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STACEYLYNN

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ChapterONE

SHANNON

Islidmyfingersthroughmyhair,smoothingbackthewavytendrilsthathadescapedmyponytail.

Thesunbeatdownonme,theglaresobrightthroughmysunglassesIhadtosquinttoseehim.

Hestoodatthefenceandsignedautographafterautograph.Fatherswiththeirsonsanddaughters

boostedontotheirshoulders.Womeninshirtstwistedupandtiedbetweentheirbreasts,baringalmost
everyassettheyhad—andnotbecauseofthelatesummerheat.

Icouldn’twipethesmileoffmyface.
Mybrother.He’ddoneit.Draftedrightaftercollege,he’dspentthelastthreeyearsplayingbackup

quarterback,butlastyear,astheVikingsplayedthefinalfewgamesoftheseasonandtheirstartergot
hurt,Beauxhadbeenputintothegame.

Hehadn’tjustdeliveredwhentheteamneededhimto—he’dkickedass.
Ihadshoutedsoloudmyvoicewashoarseforaweekafterward.
Aftertheseasonended,he’dbeentraded.
Now, he was the new starting quarterback for the Raleigh Rough Riders. The fans packing the

stadiumattheirlastdayofSummerTrainingCamphootedandholleredallafternooneverytimehe
made a great play. Beaux Hale was projected to be their savior, to pull the team that ranked in the
middleofthepackfortheNFLintothetopteam.

I’d been hearing whispers of “Super Bowl-bound” all afternoon while I sat in the stands, close

enoughtooverhearconversationsbutremovedenoughtonothavetotalktoanyone.Thetipsofmy
fingernailswerenowragged—notthatitwasuncommon.

Ihadspentyearsandhoursanduncountableminutesdragginghimtofootballpracticeswhileour

momworkedthreejobstoputfoodonthetablebeforeshebecametooilltowork.Ihadbeentheone
to drive him to practice and toss the ball around with him in our tiny backyard. I’d taken him
shopping for his shoes and helmets and pads at secondhand sporting goods stores. I’d taken on
summer jobs to pay his registration fees. Then I’d stayed home and gone to community college
beforecommutingthelasttwoyearstofinishmydegree,soIcouldstayhomeandtakecareofBeaux
andmymomwhenherillnesspreventedherfromworking.I’dforegonemostofmyteenageyears
andearlytwentiesinordertobethecaretakerformyfamily.Now,attwenty-eightyearsold,Iwas
finallyseeingmybrotheraccomplishthedreamhe’dhadhisentirelife.

Ididn’tregretasinglesecondofmysacrifice.
FootballhadbeeninBeaux’sbloodsincethemomenthecouldwalkattenmonths.Hepickedupa

football, toddled around our small living room, and never set it down. He kept it in his lap at
mealtimes and cradled in his arms at bedtime. At five, he’d declared he was going to be on TV
someday,playingasquarterback.Itwasallhe’dtalkedabout.Allhe’dcraved.

I’dcravedseeingsomeoneinmyfamilyfinallysucceedatsomethingforonce.Itmightaswell

havebeenBeaux.

Hewasthebestofus,anyway.Hewasdeterminedonthefield,fullofhardworkandfocus,but

abletoflipaswitchtoparty-masterandcarefreeintheblinkofaneye.I’dbejealousofhisabilityto
turnofftheresponsibilityhecarriedifIdidn’tlovethetwerpsodamnmuch.

MyfingerscurledaroundtheburningmetalrailingandIpulledthemback,blowingonthemto

dullthepainwhileIwalkeddownthestairs.

My cheeks hurt from the stretch of a smile that refused to dissipate as fan after fan thrust their

breastsandpensandpaperintoBeaux’shand.

OnlyIknewthathispink-tippedearsweren’tfromexcesssunbutfromembarrassment.Asmuch

ashelovedthegame,theattentionstillflusteredhim.

Hewantedtopassaballintooutstretched,waitinghands.Hewantedtobreakthroughthepocket

andrunforhisownfirstdown.Hewantedahandoffthatcausedthestadiumtoroarsoloudthefield
trembledbeneathhiscleats.Thefansandthenotorietywerethingsheclaimedhenevergotusedto.

“OhmyGod,”IdrawledasIwalkedclosertohim.Ipressedmyhandtomychestasifmyheart

wasflutteringatarunawayspeed.“BeauxHale…”

Myfakedrawl,oneI’dbeentryingtomasterforweekswhenIfinallyagreedtomovetobecloser

toBeaux,madehimcringe.

“It’sBeauxHale,”Irepeatedonaloudwhispertothewomaninfrontofme.Shewasaroundhis

age,andhopeflaredinhereyeslikedollarsigns.“Canyoubelieveit?He’ssodreamy.”

“He’sbeeninmydreamseverynight,”shereplied,givingmeacheekygrin.“NowifIcouldjust

makethatareality.”

Her gaze quickly scanned my body and her shiny red lips turned to a pout as she took in my

breasts,wellconcealedbehindathintanktop,andcut-offandfrayeddenimshortsthatshowedoffmy
shapelybacksideandtannedlegs.

IpressedmylipstogethertokeepfromlaughingthatshecouldpossiblythinkI’dbecompetition

forher.

Never once had Beaux fallen for a fan. He brushed off the attention like he brushed his hair—

cleanlyandwithpurpose.

“Goodluck,”Ireplied,rightasBeauxshotmeagrinbeforeturninghisattentiontowardher.
Asshegushedoverthesizeofhisbicepsandhisfifty-yardpass,myeyeswanderedtotherowof

playersonBeaux’ssideofthefence.

They were all grinning, their smiles so firmly affixed I doubted many fans noticed most of the

smileswerefake.Sweatdrippeddowntheirnecks,soakingintothepadstheystillworefromcamp.

Today was the last day. Preseason games started next Thursday. Just over one week until Beaux

madehisdebutasastartingquarterbackfortheNFL.

Thethrillofexcitementrolleddownmyspineuntilmylittlebrotherreachedoutandpulledmeto

him.

“Youfuckingmadeit,”hewhispered.Hislarge,meatyhandclaspedaroundmyneckandheldme

tohisshoulder.Attwenty-five,hewasthreeyearsyoungerthanme.Almostafoottalleratsix-five
andmorethanahundredextrapounds,hewasnolongermylittlebrother.

Hewasamonster.Andamachine.
AndIfreakingadoredhim.
“Idid.Sawyouplaytoday—youweregreat.”
“Myshortgamewasslowandfelttooforced.”Hefrownedwhenhepulledback.
OnlyIwouldcatchtheworryinhisdarkblueeyes.
“You’llwarmup,”Iassuredhim,grinning.“Thisisyouryear.”
Theworryevaporatedandsoftened.Hisfingersflexedonmyneck.Hesaidmorewithoutwords

than he ever could have with them, but he still tried. “I couldn’t have done any of this shit without
you.”

Hewouldhave.ThegamewassoingrainedintohisDNAfromthemomenthewasbornthathe

wouldhavefoundaway.

Ijusthelpedmakeiteasierforhim.
“YoupromisedifIcameouthereyouwouldn’tmakemecry.”
Ipushedathisshoulderonlytohavemyhandslideoffhimandbrushagainstanothermountainof

well-formed,toned,andtannedmuscleIknewwashiddenbeneathshoulderpads.

“Lookatyou,newbie.”
I looked toward the new, masculine voice. It was unavoidable. The voice instantly brought up

visionsofmorningsexandshowersex,publicsex,andsheet-clawing,multiple-orgasm,ecstatically
screamingsex.

OliverPowell.
MybreathhitchedasBeauxpulledmeclosertothefence.
Powellwasthebesttightendintheleagueforthelastsixyears.Fivepro-bowlgames.Ahandful

of MVPs. He had awards and decorations and trophies and recognition. He had a body that drove
womentodistraction.

Hehadavoicethatwouldmakeanundroptoherkneesandprayforforgivenessforhersinful

thoughts.

Abodythat’dbeenplasteredoneverymagazinecover,notalwaysclothed.
Fulllipsthatmadeyouwanttoleanintohimforataste.
“Look at you,” he drawled again, his hand coming down and clasping onto Beaux’s shoulder.

“Oneweekatcampandyou’vealreadyfoundsomepussy.”

…Andanattitudeofthebiggestassholearound.
Hewassurlyandcrass.He’dbeenfinedforrefusingtogiveinterviews,orwhenhedidgivethem,

hegaveone-wordanswers.Yeah,OliverPowellhadanassthatfithispositiononthefield,buthewas
acompleteprick.

IstiffenedandpulledbackfromBeaux.
Heonlyheldmetighter,glaringatPowell.“Knockitoff.”
“You move in between the sheets like you move on the field, and I bet this girl’s going to be

screamingyournamebeforeyoumakeittotheparkinglot.”

Beaux’sragestartedbubblingbeneaththesurface.Hewasyounger,butthatdidn’tmeanhewasn’t

protective.Hissizehadalwaysmadehimfeellikeheneededtobemybodyguard.

IfIdidn’twanttopukefromthevilenessofPowell’sthoughts,nottomentionhewastalkingabout

mybrother…Iwouldhavesaidsomething.

Beaux beat me to it. “Don’t be a fucking asshole right now, Powell. Save your shit talk for the

lockerroom.”

Oliverignoredthethreatandkepthiseyesfocusedonme,hisgazesweepingdownmybodyina

leering but appreciative graze. “Wanna share? Some of these women like it. You’ll see. Now that
you’reonthefieldandnotwarmingthebench,you’llsnapyourfingersandgetwhateveryouwant.”

Beauxleanedintohim,hishanddroppingfrommyneck.Hetwistedhisheadatthelastsecondand

whateverhewhisperedinPowell’searwasunheardandunseen.

As he spoke, Powell’s face went blank. When Beaux stepped back, fire shot from his dark blue

eyes.

Igrinnedandwavedmyfingers.

Itwasn’tuncommonforpeopletocommentaboutmybrotherandme.Withdifferentfathers,we

looked nothing alike. I got all my mom’s features—short and curvy and all dark, from my long,
chocolatebrownhairandbrowneyestomyoliveskin.Beauxwassomeperfectgeneticmutantwith
his height and build, and was the light to my dark. Shaggy blond hair he kept longer on top and
trimmedshortonthesides,fairskinthatburnedbeforeittanned.Foranyonewhodidn’tknowus,we
werenothingalike.

Wewerealsonotonlybestfriends,buttheonlyfamilywehad,andthatmadeusclose.Wetouched

alotandhugged,andthatwasoftenmisconstrued.

Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeIhadbeenmistakenforawomanwantinginhispants.
Itiltedmyheadtothesideanddugoutareceiptfrommypurse.
“CanIgetyourautograph?”IsmiledsweetlyatPowell.
Onesideofhislipstwistedup.
“Don’tfuckingthinkaboutit,”BeauxsaidtoOliverashereachedformypen,hisvoicestillthat

deepanduncommongrowl.“Walkawayandsaveyourshitandhazingformeforsomeothertime.”

Powellgrunted,staringatmypenandpaperbeforehiseyeszonedinmybreasts.
Hewasanasshole.
Hewasalsobeautiful.
The way he licked his lips while he stared at my body, his look said he totally knew what was

goingonbeneaththefabricofmythintank.

Mynipplespebbledandhardenedfromhisintensity,andwhenheswepthiseyesbacktomyface,

theheatinthemhadnothingtodowiththesunathisback.

“Seeyoulater,I’msure.”
BeauxshovedhisshoulderwhileIwatchedOliverPowellwalkaway.Theviewfromthebackwas

asgood,ifnotbetter,thanthefront.Iwasn’ttheonlywomanwatchinghim,either.Shoutsandcalls
echoedintheairaswomencriedforhimtocomebacktothefence,tosignmorebreastsandskin.
Buthesaunteredaway,nonchalantandunhurried,actinglikehehadn’tjustbrokenhiscontract.

Ifigured he madeenough millions thathe preferred to payhis fines versusdoing shit he didn’t

wanttodo.What’saten-thousand-dollarfineforrefusingtosignattrainingcamponfanappreciation
daywhenyoumakefifteenmilliondollarsayear,plusendorsements?

“Ah, fuck,” Beaux moaned, pulling my attention back to him. “Don’t fall for him. And please

don’tfuckhim.”

I snorted, unable to help myself. Being recently fucked over by a fiancé didn’t exactly have me

wantingtojumpinthesackwithanyone.

“What’dyousaytohim?”
Beaux’seyesgleamedwithmischief.“Enoughthathe’llleaveyoualone.”
“Didyoutellhim?”
“Fuck,no.Ifheknowsyou’remysisterhewon’tleaveyoualone.Isawthewayhelookedatyou.”
“Really?”Icouldn’thelptheappreciativetinglethatfloodedmyveins.ThiswasOliverPowell.I

mean,yeah,hewasadick…butIalsobethehadagreatone.Hehadnewwomenaroundhimallthe
time.Beautifulwomen.Womenwayoutofmyleague.

Beaux groaned again and pushed me down the line. “Wait for me in the lot after I’m done here.

Got something I want to show you. And stay the hell away from Powell. He’s everything we knew
he’dbelike,butworse.”

Myfacescrunchedup.Notfromthedismissal,butfromthewarning.Theawareness.
Beaux had basically just told me that Powell was being a gigantic asshole to my baby brother. I

shouldhavebeenincensedonhisbehalf.TheproblemwasIcouldn’terasethewayhishazeleyeshad
frozenonmyassets…andlingeredlongerthannecessary.

Butthatwastrouble,andmonthsagoI’dwalkedawayfromanotherkindoftrouble.
Thiswasmytime,myfreshstart,todowhateverIwantedandbewhoeverIwanted.
BeingPowell’sone-nightstandwasnevergoingtobeanyofthosethings.
EvenifIknewit’dbehighlyentertainingandmemorable.

***

“You…I…whatisthisplace?”
“Thisisyourstore.”
Ipeeledmyeyesofftheold,red-brickedbuildingthatsatintheartsdistrictindowntownRaleigh.

TurningtolookatBeaux,mymouthstillhangingopen,Icontinuedtogape.“What?”

Hespunaringofkeysaroundhisthumbbeforeflickingtheminmydirection.
Icaughtthemrightbeforetheyhitthepavement.WhenIlookedupagain,Iheldbacktheurgeto

throwthemathisface.

“Whydidyou—”
“Shut up. You’ve wanted this for years and never moved forward because you listened to that

assholesayyoucouldn’tdoit.Nowyouhaveit.Bethankful,Shan.”

Iscowledathim.Mylittle,dumbass,hugebrother.
“DoyourememberwhatBarclaysaidaboutrookies?Whatrookiesneedtoremember?”
“I’mnotafuckingrookie.”
Hewasn’t.Hehadthreeyears’experienceintheleague,butwiththiscontract,thesenewmillions

terrifiedthehelloutofme.

“You’re not supposed to take care of your family,” I said, reminding him what the retired NBA

playerhadsaidonthenewsonenight.Saidthateveryprofessionalplayerhadthedesiretosettheir
familiesupsotheycouldlivelargeonthemillionsthatnewproplayerssuddenlyacquired,anditwas
ahugemistake.

Acareercouldvanishwithonemisplacedhit.Millionscoulddisappearovernight.
IpulledmystunnedgazeoffBeauxandbacktothebuilding.Itreallywasbeautiful.Bigwithout

beingtoolarge.Wehadn’tsteppedinsideandIalreadylovedtheplace.

It’dbetheperfecthometotakeStamped,myonlinejewelrybusiness,tothenextlevel.
Plus,atwo-bedroomapartmentaboveit.
Allmine.
AndyetIhadn’tearnedapennyofit.
MystomachflippedandIshookmyhead,handingthekeysouttoBeaux.“Ican’tletyoudothis.”
He ignored the keys and slid his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. Jeans he’d had since

college,becausewhilehemademillionsandspentitextravagantlyonme,hebarelyusedanyofitfor
himself. Unless it was for the annual summer RV tour he took, partying it up with friends from all
overthecountry.

“It’salreadydone.Paperssigned.Iclosedlastweek.I’vealsogotyouaboothatthesummerarts

festivalinafewweeks,andI’veorderedyounewbusinesscardswithyournewaddress.”

Myjawhitthepavement.“What?”
I stared at my brother. This was too much. Too much money. Too much space. Too much

responsibility.TheonlygoodthingI’ddoneinmylifewasmakingsurehesucceeded.I’dessentially
failed at everything else. Barely passed college, had shitty taste in men—a recently learned
development—andcouldn’tholddownarealjobtosavemylife.

My jewelry business was a fantasy, a hobby, something I did to pass the time—and while it

brought in a decent amount of income and I’d dreamed of doing something bigger with it, I never
thoughtit’dbepossible.Ididn’thavetheconfidencethatIcouldpullitoff.

This…thisscaredtheshitoutofme.
“Ican’tdothis,”Iwhispered,myvoicethickwithemotion.
Beauxstaredatthebuilding.“WhenIwaseleven,youwalkedmetothemiddleschoolfieldsone

night,andwhenIaskedyouwhatweweredoingthereyousaid,‘Ihaveasurpriseforyou.’”

Myeyesbeganburningatthememory—hisfirstpractice.“Beaux—”
He didn’t look at me, but he did reach out and take my hand in his, squeezing the keys for the

buildinginfrontofusintomypalm.“Youdumpedaduffelbagontotheground,slappedthepadsand
ahelmetonme,andwatchedmepractice.YousattherefortwohoursdoingyourhomeworkwhileI
learnedplaysfortheveryfirsttime.Ifyouthinkforonedamnsecondyouhaven’tearnedallofthis
successandmoneyasmuchasme,you’reabiggeridiotthanIthought.”

“Mom—”
“Momwantedmetoplayfootball.Shetalkedaboutitallthetime.Butshewasalltalkandworking

for food and then unable to do anything, while you were the one who worked to make my dreams
cometrue,Shannon.Letmedothisforyou.Takethegift,dosomethingyoulovewithit,andfinally
getasliceofyourowndream.”

TruthfellfrommylipsbeforeIcouldstopit.“WhatifIfail?”
Heturnedtomethen,hislipstiltingupatonecornerofhismouth.Then,hethrewmywordsback

inmyface,thesamewordsI’dsaidtohimwhenhe’dlearnedhewasstartingquarterbackforhishigh
school football team as a sophomore. I’d graduated the year before and was attending community
collegetobeclosetohome.Withovereighthundredkidsineachgrade,andafootballteamwitha
huge history of winning State Championships, a sophomore starting for varsity had been
unprecedented.“ButShannon…whatifyoudon’t?”

“Ihateyou,”Iwhispered,sniffingoverthetearsburningmyeyes.
Myhandsqueezedaroundthekeysinmypalm,grippingthemtighter.
I’dgiveBeauxanything.I’ddoanythingforhim.
Ifthismadehimhappy,I’ddothisforhim,too.
“I know you hate me.” He tugged me forward, uncurling my fingers from the keys so he could

slidethemintohisownpalm.“Youjustlovememore.”

Iswipedmyfingersbeneathmyeyesandblewoutashakybreath.Thiswasit.
Myfuture.Mydream.
ComingtofruitionwhenIknewI’dneverhavethegutstotryitmyself.
“Iknow,”Imurmured.
Heslidthekeyintothelockandopenedthedoor.
“Ithinkyou’reprettyawesome.”
“You’renotsobadforabitchybigsister.Nowlet’sgoseeyournewplace.”

ChapterTWO

SHANNON

I wrapped the towel tighter around my body and stared at the mess I’d made in Beaux’s guest

room.

Itwasarecorddisasterinrecordtime,evenforme.Afterhe’dgivenmeatourofthebuildingand

theupstairsapartment,I’dfinallysubmittedtohisplan,hisidea…hisfaithinme.

Yet none of it was ready and I’d left almost everything I owned back in Des Moines—where

Patrickwasprobablycurrentlyfuckinghisco-workerallovermyfavoritecouchandthrowpillows.

“Ugh.”Igroanedanddraggedahandthroughmyhair.Thememoriesofhimcamehardandfast,

unbidden,anddifficulttoeraseoncetheywerethere.

Thelegswrappedaroundhiswaist.Theheelsdiggingintohisstill-clothedassashetookher—
“Shannon?” Beaux’s voice rang through the doorway as he opened the door. “You okay? I

knocked…shit!Coverup!”

HishandwenttohiseyesasIswirledaround,clingingtomytowel.
“Whatthehell?”
“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouweren’twearingclothes?”
Igapedathim,allsixfootfiveinchesclothedinjeansandaplainV-neckshirt,andlookeddown

atmytowel.Itcoveredeverything.

“Youshouldhaveknocked.”
“Idid.Youdidn’tanswer.”
“I’mcovered,youidiot.”
Hepeekedthroughhisfingersbeforecringing.“JustlikewhenIwasten.”
Idiot.Iwasthirteenandjustoutofashower.He’dgottenafullviewofmynakedpreteenbody.He

claimeditscarredhimforlife.

Laughing, I tightened the towel around my body and rolled my eyes. “You’re so stupid, Beaux.

Seriously.I’mmorecoverednowthanIwillbeinthedressIwasplanningonwearinglater.”

He’dtalkedmeintohangingoutwithhisteammates.Icouldn’tlieandsayIwasn’ttryingtoseek

attention.I’dhadenoughofbeingaloneinthelastfewweeks,crashingonmybestfriendMelissa’s
couchwhileIcatalogedeverysingleoneofPatrick’sfaultsIcouldrecall.

She’dbeenmybestfriendsincecollege,wherewe’dmetduringourIntroductiontoDesignclass.

She’dletmestayatherplaceafterIleftPatrickuntilIcouldfigureoutwhatelseIwantedtodo.I’d
beengonefromDesMoinesforbarelyoverafullday,andIalreadymissedherlikecrazy.

“You’rewearing…what?”
Ilaughedathisaghasttone.
“Justthis.”Iheldupaslinky,silver,sequinedmini-dresswithfringesatthebottomthatonlyhung

downmid-thigh.It’dbeenaHalloweencostume,notsomethingI’dweartoabar.Ihadnoideahowit
hadendedupinmysuitcase.

HiseyesbulgedlikeIknewtheywouldandamusclepoppedinhisneck.“You’renot.”

“Iam.”Iloosenedmytowelasmudge,tauntinghim.“Andifyoudon’tleavenow,youmightsee

morethanyoubargainedfor.”

He spun on his heels, the sound of the door slamming behind him barely drowning out my

laughter.

“Don’twearthefuckingdress!”
“Don’ttellmewhattodo!”Ishoutedback,laughingharder.
Mybrother.Theprotectorandathleticmutant.
TheNFLquarterbacksuperstar.
Themoron.
Whenweweretogether,westillactedliketeenagers.
Idroppedthetowelandreachedforasilkyblackdressinstead.Itdippeddownpastthecenterof

my cleavage. One thin strap provided support across the back and hit almost as low as the fringed
dress.

Itwassexyinthatsinful-wantingway.
Iwantedtheattention.Itdidn’tmatterifitwasforanight,afewhours,oradrinkandjustalook.
WalkinginonPatrickfuckinghisco-workeratapartythrownforusbyhisfirmhadshakenmy

foundation.Damagedmyego.

ButI’dpromisednotjustmyself,butalsoMelissa,thatI’dthrowmymiddlefingerintheairasI

leftDesMoinesanddowhateverIneededtodotoletgo.

Evenifitwasonlyafewhoursofpretending.
Fakeit‘tilyoumakeit,though,right?
ThatwasMelissa’sadvice.IwasgrabbingontoitwithbothhandsandholdingonastightlyasI

could.

Once I was dressed, my hair teased and held back from my face with a few sparkly pins, my

makeupheavyandsmoky-eyed,andmylipsadevil’sred,Islippedonheelsandheadeddownstairs,
shuttingmydooronthemessI’dleftintheroom.

I’d clean it and repack over the weekend. Beaux told me I could stay at his place as long as I

neededto,buttheapartmentcamepartlyfurnishedwithenoughtogetmestarted…alumpycouch,a
bed that needed to be tossed twenty years ago, and dining room table. But it didn’t matter. I was
twenty-eightyearsoldandfinallymovingintomyveryownplace,responsibleforthesuccessofa
businessI’dalwaysdreamedwouldbecomemorethanjustanonlinestore.

Now that I’d had time for the idea to sink in, my mind was filling with ideas on marketing and

jewelry designs, space planning and things I wanted to do to get my name out there—Arts Festival
included.

“You’retryingtokillme,aren’tyou?”BeauxaskedasIreachedthelivingroom.Hehadabeer

hanginglooselybetweenhisfingertipsandhedroppedittohissideasIenteredtheroom.

“Thisoldthing?”Ispuninacircleandlaughedwhenhecursed.
“Fuckingshit.Youare.You’regoingtokillme,probablytryingtogetmemurderedsoyoucan

cashinonmylifeinsurance.”

“You’reanass.”Iswattedhimwithmyhandbagandwenttothekitchen,helpingmyselftoabeer.

“Whendoweleave?”

“Inahurrytoseesomeone?”
TheimageofasweatyandsurlyOliverPowellflashedbehindthelidsofmyeyes.
“No.”
“Liar.”

Ishruggedandtookaswigofmydrink.Coolbeer.SomuchbetterthanthecrapPatrickinsistedI

drank—fromthechilledsparklingwinetofruitymixeddrinks.

God,whatapainintheproperasshewas.
Iblinked,vanishingthereminderfrommymind,andjumpedwhenBeauxwasdirectlyinfrontof

me.

“Youhearfromthatassholelately?”
“A few times,” I admitted. My ability to lie to anyone, but mostly Beaux, was nonexistent. “He’s

beenapologizing.”

WhichwaswhyIneededthisnewstart.IcouldbarelygoanywhereinDesMoineswithoutrunning

intomemoriesofPatrick,thewayhe’dworkedsohardtoseduceme,toclaimmeinthefirstplace.

