Chapter 2 #2
An image of Fisher with his blond hair, tall, and lanky, down on one knee and this petite beauty, laughing, as he slips a ring on her finger, dashes through my mind. The proposal was a ten-second blip among the headline clips from the past week that I’d watched on the flight from LA to Houston.
Shit, that was only a couple of days ago, and he’s now her ex? Her left ring finger is bare. What the hell happened?
I clear my throat, not wanting to be rude and barrage her with questions, but also interested in knowing more. Her eyes open and she twists in the chair to face me, pulling her legs under her.
“After practice, some of the guys were wired for tomorrow’s game, not ready to call it a night. So a bunch of us got together. The wives, girlfriends, and players. We were at the hotel restaurant in a private room. Most people were drinking—not the players and obviously, not me.”
Her fingers work quickly and unravel her bun. Long, wild black hair falls in waves around her oval face.
“Monty went to the restroom… He was gone for a while, and I went to look for him. And guess what? I found him.” Her breath stutters and cheeks darken to an angry shade of red. “I walked in on him with two women in the bathroom.”
“Fuck.” A knot of tension settles between my shoulder blades. “Jane—”
She plows over me. “You know, the weirdest part is, I knew. Deep down, I did. There’d been rumors, things people whispered behind my back, but I shut it all out.
Then, tonight, there was this strange sense of relief when I caught him red-handed.
Or more like bare-assed, his dick thrusting into some woman’s mouth, and his face in another woman’s tits. ”
Sarcasm drips from her words before she releases a harsh, watery laugh.
“I think that’s what it was. I needed to see it with my own eyes.
But more than anything else, I was so angry.
Humiliated, even. How could he do this to me?
Cheat on me. Have a threesome when his teammates and our friends were only feet away.
Anyone could have walked in on them. I’ve been with him since my first year of high school. I’m such an idiot.”
“Why did you stay with him if you knew he was a cheater?” The question is automatic, out of my mouth before my tone hits me, incredulous and maybe even a touch accusing.
“Because I’m a coward. I don’t know who I am without Monty-fucking-Fisher.” Her sharp, rueful smile is further emphasized by the toss of her bag onto the floor.
Its contents scatter, and the diamond solitaire, easily a carat, catches my attention. The ring skips across the wooden floor, and she scoffs and puts her head in her hands when she sees it.
“I should have left him a long time ago.”
Something snaps inside of me, and I drop to my knees in front of her. Witnessing her anguish, though I don’t know her, feels like someone’s wrenching my heart from my chest.
I’ve never had any kind of serious relationship, and contrary to the gossip sites, I’m not a heartless player. I have younger sisters and can’t imagine what I’d do if someone hurt Marin or Fallon like this.
My hands pry hers away from her face, and I gently pinch the tip of her chin, lifting it to make her look at me. “Jane, don’t beat yourself up over that asshole. This isn’t your fault, and it sounds like he did you a favor.”
She tilts her head to the side, brow knitting. “What?”
“He showed you what a douchebag he is. Be grateful you found out now and not after you married him.”
“Oh, God, yes. Now that would be something to cry about.”
A single tear slides down her cheek, and without much thought for any consequence, my thumb wipes it away. She shudders, and I give in to the mounting ache to touch her some more.
My hand takes hers, our fingers interlacing. Against mine, hers is so much smaller. I shouldn’t be surprised—she’s easily a full foot shorter than my six-one and tiny next to me.
She stares at where we’re joined, and once more, I think she’s forgotten to breathe.
I gently squeeze her hand. “Is this okay?”
Nodding, her blue eyes darken and heat by the second. “I’m flying home on Sunday afternoon. I’ll find somewhere to stay tomorrow night.”
Taken aback by her comment, I study her carefully, uncertain why she’s chosen this moment to mention it. Her gaze slowly rakes down my chest and back up to meet my eyes, and she doesn’t bother to hide her appreciation. The spark of desire smolders in her deep blues.
She feels it, too.
This irrepressible attraction.
Heat flares low in my stomach and shoots straight for my groin.
Dammit, if she keeps looking at me like that, I don’t stand a chance of being a gentleman.
I clear my throat and look away for a blink. “You mean tonight, not tomorrow. It’s already Saturday. And you don’t have to go anywhere. Stay until your flight.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got to figure out how to get my things from…from his room. I don’t want to face…” Her words trail off and the moment’s gone.
She stiffens, expression tense and troubled, as if mentally preparing for the inevitable run-in with her ex.
Unexpectedly, I’m overcome with the urge to protect her and maybe something more, something I don’t want to think about.
For sure, I’m consumed with the desire to hunt down Fisher and pound his flesh till he bleeds out.
Standing to my full height, I scoop her into my arms, and she releases a gasp as I sit back into the chair with her soft, warm body now on my lap. A wild strawberry and faint flowery scent fills my nose.
Shivering, she angles her head to look up at me. “Mr. King—um, Roman, what are you doing?”
I tighten my hold, not really sure how to answer. I don’t know what I’m doing, only that I can’t tear my eyes away from her and don’t want to let go. Sure, some of what I’m feeling is lust, but I’ve been attracted to women before and never acted on it.
This is more. I’m driven by a deep-seated need to protect her or more like, to help her. I’ve got all this space and it costs me nothing to share it with her.
My cock pulses under the heat of her tight, little body with a fierce need to be inside her. While I hope she doesn’t notice my growing desire, I’m not strong enough, gentleman enough, to get up and put distance between us.
She shudders again and I point my chin toward the fireplace. “Do you want that on?”
“No, thank you.” A pink flush blooms on her cheeks.
“Are you tired?” Through the silky material of her dress, my thumb rubs small, slow circles along her hip bone, and she slowly settles, releasing the tension she’s holding and sinking into me.
“I was but not anymore. Tonight’s been…”
The unspoken ending to her thought hangs between us. There are so many things she could say, and I wonder what she wants, how I could make tonight end on a better note.
“You can take the bed, and I’ll sleep out here.” My comment contradicts my thoughts. I don’t know why I’m encouraging we separate, but it’s for the best.
As much as I’m enjoying how close we are, how one round, perky tit presses into me, and how well we fit together, if we stay like this much longer, I will lose all self-control.
Her hand lightly grazes my jaw, a tentative yet keen exploration, and that’s it. Something breaks free inside me. One hand cradles the back of her head, my fingers threading through her mass of hair, and the other pulls her to me.
This may be the dumbest thing I’ve done in a long time.
We barely know each other, and I should keep a low profile, not invite any chance of scandal or risk an entanglement with someone who could potentially become infatuated.
More importantly, I should be focusing on business.
But at this moment, I don’t give a fuck.
My mouth crashes onto hers. Surprisingly, Jane doesn’t miss a beat. Her mouth opens, and I hungrily accept the invitation, stroking my tongue against hers, devouring the taste of her and feel of her and becoming more intoxicated with her by the second.