Dream Girl Drama (Big Shots #3)

Chapter Sixteen

Chloe was on the floor of her bedroom rubbing Pierre’s belly and repeatedly calling him a g’boy when her phone started ringing. When she saw it was Grace calling, she hopped to her feet and cleared her throat, wanting to be alert and professional for the conversation.

The one where she informed her mentor she was going to give her all to the harp.

No more getting by on natural talent. She was ready for the hard work—the kind it would take to step in and occupy first chair once it had been vacated by Grace. Honestly, Chloe had expected to be terrified knowing the grueling practice that lay ahead, but now that she’d made the decision to swing for the fences, something inside of her had settled. Locked into focus. The strong sense of purpose in her bones, her fingertips, made Chloe wonder if she’d been putting off something she secretly wanted for a long time.

Greatness on her own terms. Not just a showpiece or an object to gloat about... but a member of a company. This was her chance to find out what she could achieve on her own.

Well. Almost on her own. Her mentor was going to play a huge role.

“Hi, Grace,” Chloe answered, standing in the middle of the living room now. “I’m so glad you called. I’ve made my decision—”

“Have you been getting busy with your stepbrother? Yes or no.”

The room started to spin, black bleeding into the edges of her vision.

A weight pressed down on the center of her chest, growing heavier, heavier, until she had to struggle to breathe. “What?”

“Yes or no.”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Chloe melted down to the floor, ending in a cross-legged position, one arm strapped tightly over her middle to keep the contents from spilling out. “I-I... I’m sorry, I don’t understand where this is coming from.”

“Someone sent me a Globe article titled ‘Stepsister Goes Above and Beyond?’” Wind started to rush in Chloe’s ears, her mind flashing back to the most recent home game. The reporter. The way he’d questioned her about her relationship with Sig. How had she forgotten about him? “There is a lot of snark in that question mark, by the way. Not to mention meaning. And these two pictures of you giving him googly eyes? Goddamn it, Chloe. I can’t be attached to this kind of thing.”

The floor had dropped out from beneath her. She was free-falling. “It’s not what it seems. We’re not...” What? In love? Planning to spend the night in bed, finally giving in to the plague of constant lust? How could she deny something that was very clearly true? Outwardly and inwardly. Her attention locked on the door, begging Sig to walk through it . Help me. “Our parents are getting married in two months. We’re realistic about what that means... for us.”

“And in the meantime?” Grace sputtered.

“He’s my best friend. He’s...” Chloe dragged her knees up toward her chest. “I don’t have a word to describe him.”

“How about ‘The most perfect human on earth.’ That’s how you described him to me the day we met.” Grace let out a long exhale. “You’re in love with him?”

A call came in on the other line.

Sig.

Oh God, he must have seen the article.

What was he thinking? Had she been quoted? What pictures had been included?

Did she end the call with Grace and answer? So she and Sig could get their story straight? Did they need a story when they hadn’t technically done anything wrong?

“That about answers my question,” Grace said dryly.

Hot pinpricks speared the backs of Chloe’s eyelids. “I haven’t seen the article yet. I just need some time to figure out what’s being said—”

“So you can figure out how to lie to me? Chloe, I’m sorry. You’re megatalented and I like you, despite your manic pixie dream girl energy. But this is my career on the line, too. I have to dip before this gets worse.”

“You’re dropping me,” Chloe breathed.

The line going dead was her answer.

Chloe covered her mouth with her hand, the silence in the apartment somehow ear-piercingly loud. She was still staring at the door, waiting for Sig, but the frame blurred now, her heart hammering in her chest.

The phone rang again in her hand.

She answered. “Sig.”

“Chloe,” he said thickly.

That was it. Enough to know they’d both been made aware of the article.

Made aware they’d been caught being in love.

“Are you coming over?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” Her whole body sort of heaved forward at the news she wouldn’t see him imminently. She’d been dropped by Grace. Now Sig was going to abandon her too. “I think we should meet somewhere else,” he finished, his truck door slamming in the background.

Relief bloomed in her chest like a wildflower and she cradled the phone more securely to her face, as if it was Sig’s hand. How could she have doubted him for a second? “Oh. I thought you were going to say you couldn’t see me anymore.”

