Chapter 15
BYRON
My planof taking my time kissing every inch of Giana’s beautiful body gets lost the moment her desperate mouth takes mine.
Our bodies ignited immediately. Giana spins me toward the wall and rips open my favorite shirt, popping two buttons. My fingers make light work of the rest to rid the shirt from my body and toss it to the side. Giana runs her tongue along my chest, down my abdominal plane, and hovers there while she unfastens my trousers.
Jesus, I’m so hard for her.
She yanks my trousers down and takes my dick in her mouth.
Leaning my head against the wall, I remember the last time her mouth was on my cock. God, I’ve missed this. Missed her. My hands are in her hair, assisting her rhythm as I build. It wasn’t part of my plan. It was supposed to be about her and damn Giana for flipping the script and taking the power.
But fuck, I’m so close to coming, I’m handing the control to her. She squeezes my balls as her tongue glides over the shaft, and I shudder, so damn close. Grabbing my ass, she pumps those lips over my cock, sucking harder and faster, and I lose control when the orgasm hits with a force, and I come in her beautiful mouth.
Pulling away, Giana wipes her mouth and gazes at me with the sultriest look in her eyes. She sits back on her heels, and I slide down the wall and kneel in front of her. We stare at each other for a moment.
“You still taste good,” she says demurely. My lips mash with hers, my cum still on her tongue, and suddenly, our mouths are wrestling. I’m overwhelmed by the lust inside me. She falls back and laughs as we untangle our legs. My face is close to her breasts—a perfect starting point. Reaching around, I unzip her dress and slide the straps over her shoulders until her breasts bounce free.
No fucking bra.
I take one nipple in my mouth to toy with, kiss, lick, and suck before moving to the other. Her moans goad me on while her neck arches in pleasure.
“I need this dress off you.” I tug it down her thighs and slide it off before throwing it aside. “And these.” Returning the favor, I take the thin strap of her thong and snap it with my fingers and teeth.
Giana gasps loudly. “That was my favorite.”
“As was my shirt.”
I spread her legs and bend each so I get a good look at her glistening folds. She is so wet for me. I give myself a moment to ingrain the memory in my mind, as it’s been far too long. I run one finger over her opening, then take it into my mouth, closing my eyes as I remember her taste. I insert one finger inside her and find her sweet spot.
Giana’s hips buck, her hands flying over her head as she moans in pleasure. I insert two, then three, and work her, using my other hand to hold her pelvis to stop her from moving about. She is close to coming, so I bury my face in her and suck her clit, licking and sucking as my fingers work her harder. She lifts her hips against the force of my palm, her arms thrown wide. She smacks the hardwood, which is killing my knees.
“Byron,” she moans. I love the sound of my name on her lips. “Byron,” she says in a higher voice.
I need to watch her beautiful face as she comes for me, so I slide to lie alongside her. “Why are we on this fucking floor?” I whisper, grinning when her eyes flash open momentarily and close again as my fingers pump harder.
My erection is pushing against her hip. I thrust against her, and she moans my name in a whisper as her cheeks flush with the beauty of her orgasm.
Her body softens. Her legs sag, one sliding straight. Her rapid breaths slow.
I remove my fingers. With her orgasm coating each one, I write always yours on her stomach, then proceed to suck each finger clean.
“What did you write?” she whispers.
“The truth.” I lean down and kiss her lips with all the gentleness I feel for this woman. “I need to get you off this floor.” I pull her to her feet, carry her to the bed, then lay Giana in the center and lie beside her. “Are you ready for more fun?”
Her long lashes flutter as she peers up at me. “Today, my body is all yours, Byron.”
My dick jumps to attention as all my fantasies of Giana flood back to my brain, but her saying today messes with my thoughts.
Frustration ripples over me, like in any situation where I have no control. It’s why everything around me is tidy, and routine is king.
I breathe out and count to four, trying to release the need to want her here with me and love her every single day. But Giana is not mine.
However, today, her body is mine.
Body, mind, and soul, I need all of Giana, not just the sex, and I need to prove it. If she needs time, then I’ll honor that. So I tear myself away and say the words before I regret it.
“Do you want to take that swim now and recharge? I’ll grab your favorite bottle of wine.”
Giana has been gonetwo days.
Yesterday, I spent most of the day reading the aviation notes for the week before spending three hours on flight practice. The buzz of being in the air distracted all thoughts of Giana and dickwad in Italy.
Today, I hit the courts at four thirty in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. Between trainings, I scrolled social media, searching Leto Designs’ and Giana’s accounts for any image of her. What the fuck is wrong with me? We’re now in between weight repetitions, and I have my cell in my hand, scrolling again.
“Byron?” Brandon points to the bench. “Want me to spot?”
I guzzle the energy drink and choke.
“Jesus.” Brandon jumps out of the way before spots of the orange liquid hit his prized Nike shoes.
“The fucker,” I murmur.
“Who?”
I turn my screen toward him. “Gigi’s ex.”
“Man, this is not like you. You have to trust her.”
“I do,” I grunt. “It’s him I don’t trust.” I stand from the bench and run a hand through my hair. “I should be there to protect her from this asshole.”
Brandon lays a hand on my shoulder. “Mate, Gigi is capable of looking after herself. I saw the two of you together. She’s not going to do anything stupid.” He takes his towel and wipes sweat from his brow, his blond curls still wet.
