Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
~MAC~
I’m wearing one of Danny’s oversized T-shirts and nothing else. The man is over six feet tall, so I’m swimming in it. We’re sitting on his living room floor, new tumblers of whiskey and a pizza on the coffee table.
“I don’t know why we couldn’t order Marcella’s,” I tell him. “I mean, this is good, but I always order from them.”
“They don’t deliver and there was no way I was leaving you or putting on more than a pair of shorts tonight. Gia’s has good pizza,” he defends his favorite pizza place.
“It’s not bad. I like Marcella’s crust better,” I say before taking another bite. “And if I’m going to have a cheat day, it should be just the way I want it.”
He laughs at me. “I promise the next time we do this; we can do it at your place, and it’ll be pizza from Marcella’s.”
I smile. “I don’t know that we should be doing this at my apartment. I think your place might be best.”
I take a moment and look around. There are pictures of his mom and him. I know he doesn’t have siblings, but I don’t even see a picture of his father in the living room. I want to ask about it, but I know how he gets about his dad.
He’s sitting there crossed-legged, dark hair mussed a bit from where my hands ran through it. He looks so carefree. I don’t want to say anything. Every time I do, it causes him to get a little irritated. But I do it anyway, against my better judgment, and hope that it doesn’t wreck our evening.
“There are no pictures of your father here.”
He looks around and nods. “No, there aren’t any. I have a standard one in my office, but that’s about it.”
“Why are you calling it a standard one?”
“Because I have that one displayed so that I can say I have one. Sometimes when he comes over, I move it to the living room, where he can see that I have it. Other than that, it stays hidden.”
I nod. “I get it. I don’t have a lot of pictures of my parents either.” I shrug. “Doesn’t seem to matter. They never come to see me anyway, so they’ll never know.”
“Did they visit you in Portland?” he asks.
“Sometimes. Sometimes they would watch my games, but it was rare.”
“Do they have demanding jobs?”
I can see the shift in him. His eyes are still kind but not as carefree.
He’s in reporting mode, where he’s picking up information and asking the questions in a gentle voice to keep me at ease.
I don’t call him on it, though. It seems like tonight; we’re in a bubble of niceness—no jabs or arguing. I want that. I need that.
“No, they don’t. My mom works as a paralegal and my dad is a teacher. So, they do get busy with work, but they could have easily taken a vacation day to come and see me. But…”
He nods. “Yeah, my dad only came around when it was the Olympics. The old man was poolside because it was good for the press, but when it came to my surgery or in the recovery room, it was only my mother.”
I swallow and sheepishly admit, “I’m sure neither one of mine would come here if I were to ever get injured.”
“Don’t put that juju out there. You don’t want to say, ‘if I get injured.’”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll be careful.”
“I’m sure you will.” He winks at me. “So, I’m assuming they’ll never come to Tampa?”
I shake my head, taking a bite of my pizza.
“No, they’ll probably stay in Washington.
My dad has MS.” I finally let that detail slip out.
“The heat isn’t the best for him. They were mad I got drafted to the Blaze because then they couldn’t come because of how the heat would impact him.
But honestly, they wouldn’t have come anyway.
I pointed that out, and instead of celebrating on draft night, I was arguing with them.
Which put me in a foul mood. Even though they left, I still stayed in my hotel instead of hitting the bar with the rest of the players who were drafted. ”
He gets up and walks over to where I’m sitting. He sits beside me, pulling me into this lap.
“Don’t make me drop my pizza,” I whine.
“Brat,” he says, kissing my temple.
I just laugh and keep eating.
“I’m sorry they’re like that. You don’t deserve that,” he says in a low voice.
My eyes water. “Please stop talking.”
“Why?”
“Because if you keep talking like this, I’m going to start crying, and the last thing I want is to start crying.”
“I won’t. But if it helps you, my dad is shit too.
He’s cheated on my mom so many times. It’s unreal how wonderful the world thinks he is.
Everyone gets all excited when they find out I’m related to him, but all I can think of is how he’s the asshole who cheated on Mom and had her crying every time he went away.
She knew that different nights in different cities meant time alone with strange women.
Because that’s what happens when you’re in the NFL. There’s always a willing woman.”
“I think that’s just what happens when you’re a man. There’s always a willing woman somewhere.”
He looks at me for a moment. “Who cheated on you?”
I study those brown eyes, so full of concern. His strong jawline. He’s really a beautiful man. I don’t say that, because it feels too intimate. Which is a weird thought because he was just inside me. And because men probably don’t like to be told they’re beautiful.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say.
“Matters to me,” he tells me.