“That’s not funny, Chloe.”

“I wasn’t making a joke.”

“I’ll be dead and buried before I stay away from you.”

“Likewise,” she whispered. “That’s why we’re in this mess.”

A blown-out breath. “Yeah.”

The fact that Sig didn’t immediately reassure her that said mess could be fixed caused Chloe’s stomach to turn inside out. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

“I’m going to send you an address. Have an Uber bring you there. It’s a twenty-minute ride. I just think... I don’t know. Let’s get some distance from your place. If you think someone is following you, turn around and go back.”

“Okay.” She climbed to her feet and started toward her bedroom, alarmed by the lack of sensation in her legs. The way her apartment suddenly looked like a foreign land. “What is the address for?”

“A hotel.” Those two gruff words caressed her ear. “There’s a guaranteed chance I’m about to make this situation worse, but I decided this morning that I was going to fuck you tonight, Chloe. There’s no going back. I need you underneath me so bad, my stomach is in knots right now. I need you more now that what we have is being threatened, okay? You walk into that hotel room, do it knowing you’re going to end the night moaning my fucking name.”

She paused out of necessity on the threshold of her bedroom, her whole body racked with a hot shiver. “I want that. I’ve wanted that for six months.”

“Get here, then. Get to me. ” Traffic whirred on his end of the line, the revving engine of his truck. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay first, baby. But I can’t keep going like this. No more. Everything aches for you.”

Had she ever heard him this raw and honest before?

Is this what he’d been holding back?

Sig had always been wildly potent, but this side of him?

Her Uber driver was going to wonder why she was sweating.

“I’ll be out the door in five minutes.” A snarfing noise almost caused Chloe to jump out of her skin. Pierre waded into her bedroom with a bored expression and plopped onto his hiney. “Oh! I’ll have to bring Pierre.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Sig, you’re going to make him feel unwanted. Does the hotel allow dogs?”

“They’re going to tonight, whether they like it or not. I’m not accepting any delays.”

“See? Listen to you. You’re going to be a great Bearcats captain.”

He didn’t speak for so long, she started to worry, but before she could ask why he’d gone quiet, he spoke. “I’ll text you the room number.”

“Okay.” She rolled out a carry-on suitcase from her closet and heaved it one-handed onto the bed. “See you soon.”

A few seconds passed. “Fuck. I don’t want to get off the phone with you.”

“I don’t, either. But I’ll move faster if you’re not distracting me with your sexy voice.”

“You think my voice is sexy?”

“Yes! Have I never told you that?”

“No.” He paused. “What’s sexy about it?”

“Everything. It’s so deep and gruff. You make every word sound like its dripping in chocolate.” Cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder, Chloe retrieved her sexiest underwear, a nightshirt, and a change of clothes from her dresser, throwing them unceremoniously into the suitcase. “Do you think my voice is sexy?”

“The sexiest. Especially when it’s shouting obscenities at the refs.” He made a low noise. “I’m going to make it sound even better, though.”

Heat rolled slowly from her nipples to her core, tightening muscles along the way. “How are you going to do that?”

“By making you scream until it’s hoarse.”

“Off topic,” she whispered, openly shaking now, her skin flushed. “I might have to spend some time with my vibrator before I call that Uber.”

“Don’t you dare , Chloe. Stay on the edge with me.”

She bit her lip until it hurt. “I can’t even see the edge anymore.”

“Keep. Packing. If I hear any buzzing, you’re in serious trouble. You wet? Good. Stay that way until I’ve got a good, rough stroke going and your legs kicking on the bed.” She heard his fist rap against the steering wheel. “Goddamn it, Chloe. I’m so hot for you. I don’t know how I’m going to walk through the lobby with my cock this hard.” His exhale was rocky. “Come take care of me, dream girl. Come get taken care of.”

“I’m coming.”

“Not yet. I mean it.”

She laughed, but it was a blustery sound. A desperate, yearning one. She tapped the screen to put the call on speakerphone, tossed it on the bed, and finished running around, adding toiletries and supplies for Pierre to her suitcase, zipping it shut, and ordering the Uber while listening to Sig’s measured breaths on the other end of the line.