We’dbeeneverywheretogether.Fivelongyearsflusheddownthetoilet.Andhehadapologized,

but it was always in the tone of voice. The one I was only beginning to understand. The one that
taunted and teased…whispered I wasn’t as good as him—that I’d never done anything good on my
own.

My shoulders slumped and Beaux growled—that sound he made when I knew he had his fists

clenchedandwantedtopummeltheguy.

“It’sfine,Beaux.”Iturnedfromhimsohecouldn’treadthetruthinmyeyes.Iwasn’tfine.The

breakupwasn’tfine. Nothingaboutmy humiliationandcanceled weddingplans—canceledfuture—
wasfine.

“Domeafavor?”heasked,andforamomentIwasgratefulhewasdroppingthesubject.
“What?Anything.”
“StayawayfromPowelltonight.”
Andthenhehadtoruinmyfun.
NotthatIhadplannedonit,notthatIcouldgethisattentionorkeepitformorethanafewhours.

Butwasn’tthatwhatIwaslookingfor?Oblivion?

Irolledmylipsandnodded.
Beauxreadmysilenceandthrewhisheadbackonasigh.“He’smyteammate,Shan.Andaprick.

I’mserious,thisguyisbadnews.”

“Iwon’tdoanythingyouwouldn’tdo.”Thatwasapromise.Fortunatelyforme,Beaux’slistof

wouldn’tdoswasprettyshort.

Hecaughtmymeaningandscowled.“Thatdoesn’thelp.”
Igrinned.“Ithelpsme.”Settingdownmydrink,Icurledmyfingersaroundhisforearm.“Come

on.TakemeoutandgetmedrunksoIcanforgetallaboutPatrick.”

“Withfuckingpleasure.”

***

WhilethemusicfromthemainfloorbeneaththeVIPareawasmuted,thelightsstillflickeredand

thevibrationsofthebasscouldstillbefeltatmyfeet.

Beingwithadozenormorefootballplayershaditsperks,definitely.
For the last hour, Beaux had taken me around to most of his teammates and some of their

girlfriends, introducing me. While I had three years’ experience meeting professional ball players,
and more years’ experience talking to ball players with egos bigger than brains and talent, it never
grewold.

IhadfalleninlovewithfootballrightalongwithBeaux—fromtheplaysandthestresstotheart

andfinesseofthegame.SomanyofthemenI’dmet,I’dwatchedontelevisionorcheeredforwhen
BeauxorIwereincollege.

Itneverbecamelessawe-inspiring.IwasneverlessenamoredshakinghandswithmenBeauxand

Ihadgrownupadmiringorworshipping.

The club we were in whispered of wealth, from the chandeliers to the sparkling crystal glasses.

PerhapsitwasjustthepretentiousnessoftheVIParea,secludedawaywithourownprivatebarand
bottle service, admittance only allowed with names on a list and a bouncer at the bottom of the
stairwaypreventingjustanyonefromsneakingin.

ItwastoosimilartowhatI’drecentlywalkedawayfromtoenjoyfully.Ihadtried,butafterthe

sweet,tarttasteofaRedBullandvodkaandthenthescowlfromthebarelydressedwaitresswhenI’d
orderedabeerfromthetap—anything,becauseIdidn’tcareaslongasitwascold—Igaveuponthe
ideaofgettingstupiddrunk.

AslightbuzzwasallIneededanyway,andafterawhile—themurmursofconversationgoingon

at the high-top table around me, Beaux lost in getting to know his new teammates—I caved to my
creativitythathadbegunitsseductivewhisper.

Ideaswereracingthroughmymind.Floorplans.Setuptables.Bracelets.Necklacesandcharms

withmatchingearrings.Stampedmetaldesignspaidprettywell,especiallydependingonthetypesof
metalIused.Ihadstartedincollege,makingafewpieceshereandthereformyselfandthenselling
them to girls in sororities. Everyone wanted something one of a kind—made for them and their
personalities.Whilethey’dbeenhavingtheirfun,partyingawaythebestfouryearsoftheirlives,I’d
still been running Beaux around to practices, helping him with his homework, and making sure he
madevarsity.Whenhegrewolderandcoulddrivehimself,Istillwentwithhimoncollegevisitsto
tourcampusesandtalktoscoutsandfootballcoaches—allwhiletryingtotakecareofourillmother.

When she passed away before she could see Beaux graduate college, the entire burden of the

house and the bills and life had fallen on my shoulders. What I wouldn’t have given during those
yearstobeoneofthosesororitygirlswithwalletsasdeepastheirdadswouldallowandnoworries
intheworldotherthanfindinganewfashionableaccessoryandbeingthefirsttoownit.

I had envied them. I wanted to live that life now, but responsible and cautious weren’t character

traitseasilyshaken.

Plus,Ihadn’thaddecentdesignideasinmonths,butthehistoricandruggedlookofthebuilding

Beauxhadrentedforme,leasefullypaidforayear,hadlitaspark.

OrperhapsthatwasthefreedomofknowingIcouldfinallydowhatI’dalwayswanted.
Perhaps Beaux was right. I’d earned every bit of his success right along with him. I didn’t

begrudgehimforit.Iwasproudofhim.Therewasalsosomethingtobesaidforhavingapieceof
lifethatwasallyours—althoughIfullyintendedtopayhimbackforeverycenthe’dalreadyspent.

AlargehandslammeddownoverthenapkinIwascurrentlydoodlingon.
“Youarenotspendingthenightwithapeninyourhandandyourfacetothetable.”
IshruggedoffBeaux’sscoldingtoneandscrunchedmyface.“Ifinallyhaveideas,though.”
I looked down at the designs he’d covered with his hand. Six interlocked bracelets, able to be

undone, put back together, worn in six different patterns. Complicated, but replicated with different
typesofmetals,orusingoneforthewholething,Icouldmakeeightdifferentdesignsandthey’dall
lookunique.

“Well,tellyourbraintoshutupforthenight.It’sonvacation.Youneedit.”
BeforeIcouldprotest,atrayofgolden-coloredshotswaspresentedandsetonthetable.Abowl

oflimesnext,andashakerofsalt.

IglaredatBeaux.“You’rekiddingme.”
Hethrewhisheadbackandlaughed.“They’renotallforyou.”
“Isshealwaysthisgreedy?”
Iturnedtowardthenewvoiceandgrinned.I’dbeenstandingnexttoKolbyJonesformostofthe

night.HeseemedmoreenamoredwiththecelebritiesinourmidstthanIwas.

But then again, he’d only had three months since the draft to get used to this new life. A wide

receiver drafted in the first round, seventh pick, he’d gone to Raleigh lower than originally
anticipated.Hisspeedandabilitytosnagtheballoutofanywhereintheairaslongasitwaswithin
fivefeetofhim,regardlessofhowmanydefendershehadonhim,hadhelpedleadAlabamatothree
nationalchampionshipsinarow.

Hewaswaytooyoungforme,buthislightmochaskinandbulgingmusclesandkindsmilemade

himeasyontheeyes.Hewasalsoasingledadtoathree-year-oldgirl,andmoredowntoearththan
anyoneI’devermet.

Ofcourse,therewasstilltimeforthattochange.
“I’mnotgreedy,”IrepliedwhileIsnaggedatequilashot.
“Don’tletherfoolyou,Kolby.She’saviper.”
Isnortedandlickedmywrist.“Right.I’maregularsiren.”
Beauxcaughtthedefeatedtoneinmyvoiceandkickedmeunderthetable.
“Yourproblem,”hesaid,reachingforhisownshotandslidingonetoKolby,“isthatyoutriedfor

yearstobegoodenoughforsomelimp-dickedprick,andneveroncerealizedthatyouweretoogood
forhimtobeginwith.”

“Ah,guytrouble.That’swhatthetequilaisfor.”
IshotaglancetowardKolbyandtappedmyglasstohis.“Thetequilaisforfun.”
Screwit.Ididn’tneedBeaux’sreminderorpeptalk.
Kolbysentmeasmirkandourglassesclinkedtogetherbeforeweshottheliquor.
The burn hit my tongue, my throat, clawing its way down to my stomach. I pressed my lips

togetherandtookthelimeBeauxoffered,thankfulforthesourtohelp.

Istillcouldn’tholdbackthefaceIpulledasItookonelastswallow.Nothingevaporatedituntil

Beauxhandedmeanothershot.

“Afterthreeitdoesn’thurtsomuch.”
“Fantastic.OnceIcan’tfeelanythingthenitwilltastegood.”
“Yup.”KolbyandBeauxslammedanothershotwithmebeforeKolbyslidhisglassesandlimes

intothecenterofthetable.

Itookmythirdwithouthesitating.“Where’syourdaughtertonight?”
Kolbytookasipofhiswaterglass.“Withmyma.They’reathome,unpacking.”
Heshookhishead,hiseyesfilledwiththatsameawedlookBeauxhadfortheentirefirstyearof

playingfortheVikings.The“howdidthisbecomemylife?”look.

I still saw it spark in Beaux from time to time, but a few years in, the wealth and shock was

diminishingandbeingreplacedwithanewnormal.

“Youmovedyourmomuphere,too?”
AmusclepoppedinhischeekandIsensedI’dtouchedatopichedidn’twanttodiscuss.“Ma’sthe

onlyoneItrusttowatchMya.”

I didn’t understand the love a parent had for their child—not personally—but I’d seen my mom

sacrificeinordertotrytogiveuseverything.Itwasthatmemory,ofmymomcominghomefrom

workonlytohavetimetoshowerandgotoanotherjob,thatmademeslidemyhandaroundKolby’s
shoulderandsqueeze.“You’reagooddad,Kolby.”

“Let’shopeshethinksso.”
“Shewill.”
“Needmoreshots?”Beauxasked,hishandalreadyintheairandwavingdownthewaitress.
The burn of the liquor in my veins made my cheeks and chest warm. I was feeling relaxed and

tipsy.

Ishookmyhead.“No.OnemorebeerandIshouldbegood.”
Herolledhiseyesplayfully.“Somuchfordrunkandstupid.”
“Oh,there’sstillplentyoftimeforstupid.”
“Right,”Beauxteased.“Ofcourse.”
Itwasmyturntorollmyeyes.Webothknewme.Ihadneverbeenapartierandwiththedrinks

and the warmth and the dim lights, I already wanted to get to the apartment and start cleaning the
showerandfloorssoIcouldmovein.

Ihadtoomuchofmymominme,andnotenoughofBeaux.Iblamedthefactthatwehaddifferent

fathers.

Where he let everything roll off his back, never worrying and stressing, I had a hard time

relaxing,alwaysplanningandpreparing.Wecouldn’tbeanymoredifferent.

ConversationdriftedthentoBeauxandKolbygettingsettledinRaleigh,thethingsthey’dseenin

thelastfewmonthssincethey’dmovedouthere.Whattheywantedtodonext,theirthoughtsaboutthe
upcomingpreseasongame.

I wasn’t involved in most of the conversations, so my eyes drifted along with my thoughts.

Thoughtsofasurly,rudetightendwhohadyettoappear.Disappointmentuncurledinmeandmade
mefrown.

Ididn’twanttoseehim,yetIcouldn’tstopthinkingabouthimeither.Theinteractionearlierwas

more unpleasant than most I’d had in my life. Yet I couldn’t lie—along with probably millions of
other women in the country, I had pictured Oliver starring in my fantasies at some point since he
beganintheNFL.

Admittedly,assoonasBeauxwastraded,thoughtsofmeetingPowellwerefirstinmymind.
YetasmuchasIteasedmybrotheraboutmakingoutwithhisteammates,Iwouldn’tdothattohim.

Iwouldn’twanttobethecauseofpossibletensionforhiminthelockerroomoronthefield.When
hewasplaying,myjobwastosupporthim,notmakeitmoredifficult.

Withaheavysigh,Islidoutofthebooth.
Beaux’sgazecaughtmewithaquestioninglook.
“I’llberightback.Ijustneedsomeair.”
“Andthenadancewithme,”Kolbysaid,flashingmeawink.
Thekidwascute.Icouldadmitthat,too.Hewasalsoharmless.Safe.
“Youknow?Ithinkmyrestroomtripcanwait.Wantto?”
“Hell yeah. Sexy cougar woman in my arms? I’ll have to beat the men away from you.” He

frowned, a teasing glint in his eye as he wiggled his fingers. “On second thought, maybe we
shouldn’t.Can’tgetthesehandsbrokeninabarfight.”

Ipunchedhimintheshoulder.“Shutup.”IturnedtoBeaux.“Youmind?”
“Gokickback,Sis.You’veearnedit.”
I rolled to my toes and kissed his cheek while I waited for Kolby to slide out of the booth. He

grippedmyhandandledmedownthestairs,pullingmebehindhimsowewouldn’tgetseparatedin

thecrowdatthebottom.Halfwaydownthesecondflight,thehairsonthebackofmyneckstoodup.

I paused, tugging my hand out of Kolby’s, and looked around. Seeing nothing, I shook off the

strangesensationandhurriedtocatchuptomydancepartner.

Themusicwaslouderonthedancefloor,pulsingthroughmybodyandfillingmyveinswiththat

instantneedtomove.

Thesongwasfastandperfect,andasKolbyguidedustoanareaofthefloorbeneaththeVIParea

wherewe’dsat,hesethishandsonmywaist,pullingmetohimuntilmyhipswereagainsthis.

Wewouldhavehadtoshouttobeheard,soweweresilentwhilewemoved,ourbodiesconnected.

IthadbeensolongsinceI’dbeenout.MostdaysIfelttoooldforabarscene—notthatPatrickwould
haveevergoneanyway.AndifPatrickdidn’twanttogosomewhere,werarelydid.

Ilostmyselfinmythoughts,myregrets,andthefeelofwarmandstronghandsonmybodyas

sweatbegantobeadatmyneck.

The buzz of the alcohol beginning to dissipate as I lost myself in the music, it was just me and

Kolby while he spun me in circles and we goofed around. We made funny faces and moved our
bodiesintimetothemusic.

Westayedtherelongerthantheonesongwe’dagreedon,anditwasattheendofthefourthwhen

Ifinallyneededabreak.Mytoeshurtinmyheels,andthestrapoffabricacrossmybackclungtomy
skin.

“Ineedabreak!”Ishouted,leaningintoKolby’sarms.
Hewrappedthemaroundme.“Wonderingwhentheoldwomanwasgoingtostop.Lastedlonger

thanIthoughtyouwould.”

Ishovedhimplayfullyagainandturnedtowalkoffthedancefloor,butwhenIwenttotakemy

firststep,myfeetfrozeinplace.

Kolbybumpedintome,pushingmeforward,andbeforeIcouldstumble,Iwaspulledintoanother

setofstrongarms.

“Thenextone’smine.”

ChapterTHREE

SHANNON

Electricity zinged up my arms and down my spine, straight to my toes where they curled inside

myheels.

Powell was a force on the field. Running and catching, he could do it all with the grace of a

panther.Amazing,consideringhissix-fourframe.Helookedlikehe’dbelargeandbulky,awkward,
buthewasfast.Hewaspowerful.

With his body guiding me backward onto the dance floor I’d just tried to exit, he was also

undeniable.

Magnetic.
HeatswirledbetweenusasIflexedmyarmandtriedtopullawayfromhim.
Mymindscreamedtorun.
Mybodyscreamedloudertoresisttheurgetodoso.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
His sandy blond brows pulled together, sharpening into points. For a moment I thought he

couldn’thearme.

Then he leaned down, pulling me to him until my hand hit his chest. My fingers curled into his

muscledfirmnessoftheirownaccord.

“I’mthinkingsomeonelikeyoushouldhavearealman.Nottheboysyou’vebeenhangingwith

tonight.”

He’dseenme.He’dbeentheonewatchingme.IknewitwiththesamecertaintyIknewmypanties

werebecomingwetdespitehisabsurdassumption.

“Youdon’tknowme.Youknownothingaboutme.”
“Iknowwhatyouwant.”
Hedidn’tknowcrap.Anythinghecouldsayorassumewaswrong.
Ishouldhavepushedhimawayfromme.Ishouldhavefoundthewayherolledhishipsagainst

minerepulsive.

Instead,Ibecamemalleabletoeverymovehemade,mybodysuccumbingtohispresenceandthe

staticignitinginthebreathsofspacebetweenus.

His gaze dropped from my eyes to my breasts, his stare bold and unabashed before he looked

backatme.“Youwantwhattheyallwant.Thefame,themoney,therighttosayyou’vesuckedour
largecocks.”

Yes.Repulsive.Yetawaveofexcitementrolledthroughmybody,heatingitatthemerethoughtof

hiscock.

HecontinuedbeforeIgatheredmyscatteredthoughts.“Butwhatyoudon’tknowisthatmennew

intheleaguearestillboys,easilyledbysexypussywithtitsandassandlegsfordays,buttheydon’t
knowwhattodowithitoncetheyhaveit.”Hewastalkingaboutmybrother.Andmybrotherlooking
atmyassandtits.Ididn’twanttothrowuplikeInormallywould.

IwasstuckonthefactthathethoughtIwassexy.HowfuckedupwasI?
Notfuckedupenough,ordrunkenough,ordumbenoughtonotknowwherethiswasgoing.A

quickfuckagainstthewallinthehallwaywherehe’dturnmeawayfromhim,liftmyskirtandplunge
deepinsideme,allwithouthavingtokissortouchme.

I was lonely and still reeling from a failed engagement. I wanted a few hours of oblivion and

possiblyaone-nightstand,butIwasn’tapushoverandIwasn’tanidiot.Ideservedmorethanthesexy
lookhewasgivingmeoffered.

“Oliver?”Iasked,mytonebreathlessandrawfromthedancingandfromthewayhisfingertips

wererunningalongmyexposedskin.

“What,baby?”
I fought the cringe at the worthless endearment. My fingers slid from his chest to his shoulders

andIpulledmyselfcloser.

FlamesshotthroughmeasIbrushedagainstthesizablebulgeinhispants.“Youdon’tknowshit.

Andifyoudon’tgetyourhandsoffmethisveryfuckingsecond,mybrotherwillkickyourasson
andoffthefield.”

HedroppedhishandslikeI’dburnedhimandshotmeaquizzicallook.
Thatfurrowedbrowwasnolesssexy.
I grinned and forced myself to step back. The space was necessary. Without it I might have said

fuckmymoralsandjumpeduponhim,climbedhimlikeamonkeyinatreeandlethimgivemethe
rideIknewhe’dbesogoodat.

“Yourbrother?Who?”Ahandscrubbeddownhisface.
Ididn’ttakethetimetoexplain.Arushofbodiespressedagainstus,givingmemyopening.
Iturnedonmyheelsandtremblinglegsandgotthehelloffthefloor,backtotheVIPareaandinto

theladies’restroomwithoutlookingback.

Mybackhitthewallofthebathroomandmyhandswenttomyfacebeforethedoorclosedbehind

me.MyfingersstillshookfromadrenalineandlustanddesirewhenIpressedthemtomytemples.

Ineededtogetoutofthere.
Ineededtoleave.
How could I have ever been attracted to an asshole like Patrick, just in a prettier and sexier

package?

Allmenwerethesame.
They thought with their dicks and thought women should bend to their will just because they

flashedawadofcashandthepromiseofanorgasm.

Andfuckthat,myfingershadn’tletmedownyet.
“Getyourselftogether,”ImurmuredtomyselfbeforeIusedtherestroom.
WhenIwasdone,Isplashedcoolwateronmywristsandmythroat.Mybodywasstillheated.The

memoryofPowell’sbodyagainstmine.Theswayofhiships.Thesizeofhiserection.

“Shit.”
Squeezingmyeyesclosed,Itriedtovanquishthememoriesthatweresobrieftheyshouldhave

alreadydisappeared,buttheyhadn’t.Theywerethere,vividandclearasdayandequallypowerfulas
thevisionofPatrickpoundingintoawomaninabathroommuchliketheoneIwasinatthemoment.

Thememorywasabitterslaptotheface,betterthananysplashofcoldwateronmystill-flushed

skin.

Iwalkedintothehallwaywithmyheadheldhigh,myheelsstable,andmyresolvestrengthened.

NeveragainwouldIletamanusemeandtossmetothesidelikePatrickhad.

I would move on from him, but it would be with a man who knew how to treat a woman with

respect,andhadtheabilitytocherishthem.

“Beaux’syourbrother.”
Thestrainedvoicestoppedmeinmytracks.Ididn’tturntohim.
“Yes.”
IwaitedforanapologyIassumedwouldnevercome,andwassurprisedwhenitdid.
“I’msorry.Imighthavefuckedthatupdownthere.”
Might have? He’d essentially called me a whore. I spun on my heels until I faced him directly.

WithOliverseveralfeetaway,hisbackbracedtothewall,hishandsonhiships,Ibarelyhadtotiltmy
headuptoseehimclearly.

“Hewasrightaboutyou,though.You’reaprick.”
Alipcurledinresponse.“IsaidIwassorry.”
“Forgiven.” I turned around and walked back to Beaux. He had three teammates around him,

womendrapedontheirlaps,butnoneonhis.

Hiseyeswereonme,hisfaceholdingthatlookofconcernIwasgettingso,sotiredofseeingon

him.

“Youokay?”
“Good.Readytoheadhome,though.”
He shot a look behind my shoulder and stood immediately. “What’d he say to you? I saw him

followyoubacktothebathroom.”

“Nothing,Beaux.It’sfine,Iswear.”
Hisgazesearchedmeforhonesty.Iwaslying,andwebothknewit,butIstillreachedaroundhim

tothetableandpickedupmysmallclutch.

“Let’sjustgo.I’mwipedafterthetripouthere.”
Hewrappedhisarmovermyshouldersandpulledmetohim.
Asheturnedme,myheadtwistedandmygazelockedonPowell’s.Hewassittingatthebarnow,a

glassofhoney-coloredalcoholinhishand.HissternexpressionwasfirmlyinplaceandIturnedback
aroundwhileIstillcould.

Withtheheatinhisgaze,thelookofwantstillinhiseyes,andthefactthathe’dactuallynotonly

apologizedbutseemedgenuine,IhadnoideawhattodoaboutOliverPowell.

OnlythatitwasbestifIstayedfar,faraway.

***

Ituggedattheendofastrandofmyhairandclenchedthephonetighterinmyotherhand.
“Canyoupleaseletthisgo?”
Patrick’svoicewaslikenailsonachalkboard.“Please,Shan.I’msosorry.Imissyou.Iwantto

seeyoutotalkaboutus.Don’tthrowusawaylikethis.”

Sameoldlines.SamethingsI’dheardforthelastmonth.
Afterseeinghimintherestroom,fuckingPriscillaagainstthewall,Ihadtakenoff.Ihadn’tsaid

anything, just made some choked, animalistic noise, and run from the bathroom and restaurant like
hellwasnippingatmyheels.Iwasmostlikelyhalfwayhomebeforehe’drealizedthatIwastheone
who’dseenhim;methatI’dheardhimcallingher“baby.”

He’d caught up with me in our apartment as I was slashing my wedding dress with the sharpest

knifeIcouldfind.

Theapologieshadstartedimmediately.Theliesquicklyfollowed.Thatitwasjustthatonetime,

thathewasstressedandscaredaboutthewedding.Ihadstoodinourbedroomthatwe’dsharedfor
two years listening to his pleas and apologies for almost an hour, feeling nothing but soul-sucking
grief.

IwasonlynowjustbeginningtorealizethatthereasonI’dputoffourweddingforsolongwas

because somewhere, deep down inside me, while I liked the financial stability he provided, I didn’t
fully trust him to take care of me. For the last year, we’d argued about getting married before I’d
finallycavedandsetadate.He’dproposedafterwehadbeendatingfortwoyearsandIfinallyagreed
tomoveintogether.ThenIdraggedmyfeetingettingmarried,alwaysfindinganexcuseorreasonto
continueputtingitoff.Ishouldhaveknownbackthenthatourrelationshipwasn’tgoingtowork.It
didn’tmeanitdidn’tstillhurttoseehimcheatingonme.

Eachwordhespokeoverthephonewasapunchtomygut.Ididn’ttrustthatPatrickstillwanted

me.Hedidn’twanttolose.Hedidn’twanttolooklikeafool.Hewasn’ttheguywomenwalkedaway
from.

He was a McDonnelly. Ginger-haired and Irish to the deepest parts of his marrow, his family

ownedmorethanhalfofDesMoines.Theystillownedthousandsofacresoflandandbusinesses.No
onesaidnotothem.

Iwasstillfindingithardtodoso.
I sighed. “I’m scheduling a moving truck. I only want my stuff. Can you please let me know

when’sagoodtimeforthemtocomeandpickitup?”

“Come home and discuss this with me, Shannon. I want to see you. I want you to hear me out. I

swear to you, this will never happen again. Priscilla’s been moved to a different department, and I
don’tevenseeheranymore.Please.”

Hisvoicehadsoftened,gonegravellyanddetermined,coaxingmeagainstmyjudgmenttolisten,

togiveinlikeIalwaysdid.Hernameonhislipswasabucketofcoldwateronthetemptation.

Itappedapenciltopaperandgrittedmyteethtogether.“No.AndIdon’thavetimeforthis.Ihave

thingstodo,andifyouwon’tbecooperativeI’llfigureitoutonmyown.”

“Shannon—”
“Goodbye,Patrick.”
Ihungupthephoneatthesametimeagrowlsoundedfrombehindme.
IwasinwhatwouldsoonbemyofficeatStamped.I’dscrubbedtheplacefromtoptobottomover

thelastweek,includingthecuteandfull-of-characterupstairsapartment.Everydayitsettledinalittle
bitmorethatthisplacewasmine.

Allmine.
OnceIgotmystuff,anyway.Fortunately,I’dhadthesmartstobringallmyjewelry-makingtools

andequipmentwithme.

Everything was scattered about on two folding tables I’d picked up as soon as I’d cleaned the

downstairsoffice.

