Chapter 2 Ellis #2
“It’s a family business. My dad wants me to get into it.
It should be fine, though. I’m going to prove to him that I’m going to be the best agent ever, even if I was never the jock he wished I would be.
He tried getting me into hockey when I was a kid, you know?
But I was sickly as hell and my mom had to talk him out of it because my body couldn’t take it.
He’s never said it outright, but he’s always been annoyed that his only child—only son—can’t play sports. ”
Damon’s expression melts. I can’t decipher it at all. “You’re not serious.”
“Yes, but no need to look at me like that. I’m incredible at other stuff. I’m good with reading people and I’m good with getting what I want. That would make me an amazing agent, yes?”
“That’s true,” he says, and I don’t miss the way his mouth quirks.
“Wait.” I pull back, blinking at him. Now that I know what he does, a name from earlier tonight makes its way to the forefront of my brain. Something doesn’t make sense here. “If you’re a sports agent, why haven’t you signed Westley Harrison? He won’t sign even with one of his best friends?”
“I never considered him a lead since he’s my friend.” Damon runs his fingers through my hair, scraping his nails against my scalp. “Besides, Westley will never leave his current team. He’d never leave Vaughn behind.”
“Vaughn…” I go through the messy mental notes in my brain. “First-line defenseman of the Rockets. He and Westley have been playing together since middle school.”
“They’re so into each other, and all of us know it but them. If Westley ever signed with an agent, he’d only do it if Vaughn came along for the ride.”
Interesting.
I definitely tuck that information away for later.
Damon continues to stroke my hair, massaging my temple until my eyes flutter close. A small relaxed sigh escapes me. It urges him on, his fingers pressing deeper, stroking at the right spot.
“That feels nice,” I say.
He hums in reply.
And… I’ve decided we’ve rested long enough. I slip a hand between us, wrap it around his cock, and a thrill runs down my spine when he sucks in a breath.
“Looks like someone’s up again,” I say, grinning. “Let’s do something else that feels nice. Again.”
Damon gives me a mischievous grin. “Deal, sweetheart.”
***
I wake up to sunlight hitting my face, and I groan—why the hell did I forget to close the curtains, especially since the guest room in Dad’s stupid penthouse faces the morning sun? I drag myself off the king-size bed, making a whole show of it because of how my limbs are killing me.
Damon says he’s a former athlete, and it wasn’t only his body that proved it—his goddamn stamina did, too. By the third time I came, I had tears running down my face. I think it was close to 4 a.m. when we both finally passed out.
I’m about to head to the shower when I hear someone make a disgruntled sound, and I snap my head to the other side of the bed.
Oh.
Damon’s still here.
He’s lying on his front, naked, and his dark hair’s a mess. He’s got small purplish bruises all over his neck and shoulders—courtesy of me. God, he looks so good, especially under the bright lights.
Even if I expected him to be gone by now, maybe he’d… want to go another round? My body’s sore, but we could go at it slowly. I could ride him and set my own pace. Or we could suck each other off.
I only do one-night stands, and I made that clear enough last night, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t do one more for the road.
And maybe more than that…
Because nobody’s ever fucked me as good as he did, and the idea of giving my number for more repeat performances is very appealing now.
I might even take him up on his offer to go on a date.
“Ellis!” shouts a familiar voice from outside, and I jump in surprise.
Why’s Dad here?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I curse under my breath.
My heart races as I gape at Damon, who’s still asleep despite Dad’s yelling.
This is okay. This is fine. I could sneak him out later when Dad’s in his office or in his room.
I pull my shirt and jeans on in record time.
“Stay here!” I hiss at Damon, as if he’d even hear me while he’s in what I can only define as a deep hibernation. Quickly, I head out, shutting the door behind me and rushing to Dad who’s pouring himself water in the open kitchen.
“Ellis, hello,” Dad says, smiling.
“Y-you said you wouldn’t be back until next week.”
“I wanted to be here on your first day.” He arcs a brow at me. “Speaking of, you should get ready. It’s almost office hours and I’d really appreciate it if my own son weren’t late on his first day.”
“Yes. Okay!” I say, voice too high-pitched.
He gives me a suspicious look, and I run my hand down my face. Breathe in, breathe out. He has no idea you’ve got a hot, naked guy in the guest room.
“I’ll ask Heather to get you up to speed on how we do things,” Dad says. “The Rockets have a game today. You should go watch them, see if any players catch your eyes. You at least know who the Rockets are, right?”
“Yes, Dad,” I say dryly.
He nods. “That’s good.”
