Stadium of Lights: A Second Chance Sports Romance (8 page)

I
woke
with only two things on my mind: The incredible miracle that was the night before, and what Max was doing to me with his hands while I slowly returned to consciousness. We were in his bed, me on my side, facing away from him. I’d fallen asleep that way, curled up against the warmth of his body.

It still seemed like a dream. No way the man I had wanted for so long actually wanted me. No way he was with me right then, on his king-sized bed in his exquisite grand mansion. No way he was touching me, pleasuring me again. There was still a low, deep throb between my thighs from the riding he’d done the night before. It was quickly replaced by the throb of need as he aroused me.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t do anything except touch me. His hand skimmed over my side, from shoulder to hip, then down over my thigh. I smiled to myself, facing away from him, then closed my eyes to sink into his touch. He was so good, so skilled and sure of himself. He knew just what to do, so I let him do it.

His hand moved back up, then down again. Up, then down. I sighed, arching my back a bit, and his hand moved around to my front. My breasts soon fell prey to his touch as he stroked and fondled, playing with me, making me strain and gasp the further he went. He moved closer to me, his cock pressing against my lower back. I felt hot wetness pool between my legs at the promise his hard member represented. Mind-bending bliss.

He ground against me as his wandering hand cupped my breasts, his thumb circling the nipples and flicking them until they hardened. I gasped, as little tingling bolts of lightning continued to shoot between my legs. It was all too good. I leaned back, wrapping an arm around his neck, pulling his face to mine for a deep, searching kiss. His tongue fluttered in my mouth, making me pant and whimper almost as much as his fingers did. They’d found the spot where my thighs met, sliding between them, nudging them apart. I opened my legs eagerly, and his fingers dove into my clit, sliding through my wetness. I gasped, his mouth still covering mine, and began rocking my hips back and forth. I rode his hand, my desire growing and building with each flick of his fingers over my clit, with each flutter of his tongue against mine. He broke our kiss, and I cried out as his mouth found my throat, sucking and licking as I rode harder, searching for release. Every movement from my hips made me rub against his dick, and he was panting just as hard as I was.

“Oh, God! Max!” My back arched sharply, thrusting my breasts forward as wave after blissful wave swept over me. I trembled a little, then relaxed. He still stroked me, gently, but his cock was as hard and obvious as ever. He rubbed it against me, over my ass. I groaned, rubbing against him to signal my need.

I hardly caught my breath before he flipped me onto my back. My hands traveled his body while he unrolled a condom, his tan skin gleaming in the morning sunlight. He was beautiful, perfect, each muscle so clearly defined. Solid, powerful, overwhelming. I could have looked at him all day and been satisfied.

I could do more than look, though. As soon as Max was able, he took my hands from him and pinned them to the headboard above my head. I gasped, my body trembling like he’d shocked me. I couldn’t believe my response. I was more turned on than ever, blood rushing back between my thighs in a surge.

He pushed my legs open with his knee, a dark and demanding look in his eyes. I gave in willingly, ecstatically. Without a word he plunged into me, filling me with one robust stroke. I gasped, throwing my head back in complete delight. This was what I needed. A man to meet my passion with his, then take me higher than I ever thought I could go. I needed a man who could show me things about myself I didn’t know. Like the way, I loved when he dominated me. I never knew I would love that the way I did.

“You like that?” he whispered, driving himself into me again and again. I whimpered my approval, staring up into his eyes. He held my wrists with one hand, his free hand traveling down my body. He squeezed my breast, pinching the nipple until I cried out. But it was all so good. Too good.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “You’re mine now.”

“Yes!” I didn’t know what I was saying or thinking. It seemed imperative to agree as he drove his cock into my trembling pussy again and again, driving me crazy, breaking me apart. Making me scream and shake with ecstasy. Yes, I was his. My body was all his, as long as he kept making me feel good. I screamed and strained, tightening around him until I came with a shuddering cry. I was always his. I was never anybody else’s.

He didn’t wait until I finished, letting go of my hands and rolling over until I was on top of him, with him still throbbing inside me and my body still quivering around him. I rode hard, my body already wanting more though the past pleasure hadn’t faded away. It built again, fast and hard, consuming me. I didn’t come. I hit a plateau that went on and on. It terrified me, the height I hit. What if I fell? His hands clasped mine, squeezing. He kept me safe. I closed my eyes, floating on the waves as I rode him hard, harder, bouncing so hard my breasts almost ached. And still, I rode, my greedy body wanting all he could give me.

“Yes! Fuck yes! Oh, God!” I squeezed his hands until my fingers ached, crying out as the plateau broke and I fell back to Earth. His strokes from below me quickened until he grunted with his final release, growling with his teeth clenched.