I don’t want him anywhere near her. And I don’t give two fucks if he is her boss’s nephew. I add extra weight to the bar.
Brandon makes a click sound in his throat. “Okay, here we go. I got you… I fucking hope because this is a lot, mate.” He stands with his hands under the bar, ready to assist. He counts each rep, and I only get to ten with the added weight. I pause to catch my breath.
“Go again,” he tells me. A vision of Dante with his arms around Giana and Isabella on a stage somewhere is stuck in my mind.
I do not want him touching her.
I groan with the final two reps before Brandon helps me steady the bar on the support beam. We finish with squats before we shower and head to a team meeting.
The meeting room is newly decorated and state-of-the-art. It’s one of the things Penny helped my father design. She acquired single leather chairs to accommodate all players and staff in rows like a movie theater. Each chair is like a professional gaming chair in soft gray leather, designed for comfort while watching videos of our opponents or meetings and professional speakers.
I lean back in the chair, and it tilts enough to relax my mind. I close my eyes and imagine Giana’s smiling face as she receives the admiration she deserves, except I want to be there to share in it with her. It’s the first time I don’t want to be at a basketball arena, doing what I’m told. My eyes fling open at the sound of Coach’s voice.
“Saturday night,” he begins. “I have a team named for the preseason game. My report states everyone is available and fit.”
I raise my hand. “Coach.” I cough to clear my voice. “I’m not available this weekend.”
Coach stares at his tablet, then looks to his assistant. His assistant shrugs one shoulder. “News to me.”
Coach eyeballs me. “Since when, Hendricks?”
“My hamstring pulled up tight after the session, and I’m getting a massage after the meeting. Just thought maybe I should sit this one out.”
The team therapist pushes off the wall and walks over to me. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I felt it tightening in the weights session.”
“Right. Come and speak to me after the meeting, and I’ll take a look.”
Coach nods his head. “Hendricks is out. BJ, you can take Byron’s position, and Jye can play the number two spot.”
Usually, Brandon plays shooting guard but never point. The way he replaced me with Brandon doesn’t sit well with me. Coach didn’t fight me on playing. It’s as though he was already thinking about it. I expected a rookie to take my place to give him a chance in the preseason.
If it were another time, I would dwell on it and train harder to prove I’m not replaceable and the best damn point guard on the team, but not when I’m distracted by how the fuck I can get on a flight to Italy tonight.
As soon as the meeting ends, I send a text to Penny.
An angel sleepsin my arms. I peer down at her cute little nose. Summer purses her lips as she sleeps. Already, she has sass, and the thought of her as a fiery teenager giving lip to Franklin makes me grin. I walk with her in the nursery, admiring Giana’s painting on the wall as I rock Summer gently in my arms.
“You sounded anxious on the phone,” Penny says as she returns to the room. She takes Summer from my arms and places her gently in her crib. “Come, I’ll get you a cold drink.” She closes the door and activates the baby monitor on her phone. “We’ll hear her if she wakes.”
I follow Penny into the sitting room, where she pours iced tea. “Thanks.” I take a sip. “I need your advice.”
“Fire away,” she says with an easy smile.
I just come out and say it. “Frank doesn’t need the jet, right?”
“No,” she says, curiosity in her tone.
“Do you know if Jobe needs it?”
“What’s going on, Byron?” She takes the hair tie from her wrist and pulls her hair back into a ponytail. Fuck, I’m inconsiderate. Penny has shadows under her eyes.
“Am I intruding on your rest time?”
“No.” She places a hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing. “Talk to me.”
I let out a long breath and consider my words not to sound like a fucking fool. “I need to be in Italy tonight. If Franklin thinks I’m being rash, he’ll say no, as it’s mainly Dad, Frank, and Jobe’s business jet. I considered buying one of my own, but I can’t buy one that fast.”
“Oh my God, you are being rash. Your family does not need any more private jets,” she says, sounding annoyed. “If you want to get on a plane, then book it. Is your passport up to date? Visas?”
“Yes, but the only seats available on flights leaving tonight are in coach.” My knee continues to bounce in a steady rhythm.
“Byron.” Penny stares a moment longer than usual as though she is waiting for an explanation. “Why does it need to be tonight?”
Dragging my palms down my face, I rub at my jaw for a second before picking up the tea and taking a mouthful. “It’s Giana. I want to be there to support her. There is an event to showcase her new art on appliances, and it’s important to me to be there so she understands how much she means to me.”
Penny crosses her legs and sits back in the pale-pink designer chair. “Don’t underestimate a woman’s intuition. I’m sure she already knows.”
“Maybe, but her douchebag ex is hanging around, and I don’t want to give him an inch.”
“Ah. There it is. The jealous part of the Hendricks men always pops out when you least expect it.” She giggles as though she’s reflecting. “Byron, if you need to go, then go. I’m sure someone is on call to do your approvals ASAP. Ring Frank, and he will help you out.”
“He’ll loan me the jet?”
“No. We’re being conscious of emissions when it comes to the jet’s usage. Jobe and Frank are being more practical. Buy the seat that’s available on tonight’s flight.”
I stand. “Coach? I don’t think I’ve ever?—”
“Go and pack, Byron, and stop being entitled. If you want to see Gigi, then do it.”