With the Arts Festival opening next week, I’d been desperate to start creating. I wanted the store

readytogobythen,buttherewereamillionthingsIstillhadlefttodoscribbledonarippedpieceof
notebookpaper…somewhereinmyoffice.

AmazinghowIcouldmakesuchahugemesswhenIhadsolittle.
“Whatdidtheloserwantnow?”
IturnedtoBeauxtoseehisarmsacrosshischest,shoulderleaningagainstthedoortomyoffice.

Hewasfreshlyshowered,tellingmehe’dcomestraightfromhislateworkout.

Igroanedandtossedthepentothetabletop.“Sameoldcrap.Apologies,refusingtoletmego.”
I hated that there was a small part of me that was glad. Because if he didn’t want to let me go,

maybeeverythingwe’dshared,everythingIthoughtI’doncelovedhadn’tbeenalie.

A month had given me a lot of perspective. Melissa and Beaux’s persistent cataloging his faults

andthethingsthey’dalwayshatedabouthimhadgivenmegreaterinsightsintothingsIhadn’tseen,
orhadrefusedtoadmitearlier.

I was angry and hurt, but beneath it there was still the love I’d thought I had for him for years,

simmering.Icouldn’tdigdeepenoughtoscrapeitout.

“Whenareyoumovingyourstuffouthere?”
“WheneverPatricktellsmewhenIcangetthemoversintotheapartment.Hewantstoseemefirst,

though.”

“Fuck that, Shannon. Melissa has a key. She can meet movers any time of the day. Stop fucking

bendingtohiswill.”

“I know.” I scrubbed my hands down my face and wrapped them around the back of my neck,

poppingmyknuckles.“Iknowthat.Iwashoping—”

“Youwerehopinghe’dbeadecenthumanbeingforonce.”
Ugh.Ihatedmybabybrother.Suchapainintheass.Hiswordswerestilltruthful.
“Yeah.”Abreathfellfrommypuffedoutcheeks.“IguessIwas.”Ispuninmychair,mydesign

tablesbetweenus.“Howwaspractice?Readyfortheupcominggame?”

He pushed off the doorway and walked to the tables, his fingers brushing against bracelets I’d

poundedandshapedearlier.

“Won’t play much the first couple games. Can’t have their new stars getting injured before the

seasonreallybegins.”

Heseemedtoavoidmeetingmygaze.Ididn’toftenseehimuncertainorworried,unlessitcame

tomeandmylife.Thiswasfootball.

Hisdream.Hisgoalsincehewasfive.
“Howwaspractice?”
“Powell’sstillbeinganasshole.Jesus,he’snotlettingmegetawaywithshit.Everyplayhe’son

myass,screaminginmyface.”

Thenamealonesentasparkofawarenesstoplacesitshouldn’thave—deepinmybelly,theapex

ofmythighs.

Iclearedmythroat.“Yeah?Isheright?”
Beauxhuffedandlookedataspotonthefarwall.“I’mgood.Iknowthat.I’mgoodenoughtobea

starter, but every damn time I make a mistake—or when I don’t, for that matter—he’s right there,
telling me what to do different. I’m not Mason, and I don’t want to be. They got rid of him for a
reason,butheandPowellwerefriends.Idon’tknowifit’ssomethinghehasagainstme,againstmy
playing,orbecauseItookhisfriend’sspot.”Helookedatmethen,agleaminhiseye.“Orifhejust
reallywantstofuckmysisterandispissedI’vecock-blockedhim.”

Hechokedovertheword.Iwantedtolaughathisgrossed-outexpression,butIcouldn’t.Thatheat

inmybellyunfurledintosomethinglarger.

Iswallowedalumpinmythroat.“Really?”
Isqueezedmyeyesclosedimmediately.HowdesperatewouldIhavetobeforthattohappen?He

wasworsethanPatrick.Justasbigofaplayerbutdidn’tfeeltheneedtohideit.

“Whilethiswholediscussionismakingmewanttopukeupmyproteinshake—”

“That’sprobablyjusttheprotein.”Ipulledaface.Thosethingssmelledgrossandtastednastier.

Addthekale,chiaseeds,andspinachanditwasshitinacup.

“Shutup.”Hesmirkedandwentbacktolookingatmyjewelry.“Youknowhewasmarriedonce,

right?”

MyheadspunwhileItriedtofigureoutwhohemeantbeforehecontinuedspeaking.
“Highschoolsweetheart.Gossipinthelockerroomishelovedtheshitoutofher.Sheusedhim

asamealticketandoncehemadeitbig,shelefthimandtookoverhalfofeverythingheowned.”

“Whyareyoutellingmethis?”
“Notsure.”Heshruggedandpulledbackfromanecklacecharmbeforeslidinghishandintothe

pocketofhisjeans.“Beneathallthebullshit,alltheassholebehavior,andallthecrapthat’ssaidabout
himinthepapers,IguessIdon’tthinkhe’sthatbadofaguy.”

ItwasasclosetopermissionasIwasgoingtogetfromBeaux.Notthatitmeantanything.Iwasn’t

goingtobethenextwomanonOliver ’sarmonaphotospreadofNFLplayer ’swivesandgirlfriends
webpage,onlytobereplacedthefollowingweek.

“He’s been named captain of the team for a reason, you know. Is he right about you and your

playing?”

Foranathlete,Beauxwasprettyhumble.Morethanmost.Hewasusuallyprettyopentocriticism

and always took feedback, evaluated it to see if it was true. Hell, he scanned his Instagram feed,
readingcommentsfromguyswhocouldn’tpickadecentfantasyfootballteam,toseeiftheirMonday
quarterbackinghadmerit.

Thathe’dbesoangryaboutPowell’sinputtoldmeitwasn’tthecriticismgettingtohim.
“Yeah.”Helookedupatmeandgrinned.Itwaslopsidedandmadeadimplepopinhischeek.“He

mightbe.”

“Thenyouneedtoworkharder.”
“Andyouneedtogetoutofthisoffice.CometoKolby’shousewithmetonight.He’sthrowinga

poolparty.”

“Beaux—”
“Justasmallgathering.Nothingbig,Iswear—notwithourgameinacoupledays.”
MycheeksheatedasIasked,“WillOliverbethere?”
“Fuckinghell,”hemoanedanddraggedahandthroughhishair.“Probably.”
“Iprobablyshouldn’t.”
“You’reprobablyright.”
“I’mgoing.”
Hegrinned.“Ifiguredyouwould.”

ChapterFOUR

OLIVER

ThesmallcrowdgatheredonKolby’soutdoorpatiomademyskinitch.
Overadozenkidsjumpedandsplashedinthepool.LongStyrofoamnoodles,plasticwings,and

inflatablestossedallovertheplacemadethesimpleactofwalkingaminefield.

Iwastryingtorelax.Itwasn’teasy.Everyyear,themenonmyteambecameyoungerandfaster.

They were tougher. They fought harder, partied louder, threw away their millions as soon as it hit
theirpockets.

For some, it filled them with a greater drive to succeed, to be the next big name known and

shoutedinsmall-townbasementsandgaragesalloverthecountryforthreemonthsayear.Forothers,
itbecameonebigunendingparty…untilthepartycametoacrashinghalt.

Istillhadn’tfiguredoutournewquarterback.BeauxHalehadtalent.Thatcouldn’tbeargued.But

the man owned a fucking a RV that he drove around the country during the off season, partying
whereverheparkedit.Hewasdeterminedonthefield,afuckingclownoffit.Itwashardtotakehim
seriously,andashiscaptain,itwasfuckingwithourteamworkonthefield.

Ipushedhimhardbecausehisarrivalmeantwefinallyhadachanceatthefuckingcovetedring.

EightyearsintheleagueandI’dcomeclosetwiceduringmyfirsttwoyears.Forthelastsix,it’dbeen
acrapshoot.

RealisticallyIhadtwo,maybethreedecentyearsleftinme.Atthirty,Iwasbecominganoldman.

Thepaininmyknees,thehitstomyribs,thesoremuscles…allofittooklongertorecoverfrom.I
fuckingachedeverywherealreadyandtheseasonhadn’treallybegun.

IwantedtowalkawaywiththatdamngoldenringsobadlyIcouldtastethemetalinmymouth,

betweenmyteeth.

Itwasallsofuckingclosewiththeteamwehadthisyear.Halewasbeingtoutedastheguywho

couldtakeusthere.

IwasanassholebecauseIdoubtedhehaditinhim,butIhopedlikehellhedid.
Unfortunately,Ikeptthinkingaboutthewayhissister ’sasshadfeltinmyhandslastweekonthe

dancefloor.Thefactthatshe’ddousedmylustwithherthreatsandthenBeauxhadmadeitclearat
practicehe’dfollowthroughwiththemhadmademeabiggerassholethannormal.

Kolby,ontheotherhand,wasthefirstrookieI’devermetwhoseemedtohavehiseyesfocused

ontheonlytwothingsthatmattered:hisdaughterandhiscareer.Athisparty,hewasinthepoolwith
her,holdingontoherstomachwhilesheflappedandkicked,makingmoreofasplashthangetting
anywhere.

Buthewaspatient,focusedononlyherandtheotherlittlekidsaround.
It forced a weight to my chest. One I hated thinking about so much that I refused to do so—but

whenIsawmomentslikethat,Icouldn’thelpit.

I’dlosteveryfuckingthingIeverwantedanditwasallSerena’sfault.NotthatIgaveashitabout

themoneyIwasstillforcedtosendher.Spousalsupport,myass.She’dwalkedawaytwoyearsinto

ourmarriage,andsixyearslaterIwasstillpayingforhertogodowhateverthefuckshewanted.

Ourphonecallswereonceayear,hercallingme,melettingitgotovoicemail.Thetasteofregret

and disgust were heavy on my tongue every time I heard her voice wondering when her annual
paymentwasgoingtobedeposited.

Ifiguredthenextconversationwehadwouldgodrasticallydifferent.
Anelbowbumpedmineandacoldbeerwasplacedinmyhand.“Takethisanddrinkit.Youlook

likeyouwanttokillsomeone.”

IglancedatDannyRudolph.HewasonlyayearyoungerthanmeandhadbeentradedtoRaleigh

the same year I had been—the year after everything in my life went tits up. He hadn’t known me
before,whenIhadmyshittogether,buthe’dbeentheresincemydownfall.

“Idon’twanttokillanyone,”Isaidandrealizedwheremyglarehadbeen.
Onher.
Shannon Hale. She ignited something inside me that went beyond the thought of an hour or two

betweenthesheetsbeforeIkickedheroutofmybed,likeIdidwithmostwomensinceSerena.Ithad
beendifferentfromthemomentIsawShannon.

Somethingdarkandtwisted,somethingthattoldmeI’dbeabletodowhateverIwantedtoherand

she’donlyscreamformore.

ThinkingshewasdrapingherselfalloverHaletogetherhandintohisbackpockethadpissedme

offmorethanitshouldhave.

Thewayhergazehadgoneabithazywhenshe’dlookedatmethatfirsttimehadmademejealous

oftheyoungkid.

“Yougoafterherandyou’relookingfortrouble.WordisHale’sheronlyfamily.Youfuckwith

herandhe’sgoingtogoapeshitonyouroldass.”

Ihadheardthat.Theirmomdiedafewyearsago.Theycamefromnothing.WordwasShannon

was more of a mom to him than his own had ever been. Not to mention they had different fathers,
neitherofthemaround.Beauxdidn’tholdshitback.Hewasn’tashamedofwherehecamefrom.

Plus,Rudolphwasright.Guycouldprobablytakeme,too,unfortunately.Imighthavedoubtedhis

ability, but he still had an arm of steel, built for throwing. He could be the best in the league if he
didn’talwaysfuckinghesitatethathalf-secondinthepocket.

Itwasgoingtogethimsackedandconcussedbeforethethirdgame.
“Idon’twanther.”
ThewordstastedasnastyastheswigofbeerItooktowashawaythelie.
Iwantedher.I’dthoughtofathousandwaystoapologizetoherforbeingsuchanasshole.They

all involved her naked, her thick, dark hair spread all over my white sheets. Her jaw slack while I
pleasuredher,overandoveragain.

Icaughthergaze,thatsamehazy,wantinglookfromacrossthepoolwhereshestoodwithahalf-

dozenplayersandtheirwivesorgirlfriends.

BeingtheprickIwas,IdroppedmyhandtomycrotchandadjustedmyselfwhereshecouldseeI

wasalreadygrowinghard.

Thethoughtofher…themerefuckingsightofherdidthattome.
Ihadn’tbeenthishard,soconstantlyandsoeasily,sinceIwasfifteenandSerenaletmetouchher

titsforthefirsttime.

Nexttome,Rudolphlaughed.Itwasloudandgatheredtheattentionofmostofthepeoplenearby.I

glaredathim,butstillsensedShannon’sgazeatmyback.

Alittleprickleofinterest.

Ismirkedatmyfriend.“You’reanasshole,youknowthat?”
“Hellyeah,”hesaid,slappingmeontheshoulder.“Butthere’salotofthingsyouareandaliar

isn’toneofthem.Mightaswellgetitoutofyoursystem.LetBeauxbeattheshitoutofyouandthen
we can all move on. You keep looking at her like you want to fuck her naked in front of all these
peopleandrumorswillstart.”

Fuck.Hewasright.Afootballteamwasworsethanafrathousewhenitcametogossiprunning

rampant.

“I’llgetrightonthatthen,”Imuttered,settingmydrinkdown.Lastweekend’ssplurgeattheclub

whereI’dseenShannonhadbeenthelastrealalcoholI’dtouchuntilhopefullyFebruary—

AfteraSuperBowlwin.
“Can’tyoujustgofindanothereasylayandfuckheroutofyourmind?Pretendshe’ssomeone

else?Thishastroublewrittenalloverit.”

I’dtriedthat.SaturdayandWednesday.
Unfortunately I’d only pictured Shannon, and the women beneath me, their faces buried in my

pillows,hadn’thelped.

Iwantedtoseeherface—thosecoffee-coloredeyes,herpoutylipsparchedanddry.
“Ilikeyourfirstideabetter.”IslappedRudolphontheshoulder.“You’reright.Fuckher.Gether

outofmyhead.Moveontothenextone.”

“Thisisgoingtogosouthrealquick.”
Ididn’trespond.Iwasalreadywalkingaway.TowardthewomanIcouldn’tstopthinkingabout.

Thewomanwhowasbarelycoveredinaswimsuitcover—itwasstrapless,hittingjustbelowherass.
Abrightpeachcolorthatshowedoffhertan,andfuck…thoselegs.

Tonedandlong.PaintedtoenailstomatchthelightbluesuitI’dseenherinearlierwhenI’dfirst

arrivedandshewaslyingoutonaloungechair.

With every step bringing me closer to her, her grip tightened on her water bottle. She moved

slowlyawayfromthegroupofmenshe’dbeentalkingto.Beauxglancedatme,buthewasmissing
thescowlIhadbecomefamiliarwiththisweek.

Thepinkcolorblossomingonhercheeksheldmyattention.Theslightquirktohermouth.Lips

thattiltedupatonecorner,practicallydaringmetodoallthefilthythingsIwantedto.

I’dtakeheruponit,assoonassheletme.It’dbeenawhilesinceI’dhadtopersuadeawomanto

letmedowhatIwanted,butIhadafeelingshe’dmakeitworththeeffort.

“Cometalktome,”Isaid,slidingrightupnexttoherandnotgivingheranydoubtwhatIreally

wanted.

Hereyesflared—hesitantandsurprisedatmyboldness.“Wearetalking.”
“Privately.”
Iheldoutmyhand,wantingmorethananythingtowrapitaroundherelbowandpullhertoward

me, pull her into a dark corner where I could slide her knee to my hip and sink into her. She was
short,andinsandals.I’dfindawaytomakeitwork.

ButIdidn’t.Ikeptmyhandstill,palmoutstretched.
Thefirstmovehadtobehers.I’dtakecareoftherest.
Slowly,shenodded.Herwhispered“Okay”wassoquietIbarelyheardherovertheclamoringof

thekidsinthebackground.

Sheslidherhandintomineandthatsameshockofelectricenergyswamandslitheredupmyarm

tomychest.

Itwasunnatural.Scaredthehelloutofme.

Igrippedhertighterandpulledhertome.Myhandwenttoherhair,pushingitbacksoIcould

leandowntowhisperinherear.

“Youknoweveryone’swatchingthisrightnow?”
Shenoddedonce.
“Youknowwhat’sgoingtohappenwhenIgetyoualone?”
Sheclearedherthroat.Hernerveswereevidentintherapidblinkofhereyes.“Talking.”
Idrewclosertohersomylipsbrushedoverherearlobe.“We’lltalk.Andthenyou’llscream.”
Shedidn’tpullaway.Iwasstillbeinganass.
IexpectedapunchtomybackfromBeauxatanymoment.
Butnoneofitcame.Insteadofpullingawaylikesheshouldhave,herchestpressedtomine.
“Thenlet’sgotalk.”

ChapterFIVE

SHANNON

AlmosteverywomanatthepartystaredasOliverledmethroughthesmallcrowdofplayersand

their wives and girlfriends. They glanced at us once, quickly looked away, only to surreptitiously
slidetheirgazesbacktousaswepassedthem.

I swallowed hard in an effort to push down the apprehension and focused on the tingling in my

stomach, the way my heart jumped and pulse pounded as he guided me inside the house. His
confidence and the way he seemed to not care about what anyone thought of him—along with the
sexualmagnetismbetweenus—floodedmyveinsinpreparationforwhatwouldhappennext.

Whathewantedwasobvious.Thedesireandneedwrittenalloverhisfacefromthemomentwe

madecontactwasclear.

Thatlook,alongwithBeaux’spermissiontodowhateverIwantedearlier,mademewanttotoss

mymoralstothegroundandstompalloverthem.

I’dneverhadthefreedomotherkidshad.
Now,IwasfreetodowhateverIwanted.LivehowIchosewithouttheriskofscrewingthingsup

foranyone.

First,itwasBeaux.IfIwastoohungover,toocaughtupinthearmsofastranger,Icouldmiss

getting him where he needed to be. I could miss a game or a practice or a meeting with a college
recruiter.Icouldmissgivingourmomhermedswhensheneededthem,orrunninghertodoctor ’s
appointments.

My entire life had been spent taking care of my family, and then later, making certain I wasn’t

screwingupanythingforPatrickorhisfamily.

I was so, so tired of the responsibility bearing down on my shoulders, I could break at any

moment.

Sowhynotthrowitallawayforaquickieinastranger ’shousewithasexymanwhoseconfident

andwarmtouchheldthepromiseofpleasureandwildabandon?

Oliver led me through an enormous house with more floors and windows and doors than they

soldinmosthomeimprovementstoresuntilwereachedaroomattheendofahallonthetopfloor.

Ilookedateverythingfromtheincrediblyfancydecortothewindowsthatoverlookedthepool

outside, to the overly dramatic chandeliers and woodwork so expensive and well-oiled it gleamed
whenthesunhitit.

“Kolby’shouseisamansion,”Imurmured.
BeauxandOlivercouldprobablyaffordsomethinglikethis.Oliverprobablylivedinsomething

like this. With years in the league and millions to his name, he probably had houses and condos in
fabulousvacationspotsandprivateplanestotakehimwhereverhewantedtogoonwhateverrandom
whimhehad.Hehadtotravelallthetime,wheneverhecould,tobeseeninsomanydifferentplaces
withsomanydifferentwomen.

“He needs a home, not a crash pad like so many of the other players,” Oliver said, not looking

aroundorsweptupinanythingexcepthisintendedpurposewithme.

IswallowedatthethoughtbeforeIrealizedwhathesaid.
“Andyourhouse?Isitahomeoracrashpad?”
Amusclejumpedinhischeekwhenhefinallypushedopenadoorandtuggedmethrough.Itwasa

bathroom,notabedroom,andmyresolvetolivefreeshookbeneathmyfeet.

Hecouldn’tgivemethecourtesyofabed?
MywantsandmyneedsconflictedwithmypastandmychoicesandthewayI’dalwaysbeen.
Iwasajumbledmess.
He pulled me flush against him like he’d done on the dance floor a week ago, surrounding me

everywhere.

HewasonlywearingathinT-shirt,ahintofchesthairpeekingthroughthetopofhiscollar,and

brightredboardshorts.Leatherflip-flopsandalsadornedhisperfectfeetandI’dsmiledwhenIfirst
sawthem.Seeinghimcasualwasanillusion.

Ashe touched me,his hand brushingthrough my hair againand then trailingdown my arm, he

wasanythingbutcasual.

Determined.Intense.Focused.
Iblinkedandswalloweddownmynerves.
“I’vethoughtabouthavingyoubeneathmeforaweeknow.Thefirsttimethathappenswon’tbein

Kolby’shouseinastrangebedwhereI’llneverbeabletopictureyouthereagain.”

“Oh.”Thelumpinmythroatreturned.Itiltedmyheadbacktoseehimlookingdownatme.“You

wantedtotalk.”

“Iwasanassholebefore.”
“Ihaveafeelingyou’realwaysanasshole.”
Imighthavewantedhim,butapparentlyIhadn’tbecomeacompletedoormat.
My words made him laugh. It was beautiful—deep and husky and rolled over me like gentle

waves.

“Touché.I’musuallyanasshole,justmaybenotasobviousasIwastoyou.I’msorryformaking

judgmentsandtreatingyoulikethat.”

“Why?”
Hishandswerestillmovingonme.Thickandlargewithcallusesfromyearsofhardwork.Gentle

yetfirm—teasing.Hebrushedthepadsofhisfingersalongmyarmsandshoulderstomyupperback.
Hewaseverywhere,allovermyexposedskin,makingmeshiverandtremblebeneathhim.

“Womenaroundfootballplayerswantonething.”Hishipspressedagainstme,drawingmecloser.

Thatbulgeinhisshorts,theonehe’dletmeseehimadjustearlier,pressedagainstmystomach.God.
Hewaslarge.Hewastallandbigeverywhere,soitwasn’tasurprise.

Myneedgrew.
“Twothings,actually.It’seasytogivethemwhattheywant,knowingthey’lldisappearafterward.

WhenIsawyoutouchingBeaux,andthendancingwithKolby,Ididn’tlikeit.”

“That’sabsurd.”
“Iknow.Can’texplainit,don’treallywantto,butI’mthinkingthatweshouldgetthisattraction

betweenusoutoftheway.I’vegotaseasontofocuson—nothingelsecanhavemyattention.”

Hewasbeinghonest.
Ihadtogivehimthat.
“SoaquickieinthebathroomandthenI’mforgotten?”
“No.” The word was clipped, showing his tension and restraint. It made my blood begin to boil

beneathmyskin.“AfterItakeyouhere,I’lltakeyoutomyplacesoIcanliveoutthefantasiesI’ve
hadofyouforthelastweek.”

He’d thought of me. Fantasized about me. Somehow, that filled me with a power, a sense of

controlinthiscrazy,messed-upsituationthatIhadn’tyetknownIhad.

Theideadidn’tseemasscaryorasbadasitmighthavelastweek.Afterall,hehadaseasonto

focuson.Ihadanewjobtogetofftheground.

Neitherofushadthetime.
“Doesn’t seem fair,” I whispered, finally reaching out to touch him. I slid my fingers along the

veins popping on his forearm. “To only get the night for you to fulfill your fantasies of me. What
aboutmineofyou?”

“You’vethoughtaboutme?”Hislipstwitched…fromhumororvictoryIdidn’tknow.
Dishonestyhadnoplaceinmylife,andIresistedtheurgetohidebehindliesnow.“Foryears.”
Hishandswereonmycheeks,pullingmetohim.Ihadtorolltothetipsofmytoesforbalance.

“Tellme,”hewhispered,rightbeforehislipspressedagainstmine.“Tellmeallofthem.”

I couldn’t. He stole my breath and my sense of decency when his warm lips brushed mine and I

openedtohim.Histongueslidin,notseekingorgentle.IinhaledhisscentaswekissedandknewI’d
always remember the fresh spice of his cologne. He smelled like summer and excitement, and I
suspectedsomeofitwasjusthim.

Heplunderedme.Hesentmeoffbalancewithakissandhisfirmhandspressingbacktomyscalp.

Itpulledmyhair,makingitstingandmakingmetremblebeneathhim.

Themanwastallandstrong,abletobreakmewithabreath,atwistofhishands,andyetthebite

ofpainmademeleancloser,cravemore.

Hiskissunraveledmeasourtonguestwisted,takingandhuntingbutnotgiving,andIsuccumbed

tohistouch,tohisidea.

Tothethoughtofhim,foronenight,wherewecouldplayoutwhateverwewantedandwalkaway.
It wouldn’t be enough. I was smart enough already to know it based on the heat rolling off his

skin,thetightnessinhismusclesashedevouredme.

Iwasalsosmartenoughnottosayanythingashepulledaway,bothofusgaspingforbreathwhen

heharshlygrowled,“Turnaround.WhenImakeyoucome,Iwantyouwatching.”

I did exactly what he asked. I’d walked into this knowing what would happen. My body primed

beforeheevenheldouthishandonthepatio.

Itwistedtowardthebathroommirror,legsshaking,witsscatteredalloverthemarblefloor.
“Handsonthecounter.”
IdidwhatIwastold,unabletothink.IwaspulledtothelookinOliver ’seyes.Surlyexpression

stillinplacelikeI’dmadehimangry.Likethethoughtofwantingmepissedhimoff.

“Oliver,”Iwhispered.Hisgazeflickeredtomineinthemirror.Ilookedwild,reckless.
Heappearedfirmlyincontrol.
“Doit,”IdaredhimwhenIsawhishandsflexintofistsathissides.
Hereachedoutandpulleddownonmycover-up.Thecheap,tubetopcoverI’dboughtatTarget

justthedaybeforeflutteredtothegroundandIwasinfrontofhim,barelydressed.Straplessbathing
suit,twistedbetweenmybreasts,low-riderbottoms.Itwasn’tabraandunderwear.Itactuallycovered
morethanmyusualpanties.

