Chapter 10
Melody
“You’re making him better.” Lindsey is at the door in her black satin miniskirt and sequined black and gold top. “You should come out and celebrate. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be there.”
“I’m good.” The last thing I want is to run into him tonight.
My stomach is churning and my chest is tight. I keep seeing his sapphire eyes, holding mine through the screen. Bring it on, QP.
He said to keep doing what I’m doing. He’s reading what I write and learning from it, and it’s getting harder to continue calling him on his mistakes. He’s working so hard, and I know his passion for the game is real.
Still the fans demand it, and I have to give them what they want. If only I knew how to turn off my feelings when I do it. Clearly, I could never be a coach. I’m way too much of a softie.
I’m nice. God, I hate that word.
“Leave some ice cream for me.” Lindsey steps forward to kiss the top of my head before heading out the door.
“Be safe tonight. If you get into trouble, call me, and I’ll come pick you up.”
“I won’t!” She waves, and I lean my head against the windowpane as I watch her trot down the sidewalk in the direction of St. Charles Avenue.
My eyes drift to the sky, and I notice thick, black clouds rolling in. Walking back to the living room, I curl up on the sofa, tucking my feet under my butt as I watch the highlight reels on my phone.
Knox is so good-looking. He really is getting better with every game, and it’s not just because of me. It’s because of his own natural talent.
He’s like a young horse, energetic and unpredictable, but it doesn’t mean he’s bad. He’s simply learning to focus, to be disciplined. I want to rub his neck, thread my fingers through his mane, kiss his velvet nose…
What the hell am I talking about?
A loud banging on the door makes me jump and squeal at the same time my phone lights up with a text.
I glance at the screen as I walk to the front door.
Chet
Long time no chat. We need to fix that. I think you and I might be a winning combination.
My brow furrows. What the hell is he talking about?
Instead of answering, I pocket my phone and look through the peephole. “Who is it?”
“Knox.”
My heart jumps to my throat, and I step back. I look down at what I’m wearing. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone tonight, and I’m dressed in black leggings and a long-sleeved cardigan over a spaghetti-strap tank.
“I… I’m not expecting visitors,” I say, doing my best to stall for time.
“Good. We won’t be interrupted.” His tone is forceful, and I shake my head as I roll my eyes.
Clearing my throat, I push my hair back. I square my shoulders, take a deep breath, and remind myself I’m the Quarterback Princess. I grew up doing this.
Placing one hand on my hip, I open the door with maybe a little too much flourish.
“Interrupted?” I say, gliding my eyes from his face quickly down his muscled body.
His square jaw is tense, and his eyes laser on mine. He’s practically vibrating with energy, and I wish I’d kept my eyes focused above his neck. That quick scan of his physique has my brain conjuring images of him naked. Not helpful, brain!
“You wanted to know what the hell I was doing?” His rich voice strokes my core, and he reaches up to hold the doorjamb like he did the first time he was here.
It causes the muscles in his arms to flex in a way that’s pure sin.
Closing my eyes, I need to recalculate.
I shake off my lusty thoughts and adopt a neutral tone. “Is this about the red zone failure?”
“You know it is.” He steps closer, and his seductive scent of sandalwood, soap, and something distinctly Knox Bradford wraps around me.
My jaw clenches, and I find my bearings. I was raised in a family of football players. I’m not thrown off-balance by a tall, muscular man… with a perfect body and a killer smile. He’s human, just like the rest of us.
“What are you saying, Knox? Did you want me to ignore it?”
He lifts his chin, and my eyes slide down his muscled neck. They drift lower to his collarbones, to his defined chest imprinting against his thin cotton tee.
The night is warm and thick with humidity. Fog rolls in with the clouds, and it reminds me of those sweaty old movies full of spices and sex.
“Why won’t you talk to me before the games?” He’s frowning, and I study the lines of his muscles.
“I’m a critic. Talking to you would dull my edge.”
“Why do you only criticize me?”
That catches me off-guard, and my eyes snap to his. “What do you mean?”
“You talked about my brother when he still played for Texas. He made mistakes. Why didn’t you call him out the way you do me?”
I swallow the sudden desert in my mouth, trying to calm my racing heart. My skin prickles, and I need something to drink, some water, preferably ice cold. My entire body is burning up, and I need relief.
