Touchdown (10 page)

He had expected it would be an ordinary, if not boring, dinner, but when she started talking about some strange wedding practices, the conversation became interesting. So she’s got a sense of humor after all, and she knew a lot of stuff which surprisingly kept him entertained.

It was nine in the evening when he had decided to take her back to her apartment. If Logan did not call him to ask where he was, he couldn’t have noticed the passage of time.

“You want to come in?” she asked as they both stood in front of her door.

He shouldn’t. He had to drive back home right now so he could rest for tomorrow’s game—a game that his team must win at all cost or it would be game over for the Patriots.

“Sure,” he replied, to his utter surprise. It seemed his mouth had spoken on its own without his awareness.

A young woman, who was sitting on the couch and watching TV, quickly stood up when they entered the living room.

“Hi, Linda. Is she sleeping?” Zoey asked.

“Yes,” Linda replied and turned to look at him. She smiled, and he smiled back.

“Here.” Zoey handed Linda a few ten dollar bills. “Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome,” Linda replied.

Troy noticed Linda kept glancing at him. Obviously, she wanted to tell him something, but she was too shy to say a word to him.

“You want to tell me something?” He took the initiative to ask.

Linda’s face flushed. She nodded and picked up a piece of paper and a pen on the table. “Mind I get your autograph?”

“Sure,” he said and took the paper and pen from her. “Your name’s Linda, right?”

“Belinda.”

“Okay.” He signed the paper, and then he handed it back to her.

Linda’s smile was wide, but still shy. “Thank you, Sir.”

After the young woman left, Zoey went to the kitchen to get him a cup of coffee. He looked around her apartment.

Her living room seemed too small. Maybe because he’d been used to big houses ever since he was young. His parents weren’t millionaires, but they both came from wealthy families. The house where he grew up in, and where his parents still lived, was a gift from his paternal grandfather. All of that had changed though when his brother died. His parents just stopped living. They wasted every dime they inherited and saved their lifetime. He was then forced to step up as the sole provider for his family.

Speaking of family, he could not see a single photo of Zoey’s family. Her walls were bare, save from an old poster of the New York Jets team tacked at the center.

The background investigation ordered by Jeremy did not come up with anything about her family, as well. He only saw records of her academic background, which showed she had an above average intelligence.

He wasn’t surprised. The way she spoke, although seasoned with vulgarity from time to time, was enough proof of her intelligence.

“That’s five years ago,” she said when she stepped out of the kitchen and saw him staring at the poster. “Wayne was still a rookie.”

He nodded. “He was already a very promising player then.”

“Yes.” She placed the cup of coffee on the center table and sat on the couch. “I used to have this huge crush on him.”

“Used, huh?” He smirked. “Obviously, you still do. You’re crazy about him.”

She laughed. “Well, who wouldn’t be?”

With a raised eyebrow, he sat on the couch adjacent hers. Did she not realize she was about to be his wife? And she’d say she’s crazy about another man?

He didn’t bother to comment on it though. He reached for the cup of coffee and took a sip.

“Honestly, I never really liked you as a player,” she confessed. “I always swear at you everytime I see you on TV.”

He chuckled. “Every New Yorker does.”

“It doesn’t matter to you?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Why didn’t you join the Jets when you were offered the opportunity?”

He sighed and shook his head. “It’s not as easy as it seems. I cannot simply leave behind a team that I have bonded with for three years. We’re a family, and we all share the same dream. Most of all, my head coach is my uncle. He left his old team to coach the Patriots when I was draft picked.”

She nodded and had nothing more to say.

“Where is your family?” he asked. He couldn’t help his curiosity.

She shrugged. “I never knew them.”

He squinted. “What do you mean?”

“I was raised in an orphanage. The social workers said an old man, who found me at the theme park, brought me in.”

He couldn’t say a word. He felt sorry for her. It must have been too difficult to deal with that, but this woman had no trouble speaking about it. She was just too amazing. All those things she could have been through had molded her into the strong woman she had become.

“You didn’t try searching?”

“Where do I search?”

He had no answer. He had no idea either.

“It’s alright,” she said, as if she saw the sympathy in his eyes. “I’ve made it through. People are usually on their own at my age, so I just imagine I’ve moved out of my parents’ house and never bothered to visit them.”

He forced out a smile. “Good idea.”

“So what do you think? Is handling your parents easier than having no parents at all?”

Her question briefly froze him. Of course she knew about his parents. If she didn’t read it in the tabloids, she could have seen it herself when she went to get Bessie from his mother.

He nodded. He did not like discussing about that subject. “Of course,” he replied positively. “It’s better than having no parents at all.”

“You think I’m pathetic, huh?”

“No. You’re amazing. If I were you, I wouldn’t have made it through that.”

She smiled. Something in her eyes had changed that moment. They softened. The cold, hard ice that used to shield them had suddenly melted away. Her vulnerability had just been exposed. He suspected that it could have been the first time someone ever said those words to her.

He glanced at his wristwatch. It was getting late. “I have to go.” He rose to his feet. “I have to wake up early tomorrow to warm up for the game. Could you walk me to the door without your crutch?”

“Sure.” She stood up, unsupported. Limping, she led the way to the door.

He was happy to see her improvement. Seeing her walk again seemed to lighten the guilt inside him.

“Take care,” she said and opened the door for him.

