29. I Love your Tight End
29
Tessa
“What about this one?”
I meet Roxy’s eyes with an arched brow. “I don’t think I should show the entire team my hoo-ha.”
“It’s not that short,” she argues, holding up the gold-sequined handkerchief masquerading as a cocktail dress. “Don’t you want to look sexy?”
“There’s a fine line between looking sexy and looking like a hooker,” Hadley cuts in, snatching the dress from Roxy and shoving it back onto the rack.
“I wore a dress just like this to a party last month,” Roxy grumbles, and a laugh barks out of Skye, who’s perusing the rack behind her.
Roxy turns and hip bumps her roughly, making Skye stumble to her left. I roll my eyes at them and wander away, hoping to find something that will make Riggs salivate a bit without showing all my goodies to the rest of his team and the coaching staff.
“So, things are getting real between you two?”
I turn to see Hadley has followed me, leaving Skye and Roxy to bicker over the suitability of wearing barely-there dresses in public. Roxy has zero shame and flaunts her assets, but Skye has always been a jeans-and-tank-top kind of girl.
“He asked me to be his girlfriend,” I whisper in response to Hadley’s question.
Her hand snaps out to grip my forearm. “Seriously? Like, officially?”
I nod with a laugh. “Yep. It’s official.”
“Wow,” she murmurs, her eyes dropping to the floor before shooting back up to meet mine. “That’s unexpected.”
I cock my head. “You didn’t think he’d want me like that?”
“No, it’s not that,” she says in a rush. “I just didn’t think you’d jump into something serious with him. At least, not this quickly. You hated him for so long.”
“My anger was misplaced,” I say simply. “Those assholes manipulated me, making me think Riggs only cared about the bet. Now that I know the truth…”
My words trail off as I shrug my shoulders. Yes, Riggs made a bet over me and my virginity. But he never planned to go through with it. He wasn’t trying to win. He was trying to protect me and all the other innocent girls at our school from that fucker Grady Hollis.
“That’s great, Tess,” Hadley says, interrupting my thoughts. “He’s been good for you. I can see how happy you are.”
“Thanks, Had,” I reply with a smile, then straighten. “Now, help me find the perfect dress. Something that’ll make Riggs want to rip it off of me the second he sees me in it.”
A light pink blush stains her cheeks, and I laugh. Hadley’s always been the more conservative one in our friend group. She’s never had a serious relationship, and as far as I know, she’s only been on a few first dates. Hell, I’m not sure she’s ever had sex. She’s never mentioned it, and when Roxy brought it up once over drinks, she shut down completely and refused to talk about it. We decided by tacit agreement to never bring it up again. Hadley will talk to us about it when she’s ready.
She looks to her right and freezes. I follow her line of sight, and the breath whooshes out of my chest. My steps are slow and measured as I approach a mannequin in the corner dressed in bright red lace. I reach out to touch the material, my fingertips gliding over it gently.
It’s a sleeveless number with a neckline that dips into a deep V. It’s fitted through the bodice, hips, and thighs with a black silk underlay. Red and black. Just like the Bandits’ team colors.
“This is perfect,” I whisper as Hadley moves in beside me.
“I love it,” Roxy says, stepping up on my other side.
“It’s gorgeous,” Skye adds, moving in beside Roxy.
“It’s going to blow him away,” Hadley says, then moves toward the rack to find my size. Pulling a dress out, she pushes it toward me. “Here, go try it on.”
I finger the soft lace, a smile spreading across my face as I head for the dressing room.
If this looks half as good on me as it does the mannequin, Riggs is going to lose his mind.
My heart flutters as I hear the doorbell chime. I smooth my hands over my sleek, straightened hair and down my dress before taking careful steps toward the door. These sky-high black heels look amazing, but my ankles aren’t too confident in them, yet.
Stopping before the door, I take a deep breath before reaching out to turn the knob and swing it open. The breath whooshes out of me as my eyes land on Riggs, looking sexy as fuck in a fancy black suit. His hair is gelled to perfection, his face shaven clean and smooth.
