Hard Luck (17 page)

“Let a mother dream.” She kisses my cheek and hugs Brady goodbye, making him promise to call her more. In this regard, she and my mother would likely be best friends. “Bryce, will you walk me to my car?”

“Sure, Mom.” Bryce links arms with his mother. “Back in a minute, you two.”

“We will talk soon, Cali,” Millie says.

“Sounds good.” She pats my cheek in a loving way and smiles up at Brady. We watch them walk away and I exhale, hoping the weight on my shoulders lifts. This lying part sure is exhausting and makes me feel like shit.

“Sorry about the grandchildren part,” Brady apologizes after his mother leaves.

“What can we do?” I say with an understanding smile. “My mother will likely tell me the same thing. It’s the fake part that feels wrong to me. She’s too sweet of a woman to lie to.”

“I know. Guess I never thought about all of it. Coach made it sound so simple.” He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “I head out early tomorrow morning to meet up with the team. It’ll be my first game back since suspension.”

“You’ve got this, Brady,” I encourage, because he needs it.

“I’ve been avoiding the media the last week, but I know they’re going to be on me tomorrow.”

“Let’s have fun and forget about it. Want to swim? I brought my suit.” I hold up my large bag with my newly purchased bikini in it. Donna insisted on the one I bought. It shows off my curves nicely she said.

“You did?” Brady shifts on his feet and looks around. “I guess it’s okay, but I have batting practice in a couple hours. Coach will have my ass if I skip it.”

“Where should I change?” I look around for a pool house, but don’t see anything resembling one. I guess the pool bar took priority.

“Inside. Follow me.”

Brady shows me to a restroom off the cavern-sized TV room. I slip into my suit and open the door to leave, only to find Brady leaning against the opposite wall. His mouth drops open when he sees me in my suit.

“You can’t wear that out there.”

“What do you mean?” I glance down at my bikini to make sure all the important parts are hidden—not a nipple slip in sight.

“I don’t want them seeing you in this.” He walks into the bathroom and grabs a big white towel from under the sink. “Wrap yourself in this.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I protest, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes lower to my breasts and go wide. I look down and so much for nipple slips not being in sight. “Oops.” I rush to move the fabric of the top to cover myself.

“Look what you’re doing to me.” He points to the bulge in his pants. “I’m going to need to jack off now, but I don’t want you going outside without me.”

“I’ll wait. It’s not like I haven’t heard you jack off behind a closed door before.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not going to jack off now.” Brady sounds disgusted with himself—or maybe me, for thinking he would.

“You need this more than me then.” I hand him the towel so he can wrap it around his waist, and he does, but it only shows off his issue more. “Maybe I’ll just stand in front of you,” I laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Funny,” he mutters under his breath in a pissed off tone.

“Seriously, those guys better not look at you,” he warns, an edge to his voice.

“What will you do if they glance at my assets? Beat them up?” I laugh at the thought, but he gives me an impassive stare with a jaw so tight, I’m afraid it may snap.

Cali

The bottom of the pool is too deep for me to touch, so I cling to Brady for support. His large hands splay across my ass, holding me to him. I grip onto his shoulders for support and wrap my legs around his waist, causing his erection to press into my needy clit. Our position seems fairly innocent since we have clothes on, but when I look at him directly, his eyes are dark and hooded. Occasionally, he lifts my body and my pussy glides over the length of him. I should say something, like “stop, you horny fucker,” but it feels too damn good.

I don’t want to dry hump in front of his brother and teammates though—or is it wet humping if we’re in a pool? Either way, I’m not making a great first impression if we stay out here much longer. The up and down motion over his cock has almost turned in to a continual rhythm and we’re the only people floating around in the water. Everyone else is standing around the deck or lounging in chairs being social.

“Brady, we should get out of the pool. My fingers look like prunes.” I show him my fingertips, but he doesn’t seem bothered by their wrinkly appearance.

“Let’s stay in the water a little while longer,” he whispers into my ear. My skin hums as his breath blows over me. I have to close my eyes and remind myself we are basically in public.

“Why can’t we get out?” I swear, if he keeps these movements up, I’m going to come undone.

