Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (11 page)

B
ack at the Bulls stadium
, there’s a whole big to-do and photo op with me, Archie and a bunch of the team board members.

London pointedly stands to the side, checking her phone and making notes on a very official looking clipboard.

They even get some shots of me giving a thumbs up as I sign a contract against Archie’s back - all staged, of course, but this shit will be all over ESPN by tomorrow. At this point, of course, I’ve already broken it to my Rattlesnakes teammates that I’m most likely going to be leaving.

Definitely not some of the more fun conversations I’ve ever had.

“So!” Archie claps his hands together, grinning at me after we’re done with the photos. “You probably want to get a look at the facilities, don’t you?”

I only have time to nod before he’s turning towards his daughter, still posted to the side pretending I’m not here.

“London, honey!”

She looks up, and this time, I make good on my self-promise not to get all tripped up around her like some sort of teenager. This time, I wink at her salaciously over her dad’s shoulder when she glances up.

She glares at me.

“London, why don’t you show Holden around the place? Give him a once-over of the facilities?”

I can see her mouth sour and her face stiffen.

“Sir, I would
love
that,” I say eagerly, smirking at her.

She glares daggers at me, and I can tell she
wants
to say something, but she holds it back and just shrugs.

“Sure, Dad,” she says, smiling at her father.

She moves past him and brushes past me, elbowing my arm sharply.

“Let me show you the facilities, Mr. Cade,” she says brusquely.

“Yes ma’am,” I say, tipping an imaginary hat before I fall into step behind her.

I follow her as we make our way into the hallways of the lower-depths of the stadium, watching that tight ass of hers with every damn step. We stop at a door, and it’s not until she coughs loudly that I look up and grin, realizing she’s just caught me.

She frowns. “Were you just staring at my ass?”

“Yep.” I shrug casually, grinning at her.

Her little scowl deepens. “Don’t.”

“I’ll try.”

London arches a brow. “You will?”

I chuckle. “Not really.”

She groans as she turns and yanks the door open.

“Fine, whatever. These are the locker rooms.”

They’re a piece of shit. Well, no, they’re a-state-of-the-art facility, but compared to Denver and the budget we had there, these are crap. But really, that's not at all what I’m thinking about once I follow her inside and let the door shut behind us.

Because right now, I’m alone with London Jacobs, with every
single
filthy thought I’ve had about her over the last week roaring through my head as I drink her in with my eyes.

Fuck, don’t do this.

But I’m not listening to reason, not right now. There’s blood pounding in my ears, and something primal inside roaring at the nearness of her.

“So, what do you-” She turns and stops short, seeing the fierce look in my eyes, her own going wide. She takes a shaky breath, swallowing thickly.

“What do you think?” she asks quietly, gesturing around us at the locker room.

“Don’t think you want to know what I think, sugar,” I say evenly.

She arches a brow. “Oh?”

“Nope.”

She smirks and crosses her arms across that v-neck blouse, which only serves to push those perfect tits up a little more.

“And why is that?”

I grin wider at her. “It’d probably just fluster you.”

She’s not drinking right now. We’re not a bottle deep in whiskey and she’s not letting her hair down now, like she did before. She’s all business in that blouse and those office-attire pants, her hair pulled up high and tight in a little bun.

She’s not on her back right now with her legs wrapped around my thighs.

She’s not moaning my name and saying the words “harder” and “faster”, scratching at my back while I give her every fucking inch.

Her face is flushed red, but she swallows again and straightens herself up.

“I don’t fluster easily,” she says icily.

“Bullshit.”

London rolls her eyes. “You really think I can do the work I do and work with the kind of people I work with if I got
flustered
anytime some cocky jock wanted to say something crude?”

“Actually I was thinking I wanted to push you up against those lockers behind you, push those pants and your panties down to your knees, wrap your hair around my fist, and fuck you like I know you’ve been dying to be fucked ever since the other night.”

The words come before I can stop them, but at that point, I doubt I could if I wanted to.

London goes silent, her face goes crimson, and her soft lips form an o-shape.

I smirk.

“That’s
what I was thinking.”

She’s blinking quickly, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

“So, not flustered, huh?”

I grin as I take a step towards her.

She quickly shakes her head side to side. “Nope.”

I keep moving into her until she’s pressed up against the lockers behind her, her breath catching in her chest.

“Still not?”

She shakes her head. “Hardly.”

My hands go to her waist, sliding up her blouse, and
just
trailing across the side-swell of her tits. She gasps slightly, but she doesn’t do or say anything. I move them back down her arms to her wrists, knocking the clipboard from her hands and shoving them up above her head as I lean in close.

