Play: Free Romance eBook (Completion 1) (3 page)

What the hell did you wear to a football game in an indoor arena anyway? What did it matter? He probably wouldn’t even see me or I him. I might just go, watch the game, and return to my apartment where Big Ben waited.

I called Amanda.

“Really, Becca, there’s no dress code. Be comfortable—comfortable shoes and a lightweight top will do. The stadium’s cooled, but still gets warm when all the hot bodies pile in.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I hadn’t told Amanda or Lyle, my prerequisite black, gay friend, as he called himself, how I got the tickets, just that I had them and they were invited. Amanda was great in that she didn’t ask too many questions, because her mind was currently filled with finding a student-teaching position. But she did enjoy football and went to all the college’s games. She also stood nine inches shorter than me and made me feel goliath. Lyle was two inches shorter than me, an arts major, and completely gay since before puberty. He
really
enjoyed football but only because of the sweaty players.

If I did happen to see Killian and he didn’t care for Lyle’s lifestyle, that would be that. I had no room for homophobic macho athletes, even if they dripped orgasmic scent into my bloodstream.

Amanda picked me up in her seven-year-old Honda Civic. Lyle already occupied the shotgun position, so I folded my tall frame into the back and turned slightly sideways to accommodate my legs. I wore my ocean-blue capris and a gray cropped t-shirt with a bright yellow Tweety Bird on the front. White deck shoes minus socks covered my feet. I had put my hair in a ponytail and propped large, dark sunglasses on my head for effect.

As we drew closer to the stadium, Lyle turned to me. “Let me see those tickets so we can try and park by the entrance we need.”

I removed them from my small, cross-over-the-shoulder purse, and handed them forward.

A minute later, Lyle turned my way again. “Umm, who gave you these tickets?”

I looked into his questioning eyes. “Why? What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re for the VIP skybox.”

“What?” Amanda and I asked at the same time.

Lyle gave me a look. “Sooo, do I need to ask again or will you give up your sugar daddy?”

I laughed at the thought of Mac the Knife being any woman’s sugar daddy. “Killian MacGregor sent them to me.”

“What the hell?” Amanda swerved through two lanes of traffic and exited the freeway nowhere close to our turnoff. I breathed a sigh of relief that we survived her display of missile evasive driving. Lyle, totally unaffected by our near brush with death, looked at me with something like horror on his face.

“What?” I asked with absolute innocence.

Amanda pulled over in the first parking lot she came to, put the car in park, turned my way and glared. “How the hell do you know Killian MacGregor?”

Before I could answer, Lyle spoke slowly, “You mean Mac the Knife, starting quarterback for the Scorpions, Killian MacGregor?”

I kept the nonchalant look on my face. “That would be him. I met him at that party my sister took me to a while back.”

“Bu…bu…but I set you up on two dates and you’ve had Killian MacGregor on the hook?” Amanda sputtered.

I dropped my evasive act and gave a sigh. “Look, I received the tickets earlier this week, but it’s the first time I’ve heard from the man since the party. One of the players got a little out of line, Killian stepped in and I’m sure this is his way of making things good. I had no idea the tickets were for some skybox.”

“Not just a skybox…the VIP skybox. And girlfriend…we’re totally underdressed.” Lyle glared at Tweety Bird. I knew it was the bird because he had no interest in my breasts.

I looked down at myself and sighed. “Look, guys, we don’t have to go. I’ll treat you both to pizza and make up for it.”

Amanda pulled the car back onto the road. “Over my dead body. Killian MacGregor sends VIP tickets and we are damn well taking advantage of it. I can’t believe you would seriously go out for pizza.” The disgust in her voice came through loud and clear.

“If you don’t want Mr. MacGregor, I’ll take him,” Lyle said with pure muscle worship in his voice. “That man gets more than just the juices flowing, if you know what I mean.”

Thinking about Lyle’s juices flowing was not a pleasant thought and I seriously had no idea what
more
he was talking about. “I doubt we’ll even see him.”

“Oh, baby girl, we’ll see him. These tickets kind of seal that deal,” Lyle practically purred.

I wanted to slap the smug look off his face. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“It’s my dick that will go up once I’m in the same room with him.”

“Not a pretty picture, perv,” Amanda said in a cheerful voice.

It took twenty more minutes to arrive at the stadium and by this time I was way past worried. All week I’d dealt with the prospect of going to the game; enjoying time with my friends, watching a sport I knew nothing about, and getting a small peek at Killian. But I convinced myself I wouldn’t be talking to him. Now, Lyle had my heart racing and my knees feeling weak. I was willing to admit the lack of circulation could be caused by the tight quarters in the backseat and my scrunched up legs, but I had my doubts.