“I don’t want anyone to see you,” he mumbles while looking away from my gaze.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say a little too loud. “This is why you’ve kept me covered in water up to my neck?”

“Maybe,” he says with a sheepish smile, but his cute cockiness isn’t going to work this time.

“Jesus, Brady,” I mutter, shaking my head. I wiggle out of his arms and swim to the steps. Walking out of the pool, water dripping everywhere, I find the white towel we brought outside with us.

“Hey, Cali,” Kevin calls, and I turn to face him. “Give me a smile. I’ve got to send a pic to Mitch. He’s got to see what he’s missing.”

A roar sounds from behind me before I see Brady running full steam toward Kevin. Brady swings his fist back and before I can yell, “stop,” the crunching of bone against bone sounds out. Kevin’s head flies back, his entire body landing over a lounger and his phone at Brady’s feet.

“No!” I scream as I run toward them. Picking up Kevin’s phone, Brady tosses it into the pool and I shake my head in disgust.

***

“Wait, Cali,” Brady calls after me, hot on my trail as I charge out of Bryce’s house, heading toward Brady’s car.

Stuart relaxes against the trunk of the black sedan, reading something on his phone as I storm up.

“Ms. Jones?” Stuarts asks, looking up from his phone and appearing confused by my sudden appearance.

“I’m ready to leave. Please.” I grab the door handle, but Brady’s hand covers mine before I can open it.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have punched Kevin,” Brady whispers into my ear, his body leaning over mine. Closing my eyes, I try to regroup and tell myself I shouldn’t want him after what he just did to Kevin. “But he was egging me on. Admit it.”

I spin around and face him—which was a bad idea. Our faces are now inches apart and there’s fire in his eyes too, but it’s more than anger at me, it resembles desire. Feeling more like smacking him with my lips than my hand, I break eye contact.

“He was only taking pics on his phone.” I lean further against the door, but Brady hovers closer to me.

“Right,” he laughs with a slight toss of his head. “He was taking shots of you to send to Mitchell. No way in hell was I going to allow that to happen.”

“Do you really think he was going to do that? Even if he did, Mitchell doesn’t give two shits about me anymore.” I turn back around toward the door and open it. Twisting around Brady, I climb into the backseat, having enough of this conversation. Hell, Bryce basically kicked Brady out of his house, telling him to leave and get his shit together—for his team and me.

“You’re my fiancée, Cali,” Brady says, following me into the backseat, though I scoot as far away from him as I possibly can. “That makes you mine.”

“I’m yours?” I bunch my brows together and shake my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“To the world, you are.” Brady reaches across the seat and tries to take my hand in his, but I swat it away.

“Kevin is a jerk. Always has been. He was trying to get a rise out of you, not a black eye.”

“I don’t know what came over me. He started pointing his camera at you and I saw red.”

“You don’t have to defend my honor to him or anyone else.”

“But I wanted to,” Brady confesses, his eyes boring into mine. “For the first time in my life, it mattered.”

“Well, it’s just your pride that’s wounded,” I sneer, annoyed by his basic caveman thinking. He saw me first and doesn’t want to share. I roll my eyes.

“It was more than that. He was disrespecting you. Using you for a laugh. I couldn’t stand by while he did that.”

“Let me repeat this loud and clear. I don’t need you defending my honor to him or anyone else, understand?” Brady takes a deep breath and looks away, though I can feel him wanting to say something back to me, like it’s on the tip of his tongue.

Stuart gets into the car and starts to pull out of Bryce’s driveway. “Back to the penthouse, sir?”

“Yes, please drop Cali off there, then take me to Wrigley. I have batting practice the rest of the afternoon. Plus, I need to get ready to join the team tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Stuart leaves Bryce’s estate and heads back to Chicago along the crowded interstate.

I keep my eyes focused out the car window in an effort to avoid acknowledging Brady on the way home. Every time I think about the scene by the pool, I feel my temperature rise, and not in a good way.

“So, you were pretty serious with Mitch?” Brady asks in a hushed tone.

I huff and shake my head, shocked he still wants to continue down the road to my past.