“How about now,” I growl into her ear.

“Flustered?” She shrugs, but her eyes are wide and darting across my face. “Not in the slightest.”

I move one hand down over her neck, over the swell of her breast, and over her stomach. Her chest is heaving, her breath panting. I walk my fingers down further to the waist of her pants, and that’s when she whimpers.

“We’re
not
doing this,” she all but whimpers, her eyes darting across mine.

“Cause you don’t want to?”

“Because we shouldn’t.”

“So you
do
want to,” I growl.

“I didn’t say that,” she says quietly, her eyes flashing fire.

“So say it.”

She says nothing.

“So you’re not flustered or anything at all right now, right?

London swallows again, saying nothing and just shaking her head.

“Cool as a fucking cucumber, huh?”

She nods. “Mhmm. I told you, you can’t flust-”

“Darlin’,” I lean down to her face, my lips inches away from hers, and my hands still pinning hers above her head.

“I haven’t even
started
yet.”

My lips brush
just
over hers, and then it’s like a damn ocean crashing down on us.

London mashes her lips to mine, and then it’s all over. I growl as I mold my body against hers, pushing her back against the lockers. I let go of her hands, bringing mine down to grab her waist as her arms wrap around my neck. She moans as I cup her tight ass, my cock throbbing hard against her as she whimpers into my mouth.

We’re writhing against each other, as I reach down and pull her shirt out from where it’s tucked into those business pants. My hand moves to her jaw, cupping it as I kiss her fiercely before sliding up into her hair. I’m twisting it and pulling it out of its neatly tied up little bun as she moans into my mouth, before suddenly she’s pulling away with a sharp gasp.

“Stop.” She pulls away completely, her eyes flashing as she shakes her head. “No, we’re
not
doing this.”

“We already
did,
sugar.” I grin, feeling my pulse roar with pure
want
for her.

London shakes her head.

“That was before.”

“Before…what?” I raise a brow. “You got a rule against this down in Texas? Cause I gotta tell you that might be a deal break-”

“Before you came down to sign onto my
team
, Holden!” she hisses.

“I haven’t yet.”

“You’re going to though.”

I move against her. “I’m willing to put it off another hour,” I husk into her ear, hearing her breath catch.

She swallows, blinking like she’s thinking about it. But then she frowns and shakes her head slowly.

“There are a lot of girls in Houston, Holden.” She glares at me. “Pick one that isn’t your boss.”

I snort. “Oh is that what you are?”

“It’s what I
will
be.”

I grin as I move against her again. “Well that makes things interesting, now doesn’t it?”

She glares at me as she pushes me back. “It makes things
impossible
.”

“Hey, I’m not looking to
date
you, sugar.”

Her eyes narrow fiercely at me. “Oh
fuck you
,” she hisses. “I’d
never
date you.”

I shrug. “Perfect. Hey, I’m ready to keep it as just fucking whenever you want.”

I move my hips against her, letting her feel how fucking hard my cock is against her thigh. London’s eyes dart to mine as she rakes her teeth distractingly across her bottom lip.

“I’m not some groupie slut you know.”

I lean in close before she can stop me, and she gasps quietly and haltingly as I take her earlobe gently between my teeth, my breath hot against her neck.

“Yeah,” I growl. “But I’m wondering just how bad you
want me
to make you my little slut,” I rasp into her ear.

London fucking
moans
.

Or, at least I think she does, because right after that, she slaps me.

Fucking
hard
.

Oops.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” she hisses, jabbing a finger at my chest.

Yeah, she’s pissed.

London scowls at me once more before she pushes me aside and storms past me.

“Tour’s over, asshole. Let’s go.”

Well, there’s the line, and here I am about ten steps past it.

…Story of my fucking life.

W
ell
hell
.

How did I just let that happen again, exactly?

I’m sucking in breaths of air as I furiously tuck my blouse back into my pants, feeling my face burning hot and a wicked, sinful pulse throb between my legs.

How did I let that happen? Well, because he’s
right
, that’s how.

Because that night and the man I spent it with is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week, usually at wildly inappropriate times.

That’s
why I let it happen.

I run my fingers through my hair as I turn to see him still standing back by the row of lockers, his arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face. Damnit, why does he look so fucking
calm
and not at all flustered like I’m sure I look?

I glare at him, doing my best to fix my hair and tuck it back into its work-place bun.

“Let’s go.”

“Aww, no more tour?” Holden makes a fake pout face. “But I haven’t seen all the facilities.”

“You’ve seen enough,” I mutter.