Hisgazetraveleddownmybackandmybacksideandthenswitchedsohecouldlookatmeinthe

mirror.HestaredatmelikeIwasalreadynaked.HemademefeellikeIwasalreadynaked.

“Iwanttoseeyourbreasts.”Hesaiditmostlytohimself,butIstillnodded.Mysilentapproval.“I

wanttoseeeverything.”

“Okay.”
Hishandsslidupmyback,takingtheirtime,trailinglargecirclesovermyskin.Histhumbflicked

over the clasp at the back of my suit. My hips rocked forward in response and the surliness in his
expression faded to something else…something scarier. Something that looked like rapture mixed
withdesire.

Histhumbrestedonmystrapagain,tighteningattheclasp.Iinhaledasteadyingbreathwhilehe

deftlyworkedtoundoit.

“Tellme.Areyouwetformealready?Afterakissandsometouches?”
Pinkburnedmycheeksandchest.“Yes.”
Iwaspastthepointofbeingembarrassed,tooturnedon,tooneedytocare.
“When?”
“Whenwhat?”
Hefinishedworkingonmysuitandletitdroptothefloor.Istaredatmybreastsinthemirror,

knowingthatwaswherehewaslooking.

Hishandsslidfrommybacktothesides,fingertipsbrushingthesidesofmybreasts,andIgasped.
“Whendidyougetwet?”
He stepped closer to me, until I could feel him at my back. He was so tall. This position would

neverwork.Iopenedmymouthtoanswerwhenhishandcoveredmybreastandhebrushedtheside
ofhisthumbovermynipple.

Adeliciousscrape.Itsentfiretomysex.
“Whendidyougetwet?”heaskedagain,movingtomyotherbreast,myothernipple.“Tellme.I

wanttoknow.WhenIkissedyou?Before?”

“WhenIsawyoutalkingtoRudolph.”
HissmilelitupthesmallbathroomlikeI’dpleasedhim.
“Ididn’tevenhavetotouchyou?”
Itwasteasing,ahintofmaliciousness,likeheknewhoweasilyhecouldhavenotonlyme,butany

woman.

“Yes.”
“Good.”Hishipspressedagainstmeagainandhebenthisknees.
His cock nudged against my ass and my head fell forward, unable to bear the weight of the

sensation.

Shit.Hewashuge.Thick.Ilickedmylips.
“I’ve been hard since I saw you at training camp. A fucking week, Shannon, and I haven’t been

abletogetyououtofmyfuckinghead.”

“OhmyGod.”Histruthburnedmyskin,lavarollingdownmyspine.
Ineededthat.Thistrystinthebathroommeantnothing,notlongterm.Istillneededtoknowhe’d

thoughtofmemorethanjustwhenhe’dseenme.

“Oliver.”
“Youneedsomething?”Hishandranacrossmystomach,hisotherstillatmybreast,lazyflicks

overmyhardenednipple.“Needsomethingmorethanthis?”

In reality, I could have orgasmed from the breast play and his words alone. It didn’t take much.

Neverdid—atleast,notuntilthelastcoupleofyears.

Myhipsrockedforward,seekinghishandatthetopedgeofmyswimsuit.“Yes.”
“Myfingers?Doyouwanttheminsideyou?”

God,theassholewasgoingtomakemeworkforthis.Mylipcurledinfrustrationwhenhetrailed

alongtheedgeofmyswimsuit,teasingme.

Hiseyesgleamedwithsatisfaction.
“Makemecome,Oliver.”
“Myfingersormytongue.Yourchoice.”
OhGod.Justtheideaofhimdroppingtohiskneeseitherbehindmeorinfrontofmesentafull

bodyshiverrollingthroughme.

Hisfingersbrushedagainstmyswollenandhotcenterandhegroaned.“Fuckthis,”hemuttered

andyankeddownmybottoms.

“Iwantyoutoomuch.Sofuckinghotandwetforme,Icanfeelitthroughyoursuit.I’mgoingto

tortureandteasethehelloutofyoulater,though.”

Itwasawarning.
Itmademesmile.
Thesmileimmediatelyvanishedwhenhepressedhisfingersagainstmyclitandslidthemthrough

mywetness.

“Fuckingsoaked,”hegrowled,hiseyesonmineinthemirror.Isawhimwatchingmebeforemy

eyesdroppedtohishands.

Onegrippingmybreast,theotherfingeringme,slidingthroughmyflesh,teasingmyclitbefore

hepressedonefingerinsideme.

“OhGod,”Imoaned,mymouthgoingslack.“Sogood.More.”
“Sofuckinggreedy.”
Yes. It’d been months since I’d had sex with Patrick—a clue I should have recognized, since

previouslywe’dfrequentlyhadsex.

Ibrushedthethoughtoutofmymind.
“More,”Imewledagainandletoutasatisfiedsighwhenhepressedanotherfingerinsideofme.

Hishandatmybreastssqueezedtight,fingerandthumbplayingwithmynipple.

I rocked against him as he began fucking me, holding me in place with his touch on my breast.

Everymoveforwardrockedmeintohishand,histhumbbrushingmyclit.Everypullbackshotfire
frommynipple.

Hisfingersslidoutofme,causingmetocryout.Hedroppedhisshortsbeforesettlinghimself

againstme.

“Notfuckingyouhere,”hesaid,whenhesawmyeyesgowide.“ButfuckifIcan’twaittofeel

youagainstmyskin.”

I nodded once. I didn’t want to be fucked here. His fingers returned to my cunt, sliding and

pushing,andthenIwasoverwhelmedwithsensation.Hiscockslidingthroughmycrease,gathering
wetness,hisfingersrollingandpressing,hisfingerssqueezingmynipple.

Mywhimpersbecamemoans.Allofitwasoverwhelming.Hewaseverywhere,leaningoverme,

hischestbrushingagainstmyback,thepressofhishipsagainstmyasstellingmehewasjustasclose
asIwas.

“Oliver,”Igasped,mybodybeginningtoshake.
“Comeforme,Shannon.Andfuckinglookatme.”
My eyes flew to his in the mirror and then rolled back before I could focus on him, the gritted

wordshespoke,andtheharshlinesaroundhisjaw.

IshatteredwhenIsawhim—whenInoticedthepainitwastakinghimtostayincontrol.
Thewayhisbody,hismuscles,hisfingersandhands,andhisthickcockpressedagainstme.

Chantedpleasurefellfrommylipsasmyspasmsbeganrollingthroughme.Iquakedandshook

andfellapartbeforehishandleftmybreastandwenttohiscock.

I lost the ability to stay on my hands and dropped to my elbows so I could watch him, looking

overmyshoulder.

Hetuggedandpulledonhiserection,biggerandthickerthanIhadimagined,andIsuddenlydid

wantwhathewasgoingtodo.

“Wait.”Igasped,hisfingersalreadybeginningtoslowinsideofme.
Ipushedhimbackwithmyhips,spun,anddroppedtomyknees.
Icouldn’thelpit.Iwantedhiminme,wantedthefeelofhimlosingcontrolinsideofmeingrained

inmymind,keepingmewarmwhenhewasjustamemory.

Myfingerswrappedaroundhiscockandheswore.“Fuckingshit,Shannon.”
Ididn’tteasehim.Hisballswerepulledtight,histhicknesshardenedsteelcoveredinsilk.
Iwrappedmylipsaroundhimandsuckedhimdeep.Quickly,withoutpausing,Ibegantakingcare

ofhim.

Hishandsdugintomyhairagain,holdingmeinplacebutlettingmedothework.
Hewasheaven.Deliciousandlargeinmymouth,Iusedmyhandtohelp.Hisballsswung,hitting

meinthechinwitheverythrustforward.Ipoppedoffhisdickandstuckmytongueout,suckingthem
intomymouth.

“Holyfuckingshit,getyourmouthbackonme.”
Icompliedaftertuggingonhisballsonemoretime,feelingthemriseandtighten,thefleshwarm

andrigid.

MymouthwentbacktohistipandIswirledmytonguearoundhim,playingwithhimandsucking

himdeep.Histhrustsincreasedinspeeduntilhisfingersdoveintomyhair,tuggingpainfully.

“Cominginyourmouth,”hewarned,histeethpressedsharplytogether.
InoddedasbestasIcould,notthathe’dseemedtoaskmypermission.
And then he pushed forward, gagging me at the back of my throat before he cursed and pulled

back.

“Fuck.Sorry.Sogood.Holyshit,”hechantedasthefirstspurtshitmytongue,holdingmesteady,

hishipsshakingfromthestressofnotplummetingintomeagain.

Isuckedhimoff,swallowinguntilhewasdoneandhishandswentslackonmyhead.Igavehima

finallick,bathinghiscockwithmytongueandthetasteofusmixedtogether.

Iwasstillcomingdownfrommyownhigh—myownorgasmandthepowerofgivinghimone

heseemedtoenjoysomuch—whenrealityslammeddownonmeinthemerebreathofaquestion.

“Fuckinghell,howinthehellareyousinglewithamouthlikethat?”
Iflinchedandreachedformybathingsuit,scramblingforitwhileonmyknees.
“Myfiancéthoughtitwasmorefuntofucksomeoneelse,Iguess.”

ChapterSIX

OLIVER

“What?”Ireachedforherasshestood,pullingherbacktome.
Shejerkedoutofmytouch,andItookthemomenttopullupmyownshorts.Fuck,thatwashot.

The last thing I’d expected was for Shannon to drop to her knees and suck me off like she’d been
starvedforit.

Iwasstillreelingfromit.Stillshakingandtryingtocatchmybreathwhenthewordsslippedfrom

mymouth.

“Ididn’tmeanitbadly.”Iscrubbedmyhandsdownmyface.Ihadtogetcontrol.“Andanyman

wholetsyougoafterthatisamoron.”

Theironywasn’tlostonme.
Sheshotmealookoverhershoulderthattoldmeshethoughtthesame.
“I’msorry.Givemeaminute.Ithinkyoumighthavesuckedmybrainsoutthroughmydick.”
She laughed, and I knew it was despite herself because she was still getting dressed like she

couldn’twaittogetthehelloutofthere.

Hell. I’d had blowjobs before. Lots of them. I wasn’t kidding when I told Shannon that women

everywherewantedtowraptheirlipsaroundanNFLplayer ’scockforthesolepointofbeingableto
bragaboutdoingso.

Ican’texactlysayI’dbeenparticularbefore,butnothingcomparedtoherexcitement,herlustfor

it.Thewayshe’dactedlikeshehadtohaveitinsideofher.

Mydickhardenedalloveragainjustthinkingaboutthewayshelookedonherknees.Eyeswide

andwatery.Lipsstretchedandbrightpink.

Damnit.Iadjustedmyselfandputmythoughtsinorder.
“Can I start over and say that was fucking amazing? And ignore the part where it hurt your

feelings?”

“That’dbefine.”Shesmootheddownherhair,runningherfingersthroughit.Itwasuseless.She

lookedwellfuckedandwild.

Whatshedidn’tdowaslookatmeinthemirror.
I wanted us back on track. Back to the talk of fantasies and filthy words she didn’t cringe from

whenIspoke.

“Ishouldgo,”shesaid,turningtoavoidme.
Isteppedinfrontofher,resistingtheurgetoshakeher.IfshethoughtIwaslettingherwalkaway

frommenow,shewasoutofherever-lovingmind.

Besides,Iwasstrangelycuriousaboutthisfiancé.NotthatI’dask.
“Comehomewithme.Iwantyouinmybed.”
Shemadeasoundofdisbelief,armscrossedoverhernow-coveredstomachlikeIhadn’thadmy

handsalloverherbodymomentsago.

Nowomanhadeveractedlikeshewantedtohidefromme.Itwasquitetheopposite,generally.

Ilikedthisnewgame.
Icouldn’tresist.Reachingout,Islidafingeralonghercheekandsmiledwhensheshiveredfrom

theslighttouch.

Shefeltthis…whateveritwasthatexistedbetweenus.Ijusthadtofindawaytoburnitoutquickly.
“Ithinkthiswasamistake.”
“Nowayinfuckitwas.Itwasgoingtohappen,andit’llhappenagain.”
“Threateningme?”Shearchedabrow,achallengeinhereyesashershouldersrolledback.
Ishookmyhead.“No,I’mtalkingaboutlivingoutthosefantasiesofours.Istillwanttohearthe

onesyouhadaboutme,andmaybeifI’mfeelinggenerous,I’llgiveittoyou.”

Sheswallowedslowly.Abattleragedinhereyes.Iwaspromisinghernothingbuthotfucking.
Icouldn’tpromisehermorethanthat—Iwasn’tbuiltforit.Notanymore.
“Onenight.”
Ifoughttheurgetogrin.“It’sgoingtotakelongerthanthat.”
ThewordswereoutbeforeIcouldreelthembackin,yetIdidn’tresentthemeither.
“Whatareyouthinking?”
“Throughpreseason.”
Myhalf-harddickwasapparentlycallingtheshots.Nooneeverspentmorethanonenightinmy

bed,muchlessamonth.

Hereyebrowsjumpedonherforehead,archingintoperfectpoints.“Excuseme?”
Iwasasbaffledasshewas.
Ipulledhertowardmethen,herchestagainstmine,andpeereddownather.Shewassosmallin

myarms,sosoftagainstme.

“You feel this,” I said. “You know I’m right. One night is only going to make things worse. We

needtoburnoutthisattractionbetweenus.”

Sheflinchedforamoment,andIthoughtI’dlosther.I’ddeserveit.
She’dessentiallytoldmeherguyhadcheatedonher,andIwasn’tofferinganythingmorestable.

Plus,shehadtohaveknownmyreputation.

ButafterSerenaleft,Ididn’tgiveashitwhoIfucked.
“Iwon’tfuckanotherwomanwhenI’mwithyou.Youhavemywordonthat.”
Becausecheaterswereworsethanplayers.Theywereliars.Iwasashonestastheycame,except

formaybewithmyself.

“Amonth.”Shetestedthewordsonherlips,thinkingitoveroutloud.“Ihaveanewjobtostart.I

can’tbedistracted.”

I’d assumed she was living off Beaux’s income. Fortunately, I was smart enough to hide my

surprise.Iwouldn’taskherwhatshedid.Itdidn’tmatter.

“Tellme.Ifyougohometonight,andareinbedalone,willyoubethinkingofme?Runningyour

fingersthroughyourwetslitandwishingitweremycock?”

Sheshiveredagain,hersilentanswer.
“Takemeuponthis,Shannon.IthinkyouneeditasmuchasIdo.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkthat?”
“Becauseyoujusthadsomeoneuseyouandtreatyoulikeshit.Imightuseyourbody,butyou’ll

alwayshavemyrespect.”

HerlipcurledinthatunhappymannerandIwonderedifIhadcrossedaline.
Surpriseignitedmysenseswhenshesmiled.“Okay.Deal.Onemonth.”
Iturnedtounlockthedoor.“Let’sgotellBeauxwe’releavingthen.”

“Ohno,no,no,no.”Shepressedherhandagainstthedoor,hereyesfrantic.“There’snowayI’m

goingbackoutthere.Notafterthis…thing.”Shewavedherhandbetweenus,andIsmiled.

“This…thing?”
“Yes.”Shegaspedandtuggedatherhair.
Iwasquicklylearningthatplayingwithherhairwashernervoushabit.
“They’llallknow.Allofthem.Theteam…thewomen.OhmyGod!”Hereyesflashedwideand

feral.“They’llthinkI’mwhatyouthinkIam!”Panicstruckherthenandherpalmwenttoherchest.
“That’swhatthey’llthinkofme.ThatI’mjustsomegold-diggingslut,someonewhospreadsherlegs
—”

“Enough.” I pulled her toward me without thought and slammed my lips over hers. It was bad

enough when I heard myself say the words, a thousand times sharper when she repeated them. She
leanedintothekiss,surrenderingandsubmittinglikeIwantedherto.Perfect.

Ipulledaway.“Noonewillsayshit,andiftheydo,I’llfuckinghandleit.”
“Youdon’tknowwhatthewomenarelike.Howcattyandvicious.Jesus,I’veseenitbefore,heard

itbefore,butnowwhatthey’resayingistrue.”

“Andnoneoftheirfuckingbusiness.Whatevergirlfrienddowntheresaysshit,itsaysmoreabout

themthanyouorus.Weknowwhatwe’redoingandthat’sallthatmatters.”

“Dowe?”
No.Ihadnofuckingcluewhatwe’djustagreedto.
“Yes. We’re giving each other what we need, no secrets, no hidden motives. Who cares about

them?”

Isureashelldidn’t.
Before she could panic again, I threw the bathroom door open and pulled her out of it. “Go

downstairsandoutthefrontdoor.I’llgotalktoBeaux.”

“No.Just…let’sgo.I’lltexthimsohedoesn’tworry.TellhimI’llbehomelater.”
“Tomorrowmorning.”
This was getting out of hand faster than I could stop it. My mouth kept speaking what my dick

wanted.

“Ihavetobeatworkearly,”shemumbled.
Icouldn’trememberatimewhenIhadawomanonmyarmthinkingmoreaboutherjobthanthe

orgasmsI’dpromisedtodeliver.

Strangely,itwasn’tahittomyego.
“Earlytomorrow,”Iagreed,unabletohidethesatisfactioninmysmile.“Promise.”
“Okay.”Shenoddedandflittedhereyestome,questioning.“Okaythen.We’regoodtogo,then.”
Shewastryingtoconvinceherself.IfIwereagentleman,hadanymoralsorvaluesleftinsideof

me,I’daskherifshewascertainshewantedthis.Iwasn’tgoingtoforcemyselfonsomeone.

Coercing gently, though…that was another matter. Not giving her time to change her mind, I

pulledherdownthestairs,weavingthroughthemazeofhallwaysinKolby’smansionandouttomy
car.

IttookworktogetmyAudiA8outfromthelineofcarscloselyparkedtogether,andnotforthe

firsttime,IruedthedayI’dsoldmypickupinfavorofasportscar.

Lookthepart,playthepart,bethepart.ItwassomethingmyoldmanhaddrilledintomesinceI

firstcaughtawhiffthatIcouldbegoodenoughfortheNFL.

Oldandbeatenpickuptrucksscreamedsmall-townhick,notathleticsuperstar.
Still didn’t mean I didn’t miss it, though—especially when the urge to go off-roading and

mudding took hold during the off-season months. A man, a truck, a few beers…God, sometimes I
misseditwhenlifewassimpler.

***

“Thisisyourhouse?”
Shecoveredhermouthwithherfingerstostiflehergiggle.
Iglaredather.“Yes.”
Ilovedmyhouse.LikedthatitwasoutinthemiddleofnowheresoontherareoccasionIbrought

awomanhomewithmeandthentookherbacktowhereverthenextday—ifIdidn’tjustcallforacab
—therewasnowayinhellshecouldfindherwayback.Plus,itwastheonlyplaceIcouldfindafew
yearsagowhenIwantedtogetoutofthecityandbacktowhereIwasmostathome.

“Youhaveabarn.”Hereyeswidenedfurtherasshetookinthehorsepaddockandthewhitebarn

totheleftofthehouse.“Horses?”Shespokeslowly,asifIwashardofhearingordidn’tunderstand
English.

“Whydoyousoundlikeyou’reaboutreadytogointoshock?”
Iknewwhy.Nooneexpectedthisofme.Thefewteammateswhohadseenmyhousestillgaveme

shitforit.Nooneeversawitduringthedaytime.

Usually,ItookthemtothehotelroomIkeptduringtheseason.
Myhomewasmysecret.Myplace.Allme.
Why I chose to bring her there during the day when she could actually see it was something I

hadn’tconsidereduntilIsawherexpression.

“It’ssosmall.”Hereyeswerebackonthehouse.Itwas.Asmall,yellowranchthatIkeptmeaning

topaintintheoff-seasonbutcontinuedputtingoff.Icouldhavehiredsomeone,butIwantedtodoit
myself.“Andyellow.”

Shelostthecontrolonherlaughterthenandletitloose.
MyknucklestightenedonthesteeringwheelasIpulledthecarintothegaragebeforeIrelaxed.
IhadessentiallybaredwhoItrulywastoher,byaccident,andshewaslaughinginmyface.
For some reason, I didn’t want to pull out and take her back home. “Keep laughing at me and

you’llbesuckingmydickfordinner.”

Thatstoppedthelaughter.Herheadwhippedaroundtofacemeandherlipsparted.Pinkbloomed

onhercheeksanditwasmyturntolaugh.

“Holyshit,itmakesyousofuckingsexythatyoulikethethoughtofthat.”
Icouldn’thelpmyself.Shekeptgettingbetterandbetter.EverydisgustingwordIspokeseemedto

lightsomethinginsideofher.

“Shut up,” she murmured before blushing harder and putting her hand on the door handle to

escape.Notlikeshecouldgoanywhere.Ihadthirtyacresofemptylandallaroundme.Shecouldrun
andhideinafewofthebuildingssprinkledthroughouttheproperty,butI’denjoysearchingforher.

“Ilikeit.”Ireachedforherarmbeforeshecouldgetoutofthecar.“Itmakesmehardallover

again thinking about the way you liked my dick in your mouth. No fucking joke, Shannon, hottest
thingI’veeverseen.”

She relaxed under my touch, and I released her, climbing out of my car and meeting her at the

passengersideasshegotout.

“So.Touroftheplaceordoyouwanttogostraighttowardmybedroom?”

“Tour.”
I knew she’d say that. I didn’t know the last time I’d offered. But for her, I knew just where to

begin.

“Youeverbeenonafarm?”Iasked,slidingmyhandtohersuntiltheywereentwinedtogether.I

didn’thavetothinkaboutit.

Touchingherwasnatural;sowasherbeinghere.
Sheshookherhead,hergazeonthebarnIwaswalkinghertoward.AswesteppedonthegravelI

stoppedherandcursed.

“Shit.Youdon’thavedecentshoeson.”
“What?”Herbrowfurrowedandshelookeddownatherfeet.
Ipointedtowardtheground.“Stayhere.”
Turning,Irushedintothemudroomofmyhouse,notlookingbacktoseeifshestayed.
WhenIreachedtheroom,Ikickedoffmysandalsandpulledonmyworkboots.ThenIsearched

throughtheclosetanddugouttheonesmymomworewhenshevisited.Shehadn’tbeenhereinover
ayearandtheleatherwasdustyandhardened,butIfiguredthey’dwork.Mymomwasn’tthatmuch
tallerthanShannon.Iftheyweretoobig,they’dstillbebetterinthedirtyhorsebarnthanthesandals
shewaswearing.

IwalkedoutofthehouseandbackthroughthegaragetoseethespotI’dtoldhertoparkitempty.
Instead, I found her at the white fence. One arm draped over the top railing, her other hand

blockingthesunwhileshelookedoutatthefields.

I paused in my tracks, taking in the view of her delicious, barely covered ass before I walked

towardher.

Shewasbeautiful.Curvybutthin,sosoftinmyarms.Mydickwasalreadyhalf-hardagainbythe

timeIreachedher.

“It’ssobeautifulandquiethere.”Hervoicewassoft,almostasifshewastalkingtoherself.
“You’refromIowa—landoffarmsandcornandsoybeanfields.”
Fromherprofile,Isawherlipstiltintoasmile.“Yeah,butIlivedindowntownDesMoines.It’s

notabigcity,butitwasneverasquietasthis.”

Itshouldn’thavemademesmilethatshelikedwhereIlived.
Iheldoutthebootstoher.“Puttheseon.”
Shelookedatmyoutstretchedhandandfrowned.Iknewwhatshewasthinking.She’dbeashitty

pokerplayer.Everyexpressionshehadwasplainandunhiddenonherface.

“They’remymom’s.Noone’sworntheminayear,butthey’llkeepyoucleanerthanthesandals.”
Hereyesflickeredtomebeforeshefinallytookthemfrommyhand.
Onceshe’dkickedoffhersandalsandslidontheboots,shestoodupandgrinned.
Anddamnitifthatgrindidn’tburnstraighttomychest.Shekeptnothinghidden,notherfearor

herhappiness.

It was that moment I knew that whatever we’d decided was a mistake. A stupid agreement for

meaninglesssex—evenifitwasdirty,raw,andfuckingamazingsex—wasgoingtoruineverywall
I’dbuiltsinceSerenawalkedawayfromme.

Iwassmarterthanthis.KnewwhatIneededtodotokeepmyheadinthegameandmyeyeonthe

ball.Ishouldhavepickedherup,thrownherinmycar,andtakenhertoBeaux’simmediately.

I didn’t do anything I should have when she looked at me, giggling before she looked down at

bothofourboot-coveredfeet.“Welookridiculous.Swimsuitsandboots.”

Still thinking with my cock, I reached out and took her hand in mine and pulled her toward the

barn.

“I’vegotthreehorses,”Isaidaswewalked.“Youeverride?”
“Once.WhenIwasten.”
Ilookeddownatherandwaitedforabetterexplanation.
“Ihadafriendwhowantedtoridehorses.Shetookabunchofusforherbirthdaypartytoaplace

wherewecouldridehorsesonatrail.ItwasonlyanhourandIwassoyoung.”

“Butyoulikedit.”Icouldtellbythewayhereyeswenthazyasshepulledthememorytothefront

ofhermind.

“Yeah.”
Thatonewordmademehappierthanitshouldhave.
Iopenedthedoortothebarn,droppingherhandfromminetounlockthedoubledoorsandpush

them open. As we stepped inside, the unmistakable smell of horseshit and hay and dirt made her
crinklehernose.

But she said nothing. She walked forward, down the row to the last few stalls where the noises

fromthehorsesgrewlouder.

“That’s Winne,” I said as she stepped up to the first mare. If I was honest, she was my favorite

horse.I’dboughtherwhenshewastwoandshehadbeenmishandledandskittish.Ittookforeverto
tameherandgethertotrustanyone,buttheresultshadbeenworththework.

