Blitzed (Rules of Possession Book 3), page 25
Oh shit. I lunged out of my chair to grab his arm and yanked, hard. It was like trying to move a brick wall and judging from Ari’s gasp, Andrew was about to have a mug shot of his own. “Will you stop that?” I yelled. “You’re making things worse.”
“This,” Ari gasped. “This is what I wanted you to see.”
He gave Ari a good shake. “See what?” he growled. “How far you can push me before I do something I’ll go to jail for?”
“Baby.” That single word made him freeze and he looked at me—really looked at me for the first time since he’d decided that both the question and answer was a beatdown. “He’s showing us what it’s going to be like.”
Emotions flitted across his face in rapid succession as he struggled to get it together and keep it together. I began to fear for his blood pressure from the dusky color of his cheeks. I saw the moment that he got it, really got it.
They were going to tear me apart.
His shoulders finally relaxed and he let go of Ari’s shirt slowly. Ari sank in his chair, straightening his collar and smoothing out wrinkles. His expression was entirely too placid for someone who’d almost been strangled with a Tom Ford shirt.
He watched warily as we both took our seats.
“Very good, Jesse.” Ari nailed me with an intense stare. “That was mild compared to what you’re in for. Do you understand?”
I nodded jerkily. I could rant and rave that I was a different person now, but at the end of the day, I would be judged. Harshly. I’d lose friends. Colleagues. Maybe my job. I knew Joshua didn’t care about my past, but we couldn’t afford to lose donors. I’d quit before I let that happen.
“Despite what Cujo here is telling you, I’m on your side.” At Andrew’s little growl, Ari’s mouth twitched. “The things you’ve accomplished are nothing short of amazing. You were a kid who was dealt a shitty hand. And instead of complaining about your cards, you played them.”
Fuck, I’d rather he call me a prostitute again than suffer through praise. “I don’t know about all that,” I said awkwardly.
“I wasn’t asking,” he said mildly. “And I don’t blow smoke up people’s asses unless they pay me ten percent, so you can believe what I say.”
“Everyone isn’t going to be quite as enamored.”
“You don’t need everyone,” Andrew said, his voice rough. His eyes were intense on mine. “You have me.”
“And me.” From the little grin he sent me, Ari was well aware he’d ruined a potential moment. “I can promise I’ll be in your corner, smoothing over any rough edges I can. I just wanted you to know what you’re up against.”
“Right.” I blew out a breath. “I need time to think.”
“You have all the time you need.” Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, he added, “As long as you only need two weeks. That’s how long my reporter friend gave me before he runs the article as is.”
“Is he trustworthy?”
“No, but he owes me. I don’t trot out the favors often, but when I do, they’re effective. And I only do it for friends, not clients,” he said with a pointed sniff in Andrew’s direction.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“You owe me a shirt,” Ari said, looking down at the yoke which was twisted and wrinkled beyond repair.
“Fine.”
“And some scotch. Not that cheap shit you drink, either. I’m talking top drawer, premium stuff. The kind you see in a commercial about being interesting and suave.”
He sighed louder. “Done.”
“Good. Now get out of my office.”
The ride to the lobby was a silent one, each of us lost in our thoughts. The quiet lasted all the way to the car and even as we buckled up. Andrew broke the silence first. “Come home with me tonight?”
I shook my head. “I can’t…I need time to think.”
Without you. The words didn’t need to be spoken. When we were together like this, he made anything seem possible. I could barely get out the question is it worth it without my heart singing yessss. I needed to think about the consequences. I didn’t want to be tempted to do something rash.
“You need time to think, huh?” His jaw tightened. “There’s no worse phrase in the English language when it comes to relationships.”
I didn’t know about that. I can’t do this had to be pretty high up on the list, too.
I put my hand palm up on the middle console. He looked at it for a moment before enfolding it in his larger one. He had to do some fancy driving so we maintained the connection, but I didn’t care.
I didn’t plan on letting go until I had to.
26
ANDREW
Postgame interviews were a necessary evil. That was even more true when you’d missed half the season, came back out of the blue, and had one of the best games of your career. Half-dressed and still a little sweaty, all I wanted was a shower and enough ice to submerge my everything. And food. Copious amounts of food.
Instead, I put on my game face and let Vaughn do most of the talking. I’d scored a touchdown when we needed it most, a fifteen-yard beauty of a carry where my rehabbed knee left Jayson Hurkle in the dust. Okay, I didn’t so much as leave him in the dust as charge into the end zone a half-step ahead. Then I ran out of bounds so I didn’t get a first-hand demonstration of why they called him the Incredible Hurk.
I sat up straighter when Vaughn nudged me with his thigh. Look alive, McAdams, this one is for you.
A woman with a blond bob looked at me expectantly, and I was momentarily distracted by the fact that her glasses had no lenses. “Tandy Lewis with the Aventura Daily. McAdams, there’s been a lot of buzz about your return. Are you satisfied with your performance tonight?”
I made a game-winning touchdown, lady. I did my best not to give her crazy eyes. The only way I could’ve outperformed myself was to use my Madden avatar.