I watch as his eyes rove down my body and back up again. Then, without a word, he lunges forward, wrapping me up in his arms and pressing his mouth to mine. I feel a moment of relief that I waited to put on the fire engine red lipstick I bought to match the dress, then my mind goes blank as his tongue plunges between my lips to tangle with mine.
He kisses me like he’s been starved for it. Like he’d devour every bit of me if he could.
Then he pulls back and gives me a soft, affectionate grin. “You look magnificent.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “You clean up pretty good, yourself.”
“Yeah?” he asks, taking a step back and striking a pose. “You like?”
“Oh, yeah. I like,” I say with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. “Give me a second to finish getting ready, then we can go.”
I feel his eyes on me as I walk away, and I concentrate on each step so I don’t embarrass myself by stumbling, or God forbid, actually falling down. Grabbing my black clutch from the table, I pull out the tube of lipstick and smooth it on in front of the mirror hanging on the wall. Blotting my lips together, I tuck the tube back in the small purse and turn back to Riggs.
He shakes himself as if breaking out of a trance, and I grin as he crooks out an elbow. Walking toward him with an extra swing in my hips––while still taking small, careful steps––I link my arm through his. He dips his head and presses a kiss to my hand before leading me out to his truck.
The drive to Branston is quiet, the air charged with sexual tension as Riggs’ eyes keep moving to my bare legs before snapping back to the road in front of us. I fight the urge to squirm in my seat as my skin heats under his stare. I swallow thickly as I squeeze my thighs together against the ache blooming in my core. A quiet little moan slips out, unbidden.
Riggs inhales sharply and blows the breath out between parted lips. “You need to stop, or I’m going to turn this truck around and take you straight to my bed.”
“Me? You’re the one who keeps looking at me like you want to eat me alive,” I shoot back with a chuckle.
“Because I do,” he says, reaching over to grip my bare thigh, his pinky slipping under the hem of my dress.
“Not helping, Malone,” I grit out as my thighs spread a bit wider without my consent.
Not one to waste an opportunity, Riggs slides his hand higher until his fingertips brush against the soaked cotton of my underwear. His chest heaves as he bites out a curse.
“Jesus, you’re drenched,” he murmurs, his gentle touch making me even wetter. “Fuck.”
He pulls his hand away as he turns into a long driveway filled with expensive cars and SUVs. I didn’t even notice when we left the highway and entered the residential district. Riggs parks the truck, then shuts off the engine. Twisting in his seat, he leans over, brushing his soft lips against my ear.
“Twenty minutes. We’ll make an appearance, mingle for a bit, then I’m taking you to the nearest hotel so I can make you come all over my mouth while you scream my name.”
I suck in a shuddering breath as I nod, and Riggs presses an open-mouthed kiss to my neck before pulling away with a sigh. He climbs from the truck, taking a moment to adjust himself behind the shield of his open door, then slams it shut before jogging around to open my door for me. I take his hand as I climb down on wobbly legs––these fucking shoes aren’t helping matters––and once I’m steady, Riggs flips my hand over and presses a warm kiss to my palm.
Pressing his hand to the small of my back, he leads me to the front entrance of the large brick home. Using his free hand, he opens the door without knocking, and the soft strains of instrumental music and murmuring voices reach my ears. I suddenly feel nervous, and as if he feels my tension, Riggs moves his hand from my back to my waist and tugs me close to him. I smile at him in thanks as three men approach us.
“Tessa, this is Miles Blake,” Riggs says. “And that’s Foster McKenna and Porter Crawford.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Miles says, reaching out to shake my hand, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
“The pleasure is mine,” I say as he lifts my hand to his lips for a chaste kiss.
“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Porter says, rolling his eyes at Miles’ theatrics and Riggs’ growl of disapproval.
I shake his hand, saying, “All good, I hope.”
“Well, there was the dick cookie thing…” he says in a low voice, and I laugh as he waggles his eyebrows.
I tilt my head toward Riggs. “He deserved that.”
“Of course, he did,” Miles says with a laugh.
“Tessa,” the quiet, tatted-up man in the middle says, taking his turn to shake my hand.
“Foster Mckenna,” I say, my eyes wide with reverence. “Number one tight end in the league with over a thousand yards receiving and fourteen touchdowns last season. When you hurdled over Travis Burnette into the end zone to win the game, I almost died. I love you so much.”