Now she was kind and gentle, all brown and black. Shannon stepped closer to the door and

Winne’slargeeyesturnedexcitedassheblinkedatthenewcomer.

Sheneigh,pullingherlipsback,andShannonyankedherhandbackinsurprise.
“It’sokay,”Imurmured,speakingquietlytocalmWinne.IreacheddownandtookShannon’shand

inmineandIheldbothofourpalmsouttowardthehorse.“She’llsenseifyou’renervous.Lether
sniffyouandshe’llletyoupethersoon.”

“Okay.”HervoicetrembledmuchlikeherfingersandItightenedmygriponherhand.
Itonly took afew seconds forWinne to register myscent and Shannon’sbefore she dipped her

head,tookastepcloser,andturnedherneck.

“Thereyougo,”IwhisperedtothehorseasmuchastoShannon.“That’sagoodgirl.”
IlaidmyhandonWinne’sneckandheldittherewhileShannongentlybeganbrushingherhand

upanddownthehorse.

Weweresilent,theonlysoundcomingfromtheotherhorsessteppingontheirhay,eagerfortheir

turnandsnacks.

“Keeppettingher.I’llgethertreats.”
Ineededspace.Myheartwaspumpingfasterthanitshouldhavebeen.SeeingShannoninthebarn,

touchingmyhorses—lovingly—anachegrewdeepinsidemygut.

Onlyanhourintoamonth-longagreementandIwasalreadydebatingifIshouldendthisasfast

as I could. I should have known this would be her reaction. So far, she’d busted through every
preconceivednotionIhadofher.WhatthefuckdidIthinkwasgoingtohappenwhenIbroughtherin
here?

I grabbed a couple handfuls of apples from the horses’ snack bin and walked back to Winne,

holdinganappleouttoShannon.

We’dfeedthem.Thenwe’dfuck.
Andaftereatingdinner,fuckagain.
“She’ssobeautiful,”ShannonsaidwhenWinnerearedbackandgobbledtheappleoutofherhand.

Shannonsquealedasthehorse’slipsgrazedherpalm.

“Don’tcloseyourfingers—keepthemstraightoutorshe’lleatthosetoo.”
Shannonflashedmewide,disbelievingeyes,andIshrugged,jugglingtheremainingapplesinmy

hands.

“Didyounameher?”
“Idid.”
Herlipspressedtogether.“It’saprettysweetnameforahorse.”
“Shewasarescue.”WhywasIbotheringtoexplain?AftertonighttherewasnowayinhellIwas

everbringingherbacktothisplace.Shewasalreadylookingtoocomfortableandwehadn’tyetgone
inside.

Fromnowon,Iwasfuckingheratthehotel.
“Shehadn’tbeentakencareofandwashardtotrain.Butsincethen,she’sbeenthegentlesthorse

I’veeverhad.Sheneededanametomatch.”

I looked away when Shannon’s eyes went soft. She was thinking things about me that she

shouldn’t.

IbrokethemomentandwalkedtoRalph’sstall.Hewasold,probablywouldn’tlivemuchlonger,

butI’dhadhimsinceIwasinhighschool.HewasthefirsthorsethatwasallmineandthereasonI’d
boughtthedamnlandtobeginwith.Afterlivingwithouthorsesandspaceforsolong,Icouldn’tstop
missinghim.

Therewassomethingthatwassofreeingaboutgettingonahorseattheendofashitacularday,

when every muscle ached to the bone and I’d royally fucked up at a game. Ralph had always
understoodwhatIneeded.

Now,hewastoooldtoridetoooften,butIstillmadesurehegottheexerciseheneeded.He’dlost

theenergyandpepheusedtohaveandwhenIwalkeduptohim,knowingShannonwasfollowing
me,hebrushedhisheadagainstmine.

“Settle down, boy,” I said and handed him an apple. He took it slowly, knowing I’d give him an

extraone.Healwaysgottwo—becausehewasoldandmyfirstandIbabiedtheshitoutofhim.

God,IhadneverrealizedhowbigofapussyIbecamearoundmyhorsesuntilIwastakingcareof

themunderShannon’ssoftandwatchfulgaze.

Irubbedhimdown,whisperingwordstohimthatIwouldn’tletherhearbeforeIturnedbackand

sawherwalkingtothestallion’sstall.

“Don’tgettooclose.He’sstillnervousaroundnewpeople.”
Hulk was a monster. Eighteen hands tall, all shiny black stallion. Beautiful and graceful and

powerfulashell.HegavemethethrillthesedaysthatRalphnolongercould.

But he was also an asshole. To prove it, as Shannon stopped three feet back from his stall, he

rearedontohishindlegsandkickedatthedoor.

Shejumpedback,andIwrappedmyhandaroundherbacksoshedidn’tfall.
“Toldyou.Hecanbeanasshole.”
“Isthatwhyyoulikehim?”Shelookedupatme,smiling.“Remindyouofsomeone?”
“Yes.”Ididn’tgrin,butitwastrue.
Hulkwastheuntamable.He’dneverfullysubmit,andbecauseofthatIhadtobecarefulwithhim.

Only Lee—the caretaker who helped me with the horses during the season when I was busier and
traveling—andIrodehim.

Myownfatherwasn’tallowedtoridehimanymore.
IclickedmytonguewithmyteethandwalkedtowardHulk.“Comehere,boy.”
Heshuffledbacktothefarendofthestall,nottakinghiseyesoffShannon.

“It’sokay.”
Heshookhisheadbackandforth,disagreeingwithme,andIcouldn’thelpbutsmile.
“He’sastubbornprick,too.”
“Again,”Shannonmumbled.“Soundsfamiliar.”
When I flashed her a mock glare, she arched her brows, raised her shoulders. “I didn’t imply it

wasyou,butifthat’showyoutookit…”

HervoicetrailedoffasIheldouttheappletoHulk.“I’veonlyhadthisguyayear.He’sstillabit

wild.”

“Andtheoneyouwerehugging?”ShepointedherthumbbacktoRalphwithouttakinghereyes

offme.

Withthatlook,thequestion,andthefactthatIwasfuckingintroducingawomantomyhorses,she

rippedmewideopen.

Bareandnakedandvulnerableintheworstway.Somethingtwistedinmygut.
“Ralph’sold.MinefromhomeandthereasonIboughtthisplace.”
“Youlovehim.”
Mylipcurledatacorner.Shewaspushing,pressingtoohard,withoutrealizingit.
For a moment, my chest heaved from her knowing gaze. Like she’d finally figured out who I

reallywas,deepdown,whereIhadn’tletanyoneinsinceSerena.

Angerbubbledinsidemeatmyownstupidity.
Raw, dirty fucking. Fulfilling fantasies. Burning out this insanely ridiculous attraction that had

invadedmesincethemomentIsawher.

Shewasjustpussy…hotandsexypussy,butpussyI’dgrowtiredofnonetheless.
“Ididn’tbringyouheretomeetmyhorses,”Ifinallysaid.
Itookasteptowardher,lickedmylips,andpeeredatherwithwickedintent.
Ihadactuallywantedhertomeetthem.Whatafuckingmistakethatwas.Ishouldhavejustpulled

herintomyhouseandtakenhertomybed,gottenridofherlikeeveryoneelse.

ThebarnwasafuckingmistakeI’drectify.
“Youdidn’t?”HerbreathhitchedandherpulseflutteredatthebaseofhercollarboneasIwalked

closer.

“No.”Iputmyhandaroundherwaistandpulledhertome.Mycockwasalreadystraininginside

myboardshorts,myballsthickandheavy,filledwithneedforhertightandwetcunt.“Ibroughtyou
inheretofuckyou.”

ChapterSEVEN

SHANNON

Igaspedashisotherhandhitmywaistandheliftedme.Oninstinct,Igrippedhisshouldersand

tightenedmythighsaroundhiships.“What?”

“Youheardme.”
He walked toward the front of the barn, and for a moment I thought he was leaving before he

pushedastalldooropenandcontinuedwalkinguntilmybackpressedagainstroughwood.

Iquicklytookinthesmallbutcleanspace.“Oliver.”
Mytonewasquestioning,somethinghesilencedwhenhelookeddownatmebeforeglancingata

spotabovemyhead.

Hisintenseexpressionshiftedtosomethingdarker.Sexierandwicked.
Mythighstrembledwithexpectation.
“Liftyourhands.”
“What?”Itiltedmyheadbacktoseeaheavy,thickhookhangingfromthewall.
“IwantyoutoholdontothathooksoIcandroptomykneesandlickyourpussyIcanfucking

feel through our clothes until you shatter. Here. Inside this barn.” One of his brows arched. “That
enoughofanexplanationforyou?”

Itwasmorethanenough.Myswimsuitbottomsgrewwetashetalked.ButIsawsomethingelsein

hiseyesasIpulledmyfingersoffhisshouldersanddidwhatIwastold.

Itwasn’tsatisfactionwithmyobedience.Itwasthewayhehadsoquicklyclosedhimselfoffwhen

I’daskedaboutthehorses.Hewasn’tthemanI’dthoughthewas.

Hewasn’tthemanI’dreadaboutinmagazines,allarrogantandcockyandsexyashell.
Sure,hewas,buthewasalsomorethanthat.Foramoment,whenhe’dwhisperedtothehorses

andfedthemandtalkedsoftly…hell,thiswholehousehelivedin…thiswaswhohereallywas.

Yethehidit.
It was none of my business. I knew the agreement we’d made and I was okay with it, but I also

knewthatashardasit’dnowbeformetonotfallforhim,itwouldbeequallyhardforhimtobe
vulnerableinfrontofmeagain.

He’dmadethatclearwiththequickchangeindirection.
MyfingerswrappedaroundthewarmmetaluntilIclungtoit.Withahandonmystomach,Oliver

pushedmeagainstthewall,holdingmesteadyuntilhedroppedtohiskneesinfrontofme.

“Shit. I can smell you already,” he murmured, adjusting my legs so they dropped over his

shoulders. With the height of the hook he’d hung me from, I was at the perfect level for him to do
whathewanted.

Hedidn’tremovemyclothesormyswimsuitbottoms.
Slidinghisfingersovermyclothed,hot,andswollenflesh,hepushedthegussettothesideand

leanedin.

“Damnit.”Igaspedashelickedme.“Shit.”

“Oh.”Hepulledbackandgrinnedupatme—thatwicked,dirtysmile.“Ifyouscreamyou’llscare

thehorses.Sobequiet.”

Icouldbarelysuckinabreathbeforehedippedhishead.Hisfingersdugintomyhip,holdingme

steadywhilehisotherhandheldmeopenandreadyforhim.

My entire body shook as soon as he touched me again. Giving me no time to prepare for it, he

penetratedme…mypussy,mybody.Hewaseverywhere,deepinsidemeashistongueworkedinevil,
softcircles,drivingmecrazyandburningwithneedtoreleaseassoonashetouchedme.

But I’d been like that as soon as we’d arrived. Hell, as soon as we’d finished at Kolby’s I was

already wanting him again. This attraction between us was something I’d never experienced. It was
unexplainable,unavoidable.

“Oliver,” I mewled as he added fingers to his teasing and touching. It was too much—too much

heatandtoomuchfrictionastheroughwoodatmybackabradedmyskin.

Isqueezedmyeyesclosedandeverythingbesidesthefeelofhimandthewaymybodybeganto

tightenandpulsedisappeared.

Mythighsbegantospasmonhisshouldersasheheldmepressedopen.Myfingersachedfrom

clingingtothehook.

“Quiet,”hemutteredagainstme.“You’resofuckingdelicious.Icouldeatyouallday,butyou’re

goingtocomesoon,aren’tyou?”

His fingers twisted inside me, pulled and pushed, pressed against the perfect spot, and I

whimpered.

“Yes,”Imoanedandbitmyliptostopfromscreaminglikehe’dwarnedme.“Yes,Iam.Please…”
“Sofuckingdelicious.”Hegroanedbeforehismouthopened.Andthentheteasingwasdone.
Hedidn’tjustlickandtasteme,heateme.
Hedevouredme,suckingonmyclitandnibblingwithhisteeth.Pullingandfeastingonmelikehe

couldnevergetenough.

Theonslaughtofsensationswastoomuch—hisfingers,hismouth,histongue,andhisteeth.The

spasms hit my body out of nowhere and powerfully. My body shook from the pleasure, from the
surpriseofit.Myorgasmcoiledatmycenterandshotallthewaytomytoesandfingertips.

IshoutedhisnameasIconvulsedaroundhim.Mythighstriedtoclosearoundhim,buthedidn’t

stopfeastinguntilhe’dpulledeverywildshudderandquiverstraightthroughme.

The horses neighed. The sound of one hitting its stall door surprised me and I yelped, pulling

backandhittingmyheadagainstthewall.

“Please, stop.” I gasped as his tongue began to draw slow, swirling circles on my clit. “Too

much.”

“Youcangoagain.Icanfeelit.”
Idroppedmyheadthenandglareddownathim.Wewerebothstillclothed,thetopofmypeach

cover-upbunchedinhishandatmyhip.

Icouldbarelyseehim.Itdidn’tmatter.
Whenhedippedhisheadagain,eatingmelikehehadallfuckingdaytokeepmeproppedagainst

abarnwall,hewasabsolutelyright.

Ittookmomentsbeforeanotherclimaxhitme,thistimedeeperbutslower,lessdramaticbutno

lesspowerful.

I chanted in a whisper, nonsensical sounds and gasps of his name and curse words repeated.

Please,no,stop,toomuch,ohshit,fuck,yes,coming…Theyallfellfrommylipswithoutthought.

Only ecstasy coursed through my body until he finally pulled back, adjusted my bottoms, and

stood,pullingmeintohisarms.

“My dick is so fucking hard for you right now,” he said as I draped my arms around his

shoulders.

Iwaslistlessinhisarms,barelyabletohelpholdmyselfaroundhimashetookusoutofthebarn,

pausingonlytomakesurehelockeditbehindus.Myeyelidsdrooped,heavyfromthepleasurehe’d
givenme,andIwasbarelyawakewhenhewalkedinside,kickedoffhisboots,andpulledmineoffin
hismudroombeforehewalkedthroughthesmallhouseintoamassivebedroom.

Hedroppedmeontothebed,thenwhippedoffmycover-upbeforeIcouldblinkandlookaround.
Thenhisshirtwasgone,hisshortsdroppedtothefloor.
HishandswenttomyswimsuitandIsquirmedenoughtoremovemytopforhim.
“You okay for a little bit more?” he asked, already reaching into his nightstand, pulling out a

condom,andcoveringhisharddick.“Icanletyourecover,butthisisgoingtobefuckingquick,I
knowit.”

Ilaughedsoftlyathishonesty,unabletohelpmyself.Brushinghairoutofmyeyes,Igrinnedupat

him,unashamedIwasspreadoutnakedbeforehim.

Standinginfrontofmewasamanwhocouldbecarvedoutofmarbleandnoonewouldknowthe

difference.Everymuscleinhischestandabs,hissidesandhishipsdowntohisthighs…everythingI
sawmadedroolpoolinmymouth.Heatbegantocurlinsideofmealloveragain.

Ispreadmylegsandreachedforhimashebentoverme,thebedshiftingfromtheweightashe

crawledontoit.

“I’mgood,”Isaid,myvoicebreathlessandmythroatdry.“Goasquickasyouneed.”
Hesmirked,pressedonehandnexttomyshoulder,andIwrappedmylegsaroundhim.
Hisotherhandwrappedaroundhiserection,hesliditthroughmyslitandgroaned.“You’rewet

again.Fuckingshit.”

EmbarrassmentfloodedmycheeksandIglanceddown,watchinghimslidehisthicknessthrough

myfolds.

“Don’tblush,”hewhisperedashepressedtheheadofhimselfatmyentrance.“It’ssexyashell.”

Hedroppedhisheadandgroaned,andwebothwatchedashepressedintome.“Sofuckingtight.”

“Goslow,”Iwhispered.Mybodywasunaccustomednotonlytosexbuttosomeoneofhissize.I

achedfromtherawnessofwhathe’dalreadydonetomesomanytimestodayandfrommymuscles
stretchingtoaccommodatehim.

Hepushedinslowly,pullingbackoutevenmoreso.Hisarmnexttomequiveredfromthestrain

ofcontrol.

“You okay?” he asked, lifting his head to look me in the eyes. We were inches away from each

other,closeenoughthatIcouldleanupandkisshim.Ididn’t.

We’d been intimate enough, and the look in his eyes—the intensity along with the confusion—

mademepullback.

Hewantedtofuckme.Hedidn’twanttolikeme.I’dwantedthesameuntilIsawhiseyesgosoft

when he whispered into one of Ralph’s ears. It had been endearing and sweet, something I knew he
hadn’tintendedformetosee.

“I’mgood.”Inoddedandinhaledadeepbreath.“Movehowyouneedto.”
My permission shot through him like the snap of a rubber band. He didn’t ask for my certainty

again.Hejustshovedhiships,pressingintomewithaquick,hardmovementuntilhewasfullyinside.

Ipressedmyheadbackintothepillowbeneathme,myfingersclawingatthemusclesinhisback.
He went wild as he began thrusting and pulling back. The quick thrust of his hips against me

wouldleavebruises.Hismuscles,theweightofhim,itallsentmespinningandflyingasIhungon
forthewildride.

“Feelsogood.Sotight.Sofuckingwet.”
Hiseyeswereclosed,hislipstwistedwithraptureandconcentrationashedroppedtohiselbows.

His coarse chest hair brushed against my nipples, hardening them into painful points with every
scrapeofhisbodyagainstmine.

Itightenedmygripjustabovehiships,mybodyheatingandignitingwitheverywickedthrust.
“Oliver.”Ichantedhisname,unabletocontrolmyself.Imethismovements,pulledhimtome.
Hislipspartedandhisheaddipped.Hepressedhismouthtomine,histongueinstantlyinvading,

andIwassurroundedbyhim.

Byhiskisses,hisweight,hisscent,hismuscles,andthepowerfulpistoningofhishipshittingthe

endofmeeverytimehemoved.

Ourtonguesswirledtogether,matchingthemovementofhiscock.Hefuckedmymouthlikehe

fuckedmypussy.Hegrewmorefranticandweswallowedeachother ’sgroansasmypussyclenched
aroundhim,tighteningandflexingwithanotherorgasm.Itcameunbiddenbutwasasrecklessashe
was.Myabstightened,heatshotfrommyspinetomysex,andIgrippedhim,nailsdiggingintohis
skinsohardIknewthey’dleavemarks,butitonlyseemedtomakehimcrazed.

He lifted his mouth from mine abruptly and then he buried his head into my neck as he seated

himselfharshlyinsideofme,balls-deep.

Hegroanedagainstmyskin,hishandmovingtodigintomyhair,andheheldmybodytightlyto

him,moldedtohimashisownorgasmrolledthroughhim.

I held on to him, loosening my grip to place my palms to his flesh. He was hot and sweating,

muscleseverywhere,andmypalmseasilyslidupanddownthelengthofhisback.

“I’mcrushingyou.”
Ilikedit,morethanIcouldorwouldadmit.“Mm-hmm.”
Once his breath caught, he pulled back and I released my hold on him reluctantly. Surprise

envelopedmeashisgazesearchedmine.I’dexpectedhimtopulloutimmediatelyandcleanup,not
lookatmewithwide-eyedwonder.Instead,hisgazecarriedthesameconfusionIknewminedid.The
worrythatwe’dsomehowcrossedaline.

Thatallofthis…theday,ourlustforeachother,howgooditfeltwhenweweretogether…itwas

alltoomuchandtoounexpected.

His eyes left mine and trailed over my face, and then around me. “Fantasy one fulfilled,” he

whispered quietly, a soft, pleased smile on his lips. “You look more gorgeous with your wild and
crazyhairallovermypillowthanIthoughtyouwould.”

Ichuckledsoftly.
Hepulledmebackfromtheheavinessofmythoughtsandremindedmeofwhatwewerewithout

beinganassaboutit.

“Youweren’tsobadyourself.”
Ipattedhisassandgaspedasitmadehimmoveinsideofme.
“Fuckinghell.Ineedsomerecoverytime,”hesaid,hislipstwistingintoasmirk.
“Good.” I shifted beneath him, unable to move, but he seemed to understand my intent. “Then

maybeyoucouldfeedmeandgivemesomethingdecenttowearbeforewegoagain.”

His eyes searched mine, and I wondered if for once I was able to hide my lies behind my

expressiveeyes.Heseemedtobuyitenough,eitherbecauseIhadsuddenlygrowntheabilitytolieor
becausehewantedtobelievetheeasinessinmywordsasmuchasIdid.

“Shirtsinthetopdrawer,shortsbeneaththem.Helpyourselftoanythingyouwant.”
He hesitated before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine. “I’ll go get cleaned up and

leaveaclothforyouinthebathroom.”

***

IlookedatOliverovermyshoulderwhereIwasdiggingthroughhisfridgeforsomethingelseto

drink.We’dalreadyeatengrilledsteakandvegetables,butIwasthirsty.

Hehadadozenprepackagedcontainerslabeledforshakeslinedupandstackedtoonesideofthe

small,regularwhitefridge.

Everything I’d seen of Oliver since I slid into his lusciously leathered and beautiful car had

thrownmeforaloop.

“Doyouneedaproteinshakeorwater?”
Heliftedhisbrowbeforeshakingoffwhateverthoughthehad.“Both.Icangettheshake,though.”
“Noproblem.”Iturnedbacktothefridgeandpulledoutthesmallcontaineralongwithtwobottles

ofwater.

Theblenderwasalreadyoutonthecountertop,soIhelpedmyselftoit,dumpinginthecontentsof

theveggiesbeforereachingforthejarofproteinpowderonthecounter.

“Youmakethesealot?”Oliveraskedashereachedaroundmeandtwistedoffthetopofthewater

bottle.“Beauxmakeyoutakecareofhim?”

Istiffenedatthementionofmybrother—howanythingI’ddonetohelphimsucceedwasbecause

he’dmademe.“No.ImakethembecauseIcareabouthim.”

HewassilentforamomentwhileIdumpedinthepowder,andthentheonlysoundintheroom

was the whirling of the blender. I blended it longer than necessary, stabbing buttons to turn it off,
unabletohidemyirritation.

“Tellmeabouthim.What’sBeauxreallylike?”
Ifrownedatthequestion.“He’sBeaux.I’mnotsureIunderstand.”
Taking the mixer out of my hands, Oliver twisted and reached for a glass, dumping the thick

greensludgeinside.

Heslammeditback,chuggingitinoneswallow,andcringedbeforehecleanedhismouthwiththe

backofhishand.

“Ihaveahardtimereadinghim.Andinordertotrusthim,Ineedtoknowhim.”
“Perhapsit’shistrustyouhavetoearn.”Iarchedachallengingbrow.Yeah,Oliverwastheveteran

ontheoffensiveline,andhewasteamcaptain.ButBeauxwasstilltheQB.Hehadtotrustwhohewas
throwingtheballto,nottheotherwayaround.

“Canwetalkabouthimwithoutyougettingdefensive?”
Igroundmyteethtogether.WasthatwhatI’dbeendoing?Forsolong,ithadjustbeenBeauxand

meagainsttheworld.Itwasahardwalltodrop.

“Sorry.Whatisit?”Ireachedformyownwaterandtookaseatatthesmallbutcozykitchentable.
Thistime,Oliverseemedtomeasurehisthoughtsbeforespeaking.“Ishereallyaslaid-backashe

seems?”

Itiltedmyhead.“Yeah.Iguess.Hedoesn’tletanythinggettohim.Isthatwhyyou’vebeensucha

dicktohim?Youdon’tthinkhetakesthisshitseriously?”

“Therearemenwhojointhegameforthegameandnotthework.”

I snorted. If he only knew. “How cute. I’ll tell Beaux that. He’ll think it’s fucking hilarious. You

thinkhemadeitasfarashehasbasedsolelyonnaturaltalentandnothisworkethic?Howfucking
hypocriticalofyou.”

Oliver ’swaterbottlecrushedinsidehisdeathgrip.“Helacksintensity.Itworriesme.”
“Hehasconfidenceinhisabilityandthemembersofhisteaminspades.Thatkeepshimloose.”
It hit me then, why it bothered him so much. My irritation that had prickled at the first question

begantoflickeranddisappear.“That’swhyitbothersyou,isn’tit?He’senjoyinghimselfoutthere.
Playinghishardest,lovingtherideandthelifeandthegameandhell,everythingelsehehastodoin
ordertogetontopandstaythere,anditpissesyouoffhedoesthatwhilestillhavingfun.”

Hislipcurled.I’dmademypoint.
“Tellhimhe’shesitatingahalf-secondtoolonginthepocket.Heneedstospeeduphisthrowsor

he’sgoingtogetsackedeverygame.”

“Maybeyoushouldgetopenquicker.”
Another lip curl. Another wave of irritation rolled off him like a tidal wave. Something else I

couldn’tmisssparkedandburnedbrighter.

“Fuckinghell,”Olivergrowled.“Howisitthatyou’repissingmeoff,andallIcanthinkaboutis

bendingyouoverthistableandfuckingtheattitudeoutofyou?”

Adelicious,warmshiverrolleddownmyspine.
“You want that?” He stepped forward, setting the damaged bottle on the counter. “Do you know

howfuckinghotitisthatIcanreadeverythoughtthatflashesthroughyoureyes?Youhidenothing
fromme.”

Thatcouldbeadisasteratsomepoint.
I swallowed a huge gulp of water to settle my nerves and stood from my chair. “Exactly how

wouldyoulikeittohappen?”

Iturnedmybacktohimthenandpulledhisgrayshirt,whichI’dthrownonearlier,overmyhead.
I’dbarelygottenittossedontothefloorwhenoneofhishandswasatmyhip,theotherbetween

myshoulderblades,pushingmedown.