I channeled my best media darling before I answered. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better. We’ve got an amazing team and everyone put in a thousand percent effort tonight.”
She sent me a sunny smile. “So how does it feel to be back?”
Are these even real questions anymore? I wondered if anyone was ever tempted to say something crazy to spice things up. I could see the headline now: Honey Nut Cheerios Taste Better Eaten Out Of A Shoe, says tight end beleaguered by injuries.
“I couldn’t be happier,” I said simply.
That was actual factual. But right about now, I wanted to get out of there. Handling all the media attention only reminded me of Jesse. And why he was never going to agree to make things real between us.
That didn’t mean I was ready to give up. Somewhere along the way, I’d found what I hadn’t even known I’d been looking for. Media shitstorm or not, I wasn’t going to give him up that easily. As Vaughn answered a question with perfect aplomb—something about sportsmanship and teammates and…well, what the fuck ever—I glanced at my watch.
“Last question, guys,” I said, surprising Vaughn. He was known to answer questions until they got tired of asking them. But I had some shit to do and someplace to be.
It was late, but maybe Jesse was still up. He’d asked for time to think. Not space. That loophole gave me enough wiggle room to see him, even if it was just for a brief hi and a kiss before we went to sleep.
Ugh. I was so far gone I disgusted myself.
Charlie Sparks with ESPN2 already had a question all cued up, one designed to annoy the fuck out of me. “How much of your win do you credit to your training with Blue Montgomery?”
Too bad he didn’t know how grateful I was to Blue. Now that we weren’t in competition for the same spot, I had nothing but mad respect for him.
“Blue is an amazing coach and a mentor of sorts. That’s probably because he’s so much older.” I gave Sparks a lazy grin, scratching my eyebrow with my middle finger. “I can’t thank him enough for coming out of the old folks’ home to help out.”
Easy and light. That got me the laughs I was looking for. I put up with three more are you fucking kidding me questions from people who clearly didn’t understand the phrase “last question, guys.” When someone asked me about my DUI, Vaughn and I simultaneously stood and ended the press junket because nah, we weren’t doing that.
I headed to my locker. The mood in the locker room was upbeat and loud. The guys seemed split into two camps—some couldn’t wait to get out of here, and others wanted to linger and enjoy the win. I was definitely in the former group. I accepted several backslaps and fist bumps before I sat in my locker. I texted Jesse one-handed as I rifled through my bag for sundries. I want to see you.
I waited a few moments, but he didn’t respond. So I hit the showers. I was headed out of the building, my bag over my shoulder, before my phone binged with a text.
Foxy: New phone, who dis?
I chuckled, absently waving goodbye to the security guard. I waited until I was in my truck with the A/C running before I responded.
Me: You’ve been working with kids too long. Did you watch the game
Foxy: No
Me: Lies. Better be lies
Foxy: Fine, I watched. I’d tell you how great you were, but I know you hate a fuss
Me: I love a fuss. You know this. Tell me and tell me slow
Foxy: I’m not storking your ego
Me: Definitely don’t stork it, plz. Whatever the fuck that is
Foxy: Stroke. I meant stroke.
Me: Yes, plz. Double helping of that.
Me: I’m sending you my door code
Me: I want you in my bed naked
Foxy: …..
Me: Make it happen, Foxy
Foxy: Go stork yourself
27
JESSE
Temporary insanity. That’s the only excuse I had for waiting for him in his bed. Naked. I’d even gone a step farther, prepping and lubing myself. That was for me, though. The sooner he opened me up on that thick cock, the better. I’d lain there, flushed to my very toes and feeling very much like a groupie or something…until he came through the door and stopped dead in his tracks.
He looked at me like I was every fantasy he had come to life, which was gratifying. Confusing, but gratifying. Obviously, he needed glasses, but he didn’t give me a chance to tell him so. Instead, he climbed up on the bed and proceeded to blow my mind—and my cock—with that talented mouth. Just as I was about to come, he pulled back. He stripped, quicker than a flash, and I held back any commentary about the purple splotch of a bruise above his ribs. I touched it, gently, and he winced.
“Looks worse than it is.” He moved my hand and kissed my fingers. “Don’t worry about it.”
Me? Not worry? Maybe he should ask me to solve world hunger while I was at it.
I’d prepared myself for a hard and fast ride. But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get this show on the road. He loomed over me, one hand holding my thighs open so he could get a better view. Then he moved his finger slowly in and out of my hole a few times, his gaze intense.
“God, everything about you is pretty,” he murmured. “Even this sweet little hole.”
I didn’t think it was possible to blush harder. I was wrong. “Fuck off.”
He tsked and sent me a wicked little smile. “Is that the attitude of someone who wants to get his pretty little hole fucked? Now I think you should ask me nicely.”
“Ask you….” If my glare could’ve lasered him through, he would’ve been one dead duck. “Let’s just put that on the list of things that aren’t ever gonna happen.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
He looked entirely too confident. But then again so was I…at least I was until his hand dropped down to his cock. He started stroking himself, slow and easy, root to tip and then back down again. He let out a groan as his head fell back. After a few minutes, things got nice and slick and he started working himself over.