All four men stare at me with wide eyes for several beats. A quiet laugh bubbles out of me as I prop my hands on my hips.
“What? Can’t a girl enjoy football?”
“Do me. Do me,” Miles says, rubbing his hands together.
I cock my head. “Miles Blake, defensive back. Thirty-seven tackles with two sacks. Well, one and a half, really.”
“No way,” he says. “Pierce came in after I already had him on the ground. That sack was all me.”
I laugh and look at Porter. “And you. That sixty-yard reception during the Raptors game last season was epic. Their defense looked like a bunch of toddlers out there trying to chase you down.”
“Oh, I like this one, Malone. Can I have her?”
I can tell Miles is teasing, those devilish blue eyes tell all, but Riggs holds me closer and growls, “Keep your hands to yourself, Blake.”
Miles laughs as the other two shoot Riggs wide grins. I can tell these four are close, like brothers. I’m glad Riggs has them. Coming to a new team is bound to carry some speed bumps, so having a close-knit group of teammates is an obvious check in the pros column.
“Fuck,” Riggs mutters under his breath, his body going rigid.
I follow his line of sight, my own spine tightening as I see the bulky blond striding toward us.
“Is that…Grady Hollis?” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, Tessa. I meant to tell you the team acquired him, but when I saw you in this dress, it flew right out of my head.”
“It’s okay,” I say as Grady wedges himself into our little circle.
“Well, if it isn’t Tessa White,” Grady says, his smarmy voice grating on each of my nerve endings.
“Grady,” I say by way of a greeting.
My skin crawls as his eyes travel down the length of my body and back up again, pausing a little too long on my breasts. I keep my eyes on the snake, but I can see Riggs’ friends tensing as Grady continues to stare. Finally, his gaze returns to mine.
“Who would’ve expected you to turn out this hot when you were such a geek in high school?” he says with a smirk.
“Hollis,” Riggs says, his voice filled with dark warning.
“What?” Grady asks, throwing up a hand in my direction. “Look at her. She’s sexy as fuck.”
It’s obvious he’s baiting Riggs, and just as obvious that Riggs is taking that bait. I move a step closer to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His anger is palpable, and I feel the need to diffuse the situation.
“I could use a drink,” I say, but Grady is already talking over me.
“I never wanted to make that bet with Malone, you know?” he says, his gaze falling to my chest again before shooting back up. “But he insisted. Now, I can see why. I bet you’re a wildcat in the bed––“
He doesn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because Riggs’ fist connects solidly with his jaw. My hands fly to my mouth as I stumble backward, and strong hands grip my arms to steady me, keeping me from falling flat on my ass in these hellish heels. I look up to see Foster staring at me apologetically before I lean around him to look for Riggs.
My eyes widen when I spot him. He’s knocked Grady flat on his back, and he’s straddling him, his fists pounding into the asshole’s face. Shocked shouts ring out around us as stocky, muscled men close in on them. Two guys grip Riggs’ arms and pull him off Grady, who sits up with a sneer as he wipes the blood from beneath his nose with the back of his hand.
“Malone! Hollis!”
I look over to see Coach Nesbit striding forward. I recognize him from the press conferences he attended when he was hired by the Bandits’ organization, but I’ve never seen his face so red. Or angry.
“Come with me. Now,” he says, and Riggs’ shoulders slump as he follows.
Grady pushes himself up from the floor, frowning when no one moves to help him. The hushed crowd watches as they disappear down a side hallway. My whole body shakes from nerves and worry, and I startle when a hand lands gently on my shoulder.
“He’ll be okay,” Miles says softly. “Let’s get you a drink.”
I nod quietly, my eyes darting back to the hallway where my boyfriend disappeared. I hope he doesn’t get benched. Or worse, traded to another team.
I know this isn’t my fault. That responsibility lays mostly on Grady’s shoulders for his insulting behavior. And somewhat on Riggs for taking the bait.
But I can’t help but feel guilty over the whole mess. Because if I wasn’t here with Riggs, there wouldn’t be a problem, would there?