followed them out onto the dance floor, and the rest of the guests were pulling out their phones to snap pictures, realizing who the new attendees were.
I smiled at Makoa as he watched the dance floor, sliding into his lap and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That was really sweet of you.”
He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“Can you believe you’re a Chicago Bear now?”
He chuckled. “Well, it’s not my first NFL team, remember? But… I think this will be even better than San Francisco. I’ve got a chance to get some real playing time, and maybe, one day… I’ll be a starter, and everyone will want my name on a jersey.”
I frowned. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the only girl wearing your jersey.”
“Might have to share me with the fans, babe.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Hmm… I’ll think about it.” I smiled, kissing him quickly before I wrapped my arms around his neck with a sigh. “Man, with the season starting, I’m never going to see you, am I?”
“I’ll have Tuesdays off… sort of.”
I chuckled. “I’ll take whatever I can get.” I paused then, searching his honey eyes with my own. “I’m really proud of you.”
Makoa answered with a deep, breath-stealing kiss, and then the DJ announced that it was time for all “the single ladies” to gather on the dance floor.
I groaned at the prospect, but Makoa shoved me out there, and I stood with my arms crossed in the back of a group of giggling, excited girls waiting for the bouquet.
Except when Gemma stood on the little stage at the front of the dance floor, she didn’t have flowers at all.
She had a football.
Because, of course.
And I knew when I saw that devilish gleam in her eyes when she turned around that she was launching that sucker straight at me.
It was a flurry of hands and hair and chiffon when that ball was tossed in the air, but the girls had absolutely no chance at catching the ball. Gemma had thrown it high and far to the back where I stood, and I didn’t have to move a single inch to reach up and catch it.
She turned, acting like she was surprised when she saw the ball in my hand, and she did a little dance of glee before hopping down off the stage and going back to dancing with the Chicago Bears players.
I made my way over to where Makoa still sat at the table, tossing the football to him when I was close enough.
He caught it easily, laughing and reading the writing on the ball once I was back in his lap.
“Great catch, you’re next!” he read aloud, tossing the football up and catching it again before he looked at me. “What do you think of that?”
“What do you think of that?”
He shrugged, putting the ball aside and holding me in his arms. “I think you’d look pretty damn hot in a white dress.”
I smiled. “That so?”
“Mm,” he said, pulling me into him for a long, promising kiss. His lips found my ear next. “Belle Kumaka,” he whispered. “Kind of has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