Andthenmyshortswerepulleddown,mylegskickedapart.
His lips hit my shoulder and I heard the tear of foil right before his cock drove into me, not

givingmetimetoadjust—butIwasalreadywetandreadyforhim.

Whenweweredone,helearnedthatevenadeliciouslyhardfuckingthatwasquickandpowerful

wasn’tenoughtoerasetheattitudefromme.

ChapterEIGHT

OLIVER

ImovedmorehayintoWinne’sstall,mybackhurtingworsethanitshouldhavebeen.It’dbeen

buggingmeformonthsnow.Notpainful,butadullachethatneverseemedtogoawaydespitepain
medsanddeeptissuemassagesandchiroappointments.

Yesterday and last night’s activities had made the pain flare up, but I wouldn’t change a damn

thing.

I was still hoping to finish cleaning out the stalls before Shannon woke up. The sun was just

startingtorise,andwhileIknewshesaidshehadtogethomeearly,IfiguredIstillhadtime.

IhadplansforherbeforeIhadtotakeherbacktoherbrother ’s.
We’dreachedanimpasseyesterdaywhenI’dtalkedaboutBeaux.Herdefenseofhimalongwith

thefactthatshe’dreadmesowellmademenotwanttojumpintothattopicofhimeveragain.

Hewasn’tgoingtokickmyassforfuckinghissister.AndImighttrytobelessofadicktohim.
Ipushedpeople.
I always had. I wanted to be the best and needed to know everyone else on my team wanted the

samething.Seeingsomeonesokickedbackandchilloverpracticesandincompletethrowsandbad
playsateatsomethingdeepinsideme.

Shannonhadalsobeenright—notthatI’dadmitit.I’dlosttheenjoymentofthegamealongtime

ago.

Ilovedfootball.Itwasrooteddowndeepinme,insidemymarrow.Overthelastfewyears,it’d

beentoohardtostayontop.Toomuchworktostaythenumberonetightendintheleague.Toomuch
work to stay pain free. I was kidding myself if I wasn’t getting tired of it. Plus, at thirty, retirement
was knocking on my door, whispered through the halls and in the voices of sportscasters—not to
mentioninmyownhead,lateatnightwhenthesoundsofbirdsandcricketswereallIheard.

Itwasbarrelingdownonme.Ihadanothertwoorthreeyearsatmost,andthatdamngoldring

was calling to me—laughing at me in the distance, mocking my inability to take my team there
earlier.

And yeah, maybe that was why I drove Beaux harder, pushed him more than I ever would have

Mason.

Iwasn’tpissedthatMasonhadgonefreeagentandBeauxhadbeentraded.IwaspissedthatMason

andIhadn’tbeentheonestobringtheSuperBowlwintoRaleigh.

Iwantedit.Iwantedtheparadeandthemadnessandtherecognitionthatmyteamwasthebest.
Wehaditinus.
Nexttome,Hulkbatteredagainstthedoorofhisstall,anxiousforhisearlymorningrideIdidn’t

havetimefor.

“Settle, boy.” I moved the remaining hay around Winne’s stall before propping the pitchfork on

the far wall. I went to the stall she was waiting in and moved her back into hers before locking the
doorandgoingtoseeHulk.

HisblackeyesnarrowedwhenIcamecloser,thatdistrustsosimilartoShannon’swhenIspoke

dirtytoher.

She didn’t trust me, and she shouldn’t. So far I’d worked to earn Hulk’s, but if things went

accordingtomyplanwithShannon,therewasnopointinearninghers.

She’dbegonebeforetherewastimeanyway.
Hulk whined and bucked against the door again, thrusting his head out of the stall and toward a

noiseIcouldn’tyethear,butIstillturnedtolookatthebarndoorsjustintimetoseeShannonrush
throughthem.

Hercurlyhairwaswildanduntamed,flyingoutbehindherwhensheslidinthedirtandbraced

herselfagainstthedoorway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She was breathless, a hand pressed to her chest. She’d

alsoalreadythrownbackonyesterday’sbarelyexistentoutfitofherswimsuitandcover-up.

Iscowledatthelook.She’druinedmyideaofwakingherupwithmymouthalloverher.
“I’mhere.”Iwalkedtowardherandcheckedmywatch.“Whatareyoudoingup?It’sstillbefore

six.”

“ItoldyouIhadtogethomeearlytoday.”
She had, but early by most people’s standards wasn’t before seven. Another way I’d

underestimatedher,apparently.

“Do you have to go now?” I asked, cutting the distance between us by half. “Because I’m done

here,andIwasthinkingofjoiningyouinbed,mymouthonyou,yourhandsdiggingintomyhair,
yourlegsspreadopenforme.”

HerbreathingfalteredwhenIreachedher.Iplacedmyglovedhandsonherhips,smilingasshe

shiveredatmytouch.

Shewassotransparent.Sopliant.Herpinktonguedartedoutandswipedherlips.
Insteadoftakingmeuponmyoffer,shesteppedbackandpushedherhandsthroughherunruly

hair.

“I can’t. I really have to get back to town and get to work. There’s so much to do.” Her voice

thickenedasshelookedupatme,longblacklashesflickeringwildlyaspinkburstontohercheeks.
“And,well,I’mreallysore.”

Thethrillofvictoryburstinmychest,andIcouldn’tstopmygrin.“Imadeyousore?”
Shenodded.
“Imadeyouhurtinawaythatwillmakeyourememberyesterdayandlastnight.”
Sheclearedherthroat.“Andearlyintothemorning,yes.”
“Doyourhipsache?Doesyourpussyhurt?”
Shelookedawayfrommethen,thepinkspreadingtoherthroatandchest.“Don’tbesovulgar.”
“Youhavetoknowthat’sthehottestthingI’veeverheard.”
Not that I’d done it. We’d been wild. Hell, my dick was sore, too. Not so sore I couldn’t—and

wouldn’t—goagain,butshe’ddrainedmedry.

“YousaythingstomethatIthinkshouldgrossmeout.”
“Buttheydon’t.”Ipulledhertome,myhandatherhip.“Andthat’swhythiswillwork.Youlike

myfilthywords.Youlikethattheyturnyouon.Thisnextmonth…yougettoenjoywhateverthefuck
youwanttodo,knowingyouhavesomeonewillingtodowhateveryouwant.”

“Andyou?Whatdoyouget?”
“SomeonewhogetsoffondoingwhateverIwant.”
Her pulse jumped into her throat and she swallowed. For a moment I thought she was going to

takemeupontheideaI’dhadaboutwakingherup.Icoulduseashower,andalong,relaxingone
woulddomytightmusclessomegoodbeforeIhadtogettothestadium.

“Ishouldgo,”shewhispered,pullingaway.
TherumbleofLee’sengineechoedinthedistance,growingcloser.
Sheturnedhereyestome.“Who’sthat?”
“Lee.”Ipulledoffmyworkglovesandtossedthemonanearbyshelf.“Hehelpswithmyhorses

duringtheseason.”

“Andoffseason?”
“Idoit.”
Shedidn’thidehersurprise.“You?Allofthisland?Theworkinthebarnandthehorses?”
Icouldn’thidemyscowl.Orthefactmynextwordsfellwithdisdain.“Notallofuscantourthe

countryinpartybuses.”

ItwaswhatBeauxhaddonelastsummer,andthesummerbefore.Thedaytheseasonended,he’d

hoppedintoatricked-outRV,gatheredfriendsfromwherever,andtookoff.Lastyearthere’dbeenan
Instagramfeeddevotedsolelyto“Where’sHale?”

Shannon stiffened at the comment. I didn’t take it back. Seemed as if I wasn’t the only one

underestimatingaperson,andIdidn’tcareenoughtoapologize.

“Hey,Ollie,”Leeshoutedasheclimbedoutofthetruck.HetookinShannon’smessedandunruly

appearancewithouthidingthesurpriseonhisface.“Hello,”hesaid,walkingdirectlytowardher.“I’m
Lee.Powell’scaretaker.Andyouare?”

“Leaving,”Shannonwhispered.Herangryburningeyesflashedtome.“I’mleavingsoon.”
Lee tipped his hat in her direction and wished her a good day, giving me a scathing look as he

passed.

“Ifyougivemeafewminutestochangeandgrabmyworkoutbag,I’llgetyouhome.”
Sheclearedherthroat.“I’llwaitforyoubythecar.”
She walked away to the fence as Lee guided Ralph out to the paddock. There, he saddled him.

RalphwouldroamthecircleforawhilebeforeLeewouldcomebackoutandgivehimhismorning
ride.

I tried not to look back this time, but when I reached the door to my house, I couldn’t help but

watchRalphcanterovertoShannonandnudgeherhandwithhisnose.

I went inside and kicked off my work clothes, threw on a clean outfit, and washed the smell of

horseshitoffmyhandsbeforeIwalkedbackouttothecar.

Shannonwasstillatthefence,armsfoldedonthetoprungwhenIapproached.Hersmilewassoft

asshewatchedLeerideRalphincirclesbutneverleavethepen.

“He’solderthantheothers,”shesaid.
“Almostsixteen.Anoldmaninhorseyears.”
Shesaidnothingthenbeforesheturnedtome.“You’renothinglikeIthoughtyou’dbe.”
“I’mexactlywhatyouthoughtI’dbe,”Isaid,warningher.
Iwastheplayboyshehadreadabout.Iusedwomen.IbentthemtomywillbeforeItossedthem

aside.Icouldn’tstandimmaturityonthefieldandhadnoproblemslettingarefknowwhenhe’dmade
ashittycall.Iwastheassholeshewasexpecting.

“Don’t let the horses fool you,” I said, dropping my voice. “I’m worse than anything you read

about.”

She smiled, reached up, and stroked my unshaven cheek. “Okay, Oliver. Ready to take me to

Beaux’s?”

No.Thatsofttouchstirredsomethinginsideofme.Itstretchedandglidedinsidemygut.Itwoke

uppartsofmeI’dlongsinceputtosleep.“Sure.”

Iwalkednexttoheraswemovedbacktomycar,myhandsatmysidesandnotholdingontoher.
Sheunsettledme.Sawthingssheshouldn’t.Knewthingsshecouldn’t.
DistancehelpedmeregainmybearingswhenweclimbedintothecarandIpulledout,takingback

countryroadswhereIcouldpushthemettleoftheAudiwithoutfearoftrafficorcops.

***

Thedrivebackintothecitywasmostlyquiet.Theradiovolumewasturneddownsowecouldtalk

overit,butwedidn’tsaymuch.

Nexttome,Shannoncurledastrandofhairaroundherfingerbeforelettingitpopback.Shedidit

repeatedly,herotherfingertappingalongtothemusiconthesideofherdoor.

Shewasfidgetyandnervous,andtherewasn’tmuchtosaytomakeherfeelbetter.Iwonderedif

shewasregrettingthenight,changinghermindaboutouragreement.

Thatshemightactuallydoitmademekeepquietformostofthedrive.Ididn’twanttohearher

saythatyes,sheregrettedit.No,shedidn’twanttoseemeagain.

Ihadn’thadrepeatsinmybedinyears,butthisgirl…shewasprovingherselfdifferentfromall

theothers.

Sofar,she’dchallengedme.She’dshockedthehelloutofme,andshe’dmademeshootmybrain

outthroughmydick.

She impressed me at every turn, which was what finally made me speak as she quietly gave me

directionstoBeaux’saswegotcloser.

“Wheredoyouwork?”Iasked,breakinganotherlongstretchofsilence.Ishouldn’thavecared.

YetIalreadyknewheranswerwasn’tgoingtobecheerleaderorassistantorwannabemodel/actress,
likemostofthewomenImet.

Shannon had a depth to her, a seriousness that hid her playful side. Somehow, I wanted to dig

through all of it and explore every side of her—the sweet and shy and easily embarrassed to the
dirtiestplacessheimagined.

“Stamped.It’saninternet-basedbusiness.”
“What?”
Herlipstwistedandherfingerwentbacktoherhair.Twist,pull,spring.
“Ihavemyownbusiness.It’snothingtooexciting.Imakemetaljewelry,stampingitintotheshape

Iwantit.Soit’scalledStamped.”

Myinterestwaspiquedalongwithmyirritation.Shehadtoleavemyhousebeforefuckingtogo

makejewelry?

“Youonlysellitonline?”
She hesitated a moment before answering. When she did, she turned to me and I saw a spark of

fear,maybeexcitement,beforeherhesitancytookover.“I’vedonethatforyears,butBeauxleaseda
buildingformeintheartsdistrict.SaidhewantedtohelpmydreamcometruelikeI’dalwaysdone
forhim.I’vespenttheweekcleaningthebuildingalongwiththeapartmentI’llmoveintoassoonasI
cangetmystufffromhome.”

Shefrownedandlookedoutthewindow.
“There’sastreetfaircomingupnextweekI’vebeengettingreadyfor.Ihavenoideahowbusyit

is, how many customers I could get, but I’ve barely slept while trying to get everything prepared.”
Shepointedtoacorner.“Turnhere.Hisplaceisthesecondontheleft.”

Iskippedtheturn,andsheshotmealook.“I’mjustdrivingaroundtheblocksoyoudon’thaveto

crossthestreetwhenIletyouout.”Iknewthesestreets.Therowofbrownstonesdidn’thaveparking
exceptinalleysbehindthem,andparallelparkingwasabitch.

“Oh.”Thatsweetblushhithercheeks.“Thankyou.”
Myfingerstwistedaroundthesteeringwheel.“Youcomingtothegamethisweek?”
Sheturnedtomethenandgrinned.“Iwouldn’tmissitforanything.”
ItwasthefirsttimeI’dseenherseemtrulyfreesinceI’dmether.Herprideinherbrotherseeped

outofeveryoneofherpores,almostmakinghershine.

Itmademefeellikeanassholeforbeingrudetoherabouthim.
Iquicklypulledaroundthecornerandplacedmyhandoverhersbeforeshecouldgetout.That

heatthatwasalwaysbetweenusgrewandinflamedinthecoolcar.

Iwrappedmyhandaroundthebackofherneckandpulledhertome,holdinghersteadyasmy

lipspressedagainsthers.Sheopenedformeimmediately,hertongueseekingmine,anditwasn’tjust
mekissingher…butherkissingmeback.Shewasn’tjusttakingit,allowingit…shewantedit.

IswallowedhersoftwhimperandpulledbackbeforeIhadtheoverwhelmingdesiretofuckherin

mycar.

HonestyspilledfrommebeforeIcouldstopit.Iblamedthesexy-as-hellkissandhersoft,pouty

lips.“Ihadagoodtimewithyou.”

Shelickedherlipsbeforeanswering.“Metoo.ButIshouldgo.”
Sheturnedtoopenthedoor,andsomethingaboutthemoment—herhesitanceinwantingmewhile

shemadeitobvious—hadmereachingouttoher,theonlywayIknewIcouldgetherattention.

“I’lltrytobelessofanassholetoBeaux.”
She grinned at me, looking over her shoulder as she opened her door. “I’ll tell him to throw

faster.”

“WhencanIseeyouagain?”AndwhydidIfeelsofuckingdesperateforit?
“Idon’tknow.”Shewinkedandslidoutofthecar,bendingovertofacemeonceshewasonthe

curb.“Callme.”

“Idon’thaveyournumber.”Ismirked,holdingoutmyhandtoaskforherphone.
Shesmiledatmyhandandthensentmeadeviouslook—oneIwantedtospankoffherbeforeI

fingeredhertothebrinkoforgasm.“Ithinkyoucanfigureoutawaytogetit.”

Sheshutthedoorthen,butIheardherlaughingasshewalkedaway.Whenshereachedthedoorto

Beaux’splace,shewavedatme,thesmilestillingrainedonhercheeks.

ShewasgoingtomakemeaskhimforitifIwantedit.
Shewasgoingtomakemeworkforher.
AsIpulledoutintothestreetaftershedisappearedinside,IrealizedthatIwasokaywithit.
Ihadn’thadtofightforanyoneIwantedinyears,andshe’dbeworthit.
Atleastforamonth.

***

“Don’tfuckherover,”BeauxwhisperedashehandedmeShannon’snumber.
Sweatstilldrippeddownmyback.Istillhadmypadson.Foronceitwasn’tBeauxmovingslowin

practice;ithadbeenallme.

Icouldn’tfindafucktogive.I’dbeenwaitingforthismomenttheentirepractice.Waitingforhim

tothreatenmeorpunchmeintheface.

I’ddeserveit,andI’dtakeit,once.
“Sheunderstandswherewe’reat,”Itoldhim.Ihopedlikehellshedid.
Hemadeagaggingsoundandhelduphishand.“Please.Fuckingspareme.Shetoldmethesame

thingearlier,andIalmostpukedalloverher.Idon’twanttoknowwhat’sgoingonbetweenthetwo
ofyou.Ijustdon’twantherheartbrokenagainlikeherfiancéjustdidtoher.”

“Understood.”Idid,too.Isortofwantedtobeattheassholeup,too.Ireachedforhisshoulderas

heturnedawayfromme,stoppinghimuntilhespunbackaround.

“Yeah?”
IswallowedthecriticismIwantedtogivehim.He’dplayedagreatday.I’dbeenoffmygame.He

wasstillmovingtooslow.“Goodpracticetoday.”

Hiseyesnarrowedandheputhishandsonhiships.“EvenifI’mtooslowinthepocket?”
Ipoppedmyjaw.Washeteasingme?IassumedShannonhadtoldhimwhatI’dsaid,buthadshe

made me seem like the asshole I probably was? I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to know if she’d
shownupathisplacethismorningrantingaboutme.

“You’llgetthere,”Ireplied.“Takesafewweeksandit’sanewteam.You’lladjust.”
His eyes narrowed further. “If you hadn’t just been with my sister last night I’d ask if you

somehowslippedyourdickintomagicalpussytomakeyounicetoday.”Heheldupahandagain.“I
don’twanttoknow.Honest.Sodon’ttellme.”

Hegrinnedthenandshookhishead,almostasdisbelievingasmethatwemightactuallybegetting

along.

“I’llupmygame,”heresponded.“Anythingelse?”
He seemed honest—sincere and open to anything I could say. We’d reached some detente. He

wasn’tgoingtobeajerkaboutmescrewinghissister.

IcouldtrustthatShannonwashonestabouthowmuchhewantedhisteamtobesuccessful.
“Yeah.” I grinned and stepped back, out of his punching range. Then I held up the paper with

Shannon’snumber.“Voodoopussy.Notmagical.Thanksforhelpingmegetmore.”

Helungedforme,butIjumpedback,straightintoRudolph.Webothtumbledtothefloor,around

ofshoutsandWhatthefucksechoinginmyearfromthesurpriseofourmovements.

IrolledtomybackandoffRudolphonlytogethiselbowinmyribs.Hale’sbodylandedonme

withathud.

ThemadnessofthelockerroomtookoverandsoonIwasonthebottomofafuckingdogpileof

men who had never outgrown their teenage years. We acted like assholes, pushed and punched and
shoveduntilIrealizedthatmyabsweren’thurtingsohardfromtheplayfulhitsandkicksI’dtaken
frommyteammates,butfromthefuckinglaughterthatwouldn’tstop.

ChapterNINE

SHANNON

Thecrowdaroundmerosetotheirfeetasweshoutedfortheamazingforty-yardpassBeauxhad

justmade.ItlandedsoftandperfectinOliver ’soutstretchedhands,whereherananothersevenyards
foratouchdowntomovetheRoughRidersahead.

Twenty-one to seventeen. The team was doing it. It was late in the third quarter, but I couldn’t

relax.Beauxhadplayedthefirstquarterandthenthefirststringhadtakenthebenchuntillateinthe
thirdquarter.IhadseenwhatOlivermeant:Beauxhesitatedinthepocketmorethannormal,likehe
hadn’tquitefoundhisrhythm.

I’d chewed off any nails—which had grown since summer training camp—during the first

quarter, but when he took the field again he looked more relaxed. More confident. More like the
BeauxHalepeoplewereusedtoseeing,andthecrowdateitup.

I stayed on my feet, cheering, and gave him a thumbs-up as he hurried off the field. I’d done it

sincehewasintheyouthleaguesinIowaandneverstopped.Itdidn’tmatterthatmostofthetimehe
couldn’tseeme.

He’dboughttheseseats.HeknewexactlywhereIwas.Iwasstillsurprisedwhenhetrottedoffthe

field,slappingOliveronthebackfortheleapingcatchhe’dhadtomake,andhiseyescamedirectly
tome.

Hehithishandtohischestandflashedapeacesigninmydirection.Mygrinexplodedasthefans

aroundmewhispered,“He’slookingrightatus.”

Fifteenrowsupfromthefifty-yardlinebehindtheRoughRider ’sbench,Ihadtheperfectpairof

seasontickets.

ItiltedmychintowardBeaux,inacknowledgment,andthenlookedatOliver.Hewasstillstanding

nexttoBeaux,theanimositybetweenthemeitherhavingdisappearedorbeenexpertlyhidden,whenI
sawhimlookingdirectlyatme.

Hishandswenttohischinstrapsandherippedthemoffbeforeyankingoffhishelmet.
Hiseyesmetmineandmybreathfaltered.Amidstthecrowdofcheeringfans,Istillknewhewas

looking directly at me. I hadn’t seen him since he’d dropped me off at Beaux’s earlier in the week,
althoughwe’dspoken.

Most recently it was this morning, when he’d called me only to whisper in his gravelly voice,

“Tonight,afterthegame,I’mgoingtodowickedthingstoyou.”

I’dbarelybeengiventimetoagreebeforehehungup,leavingmeonedgeandunfocusedforthe

restoftheday.

All those feelings magnified while he held his helmet in one hand. I saw him listening to the

offensivelinecoach,nodding.Henevertookhiseyesoffme.

Thecrowdcheeredagain,returningtotheirfeetwhenthespecialteamskickedtheextrapoint.
CoachMarksturnedfromOlivertotalktosomeoneelse,butthewholetimeOliver ’sgazestayed

fixedonmine—unyielding.Relentless.

Powerful.
It was as if he could see me quiver, my thighs heating and that burning desire I had for him

spreadingthroughmyveins.

A smirk twisted his lips. That arrogant, cocky smirk I wanted to kiss away to see the quiet and

confidentmanI’dseenonhisfarm.

Afuckingfarm.Helivedonone.Oronenoughlandtohaveafarm.Butthemysterioustightend

livedinthemiddleofnowhereandtookcareofhorses,whisperingtotheminsoft,quietmurmurs
whilewearingboardshortsandT-shirtsanddidn’tseemtocarewhatIthoughtofhim.

For some reason, he’d invited me into his personal space. He’d let me see who he really was,

givingmeverylittleinformation.

Ihadgleanedenough.
Hewasn’ttheguytheworldknewhimas.
Itmadeithardertokeepmyheartfromgettinginvolved,yetIwasstilldeterminedtodoso.
Ihadlessthanfourweekswithhim.Iwantedeverysecondtocount.
AllofthatconflictedwiththewaymyheartquickenedasOliversmiledatme,pressedhisfingers

tohislips,anddroppedhishandtohissidebeforeflashingmehissignaturewink.

Ilikedhim.Ididn’tknowhimwell,butitwasmorethanphysicalattractionthatswirledandbuilt

intoacombustiblemomentwheneverwewerearoundeachother.

It’dbeendays.
ItfeltlikemonthssinceI’dbeenwithhim,sinceI’dtouchedhim,sincehe’dbeendeepinsideme.
“Did you see that?” the woman behind me whispered to her friend. They’d gossiped about the

playerstheentiregame,theirdatesorhusbandsorpartnersontheothersideofthem,ignoringthem.

“Isawit.Helookedatus.Powelllookedatusandblewusakiss.”
Theotherwomanhuffed.
Iresistedtheurgetoturnaroundandcheckthemout.
Theyhadn’tbeenfocusedonthegameforasinglesecond,buthadbeenwhisperingaboutthemen

intheirtightpantsandwhatthey’ddototheplayersifgiventhechance.Iassumedthementheywere
withwouldbegettingtherideoftheirliveslater,thewomenlivingoutwicked,dirtyfantasiesintheir
beds,orthemenwouldbelefthighanddrywhilethewomensearchedouttheplayers.

Ihadgreatseats—seatswhereIdidn’tmindwatchingthegamealone.Mostofthepeoplearound

mewerepeopleI’dbeseeingallseason.Noonesaidanythingabouttheemptyseatnexttome,but
those questions would come. Eventually they always did. Why Beaux bothered to buy me two seats
when he knew I’d rarely bring anyone other than Melissa to the games was beyond me, but I never
argued.

Fortherestofthegame,Icheeredwhenwehadgreatplays,jumpedtomyfeetandstayedthere

whentherewereforty-fivesecondsleftandthekickerlinedupafieldgoaltosealthewin.

Whenitwasdoneandthey’dwon,Ipushedthroughthecrowd,headedtowardthebackhallways

whereonlyfamilyhadaccess,andwaitedforBeaux,andOliver,tomaketheirappearancefromthe
lockerroom.

The hallway was packed with media and sportscasters. Cameramen lined up outside the locker

room.Frominside,thechantsandcheersofthevictoriousteamreverberatedthroughthehallwaylike
adullroar.

“You’renew.Youfamilyorgirlfriend?”
Iturnedtowardthefemalevoiceandsmiled,holdingoutmyhand.“ShannonHale,Beaux’solder

sister.”

Her face lit up with recognition. “Oh! We didn’t get a chance to meet the other day. I’m Jillian

Rudolph,Danny’swife.”

“Nice to meet you.” I’d met Rudolph at the party. He’d pointed his wife out to me from the

distance,andupcloseshelookedjustasprettyasshehadinawhite,one-pieceswimsuitwithcutouts
just above her hips. Rudolph was a defensive end player, large and strong and had a great game
earningonesack.“Heplayedgreattonight.”

“He’llplaybetterlater,”shesaid,wigglinghereyebrows.“IbetOliverwill,too.”
Ijerkedback,andshelaughedatmysurprise.
“They’regoodfriends.Trustme,thereisn’tathingOliverdoesthatDannydoesn’tknowabout.

