30. Oakley
CHAPTER THIRTY
oakley
5 MONTHS LATER
“The Nashville Notes are playoff bound due to Corbin Shearer having his best season since entering the league. They’ll be playing against the Dallas Rattlers and his former Stallion teammate John “The Godfather” Basilio on Monday. Corbin, how does it feel to not only be the captain of this team but also the leader in every offensive category?”
I watch the live feed on the television outside the locker room. Corbin has a towel thrown over his naked shoulder as Erin Jasser, sports reporter, holds the microphone in his face. He shakes his head, looking sexy as hell and tunneling his fingers through his hair. It’s shaggy and wet as water droplets fall to his chest. When Corbin’s chest is littered with water beads is when my mind always, and I mean always, goes to sex.
“I’m looking forward to playing Basilio. He made a quick trip in for my wedding reception, and he’ll always be one of my best friends, but when we play, friendship doesn’t cross my mind until the buzzer sounds. I’m going to enjoy this win with my wife tonight and tomorrow, then the team will focus on the Rattlers. I want to thank the fans for supporting the team, and we hope to see you in Dallas.”
He's a professional in every sense of the word. The game is intense as the teams traded the lead a couple of times.
The players trickle out, and Corbin is the last one through the door. His head is down, pinching his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Mamaw called to congratulate me.”
“Why are you upset?”
Enclosing me with his arms, he kisses the crown of my head and says, “She sounded different. There was a gurgle in her voice.”
“Maybe she’s got a cold.”
I hear the worry in his voice and in the pressure of his hug. “Come on, Sugarbear. I’ll make you feel better.” I laugh, using the nickname his Mamaw gave him. He doesn’t laugh or speak, so I pull away and say, “Do you want me to call her back? Mamaw would not want you to worry. She would want you to celebrate. Winnie invited us to go to the 629, the new dance club, and we’re going.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
He sighs and mumbles, “I really want to go home and veg on the couch.”
“Well, I wanted to keep my job so we’re even.”
“No fair. You did keep your job. You just do it from home.”
He’s right. My client, Marisol, has become a breakout star since I did her hair before her audition. So now, I have a salon out of our house where I style hair for the WAGS, country music stars like Lettie and now Marisol. It’s strictly word of mouth because Corbin has issues with people he doesn’t know in our house, wanting to make sure Dixie and I are safe when he’s out of town.
He’s had a girl stalking him this year, and she’s been jailed twice. He pressed charges the last time, but she was out within forty-eight hours.
When we get to the club, the bouncer removes the velvet rope at the VIP entrance, letting us through as fans in line yell Corbin’s name.
Adam and Winnie wave from a small VIP section. “Hey!” Winnie jumps up and hugs me as Adam and Corbin give each other a fist bump and immediately talk about the game. Only minutes pass until they’re talking about the black lab Adam and Winnie adopted from the shelter. Adam brings him over to play with Dixie all the damn time.
Of course, I love it because it’s more time to spend with our friends, cooking dinner, ordering pizzas, and just hanging out.
“A round of champagne for the winners and the most valuable players of the game,” I cheer.
“Baby, they didn’t name an MVP. It was a team effort.”
“Bullshit. You and Adam carried the team on your backs, in my humble opinion.”
“You're biased,” he says, pulling me down onto his lap. “But I love you.”
“I love you, but can we have one glass of champagne?” I stick my bottom lip out, acting like I’m pouting. He can’t resist my bottom lip, loving to nibble on it and cuddle it between his. It’s kind of our thing.
“You can have as much as you want, but I’ll only have one glass. Just order a bottle.”
I walk over to the VIP waitress and order. She asks, “Just one?”
“Just one. But can you also bring a bucket of bottled waters?”
“Will do.”
I sit back on my husband’s lap, and we exchange a few kisses. They’re soft pecks and gentle sucks under my ear, but I can feel the chemical change in my body making me want more. When the champagne comes, the waitress pours us each a glass and sets the bottle on ice.
“Cheers to making new friends on a new team, making the playoffs and having the best damn wives in the league,” Adam says in his Irish accent.
I down my drink and hold my hands up in victory. “Cheers to the best wives. Now let's go dance.”
I tug Corbin out to the dance floor. It’s techno music, which is not really our thing, but he needs to be cheered up. His Mamaw is one of the most important people in his life, and I believe that he senses something is off. But for now, he’s going to have some fun.
When he stands up, I admire his ass in his tight gray dress pants and his crisp lavender button down. The color looks amazing on his naturally tanned skin and those Hershey chocolate eyes.
“Just move with me. Follow my lead.” I turn my back to his chest, swaying from side to side. He places his hands on my hips and moves with me. After a while, he spins me to face him, and we grind, but no one can tell since we’re packed in like sardines.
He runs his hand up my thigh and under my ass. “If I would have met you earlier, I would have never left a bar alone. I would have chosen you every single night.”
Corbin Shearer knows just what to say to get my panties off. I drag him outside to the car and say, “We didn’t quite finish my bucket list item.”
“Right here. Right now?” he asks with a wink and a smile.
He takes my little strip of panties off in the parking lot, then we slide into the truck. Grabbing me by the waist, he takes himself out of his pants and strokes us both. The windows fog, our bodies sweat, and our love continues to grow.