So patronizing. I swear that even if he’s the one who’s been forcing me to come work for him, he doesn’t believe in me at all. It makes my blood simmer and gives me the sudden urge to prove him wrong.
“Westley Harrison’s contract with the Rockets is ending soon, he’ll be eligible for free agency, and he’s unsigned,” I blurt out.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Westley Harrison refuses to leave the Rockets.”
“He might if Vaughn was coming, too.”
“Vaughn…?” he repeats.
“They’ve been playing together since middle school and they seem really tight. Maybe Westley’s afraid of going out of his comfort zone and might be interested if Vaughn was coming along for the ride.”
“You… wow, you’ve actually been paying attention, I see.
Yes, they’ve been playing together forever.
” Dad stands taut, studying me. Maybe he thinks aliens have kidnapped me, because did all that actually just come out of me?
“You’re right, and coincidentally, even if Vaughn’s not as sought out as Westley, there are also many teams eyeing him.
If we tried to sign them on as a package deal…
Hmm, I think you’re onto something here, Son.
They could be your first leads, ever. Yeah, that sounds right.
They could both be your first deals.” His eyebrows suddenly furrow, and his attention snaps to something over my shoulder. “Damon? Why are you here?”
What the?
My heart drops to my stomach. I turn around abruptly, only to find Damon standing there with a baffled expression. He’s haphazardly pulled his clothes on, the buttons mismatched, and he’s barefoot.
“Mr. Donlan,” Damon says, eyes narrowing. There’s an edge to his voice. It’s nothing like the kind and soft one from last night.
I gape. “Why the hell do you know each other?”
Dad lets out an exasperated groan and shakes his head. “Are you kidding me, Ellis? You haven’t even been to work yet and you’ve already slept with one of my agents?”
“One of—one of your agents?”
“Sorry, Mr. Donlan. I didn’t know who he was.” Damon glares at me. “Excuse me. I need to head to work.”
“Wait, Damon!”
Dad turns away from us, rambling, “No wonder there were so many goddamn shoes by the elevator.”
Damon brushes past me, his shoulder knocking against mine hard enough to make me stumble. I rush after him, following him to the hallway that leads to the elevator. He shoves his shoes on and slams the down button hard.
“Are you angry because you slept with your CEO’s son?” I whisper loudly, hoping Dad can’t hear us. “How was I supposed to know? There’s got to be about a couple dozen agencies in Tampa alone…”
He turns around slowly. Damon stands a foot away from me, his eyebrows furrowed and his hands flat at his sides.
His lips are slightly parted and his chest steadily rises and falls.
He doesn’t look angry. If anything, he seems defeated.
He’s looking at me the way athletes do when they accept they’re in a game they can’t win.
“Why did you tell him about Westley?” he asks, voice low. “Westley’s one of my best friends, and even I never used that information for my own benefit. Jesus Christ, Ellis. Who are you to tell people about Westley’s private life?”
My eyebrows crunch together. That’s the issue here? “I said they’ve been together since middle school. That’s it. Even Dad already knew that. I didn’t say anything that anybody didn’t already know.”
“You didn’t know.”
“And? I didn’t spill any secrets,” I counter. “You gave me an idea, and I ran with it. It’s not like I knew you worked for Dad.” That makes me pause, and I blink at him slowly. Wait. “Are you angry because I accidentally stole your lead? I’ll fix this. I’ll tell Dad that it was your idea, and—”
“No,” he interrupts. The elevator dings and the doors open. “I told you my friends were never a lead to me, because it would have been shitty of me to use insider information like that on them.”
“For him,” I correct. “For them, actually. This is a good thing for both of them. Think of what’s going on here. Statistically, they’re both—”
“My friends aren’t statistics. It’s backhanded and I hate it when agents use private details about a player’s life to manipulate them.”
“What? That is not what is happening here.”
He studies me for a long while. The elevator doors start to close, and he holds it open without looking.
‘This is my fault,” he murmurs, looking away. “If I knew who you were, I wouldn’t have said anything. Thought I was just talking about my friends to a cute guy.”
My chest clenches. Shit.
“I was going to give you my number,” I mumble, because it’s the fucking truth. “I was going to see if you still wanted to go on that date you were talking about.”
Damon lets out a tiny snort that only makes my insides hurt even more. Where the hell is the man I was with last night? Who even is this?
“Sorry,” he mumbles. Stepping back into the elevator, he lets go of the door. “This is my deal breaker.”
Last night, Damon looked at me—a stranger—with so much warmth. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me, and he did.
As the elevator closes, now, there’s nothing but emptiness in his eyes.