AndI’vebeenhearingaboutyouallweeklong.”

“Um.”Nervessuffusedmyveinsandspeechwasdifficult.Thiswasforfun,sure,buthe’dtalked

aboutme?“We,um…justmetandwe’refriends.”

Sherolledhereyesplayfully.“It’sokay.Usgirlsneedtosticktogether.Didyouwatchthegame

fromabox?”

“No.Fifty-yardline.Beaux’salwaysgottenmeticketsthere.”
“Oh. Those are wonderful! Danny always gets the seats for me in the box with other player ’s

wives.”Sheleanedinandloweredhervoice.“Butbetweenyouandme,it’shardtowatchthegame
fromthere.”

“Youcanalwaysjoinme,”Isaid,mymouthmovingbeforeIcouldstopmyself.“Beauxgetsme

two,butIwatchthegamealone.”

“That’dbegreat!AndyouandOlivershouldcomefordinnersomenight.Orjustus.Girls’nights

are more fun anyway, you know?” She nudged my side and it took me a moment to regain my
bearings.

IwasusedtowomenusingmetogetclosetoBeaux.Iwasn’tusedtowomenseeminglybeingso

openandhonest.ButasmygazeroamedoverJillian,herkindnessandfriendlysmilemadeiteasyto
trusther.BlondhairpulledbackintoaponytailwithRudolph’sjersey,skinnyjeansandfaded,well-
worn gray Chucks on her feet, she lacked the pretentiousness so many athletes’ wives seeped from
theirpores.

“I’d like that,” I found myself saying. “The game, at least. Oliver and I…we’re just…” Heat

bloomedonmychestasItriedtofindthewords.“Havingfun.Friends.”

“Right.”Shewinked.“Ofcourseyouare.”
Thedoorsburstopenthen.Lightsflashedandmediapersonnelshoutedtheirquestionstoplayers

as they began exiting the locker room. All wet-headed and dressed in suits, you could tell they’d
celebratedandshoweredquicklybeforeleaving.

Beauxcameoutearlyandwasinstantlysurroundedbythereporters.Istayedback,nexttoJillian.

Beaux twisted around his Rough Riders baseball hat so the team’s logo was in front and began
answeringquestions.

Hiseyesmetmineandhesmiled.Iheldhisgaze,silentlyencouraginghimandlettingmypride

forhimshinethroughuntiladifferentcurrenthitme.

Oliverexitedthelockerroom,hatpulledloweroverhiseyes,coveringhisdirtyblondhair.His

headdippedandhethankedthereportersclamoringforhisattention,butheseemedtopaythemno
mindwhilehepushedpastthesmall,congregatedcrowdbeforemakinghiswaytome.

“Yeah. If you two are just having fun, I’ll eat my husband’s hat.” Jillian nudged me again,

playfully.

Ididn’tturntolookather,butmylipsliftedintoasmile.

WhetheritwasbecauseIlikedherandfoundherfunnyorbecauseOliverdidn’tstopmovinguntil

hewasdirectlyinfrontofme,Ididn’tknow.

“Readytogetoutofhere?”heasked,hisvoiceroughandthick.
IwassureIanswered.
CertainItriedto.
Itfeltlikeahandfulofcottonballswerelodgedinmythroatasmymouthopenedandclosed.
Hishandgrippedmineandhetuggedmetowardhimandwhispered,“ItoldBeauxwherewe’dbe.

Hesaidhe’llseeyouinthemorning.”

IcaughtBeaux’sgaze,hiseyestighteningashesawmeleaving,andthenIwaspulledthroughthe

mazeofhallways,unabletogathermythoughtswhileOliverguidedmetowardhiscar.

***

“Youguyshadagreatgame,”Isaidonceweweresettledintohiscar.
We’dmadeabriefstopatBeaux’scar,whereI’dleftanovernightbagearlier,andthenastrange

silence had permeated the fancy vehicle while Oliver guided us out of the underground parking
garageforplayersandseasonticketholdersandontothepackedstreetsofdowntownRaleigh.

Hishandsflexedonthewheel.
“Youdon’tthinkso?”Iaskedwhenhedidn’tanswer.
“Ineverthinkweplayasgreatasweshould.”
Itdidn’tsurpriseme.Oliverwasintenseandfocusedoffthefieldjustasmuchashewasonit.
“Itwasstillagreattouchdownyoumadeinthethird.”
His lips went from a pressed line to a hint of a smile. Shaking his head, he looked at me. His

expressionsoftenedabit.“Youlovethegame.”

“Well,yeah,itwaseitherfindawaytoloveitgrowinguporhateallthehoursIspentatthefields

anddrivingBeauxaround.Icouldhaveeitherbecomebitterandjealousofhissuccessorbeenapart
ofit.Ichosethelatter.”

“Yeah,butyoustilldidn’thavetolikethegame.Youcouldhavesupportedhimwithoutit.”
Igrinnedthen.“It’smorefunthisway.”
Hefellsilentafterthat,seeminglylostinhisthoughts.
After several blocks where he seemed to be twisting his car around the streets of downtown

insteadofheadingouttohisplace,whenhespokeagain,hesurprisedme.

“Ihavetoadmit—thatcatchwasawesome.”
“Soft fingers,” I whispered. “It was incredible to watch. Everyone around me went insane when

youhurdledthedefender.”

Hepulleduptoabuildingandshovedthegearshiftintopark.Weidledatthecurb,andIlookedat

wherehe’dstoppedus.Ahotel.

Disappointmentuncurledinmystomach.
Iclosedmyeyesandletasoftbreathfallfrommylips.
“Trustme,”hesaid,reachingouttoopenhisdoor.“WhenIgetyoutomyroom,myfingerswill

beanythingbutsoft.”

Thedesirethatwastherebeforesparked,butfizzledquicklyasIrealizedwhatweweredoing.
WhatIwasdoingwithhim.
Ahotel.Aone-nightstand.

WasIreallypreparedforallofthis?Forthewhispersandthegossipsandbeingtreatedlikehis

latestfling?

Ihadneverbeenonetolivesorecklessly.
Yethadn’tIearnedit?Didn’tIdeserveamonthofhotsexandfunandnostringsandeverything

elsesinglepeopleexperiencedallthroughtheirtwenties?

Itwasthatrealizationthatmademeforcedownmydisappointmentandtheincreasinguneaseas

mydoorwasopened.

“Goodevening,Mr.Powell.Goodgameearlier.”
“Thankyou,Frank,”Oliversaid,liftinghishandtowardmeashestoodnexttothebellhopwho

hadopenedmydoor.

Frank was old, his hands speckled with liver spots, leathered skin telling me that when he was

youngerhespenttoomuchtimeinthesunandusedtoolittlesunscreen.Hiseyesmetminewithakind
smile.“Goodevening,miss.”

“Shannon,”Oliversaid,pullingmeoutofthecar.He’dalreadygrabbedmyovernightbagandit

wasthrownoverhisshoulder.“She’llbeherefrequently.”

AglimmerofexcitementhitOliver ’seyesashemadehisintentclear.
“Very well, sir,” Frank said and closed the door behind me. He took the keys from Oliver and

grippedtheminhispalm.“Straighttothegaragetonight?”

“Youhaveabreakcomingup?”
“AlwaysplanonitwhenIknowyou’recoming.”
“Thentakeitforaspin,butbekindtoher.”
“Willdo,sir.”
Oliverrolledhiseyes.“CallmeOliver,fortheloveofGod,Frank.”
Frank winked at me before shaking his head. “Can’t cross all the lines with my job. You know

that.”

Oliversmiledathim—thefirstgenuinesmileI’dseenonhimallnight.Ihadwatchedtheentire

conversationslack-jawed.Whenheslidthatgrininmydirection,mymouthsnappedclosed.

“Justdon’tcrashher.”
“Never do,” Frank said as he opened the driver ’s door and slid inside. He peeled out onto the

streetsofastIwonderedifhe’dlookedfortrafficfirst.

Asthelightsdisappearedaroundthefirstcornerandthesoundofscreechingtiresevaporated,the

smellofburnedrubberremained.

“Comeon.”Olivertuggedonmyhand,andIstumbledonmyfeet,tryingtocatchuptohim.
I’d assumed he’d brought me to the hotel for a random hookup, treating me like any random

woman he’d picked up off the streets. His conversation and obvious affection for Frank told me
somethingdifferentwashappening.

Wedidn’tstopaswewalkedthroughthelobby.Olivermovedquicklyandwithpurpose,andwhen

wereachedthebankofsixelevators,hepulledmetowardthefarthestoneandslidakeythrougha
readerbeforepressingthebutton.

Thedooropenedimmediatelyandwesteppedinside,mymindstillwhirlingwiththequicknessof

howeverythinghadhappened.Hadhecheckedintotheroomearlier?

“Frank’sbeenthedoormanatthisplaceforalmosttwentyyears.Losthiswifetocancershortly

afterImethim.FromwhatI’vebeenabletofigureoutabouthim,hedoesn’thavemuchinhislife,so
whenIstayherehedrivesmycarforafewminutesbeforeparkingitinthevalet.”

Itwasareallylongexplanationthatdidn’tansweranyofmyquestions.Like,whatmadeOliver

beginspeakingtohiminthefirstplace?Howdidhetakethetimetolearnallofthat,andwhathad
happenedthatmadethemseemsoclose?

Itallcontradictedhisassurancesofbeinganasshole.
IstaredatOliverthroughthemirroredreflectionoftheelevatordoor,toonervoustofacehim,

tooscaredofwhathe’dseeonmyface.Yetaseverythingbeganclickingintoplace,Icouldn’tstop
thesmile.

“Asshole,”Iteased.“Right.You’resuchaprick.”
His eyes widened and he stepped in front of me, pushing me to the back of the elevator without

touchingme.

HisstrengthandhissizemadehimimmoveableinfrontofmeandIcouldn’tseearoundhimto

seethelookofsurpriseIknewwasonmyface.

“HaveItoldyoutonighthowsexyyoulookinmyteam’sjersey?”
IwasinjeansandsandalsandanoversizedjerseywithBeaux’snumberonit.Myhairwaspulled

backsothewildcurlsstayedoutofmyfaceduringthegame.

TherewasnothingsexyabouthowIwasdressed,yetwhenOliverbegantrailingafingeralong

thelengthofmyjaw,IfeltlikeIwasinaballgown.

“Youmighthaveforgottenthatpart.”
Heleanedforward.Hishandonmyjawtightenedandheldmeinplace.“Forgiveme.”
Hislipspressedtomine,stealingmybreath,andIclungtohimimmediately.It’dbeendays.My

bodyachedforhimimmediately.

He held me against the wall with the frame of his body, and the kiss changed from soft and

seeking until he devoured me. His tongue slid along the seam of my mouth and pushed through
before I could receive him, but I met him then, kissing him back and raising my hands to his
shoulderssoIcouldgetcloser.Deeper.

Athudsoundedonthefloorandthenhishandwasatmywaist,pullingmetowardhim,ripping

myshirtfrommywaistbanduntilhishandwaspressingagainstthesmallofmyback.

Thechimeofthedoorandthesuddenstopoftheelevatormadehimjumpandweseparated,both

of us breathless, his dark hazel eyes more tawny than green. Mine were just as wild as he looked
downatme,hisgazetracingeveryfeatureinmyface.

“Whenwegetinsidemyplace,we’regoingstraighttomyroomwhereI’mgoingtospreadyou

outallovermybed,tasteeveryinchofyourskin,andeatyouuntilyou’rescreamingmynameand
beggingformore.”

Mymouthwentdryandwetnessseepedintomypanties.Everythinghesaiddidthattome.Hehad

a way of looking at me like I was the only woman he’d ever seen. Like stripping me naked and
makingmebareforhimwashishighestpriority.

“Yousaysuchfilthythings,”Iwhisperedashebenttograbthebaghe’ddroppedearlier.
“Youfuckinglikeit.”
Idid.Ididn’targuewithhimaboutit.IwantedsexwithhimandhisfilthywordsmorethanIcared

toadmit.EvenwhenmysexlifewithPatrickhadbeenatthepinnacle,wewerealwaysmoreofaone-
and-donecouplewhenitcametosexandorgasms.

Multiplesinonenighthadbeenrare.
WithOliver,Iknewtheoppositewithhimwouldholdtrue.Hewasn’tthekindofmantostopuntil

he’dgotteneverythinghewanted.Luckymethatheseemedtowantme.

Attheveryleast,hewantedmybody.Myheartcouldtakeit.Ihadgoneintothiseyeswideopen,

understandingeverythingthatwashappeningbetweenus.

So I would take my screaming orgasms whether they happened in a hotel or a house, and

hopefullyI’dbeabletodeliversomeofmyowntohim.

ChapterTEN

OLIVER

Herhandinmine,myhandonherskin,thebuzzingofthedoorbehindus,Iwasonlythinkingone

thing.

BringinghertothehotelroomIkeptduringtheseasonwasasbigofamistakeastakingherto

myhome.Whenthiswasover,Iwasn’tgoingtobeabletogoanywheretoescapethememoryofher
flushedcheeks,wildhair,andherbodysplayedoutwhereverandhoweverIwanted.

“Youwantthat?”Iasked,whenshedidn’tanswermethefirsttime.Ipulledheroutoftheelevator,

walkingbackwardsowestayedpressedtogether.Fuck.Icouldn’tgetenoughofher.Seeingheratthe
game,cheeringonherfeet,hersmilewideandunrestrainedwhenIscoredatouchdownhadtwisted
somethinginsideme.

TheonlythingIdidn’tlikewasthatshe’ddoneallofthatwithBeaux’snumberplasteredtoher

generousbreastsinsteadofmine.

“Youwantmeeatingyou,suckingandlickingyourpussyuntilyoucome,overandoveragain?

Untilyou’resosoreyouthinkyoucan’ttakeanymore?”

Shenoddedfrantically,unabletohideherlustforme,andfuckifitwasn’tperfection.Shehadno

motives.Nohiddenagenda.Shewantedmydickandmybody,andIdidn’tgiveoneshitifIwasusing
her.

Shewasusingme,too.
“Yes.Yes,Iwantthat.”
Idroppedmyhandfromherbackonlylongenoughtodigmykeycardoutofmypocketandslide

itthroughthedoor.TherewereonlytworoomsonthisfloorandIknewtheotherowner.

A country singer whose visits to The Mayfield Tower were as sporadic as mine. We’d actually

gottendrunktogetheronenightinthebardownstairsandthen,likejackasses,autographedournames
ontoeachother ’sskinwithpermanentmarker.

My team had just lost the AFC Championship game earlier that night and Bethany had been

plasteredalloverthegossipragsforscrewinganothercountrysinger—amarriedone.Shesworeshe
hadthoughttheywerealreadydivorced.Thefactthattheywerelegallyseparatednevermadeitinto
thepapersorthegossipcolumns,soBethanyandIhadbondedoverfailednightsandshittydecisions.

ShebecameafriendafterthatandIknewshewasontour,currentlyplayinginarenasalloverthe

westernpartofthecountry.

Foronce,Iwasthankfulshewasn’taroundtoseemyone-nightstandleavinginthemorningand

thatshecouldn’tpossiblyhearusthroughthewalls.

“Soyouhaveboth,”Shannonsaidaswesteppedinsideandthedoorshutbehindus.
“What?”Ishotheraquizzicallook.
She waved her hand out to the large living room. The suite wasn’t overly large or ostentatious.

Twobedroomswithking-sizedbeds.Apassablelivingspaceandasmallkitchen.Ididn’tneedlarge
andmassive.IneededaplacetofuckandcrashonthenightsIdidn’twanttodrivebacktomyhome

late at night, or when we had to get up early to leave for a game and I didn’t want to get stuck in
morningtraffic.

It worked, and besides clothes, there wasn’t a personal effect around. At first I had thought this

wouldmakeitabetterplacetobringShannon.Hercuriosityknewnobounds.Iwasquicklylearning
that she didn’t need photographs and decorations to figure out who I was, or who I used to be. She
sawenoughasitwas.

“IaskedyouatKolby’sifyouhadahomeoracrashpad.Youhaveboth.”
“Right.Ikeepthisplaceduringtheseason.It’seasiertogettothefields.”
“Andtofuckfacelesswomen.”
Yeah, she saw too damn much. Unfortunately, I was also quickly learning that she’d never be

faceless.Herfaceandthememoryofherwouldlingerinthisdamnplaceandinmyhomelongafter
thescentofherwasgone.

“Youneedsomethingtodrink?”Idroppedherbagandheadedtothekitchenareathatwouldbe

stockedwithdrinksandfoodforme.Ididn’tcookwhenIstayedthere,butImadesureIhadother
foodtoeatandproteindrinks.

Afteragameliketonight’s,Iusuallydownedafewofthem.
Myheadwasn’tthinkingaboutnutritionatthemoment,butonchangingthefuckingsubject.
“I’mnotoffended,”shesaid,followingme.“Iwasjustcurious.”
“Don’tbe,”Iclipped,harsherthanIintended.Isawthelookofpainflashinhereyes.Butit’ddo

hergood.Ifshewantedtowalkaway,it’dprobablybebetterforbothofus.

Isureashellwasn’tgoingtobetheonetodoit.
“You’reawfullytemperamentalforsomeonewho’smadeitclearwhatthey’relookingfor.”
Stunnedfromherflippantremark,Istoodfrozenwhileshewalkedaroundmeandhelpedherself

to a bottle of water from the small fridge. I took in the curve of her ass, the way the stupid-ass
rhinestonesonthepocketswerelikeahomingbeaconformyeyes.

“Getoverhere,Shannon.”
Myvoicedeepened.Myhandsballedintofists.Shehadtoomanyclothesonandtoomuchsassin

her.Iplannedonfuckingitalloutofher.

She shut the fridge and turned to me, twisting the top off the water bottle and taking a long sip.

Nervousness flashed in her chocolaty eyes before she could hide it. “Are you going to be nice to
me?”

“No.”Ishookmyhead,lettingmyintentionbeclearintheslowmovementandthedrawlofmy

voice.“Iplanonbeingvery,veryfilthywithyou.I’malsocertainIjusttoldyoutodosomething.”

Thebottleshookinhertightgripasshesetitofftotheside.
She made her way to me, three long, slow strides. Fuck if she didn’t know what she was doing.

Listening,butdisobeyingatthesametime.

Iknewhergame.She’dgivemewhatIwanted,butit’dbeinherowntime,herownway.
I pressed my hand against my hardening cock as she closed the space between us, her eyes

gleamingwithpureintentandunabashedlust.

Fuckifshewasn’tbeautiful.I’dthoughtitthefirsttimeIsawherinthestandsatthetrainingcamp.

She didn’t know that. I wasn’t planning on telling her how much the fact that she’d been there—
cheeringforeveryonebutseparatedfromthelargecrowdoffans—hadturnedmeonfromhalfway
acrossthefield.

Shegaveeverythingherallwhileholdingherselfback,adichotomyIwantedtounderstandmore

thanIshould.

“NowthatI’mhere?”sheasked,herhandsheldlooselyathersidesasshetiltedherhead.“What

areyougoingtodowithme?”

“Takeoffthejersey.”SomedayI’dfuckherwhilesheworenothingbutmine.Mynumberwould

beonthefabricabradinghernippleswhileIslammedintoher.ThelastthingIwantedwhenIdirtied
herupwasherbrotheranywhereintheroom.

Her hands went to the hem and she crossed her arms before pulling it over her head in slow…

fucking…motion.

Ipusheddowntheurgetosmackherass.People,womenespecially,didn’tplaygameswithme.

TheybenttomywillassoonasIcrookedmyfingers.Someoneelsedrawingoutanticipationwasn’t
somethingIwasaccustomedto.

Ididn’thateitasmuchasIthoughtIwould.
I licked my lips as her hair bounced and flopped from the movement of the shirt being ripped

overherhead.Itrailedmyeyesoverherbeautifulskin.Thecurveofhersides,thesoftindentations
aroundherabsthattoldmesheworkedoutbutdidn’tkillherselfdoingit.

“Takeyourhairdown.”
“Areyougoingtotouchmeormakemedoallthework?”Sheteasedwhileherhandswenttoher

hair. She tugged and pulled and untwisted a band in her hair until she dropped it to the floor along
withherjersey.

Herhairtumbledandfellallovertheplaceandherhandswenttosmoothoutthewildwaves.
“Don’t.You’refuckingsexyashellwhenyourhairisuntamed.”
“It’samess.”Theblushburnedhercheeksanditwasthefirsttimesinceshe’dbegunherseductive

dancethattherewashesitancyinthem.

Ireachedoutandtrailedmyhandthroughherhair,tanglingmyfingersinitbeforeIyankedher

againstmybodyandlookeddownather.

“IfIdidn’tthinkyouweresodamnsexy,youwouldn’tbehere.IknowwhatIwantandit’syou,as

messedupanddirtiedasIcanpossiblymakeyou.”

Herpulsekickedup,ajumpofbloodbeatingfasterinaveinbehindherear.Mythumbbrushedit

beforeIsteppedbackandremovedmyownshirt.

“Yourbra,”Isaid,whenshestoodfrozen,staringatmychest.Iflexedmymusclesandmadeher

eyesjumptomine.“Takeitoff.”

“Yourpants,”shebravelyorderedasherhandswenttothebackofherbra.Iheardtheclickofthe

satinyfabricunsnapbeforeshewinkedatme.“Takethemoff.”

Myhandswenttomyhips.“Idon’tthinkyouunderstandwho’sinchargehere.”
Butdamnifbeingonthereceivingendwasn’tsexyashell.
“I’mnotsomeonewhositsonthesidelinesandblindlyfollowsorders.”
We’dseeaboutthat.SomedayI’dhaveherblindfoldedandfollowingordersandshe’dloveit.
MyhandwenttothezipperofmydresspantsandIdroppedthemsotheypooledatmyfeetbefore

Ikickedoffmyshoesandsocks.

Myboxerswerenext.TheyfelltothefloorandIwrappedmyhandaroundmycock,keepingmy

eyesonheruntilshefollowedmymovement.

“Getnakedandgetoverhere,”Isaid,walkingtothecounter.Ididn’ttakemyeyesoffherwhile

herfingersfumbledatthebuttonofherjeansandthenherzipper.

“Beautiful,”Imurmured,thepraisefallingunbiddenfrommylips.Withcurvesandtitsandlegs

fordays,Ididn’tknowwheretostartwithher.

Idroppedmyhandfrommydickandgrippedherhips,liftingherandplacingherattheedgeof

the counter. She was so short that fucking her from behind hadn’t been easy. At this height, I could
slidemydickstraightintoher.

“Spreadyourlegsandplaceyourpalmsonthecounterbehindyou.”
“Oliver,”shewhispered,hervoicehusky.“I’malreadywetforyou.”
“Iknow.”Ismirked.“AndIwanttoseeit,watchyouplaywithyourselfbeforeIfuckyouandeat

youanddoallthethingstoyouI’vealreadypromised.”

Anotherdozenideasflashedthroughmymindassheslidherlegsfurtherapart.Herwetness,her

desireforme,slickenedtheinsidesofherthighsandmadeherpussypinkandglistening.

Fuck,shewasbeautiful.Iwantedmycomealloverher.Hertits,herass,herstomach.Iwantedto

markher.Claimher.

She’stemporary.
Mylipcurledattheloudremindershoutingatme,butmydickwasinchargealloveragain.
“Wider,”Idemandedandbegantuggingonmydicksoshecouldseewhatshewasdoingtome.

“Slideyourfingersthroughyourpussy.”

Hermusclestightenedatmycommand.Littlebreathlesspantsfellfromherlips.Herchestheaved,

makingherbreastsshakewiththemovement.Everytimetheydid,Iwantedtowrapmylipsaround
thehardened,darkenednipplesuntilmymouthwasfullofher.

“Helpme,”shewhispered,adjustingherselfonthecounterbutstilllistening.“Iwantyoutohelp

me.”

“Helpyoucome?”
Ireceivedanimmediatenod.
“Nofuckingway.Thisfirsttimeyou’redoingityourself,showingmewhatyoulikeandwhatyou

want.Showmewhatyoudidtoyourselfthisweekwhenyouwerealoneinbed,nakedandthinkingof
me.”

Myeyesmetherswhensheinhaledagasp.
Dirty,dirtygirl.God,Ilovedthat.Thelookshegavememademycockhardenevenmore.
“Youdid,didn’tyou?Youslidyourfingersdeepinsideyourpussy,onlytobefrustrateditwasn’t

mycockinsideyou.”

“Shit.” She gasped as her fingers began sliding around her clit. Her fingernails were painted a

lightpink,lighterthanherflesh.Thesoundsofherwetsexfilledtheroom,magnifiedbyherquick
breaths.

“Yes,”shewhispered,herhipsbuckingintoherhand.“Ithoughtofyou.”
ItwasallIwantedtohear,neededtohearitmorethanIunderstood.
Isteppedforwardandcontinuedrunningmyhanddownmylongandheavyandhotshaft.Myhead

brushedagainstherclitassheteasedherself.Icouldn’twaittobeinsideher,butIwantedtodriveher
crazyfirst.

Myballswerealreadypulledtight,myspineheatedasherfingerscontinuedpressingagainsther

flesh, her clit, slow circles then fast as she widened her legs and her inner thigh muscles began to
tremble.

“Doit,” I whispered,not taking myeyes off her quiveringpussy. “Fuck yourselfand let me see

youcome.”

“OhGod,”shewhimpered.
Ipressedagainstherthighwithonehandtoholdhersteady.Sherubbedmore,teasedmore,slid

herfingersinsideandaroundherlipsuntilherfingersshonefromherownwetness.

“Oliver.”Herhipspressedandrolled.“Soclose.”

Iteasedherwiththeheadofmycock,gettingitwetfromherownministrations.
Andthensheshatteredbeneathme.Everypartofhertightenedandbuckedwithabandon.Shefell

back,andIleanedforwarduntilIcouldtasteherpussy.ThenIateher.

