Chapter 28
MADDOX
“How does it feel to grab your second straight win?” the reporter asks Bentley, his recorder lifted. With his eyes wide and lips parted with excitement, it’s like he’s on the edge of his seat to receive the same answer we always give these guys when they ask stupid questions.
Bentley gives the guy a tired smile. “Feels great. It’s what we came out to do tonight.”
We’re all exhausted and antsy to get the fuck out of here. Most of the guys are going out to celebrate, but I have other plans. Much more important ones.
Our press manager, Penny, gives the go-ahead to another reporter, and I swallow back a curse when I see a familiar woman stand. I’ve already forgotten her name, and I curse myself out for that too. I should have looked her up or something after last time.
Alexander was clear that when it came to the press, I wasn’t to sit in on the post-game interviews until Braxton and I had made progress with our fake relationship, so this is the first time I’ve been back since before Roy’s story broke.
With the chatter focused more on my new relationship, we hope that it will take the attention away from all of his other claims.
“Rose Carpenter from Sports Weekly,” she says before holding out a long, skinny arm, recorder in hand. “Maddox, do you have an update on your contract?”
Annoyance bubbles in my blood. I roll out a long breath and stare at her, my gaze intense with the hope of making her squirm. I lick the back of my teeth before I speak.
“No. Not at the moment.”
“You have fans nervous. Do you not have anything to give them? At all?” Her return is quick, like she was expecting me not to have an answer for her.
“The fans know I love Vancouver and that I love them.”
“Right. So, you have nothing, then? I’m sure you know that suspicions are growing.”
I thin my eyes, leaning forward with my elbows on the table. With a rough swipe of my hand over my beard-covered jaw, I say, “Rumours. Not suspicions. We’ll be ready to share before next season starts. That’s all I can say.”
“What about the rumours about you and Roy Heights’ daughter? Do you have anything to say? Can you confirm or deny the speculations that you’re in a relationship?”
“Her name is Braxton. And yes, we are together.”
Rose’s eyes flare with something I immediately don’t like at the confirmation. It’s the look of someone who’s desperate for a story.
“And her father’s allegations? Is it true you have anger issues? Do you take drugs?”
Like a fucking dog with a scent, this one.
“Next question. And keep it on topic. This isn’t a damn gossip circle,” Penny snaps, and I release a breath when another reporter stands, asking Bentley about his three assists tonight.
My eyes wander to the door as I debate making a run for it, knowing Braxton is on the other side of it, waiting for me to take her home. To my home.
The next few minutes drag as my excitement to get her out of here builds and builds, leaving my anger at this Rose Carpenter to sizzle out.
I’ve made a mental note to research the hell out of her as soon as possible, and hopefully, I can find something that I can use to get her banned from further interviews.
As soon as the interviews come to an end, I’m out of my seat, a fire under my ass.
I give Bentley a grin as I pass him, and the wink he sends me says he knows exactly where I’m going and why I’m in such a rush.
We haven’t really had time to chat about everything that’s happened recently, and I want to fix that as soon as possible.
He’s been a really good friend to me over the past few years, and I know guys like him don’t come around often enough.
The crowd moves slowly out the doors, and as soon as I break through, I’m searching for Braxton in the hallway.
With a harsh exhale, I find her waiting by one of the big windows that look out to the street behind the arena.
She has her hands tapping her outer thighs as she rocks forward on her tiptoes and then falls back to her heels.
Every time she falls back, I watch her perfect, peach-shaped ass bounce, wishing I had it gripped in my hands.
She has no idea how sexy she is, and that is a fucking crime.
“I’ve never wanted to be out of this arena as badly as I do right now,” I say, stepping up behind her and dropping my arms over her shoulders.
She melts into me, rolling her head to the side and looking up at me through thick black lashes. My heart thumps in my chest, probably right against her cheek.
“Are you tired? You played amazing out there.”
I dip my head and lift her chin with a gentle touch of my finger before pressing our lips together. It’s a soft caress of our mouths, a tease of what I hope tonight brings. I graze her bottom lip with my teeth before forcing myself to pull back.
“Thank you, baby. And no, I’m not tired at all. Wide awake, actually,” I rumble.
Her lips tug at the corners. “Well then, take me to your place. I’m feeling very snoopy and want to see everything you didn’t want to show me the first time I was over. Underwear drawer included.”
She attempts a wink, and it might just be the most adorable thing I have ever seen. The way both of her eyes close, one just a beat behind the other one, has my stomach in my throat.
“Let’s go, then, Snoopy,” I croak, spinning her in my arms so we’re face to face, chest to chest.
“The happy couple! Would you mind answering a few questions for Sports Weekly?”