Pivoting toward him, I see his eyes still burning with anger. But why? Could he be jealous? I don’t understand how that could be.

“What do you want to know? How many times we fucked?” I whisper, knowing Stuart can hear me from the front seat. It might be a crude thing to say, but Brady has no right to bring up my one and only serious boyfriend, especially since his cock has been in hundreds of women.

“The thought of that fucker touching you,” he growls through gritted teeth, “drives me fucking nuts.”

“Why does it bother you so much?” I ask, searching his face for an answer. I’m his cock’s paid companion—a girl who Brady believes gets his rocks off. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be more.

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding defeated as he exhales. “I really don’t know,” he repeats on a whisper, more to himself than me.

Brady and I don’t even say goodbye when Stuart drops me off at the penthouse. A few reporters gather on the sidewalk and yell at me to answer questions or turn toward their cameras, but I don’t even glance in their direction.

A doorman has security escort me to the elevator and I’m thankful for being able to avoid all the camera flashes. I guess Jimmy’s right—there is more protection for me here at Brady’s place from the media and fans.

I decide to quit avoiding my public situation and spend the rest of the afternoon returning communications from friends via email and Facebook.

Even the doctors at my practice are concerned about me, and shocked. I assure them I’m fine, and I will be. I have my eyes set on paying off my student loans and buying my mother a house, both made possible with the money Brady is giving me. Plus, I’d like to help my brother get clean.

Alone in the penthouse, I fix myself some dinner and catch up on some Netflix. By nine, Brady still hasn’t come home. I pick up my phone to see if I missed a call or text from him and mentally slap myself. Only a girlfriend or fiancée would be checking up on Brady like this—and I’m neither.

Turning off the lights to my room around ten, I crawl under the covers of my bed. I try not to check my phone before I start to drift off, but I cave, needing to see if Brady at least said goodnight to me. My phone shows nothing from him, though.

I toss my phone on the nightstand. “Fuckity fuck,” I mutter under my breath, rather disgusted with myself.

After Mitchell shredded my heart to pieces, I swore I’d never fall for a cocky player like Brady again. Plus, I know Brady’s crazy hookup numbers. The sum should scare the shit out of me, but I can’t deny the truth: baseball players attract me like metal to a magnet.

Since the day my uncle sat me down in a seat at Wrigley stadium, the men on the diamond have been my idols. I guess the attraction to these bad boys as a grown woman was inevitable, especially now that I love how they fill out their pants.

Damn Brady and his fine ass. I wonder if it feels as hard as the rest of him and can’t help but hope for another dirty dream about him tonight.

It’s been one hell of an exhausting weekend, so I nestle down in the soft covers of the bed and close my eyes, but all I see is Brady with near fury in his eyes as he spoke to me about Mitchell. Why he was so jealous is a mystery to me. It’s almost like I am truly his. I banish that silly thought out of my head, or at least try to as my mind drifts to sleep.

Cali

A loud bang wakes me up, followed by shoes tapping on the marble tile of the hallway. The sound of footsteps stops at my closed door.

I take a few shallow breaths. It has to be Brady coming home from wherever the fuck he’s been all afternoon and night. Still, I gather the covers around myself and strain to hear if the person standing at my door walks away. Minutes follow, and I’m met with silence.

The doorknob turns and my heart begins to race. It doesn’t stop when the door opens wide to reveal Brady standing there in a white linen shirt that glows in the darkness. It makes him look like a ghost.

“Brady?” I ask in a trembling voice.

“You know what you do to me,” he rasps, walking toward my bed, his words more a statement than a question. “You drive me crazy.”

“I do?” He stands next to me by the bed and I catch a whiff of whiskey as his heavy breathing reaches down to me. The masculine scent and his deep voice make me want him like never before.

“I tried to forget about you tonight,” he confesses in the shadowed darkness as he pulls his fingers through his dirty blond hair. My eyes flutter, imagining doing the same.

“Were you with someone else?”
No.
I lower my eyes, scolding myself. I can’t believe I just asked that. I regret my question the second it leaves my lips.