“I’m out the door,” she said, leash in one hand, suitcase handle in the other.

“Okay.” He sighed. “I guess I better hang up. I don’t want you doing something inappropriate to yourself in the back of the Uber.”

“Let me tell you, it’s not that far-fetched.” She walked out of her building, spotted the black sedan rounding the corner of her block. “My car is already here.”

“Check the license plate, Chlo.”

“I am.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank God.”

They hung up—and after a brief argument with the driver over transporting Pierre—they were off. Ten minutes into the ride, a text from Sig came through.

Room 1125.

And somehow she knew she’d remember that number for the rest of her life.

Boston traffic must have known how badly she needed to reach Sig, because it cooperated for once, her ride taking her north toward Medford while Pierre dozed beside her in the back seat, blissfully unaware that his new owner was about to realize a dream six months in the making, even if one of her newer aspirations had just been moved outside of her reach. She didn’t want to think about it now. She just wanted to get to him, lose herself, be absorbed. Absorb him in return. Finally. Finally. They were finally going to break the rules and her body knew it was coming, turning her flesh sensitive, her nipples to peaks, her inner thighs flexed. Ready.

As soon as she pulled up to the hotel, she knew it wasn’t the type that allowed dogs.

It was way too nice.

She’d have to be creative.

“Would you happen to have a luggage cart?” she asked the bellhop while the Uber driver removed her suitcase from the trunk.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He wheeled over the cart, an eyebrow ticking up at her one, tiny piece of luggage.

“Oh, I’m so thirsty!” She tapped her throat, gave an exaggerated cough. “I think I’m... yes, I’m going to choke.”

“There are bottles of water in the lobby, ma’am. I’ll get one for you.”

“Thank you,” she said weakly.

When the bellhop disappeared through the automatic doors on his way into the lobby, Chloe hustled a resistant Pierre out of the Uber, groaning while lifting him onto the luggage cart and covering him quickly with her jacket while the driver shook his head in disapproval.

“There’s a thirty percent tip in it for you to keep quiet.”

“I ain’t no snitch,” he drawled, climbing back into the driver’s side.

“Sit, Pierre. Stay.” The bulldog remained perfectly stationary. “G’boy. Such a g’boy!”

The automatic doors opened and out flew the bellhop, holding a bottle of water out to Chloe, which she took and sipped while squeezing his forearm gratefully. “Thank you! Oh my goodness, that’s so much better.”

He nodded. “Would you like me to take the cart to your room?”

“Oh no, I always wheel my own luggage.” She took a twenty-dollar bill out of her wallet and pushed it into his hands. “It’s a habit of mine. I’ll take it myself.”

“Okay...” he said, nonplussed. “The elevators are to the right of reception.”

“Thank you.”

Chloe wheeled the luggage cart containing one, little suitcase—and a mysterious lump—through the upscale lobby, smiling at everyone she passed in the hopes of either distracting them from the twitching animal beneath her coat... or convincing them to keep their mouths shut. Luckily, she sailed into an empty elevator and tapped the button for floor eleven without incident, melting back against the wall once the doors were closed.

Two minutes later, she was standing in front of room 1125.

She knocked, her adrenaline spiking when she heard the footsteps approaching, her heart booming like cannon fire in her chest. Palms sweating. And then, there he was. Sig.

Gorgeous and stressed out. In dress clothes—a glorious rarity.

His hair was wrecked from his fingers, hands gripping the doorframe like he might rip it off at any given moment. Eyes starved as they roamed over her body. Her face.

Down to the lump on the luggage cart.

“That’s the dog, isn’t it?”

“I improvised.”