By contrast, Knox is freshly showered. His hair is shiny, curling behind his ears. He’s muscles for days, potential energy just waiting to be released.
“Austin Sinclair was Jack Bradford 2.0.” I maintain a professional tone. “Your dad’s fingerprints were all over him.”
Knox steps closer. “So there’s nothing to criticize there?”
“There’s nothing new there. We’ve seen it all before.”
I can tell this is an issue for him, and I can understand why. He’s fighting with a legacy, both in his family, in his past, and in the team he presently leads.
I try to explain better. “You’re more interesting, and more infuriating, because you’re neither of them. You’re Knox Fucking Bradford. You’re the new generation of your family’s legends. I want you to get out of your way and own your legacy.”
His blue eyes blaze, but I can’t tell if he’s angry. I don’t know if he understands what I’m trying to say. His jaw muscle moves, and his hand tightens on the door frame.
The air around us crackles with electricity. The storm has grown closer, and light strobes in the clouds behind him as if he were a god.
He breathes, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. He reaches up and puts the other hand on the door frame, almost like he’s holding himself back by sheer force of will.
The space between my thighs melts as the temperature between us rises. Lifting my hand, I place it beneath his on the wood.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper.
“I’d like to kiss you right now.” It’s a low tone, almost feral. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want it.”
Behind him, lightning crawls across the sky, curling into the clouds. We’re all alone here, Lindsey will be in the Quarter for hours.
This is wrong. I should tell him to stop.
My eyes flicker to his lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top, a perfect pout. He’s waiting, hanging on by a thread, and I dive forward.
My hands grip his shoulders, and I pull him down, climbing as I go for his mouth.
Strong arms surround my body, and he lifts me off my feet, carrying me inside as our mouths seal. The door slams shut, and I wrap my legs around his waist.
My back hits the wall, and large hands go to my ass, gripping my thighs and pulling me open, allowing him to get closer, to touch me. A whimper slips from my throat as I rub my body against his, teasing my clit against the steel rod in his jeans.
“Fuck,” he groans, lifting his chin. “It’s not going to be enough.”
“What?” I gasp, leaning forward to slide my tongue along the muscles in his neck.
One large hand grips my jaw, lifting my face so he can kiss me again. He turns my head, biting my lips, my jaw, holding me in a way like he’s going to devour me whole.
My fingers grasp at his skin, and I do my best to keep up, pulling his lips with mine, curling my tongue with his. Another break, another groan.
“Kissing you is not going to be enough.” A low rumble of thunder. “I’m going to have to fuck you or I’m going to burn alive.”
He looks down at me, breathing hard, eyes wild. He’s like some mythical creature who came out of this turbulent night and appeared on my doorstep.
“We can’t have that,” I insist, reaching for his neck.
Our mouths collide again, and he holds me as if I weigh no more than a doll. His hands are on my waist, and the warmth of his fingers spreads across my skin. It’s delicious, and I’m burning up as well in his fire.
Pushing him back, my feet hit the floor, and I’m so damn short. Grabbing his hand, I drag him into my bedroom, slamming the door as I turn to face him.
His eyes are darkened, and we’re both panting like we’ve run a race. We’re just getting started. He watches me, as if he’s waiting for me to tell him this is okay, we can do this.
Fuck me, this is the worst idea ever.
“No one can know,” I give a stern order.
His lips curl in that cocky smile that’s pure Knox. “You’re going to let me fuck you?”
“Shut up and take your clothes off before I change my mind.”
He reaches behind his neck and pulls the shirt over his head, leaving his hair a sexy mess, uncovering strong pecs, a solid six-pack, that mouthwatering V disappearing into his jeans.
I take a step back, sitting on the bed with a “Damn.”
He steps forward, putting his hands on my shoulders and pushing the cardigan down my arms. “Your turn.”
I exhale a little laugh. “I’m not…”
I wave my hand in front of his perfectly sculpted physique, and he catches it in his larger one, pulling it to his lips. “Shut up and let me fuck you.”
The brush of his warm lips against the inside of my palm registers straight to my tingling core.
I rub my thighs together, huffing a laugh. “We probably should work on how we speak to each other.”
Leaning down, he catches the hem of my shirt as he kisses the side of my face, my ear. “Are you implying we’re not nice?”