I collapsed on top of him, then rolled away. It took what felt like forever to recover, aftershocks running through me and making me tremble. I giggled a little, biting my lip to keep from laughing. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me, though I’d heard of women laughing after sex before. Since when was I one of them?

“You okay?” he asked with a quiet sort of laugh. I blushed, turning my face away. “Hey. You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.”

I turned back, still trying not to giggle. “I don’t know what happened back there,” I said. “I really don’t.”

“It’s okay. It just means you liked it.” He grinned, stretching. “That would make two of us.”

It had to be a dream. It just had to.

* * *

W
e napped
, then woke up a few hours later. It was truly morning at that point, closer to afternoon actually. His day off, and mine. I wished I knew what he planned to do with it. Would he want to spend it with me, or with his teammates? I didn’t have anything better to do. Unfortunately—my big plans had involved looking for a house and possibly watching a few old movies. I didn’t have any friends in the area to get together with, so that was out, and I didn’t know where all the new places were. The town had changed so much in only ten years.

I took a quick shower in Max’s enormous master bath, a room that reminded me more of a spa than a private bathroom. It had all the amenities—a heated floor, a large whirlpool tub, the works. I wished I could spend time soaking, but it was that weird feeling of “should I be here or shouldn’t I?” that stopped me. Did he want me to hang around? I decided to play it safe and make a hasty exit.

Only I couldn’t, since when I managed to find my way downstairs, the smell of food led me to the chef’s kitchen. Max stood at the stove, scrambling eggs. “Do you still like them scrambled?” he asked.

“Um, yes. Thank you.”

“I thought we could both use a little protein after all that working out.” He winked, then turned back to the stove. I could only gasp at him, open-mouthed. Who was he, and what had he done with Max? This couldn’t be the same Max who used women and tossed them aside like it was nothing. It couldn’t be the Max who had one of the worst bad-boy reputations in the NFL. I’d done my research on him over the days since we’d been thrown together again, and what I’d learned had been quite illuminating.

The picture of the man by the stove didn’t quite work with the image he’d created for himself, but I liked seeing him there just the same. He was thoughtful, considerate. And he wasn’t throwing me out of the house, which was a big plus.

I only wore a robe, since my clothes from the game were still in a shopping bag in his car. He tossed me the keys so I could get them out, and breakfast was ready by the time I finished dressing. It smelled delicious.

It was also a feast. Along with the eggs, he’d made half-dozen slices of toast, a half-pound of bacon, roasted tomatoes and asparagus and fruit salad. I marveled at the amount of food he ate in one sitting, not to mention the fact that he’d made it himself.

“I try to cook for myself whenever I can,” he explained, smearing peanut butter on a piece of whole-wheat toast. “Ladies love a man who can cook.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” I smirked, remembering how sexy he’d looked by the stove.

I looked around the room, admiring as I did at the rest of the house. “It’s beautiful. The whole place is really stunning.” He’d gone for a mostly white motif, with touches of pale yellow, blue and gray throughout. The kitchen looked like it had come out of a professional restaurant with its eight-burner range, dual ovens, and even a wood-burning pizza oven. We sat at the island, the food spread out before us like a buffet. I took what I needed—not much—and he pretty much took care of the rest.

“So. What are your plans for the day?” he asked, munching a mouthful of fruit.

“I didn’t have any,” I admitted. “I’m still fairly new in town. I haven’t met anybody except for the people on the team.”

“Hmm.” What did that mean? I questioned myself silently while he continued eating. What was he trying to say? Was he trying to rush me along? He hadn’t said anything about having plans of his own. I figured that was my cue to hurry up and get out of there, so I sped through the rest of my food—not that I had an appetite anymore—and prepared to make my exit. I would think about my feelings once I was alone. I’d probably spend all day, if not more, thinking about what we did. But the immediate priority was getting away from him and the awkwardness that I suddenly felt.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked when I put my plate in the sink.

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought I would get out of your hair. I’m sure you have things to do.” I smiled when I turned back to him and was surprised to see him frowning. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go ahead, do what you wanna do.” He helped himself to more eggs and vegetables.

“Please, tell me. I know something’s up.”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, looking down at his plate. I sighed.

“Can we please stop playing games? What do you want?”

His head snapped up. “I wanted to hang out on the beach today with you if you wanted to. Or we could go to town, and you could see what’s new, or we could go out somewhere else. I don’t care. I just figured since you didn’t have anything else to do—unless you were just saying that.”

I warmed all over. “I wasn’t just saying that. I thought you would have better things to do, so I wanted to leave you to it.”