Rose Carpenter’s voice has my entire body tensing. I keep my eyes on Braxton and watch as her brows furrow, and she shifts and looks behind me.
“I’m assuming she’s talking to us?” she asks.
I nod. “That reporter has a set of balls on her.”
“What do you want to do? She’s walking over here right now.”
“She has questions about us and your father. Just don’t answer unless you absolutely want to. She can’t make you say anything. They’re not supposed to do this here,” I mutter.
I wait for her to give me some sort of acknowledgment, and when she nods, I spin around, keeping her behind me. But when she shifts to my side, I know it was a long shot keeping her out of this.
Rose wears determination like a fucking second skin, but it’s the furthest thing from admirable.
The more I’m seeing this woman, the more of a problem she’s becoming.
Outside of the press room, we’re off limits.
It’s an unwritten rule that the press follows, and I’m not impressed in the slightest that this new girl seems to lack the respect it takes to follow it.
“I don’t have anything else to say. If you want to ask more questions, come to our game in Arizona on Saturday,” I bark.
She doesn’t falter beneath my harsh tone. If anything, it seems to excite her. “Braxton Heights, I’m Rose Carpenter. I know your father.”
And there it is.
“Hi. Sports Weekly, right?”
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rose offers Braxton her hand, but Braxton reaches for my hand and links our fingers instead.
“You work for the site that published my father’s story, correct?”
“Yes. It was a big story for us,” Rose confirms.
“I see. Now, do you always publish such bogus stories, or did he simply make you an offer you couldn’t refuse? If it was money, I wonder how many zeros it took for you to write something so bold with no proof to back you up.”
I choke on air, staring at her with flashing hearts in my eyes.
“And coming up to players after they already spent forty minutes giving post-game interviews isn’t that admirable. I don’t spend much time around these types of things, but even I know that isn’t protocol,” she finishes, all sass and confidence.
My cock swells in my track pants, and I’m about thirty seconds away from being rock hard in the middle of this hallway, where damn near anybody could see.
Suddenly desperate to get the hell out of here, I tug on Braxton’s hand and shift her to my front, letting her feel exactly what her words have done to me.
Her sharp inhale is barely audible, but I catch it.
And when she pushes back against me ever so slightly, I bite my tongue to keep a groan from escaping.
“We’re leaving. I hope you got what you came here for,” I blurt out.
Then with rushed steps, we leave Rose standing there, neither of us looking back.
I park the truck and release the breath I’ve been holding for the past ten minutes.
My grip on Braxton’s thigh is tight, way too tight, but the heat against my pinky has me on the edge of losing control, and the handful of flesh is the only thing keeping me grounded.
I don’t know how my hand travelled so high or how I’ve managed to spend most of the drive with my pinky tracing the seam of her jeans right over her goddamn pussy, but I am, and I can’t seem to pull back.
Neither of us spoke a single word on the way home, but we didn’t need to. The crackling tension around us spoke volumes.
There is no doubt in my mind that we’re thinking about the exact same thing. The thin fabric of my track pants does little to hide my throbbing cock, and I would have to be a blind man not to have caught her wandering eyes more than once during the drive.
Her breaths are as shaky as mine. As uneven and stressed. The flush on her neck and cheeks and even her ears has me wondering how pink and warm she is everywhere else.
Fuck.
I release my grip on the steering wheel and reach over to turn off the truck, still not removing my other hand from her thigh.
“You ready to go in?” My voice so fucking strained it sounds garbled.
She shivers, and it’s almost my undoing.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I need you to get out first.”
“What?” The word is so quiet I almost don’t hear it.
I glance at her and curse at how dark those blue eyes are as they watch me.
“Baby. I need you to open your door and step outside before I fuck you in the cab of this truck.”
Her lips part on a low moan, and I toss my head back, slipping my hand further up her thigh, my pinky climbing and climbing until it brushes something cold.
The button of her jeans.
“Braxton,” I warn, rolling my head to the side to watch her. My palm is between her legs now, cupping her pussy through her jeans.
“Maddox,” she whimpers.
My name has never sounded better. Not fucking once.
“Undo the button for me.” It’s an order, and she takes it as such. She fiddles with the button until it pops and the zipper slides down. “Good girl.”
A soft noise pushes past her lips at the term, and I make note of that reaction as I drag my hand up her mound and over the open flap of her jeans. My fingers brush an elastic band before finding soft lace beneath it.
I curl my fingers in the lace and pull, her following gasp music to my ears when the fabric wedges between her pussy lips.
“I want to see you, Braxton. I want to see how these panties look cutting your pussy in half and how ruined they are when I pull them off because of how wet you made them. The first time I touch you, I need to see you. I’ve been imagining this for too long not to have it all.”
She nods, eyes brimming with desire. “Take me upstairs. Please.”