He was about to step out when he suddenly remembered something. “By the way, my mother is volunteering to temporarily take custody of Bessie while you’re busy with the wedding preparation.”

“I’m not busy at all. I don’t have a job, remember?”

“Yes, but… you don’t intend to stay here after we’re married, do you?”

Her lips parted. He knew she understood what he meant.

“I need you to start moving your things to my house in Springfield.”

“But that’s too far away. I can’t take Bessie to another state without the social service’s permission.”

“That’s why my mother will take care of her while you get their permission.”

She sighed and did not say anything. She might be hesitant at this moment, but he knew she wouldn’t have a choice anyway. She had already agreed to go through with the wedding. It didn’t seem like she had any plan of backing out.

“So?” he asked, just to make things clear.

She nodded. “Alright.”

He smiled and bent down to press a kiss on her lips. Again, she froze and stared at him with her big, brown eyes, captivating him. Instead of moving away, he met her gaze.

It felt like it was the first time he looked into her eyes. They weren’t exactly boring like he used to see it. They were so beautiful. They glowed like the moon. They were pulling him closer, sucking him deeper into their depths.

He kissed her again. His eyes shut closed. His arms went around her, pulling her closer against his body.

She felt soft, so delicate. The floral scent of her perfume intoxicated him.

Her mouth opened under his, inviting him deeper.

Both of them moaned as he accepted her invitation. His arms tightened around her. His hand moved lower to her body, tracing the curve of her hips to her bottom.

So sweet. Her lips tasted more exquisite than the finest wine the world had ever produced.

But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He just had to have more.

He stuck his tongue out, tracing the tip of her teeth before pushing it deep in her mouth.

He felt her hand on his chest. Was she going to push him away? And deprive him of this kiss that had ignited a fire all over him?

To his relief, she didn’t. Why would she? No woman had ever said no to his advances.

She stroked his body, touching him for the first time, tracing his solid muscles from his chest to his abs.

He shivered. His body burned. His dick swelled.

Not enough. He needed to feel her little hand on his bare skin.

He suddenly pulled away, leaving her dazed for a second. Quickly, he pushed the door closed, and then he grabbed her back to him, pressing and molding her body against him.

As his mouth devoured her, he stroked her bottom, pressing her hips against his hard on. He wanted to let her know and feel how hard she had made him, and how much he ached for her.

She gasped against his mouth and stiffened, but she did not resist. After her brief surprise, she melted against him. Her legs relaxed and slightly parted.

Fuck, he was tempted to rip her clothes apart, stick his throbbing dick inside her and fuck her like crazy, but he wouldn’t scare her away now, not after he had gone through hell wooing her.

He pushed her against the door and lifted her legs up, wrapping them around his waist. He pressed his hard on against her, rubbing it up and down between her legs until she moaned and held on to his shoulders.

His whole body was on fire. She yielded to his every demand. She kissed him back with the same fervor, their tongues in an endless, wild sparring session. She was his to take now. He could do anything he wanted with her right now.

Confident that she would no longer resist, he cupped her breast with his hand. Huge, soft, smooth, and… Fuck! He wanted to squeeze this delectable variant of football. He wanted to taste it, lick it, bite it.

Unable to resist any longer, he tugged on the bodice of her dress, baring her right breast. Quickly, he pressed his palm over it.

“Troy,” she mewed and yielded her body closer to his, demanding for more.

“Touch me,” he murmured against her mouth as he flicked her nipple and rolled them between his two fingers. “Take my shirt off.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. Her hand settled on his chest and did as he asked—unbutton his shirt.

“Zoey?”

His eyes flung open at the sound of a voice which definitely did not belong to Zoey. A child’s voice. He met Zoey’s wide-opened eyes. She was as stunned as he was.

“Zoey, where are you?” Bessie asked from the living room.

She was the first one to recover. She quickly pushed him away and dropped her legs down the floor.

“Ouch!” She cried in pain, as the impact probably triggered her injury.

He caught sight of her naked breast, topped with the reddest nipple he had ever seen, like cherry on a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Fuck, he wanted to devour them right away.

“Troy?”

He quickly turned around, shielding Zoey to buy her time to fix her dress. Bessie was already in the foyer, staring at him. He hoped she had not seen Zoey hiding behind him.

“Hi Bessie,” he greeted, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“Where’s Zoey?”

“Here, sweetie.” Zoey, now with her dress back in place, stepped out from behind him and approached her ward. “Why did you get up of bed?”

“I thought I was alone.”

“Why would you think that? Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”

He watched as the two left. He took a deep breath and wondered what the hell he was still doing there. He should leave. He had a game the next day. It wouldn’t be a good idea to waste his precious energy fucking a woman while his team was about to take on a tough opponent the next day.

He did not wait for Zoey to come back anymore. The temptation was strong. It was best he’d get out of there while he still could.

He turned around, opened the door and rushed down the stairs.

“Troy?”

He suddenly stopped and turned his head back. He saw her standing by the door, staring at him with that puzzled look on her face. Did she want him back? To continue what they had started?

He could see she did, but this time, he had to resist.

He waved at her and turned away. She did not call him again.

His heart was beating wildly. He could feel it knocking on the walls of his chest.

What is this? Why is he feeling this?

He clenched his knuckles and walked all the way to his car. He never looked back again.