Cool air swirls around my body, tightening my nipples. My eyes close as he lifts my breast in his hand, pinching the sensitive bud.
“No… never be nice,” I gasp, and he wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me higher onto the bed as he joins me.
His head is at my chest, and he covers my nipple with his lips, biting gently before moving to the other. My head drops back, and my eyes close with a groan.
“I promise never to be nice when I fuck you.” He moves lower, kissing my bare stomach before gripping the waist of my leggings and jerking them down to my ankles along with my underwear.
I quickly kick them off as he stands, unbuttoning his jeans as he watches me. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and when his jeans drop, an audible sigh escapes my lips.
He’s so big and hard and clearly ready to fuck my brains out.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, remembering the first time I saw him. Stamina between my thighs.
A dark eyebrow arches, and he’s impossibly arrogant. “Exactly.”
Does he mean me? “You are definitely a sin.”
He bends down to take a condom from his jeans. “Are you saying you’ll go to confession?”
“Nobody can know.” I speak quietly, even though we’re the only ones in this house.
Condom on, he puts one knee on the bed, climbing closer to me. “It’s been years since my last confession.”
He grabs a pillow from beside me and throws it on the bed. Then he wraps his large hand around my calf, pulling me down from where I’m perched with my back to the headboard.
“Get on your stomach,” he orders.
“Are you telling me what to do?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Ass up.”
“I’ve never done anal,” I say quickly, panicking.
“Good to know,” he says, flipping me onto my stomach and spreading my thighs.
My stomach twists, and I’m a little nervous and a lot crazy-excited-horny. “What… Oh! Oh, my God…” My protest melts into deep moans as his mouth closes on my ass cheek, kissing lower, biting, until his tongue laps at my pussy, finding my clit.
I gasp more moans, swears, prayers, arching my back as I lift my body higher, giving him full access to eat me like a four-course dinner.
Large hands spread me open, and he licks, sucks, groans. My legs shake, and I make noises I’ve never heard before. I sound like a cat in heat.
I’m burning up when he decides he’s made me come enough times to take his massive cock. “Nothing to say, QP?” he teases. “No hot takes?”
My eyes are squeezed tight, and my body is still radiating with molten hot bliss. I’m lying on my stomach with him behind me, and every nerve ending in my body prickles with anticipation.
“Fuck me,” I pant, and his deep chuckle twists my stomach.
“Spread those legs wider.”
I know I shouldn’t like him bossing me around. I should be a strong, independent woman who doesn’t let a man tell her what to do.
“Is this good?” I spread my legs wider.
“Yes…” He drags his cock up and down my slit, covering his tip in my come.
I’ve come twice already, and still the sensation makes me whimper. My mouth widens, and I let out a low moan as he slowly presses his tip into my core. Oh, God, he’s so big.
“Still with me?” He arches over me, kissing the side of my neck, my jaw, the back of my ear. “Too much?”
“More,” I beg.
He goes deeper, and my voice rises higher. It’s so fucking good. He holds, letting me feel his size, letting me stretch. My eyes roll higher as my jaw drops. Then he starts to pump.
It’s raw and primal and so dirty. My ass lifts to take him deeper, and his hand slides forward, fingers in my mouth. I suck, and he groans. His hips move faster, slapping against my ass, and I push my hands against the bed, wanting more.
His mouth is beside my ear, and his breaths, his low groans, his deep grunts and moans make me even wetter.
“Fuck, that’s a sweet pussy.” He kisses then bites my ear. “You make me so hard.”
He moves faster, his hand sliding down to my neck. He squeezes gently, and my lips part with a moan. He’s moving fast, fucking me solid. Sparkles of light break out behind my eyes, and I can’t believe I’m coming again.
“Yes…” He groans. “That’s right, baby, come for me again.” He gasps, squeezing my neck. “Oh, fuck… Fuck, I’m coming…”
Strong arms wrap around me, and I feel his body go rigid. His hips move behind my ass, cupping and driving his cock impossibly deeper into my core. So deep I feel him break with a shudder, pulsing, stomach jerking, holding as his mouth presses to the side of my face.
I ride with him through the waves of pleasure. His body tenses, and he grips me so hard. It’s fucking hot as sin.
And not at all nice.