Men waving flags directed us inside the stadium parking lot and to a row of quickly filling spaces. So much for parking near the entrance we needed.

“Let’s get inside, out of the heat, and then we can walk around until we find our way to the skybox,” Lyle said as he looped his arms around our shoulders and steered us to follow the rest of the crowd.

Most people wore purple and white, the team colors. Even Amanda sported a team jersey. Lyle looked halfway dignified in a form-fitting pair of jeans and an off-white, untucked short-sleeved linen shirt. Tweety Bird and I were out of place. We handed our tickets over at the turnstile.

“Wait right here, please.” The woman immediately spoke into her portable radio while gesturing us to the side.

She ignored us after that, but a minute later an electric cart pulled up. “I’ll take you to the elevator,” the driver said.

Amanda squeezed my hand as we stepped on board. “You’re sure you haven’t seen him once these past two months?”

“I’m sure.” Somehow my voice sounded normal, at least to my ears. I saw Killian MacGregor every night in my dreams. I needed to stop thinking about what he did to me in those dreams, because it was either girl sweat or my lady bits had just leaked again.

When we stepped from the elevator, a woman wearing a white blouse and black uniform pants checked our tickets. She didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow when she said, “Right this way.” We followed while staring at the luxury offered on this floor. It only proved we didn’t truly belong.

The first thing I noticed were men dressed in suits. About a dozen people stood around talking inside the skybox, all looking like they were dining in an exclusive restaurant. One younger woman actually wore a skin-tight, sequined purple jersey that displayed her playboy breasts. Slowly, all eyes turned our direction, and it was obvious these people thought we had the wrong room. Cut that…wrong floor.

The lady with the night club jersey stepped forward, put her dainty, well-manicured hand out, cranked her head back to look me in the eye, and said, “You must be Rebecca. I’m Malory, Blitz’s wife. Killian asked me to keep an eye out for you and your friends and make you feel at home.”

“Tha…thank you. Um…these are my friends Amanda and Lyle.”

“Hi.” Amanda the talker failed me with her one-word greeting.

“Hi, gorgeous, I’m Lyle.”

Malory shook their hands and looked genuinely pleased to meet us. She leaned in close to me and conspiratorially whispered, “Don’t let the big shots,” she nodded at the suited gentlemen standing around us, “intimidate you. They’re nothing but big fluffy puppy dogs when you get to know them.”

I finally managed to exhale. I had hated Malory on sight because she was everything I wasn’t: short, buxom, blonde, and absolutely stunning. But I could forgive her anything for making me and my friends feel welcome.

She introduced us to everyone; the team owner, his wife, and staff echelon. I stopped trying to remember names. Malory walked us to the bar, in the opposite corner from the door, told us to order whatever beverage we wanted, and to also order from the menu. Our food would be delivered. Two huge television screens took up the side walls. This was another world, but as awkward as I felt, what I really wanted was to stare down at the field and catch my first glimpse of Killian.

“This is fucking unbelievable,” Lyle whispered in my ear. “You’ve struck gold, baby girl.”

I shot daggers of fire his way and as discreetly as I could and gave him a short painful nipple twist. Of course, he loved it and managed only a small gasp. Amanda was right, he was a huge perv, but every kinky thing I’d learned about sex came from his verbal sharing of escapades. Too bad, besides nipple twisting, I’d never been able to try them on anyone.

Malory directed us to the front seats, which were to the right of the owner and his group, but separated by an aisle. “These are Killian’s and he wants you sitting here,” she said when I gave her a, “No I’d rather sit in the very back” look.

Just as we took the proffered seats, the crowd started clapping and cheering. I looked down at the field and saw Killian, helmet dangling from his hand, leading the team onto the field at a steady jog.

Oh my fucking my
.

In street clothes, he was a wet dream, but in pads, the number twenty jersey, and skin-tight football pants…totally cream-dream worthy. Damp hair hung just a little below his ears and was plastered to his head. He made the wet shaggy style look scrumptious. I continued to subconsciously drool as he sat on the grass, spread his legs, and stretched.

“Heart attack here. Where’s the medic?” Amanda said in a low voice.

Malory heard, laughed, and said too loudly, “We keep smelling salts on hand for just this purpose.”

“I need some of those,” Lyle said with the same loud voice.