“Why don’t you date? My Google search didn’t show you with any women, only teammates.”
He shrugs. “Well, I’ve had relationships. I’m just really good at keeping them out of the media.”
“For that long, huh?” I tease him.
He rests his forehead against mine. “Fine, I’m not good at them. I never have been. Sometimes it’s a stupid fight and I just assume the girl is with me for all of the wrong reasons. I start the fight, and I cause the breakup. Or sometimes she’s just not a nice person, and we end it there.”
He might be trying to warn me off, but I don’t let it bother me. “Well, if it helps you, I’m married to soccer, so no one really wants to be with me. It doesn’t help relationships last for very long.”
“It’s a good thing this isn’t a relationship,” Danny teases, kissing me on the nose. “We don’t have to worry about all those past mistakes.”
“Yes, that is a very good thing.” I drop my pizza into the open box, then our lips meet, and I slowly guide him backward so that he’s lying on the floor.
I lick at his bottom lip, asking for entrance, and he grants it.
Sliding inside, I massage my tongue with his.
He moans and I deepen the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip.
His hands come up and cup my ass. Grinding my bare pussy against his shorts, he circles his hips.
He starts to come alive as we kiss. My hands are on the back of his neck, and I pull at his hair, trying desperately to get him closer to me.
When we break the kiss, we’re both breathless.
“I’m so glad you’re not wearing underwear right now.” He laughs and reaches in front of me to pinch my clit.
I cry out. “Oh, fuck, that feels amazing.”
“Amazing, huh?” he asks, pulling my shirt over my head so that I’m naked in front of him. “I love how easy it is for me to get you naked. Are you wanting dessert too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“Well, it is my cheat day,” I tell him.
“Then we should definitely make it a good one.” He covers his mouth with mine again and uses this opportunity to roll us so that I’m on my back.
“You never will let me be on top will you?” I ask him when we break apart.
“I may. Right now, I want to bend you over that coffee table. Are you game?”
I look at the coffee table and then back at him. “Do you really think it will hold us?”
“Aren’t you just a little curious to find out?”
Danny gets up to a kneeling position, and I squeal as he pulls me up so that he can take me over to the table with him.
“Lay that fine ass over the table, baby.”
I do as I’m told, and he takes the opportunity to spank my ass cheek. The sting of the blow makes me push my ass out farther.
“Oh god, please do that again,” I say.
“You just might be the perfect woman.”
He lands another blow, and I moan at the contact. I hear the rip of a condom wrapper and look back to see he’s put a condom on and has lost his shorts.
“This might be a little fast and furious. Think you can handle it?”
“Bring it on,” I tell him.
And boy, does he ever. Spreading my legs just a tad, he slides in.
I moan as he’s inside, pushing my body back against his.
He moves slowly at first, and then it’s faster and faster.
I can barely budge; his movements are driving me into the table.
I’m more or less along for the ride, and it’s one hell of a ride.
Danny is nipping and sucking on the back of my neck. I love the painful feeling of the bite and then the sucking to take the pain away.
He reaches around to rub on my clit. “I’m so sorry, baby, but being inside you like this… I’m not going to make it very long. I need you to come with me.”
His rough circles on my clit send me over the edge in no time. Danny pounds in and out of me, the coffee table biting into my hip. I’m going to have a bruise, but I don’t care. I love the feeling of it.
“Fuck,” I cry out as I feel that pressure building again.
Danny moves faster and faster, seeming to hit deeper each time.
“Fuck,” I say again. I moan and pinch my eyes closed. It’s all too much.
Just as I’m about to come, he slaps my ass again, and that does it. My body goes slack, and I’m screaming his name. He’s following me over the edge and bites into my shoulder, then we both lie there panting, coming down from our high.
“That was one hell of a cheat meal,” I tease him.
“Oh, baby, I haven’t even begun to make you the meal yet.”
He takes me again in the shower before we collapse on the bed and fall asleep in each other’s arms. When I wake up, he’s lying there smiling at me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, rubbing my eyes.
“Just watching you sleep,” he tells me.
“Uh-huh. It’s creepy.”
“You’re going to be leaving me soon for the road,” he mumbles.
“Is that your way of telling me that you’re going to miss me?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he says with a wink.
After another shower and another round, we leave his house and head to the diner for breakfast. This time is different from the last. We have a nice breakfast, and when we leave, he kisses me on the lips before we separate.
I won’t have much time to see him before I have to leave for travel, and apparently this time, Danny is not permitted to travel with us. I’ll have to make it on my own, without my reporter, who is becoming increasingly difficult to pretend I don’t like.