“That’s debatable.” He grins. “But I can say I like what I’ve seen so far.”

The heat blooms traitorously into my face before I remember that I’m angry at him and force myself to glare at him again.

“My little slut.”

Jesus fucking Christ, who the hell does this prick think he is? And who even
talks
to women like that? I turn away from him, finally fixing my hair up into a messier bun than I’d normally ever leave the house with, but it’ll have to do. I smooth the front of my blouse and making sure it’s tucked all the way back in before I take another breath.

This isn’t me. I don’t go to pieces or get tongue tied like this. I’m in charge,
always.

…So how come I’m not around him, at all?

“Tour is
definitely
over,” I say firmly, reaching down and snatching my clipboard off the floor from where it was knocked. I give Holden one last cold look before I turn, yank the door to the locker room open, and walk
right
into Serena.

“Hi!” I blurt the word quickly, stumbling backwards and almost
into
Holden as he exits the locker room after me.

“Hi yourself?” Serena raises a single eyebrow at me, a suspicious little grin creeping at the corners of her mouth as my face goes bright red. I quickly clear my throat, praying that the flush clears with it.

“So what’s up?” I say, far too eagerly, nodding afterwards as though she’s already answered me, even though she’s still just smiling curiously.

“Uh, nothing much.” Serena raises a brow again as she subtly nods at my hair. My face goes bright crimson again with heat as I meekly reach up and push at the bun.

“Yeah, it’s so windy out today. It’s
killing
my hair.”

“Oh, yeah,” Serena nods, a serious look on her face. “Here, try this.”

She reaches into her bag and passes me a comb.

“
Real freaking windy in that locker room, huh?”
she mutters under her breath as she passes it to me.

I swallow thickly.

“I was just showing Holden here the facilities.”

Serena smiles, wagging her eyebrows at me as she looks past me.

“Well of
course
you were.” She gives me another quick knowing look before she puts her hand out. “Welcome to the Bulls, Mr. Cade.”

I glare at her.

“Holden, this is my secretary, Serena.”

She gives me a look and an eye-roll.

“Actually, Serena handles publicity around here.”

“Well, among
other
things,” Serena says in a purring tone, shooting Holden a look that gets my blood roaring.

Ugh, WHY would I possibly care about that?

I push those thoughts away as reach up to toy with my hair again.

“Anyways, we’re just finishing up a tour of the place.”

Serena nods. “Well, if you’re done, your dad and
your
agent,” she points at Holden, “wanted to see both of you up in the board room.”

* * *

I
let
Serena walk ahead with Holden, scowling at his back as we approach the board room.

“Oh,
sweetness!
”

I cringe at the grating sound of Joanne’s voice.

“Hate” is a strong word, and so I don’t
hate
my dad’s second wife, I just don’t really
like
her much. She and my dad met about ten years ago, and while it’s great that he finally found someone to settle down with after the shitty way my mom left when I was little, there’s something to be said about his taste in women.

Joanne’s got “gold-digger” practically written across her forehead. She’s only about eight years older than me, and as far as I can tell, has spent the majority of her life fretting over her looks and spending older men’s money. But, she makes my dad happy, so I basically decided a long time ago to just let it be.

The “sweetness” crap is from our first introduction, when she decided I was “far too involved in masculine things”, what with always watching football and hanging out at a pro stadium. She also thought my plans to travel the country scouting prospective players was “tawdry and lewd.”

She of course blamed it on my mother having left when I was so young, and decided I “needed a little feminine sweetness” in my life.

Hence, the nickname.

That,
I do hate.

“Hi, Joanne,” I say flatly, nodding at Serena to go on ahead with Holden.

“Are you here for the big signing?”

I don’t think Joanne has watched a game of football in her life, which is just one more bizarre facet of my dad, the football
nut,
being with her.

“Oh,
Lord no
,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll and a wave of her hand. “I just stopped by to pick up a little
walking around money
from your father.”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

“I’m on my way to Bermuda, actually,” she says, pulling a compact out of her purse and peering into it as she pokes at the corners of her eyes. “You know how it is, London, sometimes us girls just need to get
away
from all the stresses of the day-to-day, you know?”

Joanne’s “stresses of the day-to-day” are, at worst, trying to figure out how to swap her esthetician appointment around so it won’t interfere with her life coaching session.

I push back the urge to make a comment about her trip and change the subject instead.

“Hey, Joanne, has my dad been taking his meds regularly? He was having some pain in his shoulder the other day and I just want to make sure he-”

“Oh,
honey
, I’m not his nurse!” Joanne says with a shrill little laugh, closing her compact and giving me a look.