I couldn’t believe it when everyone laughed or at least grinned. Lyle always had that way about him—totally secure in his sexuality, even in a group of macho professional sports icons.

The game started and Killian went directly in after the kickoff. He threw two passes and then handed the ball off to a teammate. I knew this because Amanda and Lyle quietly explained everything going on. Right before the Scorpions punted, Killian slow-jogged to the sidelines and watched intently while the other team’s quarterback did his thing.

The ball was punted again and Killian returned to the field.

Two handoffs, one pass, and on the next play, Killian threw a forty-yard touchdown. The fans went crazy, I leapt from my chair and cheered before noticing there was very little fanfare inside the box. Heat traveled to my cheeks, but Malory just laughed.

“This is pre-season and there will be a lot of player substitutions. Neither team will show their best stuff until the regular season starts.”

While Malory talked, I turned my eyes to Killian. Players slapped him on the back as he walked to the sideline. About ten feet from the white line, he turned, looked up toward the skybox, and blew a kiss.

Holy shit
.

“He’s kinda into you if you haven’t figured that out yet.” At least this time Malory managed to lean forward and speak in a semi-low voice.

I intertwined my fingers and pulled them close to my chest. They’d begun to tremble. I think Lyle and Amanda were just as stunned as I was. I sat in contemplative silence, waiting for Killian to return to the field, but it never happened. Malory explained that they didn’t want to risk injuring their star quarterback, and because the second and third string quarterback positions were up for grabs, the team wanted to check out its other options
.
I listened with half an ear, never taking my eyes off Killian. He remained focused the entire game, talked to the coach a few times, encouraged some players, and never looked back up at the skybox.

The Scorpions won thirty-five to fourteen.

I’d barely touched the finger foods we’d ordered and only drank a bottle of water. I turned to Amanda and Lyle. “You guys up for that pizza I promised you?”

Malory answered for them. “Killian told me to bring you and your friends to the locker room. Eat some of this food or order something else. We’ll go down in about forty-five minutes.”

I looked at Lyle and Amanda and asked, “Are you guys good with that?”

Lyle’s face showed deep concentration. “Let’s see…me, in a locker room full of muscle-bound athletes? Chances of catching a few naked? I think I can handle the strain.”

Malory looked at Lyle with a patient grin. “If I were you, I’d keep my eyes up. These are macho jocks after all.”

“Gotcha, sister.”

“I’m with Lyle. There’s no way on earth I’d miss this.” Amanda’s eyes were huge.

Damn, I was a nervous wreck and they were no help. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, which kept me from eating.

Malory made small talk with Amanda and Lyle, casting curious looks my way now and then, but asked me few questions. The owner, his wife and his crew cleared out five minutes after the game ended without saying goodbye to anyone. A few of the others left, while we just continued to hang.

Finally, Malory told us to follow her and we trailed behind with the same wide-eyes that we had when we entered the secret world of pro football. It took ten minutes to get to the underground locker room. As we approached, I heard voices, laughter, the occasional shout and general camaraderie. Malory didn’t check to see if everyone was decent, she just pushed through the door and started congratulating the players she came to.

My eyes circled the room looking for one person.

“Pure fucking eye candy coming from your right,” Lyle whispered in my ear.

I turned and there he was—freshly showered, tight black t-shirt molding his broad shoulders and muscled chest, tapering to a sleek waist, with black jeans accenting his long legs. I took it all in, unable to breathe. No picture on television or the Internet did him justice.

His brown, melting eyes looked into mine—he took my hand, leaned in, and kissed me on the forehead. “Thank you for coming.”

His luscious scent almost knocked me over and I was going to come any second. My lady parts were quivering in time with my heartbeat. His hand sent an extra zing to my clit, and like the fool I was, like the last time I saw him, I stumbled for words. “Um, well thank you for inviting me…us, I mean.” Yep, I had completely forgotten my best friends. Mac the Knife’s lips were about six inches from mine and they looked better than my favorite dessert.

“Hi, Mr. MacGregor. I’m Amanda and this is Lyle.” My best friend finally saved me.

I turned and gave her a relieved smile.

“Hi, Amanda. Please call me Killian.” He switched my hand to his left one, tucked me loosely into his side, shook Amanda’s hand, and then greeted Lyle. “Pleasure to meet you, Lyle.”

I think Lyle was in just as much trouble as I was. His usual flirty, devil-may-care repertoire deserted him and he settled for a handshake followed by a choked, “Nice to meet you, too.” Though he managed to say it without stumbling.