I looked at him in dismay. Just what the hell did he think he was doing with my hard-on? And yes, when we were in bed like this, it did belong to me. Every fucking inch of it. When he opened his eyes again, they were a little unfocused, his pupils blown.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I said.
Apparently, he would. He gave my splayed thighs a rude push, spreading them even farther apart. He seemed fixated on my glistening hole and his slow, easy stroke got firmer. Punishing, almost. “You’re about to be shit out of luck,” he informed me roughly.
“I’m getting there.”
“Get there faster.”
“Please,” I finally said through gritted teeth. “Please fuck me.”
I patiently waited for my face to go up in flames, but no such luck. You could, however, cook an egg to sunny-side up perfection on my heated cheeks.
“Fuck, Jess.” He grabbed his balls with a grimace and squeezed, looking like he was in a world of pain. After a moment, he let out a deep breath. “That was close.”
And just like that, the power transferred right into my hot little hands. I’d never been one of those people infatuated with power. I hated telling people what to do almost as much as I hated being told what to do. But at that moment, I could see the appeal. Having even one iota of control over this man was a heady feeling.
“What’s the matter?” I gave him an innocent smile just shy of wicked. “You don’t want to fuck my pretty little—”
He covered my mouth with his big hand, slamming his eyes shut. His mouth moved soundlessly as he counted, trying to hold back. I watched his dick jerking against his stomach, wondering if he’d win the battle.
He finally let out a breath and released my mouth with a wheezy chuckle. “Okay, no more out of you.”
“You did ask,” I said helpfully.
“So did you.” His eyes glinted with something that made my heart race in anticipation. “So maybe I should give you what you asked for.”
Once again, I expected fast and hard. I got slow and easy, his forehead pressed against mine. Every time I tried to speed things up, he slowed back down. At one point, I gripped his muscled ass with both hands and got a good minute of staccato thrusts that felt like heaven on earth. I was a wanton thing, digging my heels in the mattress and bucking on his dick. He took both of my hands in his and pressed them down on the mattress beside my head.
I insisted that he wasn’t giving me what I needed when we both knew he damn well was. I blindly sought his mouth with mine as I came, hard. I cried out, digging my blunt nails into his forearms as my vision went white around the edges. I had no choice but to ride out the wave. He murmured nonsense in my ear the entire time, nonsense that I clung to. You did so good. Love fucking you. Never felt anything like this before.
And when he’d safely guided my landing, he gripped my thighs and fucked me hard. No finesse. Just a race to his finish with his eyes intense on mine, wordlessly daring me to look away. It only took a minute before he followed me over the cliff. He finally broke my gaze, burying his face in my neck and groaning his release. I rubbed my hands over the straining musculature of his back, damp and shaking under my palms.
And then everything was still.
Ambient sound filtered back in and I heard the soft hum of the air conditioner as it kicked on. I was in no hurry to leave our sex bubble. But all things have to come to an end, even indescribably special moments when the world ceases to exist.
He rolled off me with a groan and staggered off the bed. I listened to him move about the bathroom with half an ear. I heard the sound of water as it went on and off a few times. Then a curse as he probably bumped into something.
I lay there and stared up at the ceiling.
I could hear the soft pad of his footsteps as he came back to bed, but I didn’t look until something damp and chilly on my skin made me jump. I blinked to find him standing there with a wet washcloth. A couple of drops of water rolled off my thigh and dampened the sheet.
“Sorry.” He gave me a charming little grin as he continued wiping me down like a big fucking baby. I did my part and pretended it didn’t make me feel special. “The washcloth was warm when I left the bathroom.”
“Well, considering your room is the size of Alaska, that is a trek. Maybe you should put a bathroom on this side, too. You know, for convenience.”
“I’m a simple guy with simple tastes,” he reminded me with a grin, and I chuckled.
“Simple my ass.”
“Speaking of your ass—”
“Can we not—”
“It’s probably pretty sore right about now.” He gave me an expectant look. “I bet a hot bath sounds good right about now, yeah?”
“I’m not a virgin debutante,” I said tartly. Then I winced a little as I moved. “Also, yes.”
He looked eager to do something nice for me, which was pretty much Andrew in a nutshell. I listened to him moving about in the bathroom, reflecting on yet another life lesson learned. There was a time to be a sarcastic asshole and there was a time to soak in a tub that was probably jetted.
Hmph. I could always be an asshole in the tub, though. That’s just smart multitasking, and I’m an efficient kind of guy. Comforted by that thought, I rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
I wasn’t sure how he’d done it so quickly, but it looked romantic…like something you’d see in a movie and think, that kind of shit doesn’t happen in real life. The lights were low and there were honest-to-goodness candles lit on the long, marble vanity. Closer inspection revealed them to be flameless and I wondered how many hookups had gotten the Andrew McAdams romantic bath with candles treatment.
I banished the thought from my mind. Sometimes I felt like the only purpose of the past was to keep me from enjoying the present, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I gave the air a sniff because it smelled like something flowery. Then I cast a glance at the ginormous freestanding tub still filling with water. The top was foamy like he’d put something in there. Something like….
“Bubbles,” I said with a gasp of dismay. “No.”