It makes me weak and silly and stupid, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wondering if he added another hookup to his tally. And why does he need to forget me? Other than a couple kisses where he barely even gave me tongue, we’ve never even been together
together
.

“Fuck, no,” he practically yells, and I flinch under the covers. Brady places a hand on the headboard and leans over me. The whiskey smell hits me harder, making my nipples hard too. “Hundreds of women were around me tonight, all willing to come home with me, but I didn’t want any of them.”

“You mean your dick didn’t,” I throw out the snarky comment, but I need to know. Did he turn them away because he thinks his dick won’t be “up” for the challenge, or was it because he didn’t want to be with them?

“It’s not about that anymore, Cali.” He lowers his free hand to my face, caressing my cheek. His light touch ripples like a wave of desire throughout my body and stops between my legs. I feel like I’m going to burst. “It’s about real want.”

“What
do
you want?” I breathe.

“I want you in my bed,” Brady murmurs back as his fingers still linger on my face.

“Okay,” I whisper without a thought, because he doesn’t just need me, he’s admitting to wanting me. Every wall falls down and any reason to say no fades away as I toss my cares to the wind. I’ve wanted him from afar and now he wants me.

Brady pulls the covers off me with a snap of his wrist and I gasp.

“Brady, what are you doing?” I bring one hand up to my chest while the other lowers in an attempt to cover my thin tank top and one-size-too-small boy shorts.

“Taking you to my bed,” he growls while lifting me up and throwing me over his shoulder Viking-style.

He wraps one arm around my legs, securing me to his hard body. My top half dangles behind him, my head hanging right above his tempting ass. My mouth is positioned where I could easily take a quick nibble of it.

Never in a million years did I think tonight would go like this, but my whole body is on fire at the promise in his words. We are about to go beyond a point of return, but there’s no way in hell I’ll stop him now. I’m all his—at least for this night.

“I hope you’re ready to be fucked senseless,” he says as we walk out of my bedroom and down the hallway toward his suite.

“Yes,” I say while exhaling, wondering if he heard my response. He’s taken my breath away and I can hardly speak.

“Good,” he responds on a growl, proving he did hear me, “because I plan on keeping you up all night.”

He slaps my ass with his free hand and I flinch, not expecting it.

“Hey,” I protest, slapping him back on his ass. And it’s as firm as hell, lucky me.

“Feisty,” he laughs and pulls my shorts down over my ass, rubbing my exposed cheeks. “I fucking knew you would be once you opened up to me.” I close my eyes at the thought of opening myself up to him—all those glorious nine inches. I can’t wait.

“Get me to your damn bed,” I demand, trying to kick my legs, but he holds me tighter.

“Behave, or I’ll have to tie you down,” he threatens, his voice teasing. “Or maybe that’s what you want.” He follows with a sexy laugh that makes me squirm in his arms.

He pushes open his door and it ricochets against the wall with a thud. The lights stay off, but the large glass window lets in the glow from the streets below.

Brady stops in the middle of the room, and I twist around to see we are by his bed. I prepare for him to throw me down, but he grabs my waist with both hands and pulls me down the length of his body, dangerously slow. My toes land on his feet and he holds me in his grasp, looking down at me with hooded eyes, dark with desire.

Reaching up as far as I can, I bring my hands to his neck, wanting my fingers in his blond hair where I can twist and twirl the locks.

“Brady.” His name leaves my lips as his crash to mine. His hands roam over my body, gliding to my ass while he pushes me against his erect cock. So hard, so big, and all mine for the night.

“Cali,” he breathes my name between scorching kisses, “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I need to consume you and leave nothing untouched.”

My head falls back as he ignites an electric trail down my neck with his tongue. He pulls my tank top down on one side, uncovering my left breast. The cool air makes it pebble. Brady nibbles on the skin around my breast, then bends to take my hard nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck,” I moan as he continues to lick and nibble. Feeling needy, I wrap a leg around his hips and grind my pussy into his leg.

How long has it been since a man has touched me like this? Never. No one has unleashed this overriding passion in me before. His words, his body, his touch—it’s never felt like this. He’ll likely ruin me for all others, but I’ll submit to his carnage without regret.