Killian pulled me even closer. “I was hoping I could take you all out to dinner if you don’t have other plans.”

Lyle’s eyes lit up, but Amanda cut in. “Actually, I need to get back to campus and Lyle has rehearsal first thing in the morning.”

This was news to me and it took about two seconds to realize Amanda was lying through her teeth. Lyle caught on just as quickly and declined, though his eyes showed genuine remorse.

“Another time then?” Killian gave them both his dimpled smile and I saw my friends melt just like I did.

“Yes, definitely. We’ll hold you to that,” Amanda said as she looked over toward the door. “Will someone be able to show us out of here?”

“I’ll have security escort you. Thanks for coming and I hope you had a good time.”

“Oh, believe me, we did.” Amanda leaned in and gave me a hug. Lyle landed a quick kiss on my cheek, not caring that a muscular arm surrounded me, and I was pretty sure I heard a decisive inward sniff. Yep, Killian smelled that good and Lyle’s eyes went dreamy. Killian lifted his free hand, gaining the attention of the guard at the door. “Sammy, could you see my friends out, please?”

“Sure, Killian.”

Lyle and Amanda followed the guard and I was left with Killian and half his remaining teammates.

“Let me grab my bag and we’ll get out of here.” He dropped his arm from my shoulder, but grabbed my hand. We passed a comfortable sitting area and kept going into the main part of the locker room. The huge alcoves held gear and personal items. Killian grabbed his bag and we both turned.

Stump stood in our path.

Killian’s fingers tightened on mine. “Back off, Stump.”

The behemoth looked at me then at Killian. “I owe your lady an apology.” He turned back to me. “I’m really sorry for making a complete ass of myself and doing and saying what I did.”

I squeezed Killian’s hand in return, and knew my face was beet red. “No worries. I’m going to use the experience for my college thesis.”

Stump’s jaw dropped and his face went red.

“I’m teasing,” I said with a genuine smile.

He grinned, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Killian’s lips tilt up, though his eyes still burned holes in the poor guy. “Goodbye, Stump.” He used the same commanding voice he used with me.

“Goodbye, Killian. Goodbye…”

“Rebecca.”

“Goodbye, Rebecca,” Stump mumbled and then made a hasty retreat.

“Thank you.” Killian turned his now-softened, gorgeous moon-pie eyes on me.

“Why?” I asked.

“He’s a nice guy when he isn’t drinking. Has my back when I’m on the field. He’s a pain in my ass, but still a friend.”

“You’re welcome.” My head cocked back so I could look into his eyes and I was in heaven.

He turned, gave a firm tug to my hand and I followed him out. My eyes were glued to his backside, causing me to stumble over a discarded shirt lying on the floor.

“Sorry,” Killian said over his shoulder and slowed down.

“Not a problem.” Walking at a more leisurely pace gave me more time to admire his tight ass. Killian didn’t introduce me to any of his teammates and no one stopped us.

There was actually an underground garage, so I didn’t melt from the outside heat, but I still dissolved into the seat of his car. I know a low moan escaped my lips, but Killian just showed his dimples and buckled me in. I wondered what he’d do if I pulled him tightly against me and sniffed…for an hour or two.

He opened his door and folded into the seat with absolute grace despite his size.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered, turning my way. He unlatched my seat belt and pulled me in for the most mouthwatering kiss I’d ever had.

His hard lips molded to mine. His tongue ran over my teeth, tasted, dipped deeper and then plunged. His hands went to my ponytail, effortlessly sliding out the elastic before spreading his fingers to either side of my scalp. He sank farther into the kiss, making promises with his lips.

He tasted so fucking good.

When he pulled back, I actually whimpered. The sound he made was more like the rumbling growl of a lion. He took my lower lip between his teeth and pulled slightly before letting go. He put distance between us and I immediately missed his mouth.

“We’ll eat at my house.” He kissed my forehead, reached over, grabbed the seat belt, and fastened me in again. My hands went to my hair as I looked around for the hair tie.

“Leave it.”

I stopped my search, but couldn’t help running my fingers through the mussed tangles. Killian’s hand captured mine. “No.” He released my fingers just as fast as he verbalized the one word.

Okay, I wasn’t a pushover, didn’t have much experience with guys, but I had some. I should have argued, straightened my hair anyway, or even voiced some sort of displeasure. But an intense electrical pulse shot straight to the juncture of my thighs, charged my clit, and there I went and tried to stain his upholstery again.

I kept my mouth shut.