His mouth ticked up into a roguish half smile, his hand dropping from the doorframe. He didn’t take his eyes off Chloe as he wheeled the cart into the room and uncovered the dog with a flourish, shaking his head when he revealed the dog was fast asleep. “Kind of fitting, isn’t it?” Sig said, pacing back toward Chloe slowly, taking her wrist and drawing her into a big, beautiful, half-lit suite. Firmly pushing her up against the wall and sandwiching her there. Hard. Taking her face in his hands and tilting it up. “The night we met, you snuck me into the country club.” He settled his mouth on top of hers, inhaling deeply, both of them exhaling in an identical, savoring way. Savoring each other. The fact that they were together. Alone. No rules. Their problems were equally present and far away, but they tac itly agreed to ignore them. Ignore everything but each other for now. Just for now, while it was dark and no one knew where they were. “Now here you are, sneaking a dog into a hotel the night I make you mine. I’m detecting a pattern.”

Chloe gave a slight headshake. “I’ve been yours for a long time.”

“It’ll never be long enough.” He dragged his lips side to side against hers. “Ten thousand years wouldn’t be enough.” He searched her eyes. “Are you okay?”

In her haste to reach him, she’d managed somewhat to put the article out of her mind, but the worry in his expression brought it all back, reminding her they were under scrutiny now. “Yes.” She wet her lips. “How did you find out about the article?”

“At the meeting tonight. There’s a new general manager. She—”

“She?” Chloe’s lips twitched. “Cool.”

“Yeah.”

When he didn’t continue, she reached up to stroke the sides of his face, her chest nearly bursting when he turned into her palm, rubbing his cheek there. “What happened?”

He closed his eyes. Shook his head. Pressed closer to her, as if pinning her in place would keep her from disappearing. Stop what was happening to them.

“Sig,” she prompted again, dread prodding her in the side.

“They won’t offer me a contract because of this. Because of us. How it would look to the public. How it would reflect on the team. They want me to stay away from you, but I can’t fucking do it. I won’t.” He opened his mouth against her neck, kissing her pulse, dragging his lips higher to her ear. “Sweden is sounding pretty good about now.”

Devastation peeled like a bell inside of Chloe. Denial. “Sig. I... I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this is happening.” She gathered all her strength and pushed against his chest. “You want that contract, that captain spot more than anything.”

“ Wrong. I want you more.”

“If getting it means staying away from me, that’s what you have to do.”

“Absolutely not,” he growled.

“ Sig. ”

“What was it you said about wanting to feel a man’s weight on top of you?” He dragged her into a kiss. A hot, thorough one, his tongue licking in and killing every single protest in its infancy, his hands on her bare legs now, yanking up the hem of her skirt while he worked her mouth in the perfect distraction. Those big, calloused hands slid up the backs of her thighs to clutch her backside roughly, kneading her cheeks in his hands and lifting her up, moaning into her mouth. “Get those pretty thighs around me. You’re about to feel my weight.”

Chloe’s legs moved on command, circling his hips, gasping at the outline of his erection against the mound of her sex. “We’re going to talk about... all of this... later,” she managed.

“Not until I’ve come inside of you,” he rasped, walking her into the suite. Through a dark living area and into a lamplit bedroom, downtown Boston a distant blue-and-white outline in the window. “Not until I know how you sound at the end. When my cock is getting so thick we can’t take another stroke.” Sig lay her down on the bed, following her, flattening her hard on the mattress—and she nearly screamed over the concentration of the ripple passing through her. “Oh fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad.”

“Me too.” She gasped as he shifted his hips, their clothing rasping in the silent room. “All of your weight. All of it.”

“You want some more? Take it. Like I said, I’m not stopping until your thighs melt.” He shoved her knees up toward her shoulders, shuddering into a rake of mouths, a grinding of flesh. “Can I be rough with you tonight, Chloe?” he panted, sipping at the seam of her lips. “Gentle isn’t how I feel about you.”

Tingles were racing to the crown of her head. “How do you feel?”

“Choked up. Possessive. Like my goddamn blood is on fire.” He wrapped her hair in a fist and tugged her head back, groaning against the length of her exposed throat, razing her sensitive skin with his bared teeth. “I need to fuck my girl. Now. ”

Chloe abandoned any remaining thought or care or worry, exchanging them for immediate needs. Necessities. And Sig was her only one. She licked the line of his jaw and latched her teeth to his ear, satisfied when his breath caught, his shaft swelling against her sex.

“Rip off my panties and finally fuck me then.”