“Lay down,” he commands while releasing me from his hold and stepping away. I want to cling to him, afraid I’ll wake up from a dream, like the one I had this morning.

“On the bed?” I ask, not wanting to let go of him.

“Where the fuck else,” he laughs. I shrug. He makes a good point. “Get your sweet ass on there now.” He nods to the bed, but it looks so big and lonely.

I comply, taking my time crawling toward the center. My ass still shows since he never covered me back up, so I wiggle a little more than necessary.

“Damn,” he whistles between his teeth. I give him a sultry smile as I position myself with my legs stretched in front of me.

He touches my ankles and inches his fingers up the outside of my legs. Landing at the top of my boy shorts, he grasps the edges and pulls each end apart. The flimsy material tears under his strength, shredding it. Tossing it to the side, his lips replace his fingers and he kisses along my hipbones.

“Brady,” I moan, needing more. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asks, moving closer to my clit, but not close enough.

“I need you,” I beg, widening my legs in an open invitation.

“Like here?” His fingers part me and his tongue finds the place needing him the most.

“Yes.” I grab his hair as he sucks, licks, and nips almost to the point of pain.

“Such a sweet pussy. Just like I knew it would be.” I raise my hips at his words, seeking and craving more. He enters me with one finger, then another, adding to the feeling and bringing me closer.

Just as I get ready to break over the edge, he removes his fingers. “What are you doing?” I give him a pained look and sigh heavily.

“It’s called the plateau, each one higher than the next until I decide to let you go to the top.”

“But I’m ready,” I plead, trying to tug his face close to my area of need. I’d sell my soul for him to get me there now.

“Trust me,” he coos, and I whimper as he returns to torture me.

Over and over, I ascend and he pulls back at just the right second to keep me from falling into a delicious orgasm. I writhe on the bed, squirm in need on the covers, and claw at his head, but he continues to unleash his wicked tongue on me. And he’s right—each time the plateau is higher and getting to a near release is shorter. He has me in his thrall as a prisoner.

“This time, Cali,” he urges as he returns his attention to my body.

I’m near incoherent when my legs begin to shake and a scream leaves my mouth. I bite my lip to focus on the pleasure as it rips through every cell of my body. It’s like the force raises me off the bed and I float down back to earth a changed creature.

I lie there and roll my head from side-to-side. “Was that a dream?”

“All of it was real, baby.” He gives my sensitive clit a last lick and I nearly convulse.

“Now, I need to fuck you into tomorrow,” he declares, ripping his shirt from his body. Buttons fly, seams rip, and it’s hot as fuck.

“Please…” I reach up to caress his now bare chest and glide my fingers over the solid planes and strong angles. He’s like a God made of stone, but all flesh and bone.

Removing his pants, he tosses them to the floor and walks around the bed in his black boxer briefs, the tip of his cock peeking from the elastic. I lick my lips, wanting to taste him, too.

He opens a drawer on his nightstand and pulls out a condom. I imagine him doing this two-hundred times before tonight and my mood of bliss lifts. Dammit. I won’t think about them—the ghosts of orgasms past. He could have had someone else tonight, but he wanted me.

“Where’d you go, baby?” Brady asks, and I blink my eyes. He’s no longer at the nightstand. Instead, he stands at the foot of the bed, boxers gone and a big, lovely cock pointing straight for me. I breathe deep and run my tongue over my lips.

“I was just thinking.”

“Just feel tonight, Cali. Feel me fucking you.” He rips the condom from the package and rolls it on before I can blink. “I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

He climbs on the bed and grasps my ankles while pulling me down toward his knees.

“But I’m one of so many.”

“You’re the one and only.” He stares at me, his gaze serious, without a flinch in his proclamation. He truly means it. He raises one ankle and begins to kiss it.

“I ran into the woman who cursed me,” he says, his tone matter of fact. She’s the last person who slept in this bed besides me. A wave of jealousy rushes over me. “She congratulated me on my engagement. Seems the curse she put on my dick can only be cured by one woman.”

“She said that?” I ask, my mouth hanging open. “Do you think she’s right?”

“Let’s find out,” he says, angling himself above me.