“Nothing imperative,” he said. I wondered what that meant. Who was he brushing off for me? His cheerleader friend? I couldn’t help thinking about her from time to time as we ate. Had he ever cooked breakfast for her, the little slut?

He must have seen the change in my expression when I thought about her. “You just thought of something that pissed you off, huh?”

I chuckled. “You still know me so well.”

“I can’t help it. That’s just how it is.” He shrugged, and his boyish grin melted my heart—which was saying something since he had already melted my heart down to almost nothing. Then, I thought of something.

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” I said, biting my lip.

“That’s okay. I don’t either. It’s a private beach. No trespassing, no visitors of any kind. We’re safe.”

“Max!” I was scandalized at the thought. “I’ll burn up in the sun. With this fair skin?”

“Don’t worry,” he smirked. “I’ll rub plenty of sunscreen on you.”

I
couldn’t get
my head into practice the next day. Maybe because in my head I was still on the beach with Abby. Naked. Lying in the sun, laughing, swimming, making out. Barely making it back to the house before we fucked right there on the stairs. It would have taken too long to make it up to the bedroom.

I smiled to myself, then looked out over the seats in the training facility. There she was, sitting in the stands, talking with two of the coaches and a member of the physical therapy team. She knew her shit, and I could tell by the looks on their faces they were impressed with her. She’d done her research on the team in a very short time, knew all of our physical conditions inside and out and had a treatment plan put together for all of us. How she’d managed to get it all done in such a short amount of time, I had no idea.

“Max! Come on, get your head in the play!” Coach looked pissed, and I shook my head to get a hold of my senses.

“Long day off, Max?” Garrett winked at me from behind the face guard of his helmet.

“Never mind,” I grumbled.

“Oh, come on.” Jared trotted over. “We all know you drove off with that cute little piece of ass on Sunday, after the dinner. I mean, why else would you be fucking up so bad today?”

“What did she do to you?” Trey asked, chuckling. Already they were on me like vultures, and they didn’t know what we had done. I had to make a decision and fast.

“We didn’t do anything, okay? We talked it out, and I took her home. That was it.”

“Oh, really?” Garrett and Jared exchanged surprised looks. I didn’t care they would probably make fun of me even worse for not taking advantage of her. All that mattered was that they didn’t try to take what happened and turn it into something nasty, like the way we always talked about the women we were with. I would have talked about Layla or any of the others like that, but not Abby. She was different.

The voice in my head sneered at me.
Why don’t you tell the truth? You don’t want them to know you were with her because you don’t like that you were with her.

I thought about it way too much, when I shouldn’t have. I needed to get my head around practice, around getting the ball into the hands of my receivers. Instead, I kept underthrowing, overthrowing. I even got sacked twice. It was a pitiful performance, and I deserved every filthy thing Coach Cramer shouted to me.

The whole time, Abby played it cool. Nobody would have known she had been with me since Sunday night, that I only dropped her off to get her car early that morning. That we’d had sex three times since breakfast on Monday. She was totally innocent. And there I was, thinking she would be something to worry about. I was the one who needed worry. I was the one screwing everything up.

It was so bad, the coach felt the need to pull me aside after practice. I’d showered and changed quietly, away from the others. I couldn’t get into their jokes, not when I had no idea what the fuck was happening in my head. Was I ashamed that we were together? No, that couldn’t have been it. Then what was it?

“What is with you, Max?” I sat across from Coach at a little table in his office. It was filled from top to bottom with memorabilia from his days as a player all the way up through the present day. Almost fifty years of memories in one room. Trophies, framed jerseys, pictures, two game balls. How he got it all in there, I would never know.

“I have no idea. I guess I don’t feel too well today.”

“Bullshit. You’ve never fucked around at practice like you just did out there. Do I have to start getting Mo warmed up to take over for you in Denver?”

My head snapped up, my eyes meeting his. “Hell no!”

“I thought that might wake you up a bit,” he grinned. “But don’t think I’m joking because I’m not. I’ll put him in faster than you can blink an eye if you don’t get your shit together. You’re a good quarterback, Max. I don’t have to tell you that. But I can’t let your personal shit, whatever it is, get in the way of your game. Denver’s not gonna be a pushover.”

“I know. I’ll be better tomorrow. I swear it.” Just how I would be better, I didn’t know. Things had been so perfect with Abby—I hated to use the word, but it was the right one. They were perfect. And I couldn’t have that because it might mean she would want things to keep being perfect. No way we could stay together. No way.

Only it didn’t seem like she wanted to stay together. In fact, when I stopped by her office after talking with Coach, she wasn’t there. It looked like she had already locked up for the day.