I purse my lips together.

“Right, but you’re his
wife
, so would you mind terribly just making sure he’s taking all four every day?”

“London, your father is a grown man, you know.”

I narrow my eyes at her.

“Right, a grown man with high cholesterol and a history of heart issues, so could you
please
take five seconds out of your day to make sure he’s-”

Joanne sighs dramatically. “Oh
sweetness
,” she says with another laugh. “Still thinking about everyone else now aren’t we?”

I grind my teeth.

“And still single I take it?”

I frown. “I’m dating.”

“
Sure
you are, honey,” she smiles saccharinely at me. “Sure you are. Well don’t you fret, we’ll find a nice man for you yet!”

I glare at her, trying not to take the obvious bait.

“Thank you, Joanne, but I’m not worried about that.”

“
Apparently
not.”

The door to the conference room swings open as my dad pops his head out.

“There’s my girls! London, you about ready?”

I give Joanne one last glare.

“Enjoy Bermuda, Joanne.”

“Enjoy your
boys club
,” she says with a sigh.

“Oh, and London?” Joanne raises a brow at me. “Honey we have
got
to do something about that hair of yours.”

I swallow the heat from my face as I follow my dad into the conference room.

* * *

“
S
o
, what do you think, son?”

Dad claps his hands together eagerly, beaming at Holden.

This
is why he’s got me working for him, because although my dad
can
be a tough negotiator, it’s times like this when he’s excited about something working out where his poker face leaves a little bit to be desired.

Holden nods, that grin coming to his face.

“You know what, I really liked what I saw,” he announces to the room before turning and looking
directly
at me.

I scowl, clearing my throat.

“We’ve been going over your extracurricular track record,” I say icily, meeting his stare right back. My mind flashes back to the myriad of sordid pictures and tabloid stories involving Holden and an endless stream of half-naked girls giggling all over him. The same confusing heat from before comes bubbling up inside, before I angrily shove it back down.

Dad frowns. “Oh, I don’t think we need to get into that just yet, Lon-”

“No, Dad, I think we do, actually,” I say pointedly.

I’m going off-book here, and I know it. Holden might be
the
wildest, but it’s not like we’ve never recruited a pro football player that didn’t have some sort of party-boy history that needed some cleaning up.

But here I am, hanging onto it and getting more and more ticked off by the idea of his shenanigans with all those stupid other girls.

You are SO jealous…

I frown again at the voice inside my head, taking a deep breath and trying to bury it deep. I am
not
“jealous”;
please
. I knew exactly who and what Holden Cade was going into all that, and I’ll be damned if I let myself feel
used
like one of his little groupie skanks.

But, this also isn’t just some sort of personal bullshit. Holden behaving while on this team
is
my business.

“As I was saying, Mr. Cade, we’ve been looking over your tabloid record.”

Holden grins. “Oh yeah? Anything good?”

Some of the other board members snort out laughter as he turns and grins at them all, but I am
not
having it.

“Not really, no.” I shake my head tersely, keeping my eyes on his.

“If you pull some of that crap here in Houston, we’re going to have a problem.”

Dad puts a hand on my arm.

“I think we can discuss team behavior later, London.”

I scowl again, but this time, I drop it.

Holden clears his throat.

“To answer your question, Mr. Jacobs, yes sir, I’m interested.”

Dad beams again as Randy pats his client on the shoulder.

“Well then, should we break out the official paperwork then?”

“Well, almost.”

Every eye in the room turns to Holden’s grinning, smug face, including his manager, who looks like he wants to put duct tape over his mouth.

Holden shrugs again, reaching up to push his fingers through his tussled blonde hair.

“I mean, I’ve known Denver my whole life, sir,” he says, addressing my dad. “And I’m sure Houston is a great little town and all, but I just,” he looks down and kicks at the hardwood floor with his boot-heel in this absurd “aww shucks” way that probably gets me more annoyed than it should. “I just don’t think I can make a move like this until I see what there is to do to kick back and relax in a flashy place like this.”

My men around the room chuckle. I just roll my eyes.

The man is looking at an absurdly lucrative contract considering his recent record and conduct. And he’s worried about our
nightlife?

My dad shakes his head, still laughing as he steps up to Holden and claps him on the shoulder.

“Fair enough, son! Fair enough!” He glances around the room.

“So! Who’s takin’ our boy here out on the town?”

I’m not at all surprised by the hand that shoots up first.

Tom, of course. Tom’s one of the younger guys on the board – a smarmy business school, holier-than-thou asshole who’s tried to convince me to come out on a date with him on more than one occasion.