HerhandwenttomyhairasIstrungoutherorgasm,pulleditfromdeepinsideherasmyteeth

andtonguetookover.

Sheslidagainstmymouth,wetandslick,anditonlymademekeepgoingwhileshechantedfor

metostop.

“Nomore.Please.Toomuch.OhGod.”
Everythingrepeated,dulledbytheroarinmyownearsatthewaythiswomanwentfuckingwild.
“OhGod,goingtocome.Again.Oliver.”HerfingernailsdugintomyscalpandIflinchedfrom

thepain,usedittopressdeeper.MyhandswenttoherthighsasIstretchedheropenaswideasshe
couldget.

I buried my tongue in her, lapped her juice, and licked everything I could devour. My tongue

fuckedher,mirroringthemovementsmycockwouldbedoingtohersoon.

“Oliver!”
ShescreamedmynamelikeI’dwantedherto.Ididn’tstop.Ifuckingcouldn’t.Iwasgoingcrazy

with the taste of her and the way she seemed to not stop coming all over me. I stood up some,
grabbingherassinmyhands,andcontinuedlickinguntilhershakesbegantosubside.

Shethrewanarmoverhereyesandshivered.“Holyshit,”shemurmuredoverandoveragainasI

gentlysetherlegsdown.

I chuckled. Fuck. She was wilder and crazier than I’d thought she’d be, and every time she was

morefantasticthanthelast.Myhandranupherstomach,throughthecenterofherchestuntilitsettled
atthesideofherthroat.Herpulseandheartbeatpoundedagainstherheatedskin.

“Youokay?”
Sheshookherheadbackandforth.“Dying.”
“Comeon.”IpulledhersoshewassittingandthenIpickedherup,laughingagainstherwhenshe

couldbarelywrapherlegsaroundmywaist.“You’llhavetorecoverquick,”IsaidasIcarriedher
downtheshorthalltotheless-than-impressivebedroom.“Ihaven’tevenfuckedyouyet.”

ChapterELEVEN

SHANNON

I stretched when I woke, feeling the dull ache in my thighs as I stretched out my legs. It took a

moment to remember where I was. The plush cover pulled up to my chin and the softest pillow
beneathmycheekhelpedmerememberassoonasIopenedmyeyes.

Asmylegsmoved,myfootbrushedagainstOliver ’slegsbehindmeandIrolledover.
Hewasstillasleep,lyingonhisbackwithonehandthrownoverhiseyestoblockoutthesunlight

fromtheblindshehadn’tshutthenightbefore.

Notthatthere’dbeentime.He’ddoneeverythingtomehepromisedhewould,ravagedmeuntilI

waslistless.HewrungsomanyorgasmsfrommethatIlostcount.MyabshurtwhenIpushedmyself
uptoanelbowtogetabetterlookathim.

ThelasttimeI’dspentthenightwithhim,he’dwokenandleftthehousebeforeIwasawake,soI

hadn’tgottentoseehimlikethis.

Hesleptwithhislipsslightlyparted;thedarkblondstubbleonhischeekswasshortbutthickand

coarse. When he’d scratched his face against my thighs the night before, multiple times, seemingly
unabletogetenoughofmeinhismouth,thathairhaddonewickedthingstomysenses.

OliverPowelldidn’tgodownonmelikeitwasajoboraduty,butlikeitwashisdestinytobe

betweenmythighs.

I took in the long lines of his body hidden beneath the thin white sheet and smiled as my gaze

trailedhislength.Onelegwasstraight,theotherbenttothesideandexposed.Onearmwassetacross
his abdomen, almost cupping his morning erection tenting the sheets, covering what was quickly
becomingmymostfavoritepartofhim.

Not that his body wasn’t firm and defined and tanned and absolutely perfect, but the things he

coulddowithhiscockwouldgivemememoriestomasturbatetofortherestofmylife.

“Ifyou’regoingtokeepstaringatmydick,youmightaswellgetacloserlook.”Hedroppedhis

handfromhiseyesandturnedtomewiththatsurly,bossysmirkofhis.Hiseyeswereopenintoslits,
almostchallengingme.

Morning sex had never been a thing for me. There was the smell of sleep clinging to skin and

morningbreathinmouths.Asdeliciousasthethoughtwas,towakeupandsuckhimhardanddeep
intomymouth,mylipstwisted.

“Thethoughtdisgustsyou?AfterlastnightIdidn’tthinktherewasanythingyouwouldn’tdo.”
Hisstatementwasachallenge,adare,butnotquitethecommandthatturnedmeonsomuch.
I gave him honesty, because this would never work between us if we began hiding things.

“Morningsexdoesn’tdoitforme.Sortofgrossesmeout.”

“OhGod,”hegroanedandrolledtohissidetofaceme.Hegrinnedashishandswenttomyhair

—always tangling in my curls like he couldn’t be close and not touch me. A shiver of awareness
rolleddownmyspine.“Don’ttellmeyou’reoneofthosewomenwhocaresaboutmorningbreath
andshit.”

ThefaceImusthavemadewasmyanswer.
Herolledhiseyesandthenpushedhimselftositting,groaningashemoved.
Iwassorefromsex,butthebruisesformingonhissidestoldmethegroanwasoneofpain.
“Youokay?”Iaskedandsatup,followinghim.
Hedroppedhisheadtohishandsandletoutanotherpainedgrunt.
IreachedforhimbeforeIcouldstopmyself,draggingonefingernaildowntheridgedbumpsof

hisspine,carefultoavoidthebruising.“Youdidn’tgetmuchtimetorestyourbodylastnight.”

Heglaredatmeoverhisshoulder,eyesdarkeningwithmemoriesofwhatwe’ddone,whathe’d

done to me. “It was worth it. Today’s practice is no pads and only a few hours. I’ll be fine by
Monday.”

“Doyouneedanymeds?Icangetyousome.”
Hescowled.“I’mnotBeaux.Don’tactlikeyouhavetotakecareofme,Shannon.”
Iheldupmyhandsandpulledback.“Grouchybeforeyourmorningshake?”
I tried to make light of the moment, but his comment stung. The look of remorse he gave me

beforeheslidoutofbedhelped.

“No. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sore as fuck, though.” He wiped a hand across his mouth and his

shouldersfellwhenhefacedme,bothofusonoppositesidesofthebed,thespacebetweenuslarger
thanthemonstrousbed.“I’mnotusedtosomeonewantingtotakecareofmeorbeingworriedabout
me.”

Ilookedatthefloorformyclothesandmybag.Iunderstood.Istillhadtheurgetoflee.
“Goshowerandgetcleanedup,”hesuggested,hisvoicewarmer.“I’llgogetyourbag.Dropped

itbythefrontdoorlastnightandyoudrovemesofuckingcrazyIforgotaboutit.”

Iarchedabrow.“Idroveyoucrazy?”
“Yes.Themeresightofyoudrivesmefuckinginsane.Notusedtothateither.Goshower.”
Theadmissionseemedtosurprisehimmorethanitdidme.Hewasoutthedooroftheroomlike

abatoutofhellwhenIrealizedIwasstillstandinginthebedroomstaringathisbeautifulretreating
form.Bothofuswereindeeperthanweimagined.

Ishookitoff.
Icoulddwellonhisrudenessoraccepthimashewas.Beauxwasn’tthenicestguyinthemorning,

especiallyaftergamedays,either—winorlose.TheirbodiestookapoundingandsometimesBeaux
toldmethatfuckedwiththeirheads,madethemfeelweakerthantheythoughttheyshouldbe.

I tried to shake it off, tried not to take the comment personally as I turned on the water in the

shower.IusedtherestroomwhileIwaitedforthewatertoheatbeforeIclimbedin,stillnakedfrom
howI’dfallenasleep.

WatersluiceddownmybodyandIslidmyhandsalongmyarmsandstomach,waitingforOliver

toreturnwithmybagthatcontainedmyshampooandhair-tamingcrème.I’dneedmorethanhotel
shampooandconditionertodealwiththefrizz.

The door to the bathroom opened, letting in a burst of cool air before the sliding door to the

showeropenedbehindme.

Hewasnakedwhenheslidhisbodyagainstmine,hishandreachingtomyfrontandshowingme

he’dthoughttograbtheshampoo.

“Thankyou.”ItookitoutofhishandsandsqueezedalargeamountintomypalmsbeforeIturned

andsteppedslightlyoutofthespraysohecouldgetwet.“Joiningmeintheshower?”

“FiguredthequickerIgotuscleanedup,thequickeryoucouldputyourmouthwhereyouwanted

itearlier.”

Herockedhishipsforward,drawingmyattentiondownward.
“You’re an ass,” I whispered, scrubbing my hair but still unable to take my eyes off his hand

wrappedaroundhislongandthickerection.

Hewasbeautiful.Strongandsinewyandeverymuscleinhisabdomenbunchedandflexedashe

slowlystrokedhimself.

He was a jerk, or he could be, but he was also quick to apologize as if he couldn’t believe the

thingshespokesometimes.Likehedidn’twanttobewhohe’dbecome,butdidn’tknowhowtostop
it.

“Tellmeyoudon’twantmydickinyourthroat,thatyoudon’twanttoleavetodaywiththetasteof

mycuminyourmouth.”

Irinsedmyhairbeforehesteppedintothespray,washinghimself.
Soap rolled down his body while he scrubbed himself with his hands, cupping his balls and

cleaningoffhisdick.

Istoodfrozen,andmyhandsfelltomysidesasIlickedthedropsofwateroffmylips.
“You want it, don’t you? You want me more than you think you should, but you can’t help

yourself.”

Hereadmelikeanopenbook.Istillchallengedhimbyarchingabrow.
“Andyou?”Iasked,unabletostopmyselffrommovingtowardhimandreachingforhim.Hewas

right.Ididwantthetasteofhimdeepinmythroat.“Doesitpissyouoffthatyouwantmesomuch?”

Idroppedtomykneesandlickedalonghisshaft.Hishandfellfromhisdicktomyhead,pushing

wateroffmyforehead.

“Fuck.Yes,itpissesmeoff.”
Ilookedupathimfromonmyknees.Satisfactiontrilledthroughmyveinsathisadmission.
“Suckmeharder.Deeper.”
Hiscommandsshotthroughme,makingmeflush.NeverhadIbeensoexcitedtogetonmyknees

for a man, or had I thought being told what to do would be such a fucking turn-on. Out of bed, it
rankledme.

Insideofit,orintheshower—oranytimeIhadmyhandsonOliverorhiswereonmybody—it

mademeneedy,desperateforhim.

Iwrappedmyhandaroundhisshaft,pullingandtuggingasmymouthwenttoworkonhim.His

hands cupped my cheeks, holding me in place while he fucked my mouth. Every thrust of his hips
forwarddrovemecrazy,makingmegag,andtearsfellfrommyeyes.

“Relaxyourthroat,”hewhispered,gentlinghisholdonme.“Openitandtakemedeeper.Youcan

doit.”’

Hepushedforwardslowly,thetipofhimscrapingagainstthebackofmythroat.
I began to take more of him while he slowly moved forward and retreated. He gave me time to

breatheandadjust.EveryglideofhisdickagainstmythroatmademegrowwetteruntilIdroppedone
handtomycenterandrubbedmyclit.

“That’sit,”hemurmuredencouragingly.“GetyourselfoffbecauseI’mnotcominginyourthroat.

I’mcomingalloveryourfuckinggorgeoustits.”

Mybodytrembledathiswords,butIcomplied.
Iwantedwhateverhewanted.
“Faster,”hesaid.“Spreadyourlegs.Yourmouthfeelssofull,sofuckinggoodonmydick.”
Ibuiltuptheheatinmybodyashisthrustscamequicker.
“Fuck,”hegroaned,hismovementsbecomingmoreerratic.

Iwhimperedaroundhiscock,myorgasmcoilinginsideme.Itwasbarrelingdownonme,making

mypulsespeed.Mymovementsaroundhisdickturnedfreneticfromtheimpendingrushthatwould
floodmyveins.

“Fuckinghurry,Shannon.”Hegrunted,movedfaster,andIputmyhandbackonhisshafttostop

himfrompushingtoohard.

Heslappedmyhandawayandglareddownatme.“You’llfuckingtakewhatIgiveyouandyou’ll

loveit,everysinglefuckingtime.”

The warning, the threat…the promise, was all I needed. I squeezed my eyes closed as he hit my

throatat the sametime I explodedbeneath him. My kneeshurt from thetravertine-tiled floor, but it
wasallsecondarytothepleasurethatrolledthroughme,brightlightssparkingbehindmyclosedlids
whenhequicklypulledoutofme.

Iopenedmyeyesjustintimetoseehishardcockinfrontofme,andhiscumsplashedagainstmy

chestlikehe’dpromised.

He braced himself with one hand on the wall next to us, his other wrapped around the length of

him.Hetuggedharshlyashegruntedhisclimax,shootinginlong,thickspurtsallovermywetand
soapybreasts.

Iwaiteduntilhewasdoneandthenmyhandswenttomychest.Iwasheditawaywhileatthesame

timerubbingitintomyskin,smilingwhenIrealizedwhatIwasdoing.

“Fucking hell,” he said, his voice harsh and dry. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone suck my

dicklikeyoudo.”

It was meant as a compliment as he reached down and helped me to my feet before quickly

brushinghislipsagainstmine.

I tried to take it that way. I still turned and put my back to the shower, not wanting him to know

howithurtme.Thereminderofthewomenheusedforsex,thatIwashere,athiscrashpadandnot
hishome,wherewe’djustfuckedlikerabbitsforhoursandsleptverylittle.

Hishandsslidtothefrontofmystomachandhepulledmeagainsthim.Hislipsglideddownthe

sideofmythroatasIcleanedmyself,keepingmyeyesclosed.

“Ifeellikeyoutookthatthewrongway,oritcameoutthewrongway.IjustmeantthatIlikedit.

Fuckinglovedit.WillbesomethingIalwaysremember.”

Atleastthatwasabonus.WhenIwasgone,whenweweredone,he’dremembermylipsaround

hisdick.

“Ishouldgetgoing,”Isaid,steppingoutofthewaterandpracticallyjumpingoutofhisgrasp.
“You’rehurt,andI’mnotsurewhatIdidtodothat.”
Ididn’tknoweither.Maybebecausethissimplywasn’tme.IwasmovingonfromPatrick.Iwasn’t

willingtogetlostinsomeonelikethatagain,someonewhoseverypresencemadeeveryonewantto
puttheirowndesirestothesideandgivethemwhatevertheyneededorwanted.

Icouldseeithappening,fromthewayIrespondedtohiscommandstothewayI’dthoughtabout

himallweek.

PerhapsIwasn’tcutoutforthisafterall.Itwasn’tmyheartIwasworriedabout,itwasmyown

passions, my own desires and dreams. I was suddenly terrified that spending time around Oliver
wouldmakemegetallwrappedupinhimandhisdesiresandthatminewouldgetpushedtotheaside.

Again.
This was supposed to be my hour, my time to finally throw myself into everything I’d always

wanted. Getting lost in Oliver Powell and his magic cock with his wicked words had the power to
throwitalloff-kilterifIletit.

“I’ll let you shower,” I mumbled and stepped from the steamy, enclosed space before he could

stopme.

“YouleavebeforeIgetoutandI’lltanyourass,”hesaidoverthedinofthewaterfalling.“Not

fuckingkidding,Shannon.”

Iwasn’tplanningonit.Iwasafraid,butIwasn’tacoward.Ididn’tenjoyrunningfromsomething

difficult,eventhoughI’ddonethattoo.Sure,ImissedBeauxandwantedtobeclosetofamily,butat
theepicenterofmydecisiontoleaveDesMoineswasthefactitwastoohardtofacethememoriesof
Patrickandourlifetogether.

Ididn’twanttodoitagain,though,butitalsodidn’tmeanIhadtohopbackintobedwiththeman

either.Ididn’thavetothroweverythingIwantedawayjustbecausehecommandedit.

Iwasdressedandinthekitchen,drinkingcoffeeandmixinghimaproteinshakewhenhewalked

indressedinworkoutclothes,runningshoesalreadystrappedtohisfeet.

“Nottryingtotakecareofyou,”Isaidbeforehecouldsnarlatmefortheshake.“Oldhabitsdie

hard.”

“Thankyou.Thatwasnice.”Hetookasipandpulledthecupawayfromhismouth.“Wouldyou

liketoexplainwhathappenedearlier?”

Ishookmyhead.Nope.Ididn’t.Istillwasn’tcertainmyself.“Ihavetogettowork.I’mswamped

andeverything’shappeningsofast.”

Imeantthebusinessandthestreetfairandmyownpersonalfearoffailure,butIallowedOliver

totakeitasbetweenus.

“I see.” He drained the last of his shake and reached for his keys. “Am I taking you back to

Beaux’s?”

“Stampediscloser.Youcantakemethere.”

***

“Ifyouthinkyou’retheonlypersonshakenfromthisattractionbetweenus,you’dbewrong.”He

spokesoquietlywhenhepulledinfrontofStampedthatIalmostdidn’thearhim.

Theridehadbeenquietandtense,neitherofusspeakingminusthedirectionsIhadtogivehim.
I’dhadonehandonthedoorhandletomakemyquickescape,butwhenhedroppedthatbomb,I

turnedtohim.

“Maybeyou’rerighttorun,”hesaidandscrubbedahanddownhisface.“Maybeitmakesmea

biggerprickthanyouthinkIamtomakeitsoyoucan’t.”

“You consume everything, everyone around you. I don’t want to disappear in your shadow.” I

lookedatStamped,thefirstthingtohavepotentialtobeallmine,thefirstthinginmylife.“I’mjust
out of a five-year relationship. Rebounding maybe?” I shook my head. That wasn’t what this was
turninginto,atleastforme,andIdidn’twanttocheapenit.“Idon’tknowwhatIwantrightnow.”

Ididn’tmisstheteasingtoneinhisvoice.“IthinkyoulikewhenIconsumeyou.”
Iflashedhimalookovermyshoulder,partannoyed,partscared,equalpartsamused.“Youknow

whatImean.”

HepulledhiseyesoffmetothefrontdoorofStamped.Thewindowswerecovered,butthemetal

signoutfronthadbeenhungbeforethegameyesterday.Itwaspolishedandperfect,givingasenseof
whatwasinside.Andbehindthosecoveredwindows,IwasreallyfreakingproudofwhatI’ddoneina
week.

“Maybeyou’reright,”hefinallymuttered.“ButI’dstilllikeyoutogivemeatourofyourplace.

Showmewhatyoudo.”

“Why?”
Hegavemeashrug,lookingasuncertain.
“Fine.”Idugmykeysoutfrommypurseandopenedthedoor.“Butnomakingfunofmystuff.”
ThebeautyofanonlinestorewasthatIgottohavemyanonymity.Nooneboughtanythingfrom

mebecauseIwasthesisterofanNFLplayer.ThedownsidewasthatIneversawanyone’sreactions
whentheyboughtmyjewelryandfellinlovewithit.Weretheyasthrilledastheypretendedintheir
thankyounotesIreceivedorweretheyjustbeingpolite?

SeeingOliverwalkthroughmysmallstoreasIopenedthedoorandledhimthroughmademy

pulseraceinawayithadn’tyetaroundhim.

I’d always had Beaux’s support. It was what we did for each other. I’d made decent money in

college selling to other college students. I made decent money now with my online-only store, in
addition to making simple items in bulk and selling them to online boutique clothing stores like
ModernVintage.

Yet seeing Oliver Powell walk through my building, glancing through the display cases and

runninghisfingertipsalongtheedgeoftheglasslikehewasafraidtoleaveasmudge,createdalump
inmystomach..

“Youmakeallofthis?”heasked,staringatsomesimple,thickbraceletcuffs.“How?”
Iclearedmythroatandwalkedtohim,settingmypurseneartheregistercounteronmyway.“In

theback.IhaveaworkroomwhereIdesignandmakeeverything.”

“Showme.”
I looked at the clock on the far wall. That space was personal. And a disastrous mess. Letting

OliverintothatsacredspaceofminewouldshowhimmoreofmethanIwantedtoreveal.

Ididn’tanswer.Istaredatthedoorthatledtotheworkroomandprivaterestroom.Thatlumpin

mystomachgrewlarger.

“Shannon?”Oliverasked.“CanIseeit?”
ItwasatippingpointtosomethingIdidn’tfullyunderstand.Iwouldessentiallybebaringmyself

tohim,notmybody,butmysoulandallmyinnermostdesires…ifhecouldseeitthroughthechaotic
messIlivedin.

Hewalkedtowardme,hispresencegrowinglargerandheavieruntilhewasnexttome.Fromthe

cornerofmyeyesIcouldonlyseehisprofile,thewaylinespoppedandappearedattheoutercorners
ofhiseyeswhenheranahandthroughhishairandexhaledharshly.

“I’mguessingthisishowIfeltwhenyousawmewithRalphandWinne.”
IlaughedbeforeIcouldstopmyself.“Strippedraw?Vulnerable?”
Icouldn’tlookathim.Mypalmsweresweatingandmypulsewasracing.
“Ididn’tknowwhyIwantedyouthere,thenyouwereandIdidn’tknowwhatthefucktodoabout

it.”

Another harsh laugh fell from my lips. I swiped my mess of a hair off my neck, which burned

underhisseekinggaze.

Inoddedonce,understandingwhathewassayinginawayIdidn’tthinkanyoneelsecould.
Heheldhimselfawayfrompeople—whetherfromhispastormaybebecauseofhisnotoriety,I

didn’tknow.

IjustknewIdidthesame.IwasBeauxHale’ssister,andwiththatIwasusedtoputtingupwalls,

notallowingmanypeopletogetclosetomeforfearofbeingused.Patrickhadbrokenthroughand

thenblownittosmithereens.OnlyMelissahadeverbeensomeoneIfullytrusted.

Granted, I could walk through malls without recognition or being hounded for autographs, but

therewereplentyoftimesmynamehadbeenpairedwithBeauxwhenpicturesofusoutfordinneror
attheESPYawardssurfaced.

“Okay.”Thewordwasawhisper,pulledfrommythroatbeforeIcouldchokeitdown.
He followed me through the rest of the store while I stalled and moved as slowly as I could. I

realized halfway there that Oliver wasn’t following me. He was lingering, looking at every single
pieceofjewelryI’dmadewithsoftnessinhiseyes.HehadanappreciationforwhatIpouredmyheart
into.

Damnhimandhishiddenkindness.
I was trying to walk away from him, and he was pulling me closer to him without a word or a

touch,justhisrespect.

Mykeysjangledinmyhand,gettinghisattentionfromaselectionofleather-wrappedcuffswith

silveraccentsaroundtheedges.

“Ihaveafriendwhowouldlovethese,”hesaid,pointingatapairofbraidedleathercuffs,gold

metal stamped along the border. They were edgy and country and I loved them. I’d made them the
otherdayafterwalkingpastabarwherecountrymusichadfilteredthroughthedoors.

Themusic,thesuddenrealizationIwasintheSouthnowandeveryonelovedtheircountrydown

here,hadinspiredawholenewselectionofdesigns.ThoseweretheonlytwoI’dcompleted.

“I just made those the other day,” I admitted, feeling something churn in my stomach at the

mentionofafriend.Afemaleone.

Hewasallowedtohavethem,afterall.
Iturnedawayandunlockedthebackoffice/workroombeforehecouldseethatit’dbotheredme.I

hadnoright.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispered when he walked up behind me. He still wasn’t touching me. I

suddenlywantedhimtobe.“Didsomeonebreakin?”

ChapterTWELVE

OLIVER

Ididn’tknowwheretolookfirstasItookinthecrowdedanddestroyedspace.WhereverIlooked,

it was a disaster. Buckets of metal, different sizes and different colors with smaller buckets and
drawerspulledopen,theircontentsscatteredallovertheplace.

Toolsandpaperlitteredthetabletops.Ispiedasmallareawithalaptop,andremnantsoftakeout

andbillsandmorepaperandmoretoolscoveredwhatIassumedwasawooddesk.Itwashardtotell.

Theroomlookedlikeit’dbeeninvadedandtrashedbysomeonedesperate.
Her laughter pulled my eyes off the space and to her, where a furious red heat bloomed on her

cheeks.“No.I’mjust…reallymessy.”Shewavedherhandout,butshedidn’tneedto—itwasobvious
andIhadneverbeensosurprisedbyanythingaboutthisgirluntilthismoment.

Andwhythiswaswhatshockedme,rockingandknockingsomethinghardenedlooseinsidemy

chest,Ihadnoidea.“Butyou’realwayssoputtogether.”

IwasbaffledandIcouldn’thideit.
“Beaux’s made fun of me for it, for like ever, I think.” She shrugged and walked toward what I

assumedwasherdesk.Shepickedupapileofpapersandsetthemdownagain.“I’veneverbeengood
atcleaning,orpickingup,andmymindworksbetterinthechaos.Doesitscareyou?”

Strangely,mydicktwitchedandhardenedbeneathmyshorts.Isawherguardedandcareful,quiet

and held back, almost too proper and perfect in the few times I’d seen her. This…this rattled me…
mademeseeherinadifferentway.Awomanwhowasfranticandhurriedandcreative,someonewho
livedinsideherheadmorethanoutofit.

“No.Itdoesn’tscareme.”
Shecaughtthegravellytoneinmyvoiceandquicklyglancedaway.“Sothisisit.Thisiswherethe

magichappens.”

Shepickedupasetofpliersandtossedthemintothebucket.Fromthetopofit,Isawhandlesto

othertools.Behindit,somesortoftablesawandahandheldcircularsaw.

Ithoughtofherwieldingit,slashingthroughmetal,andmydickhardenedfurther.
Thiswasn’tsexy.Itwasadisasterandmessy,butIwantedtobemakingadifferentkindofmagic.
Her jewelry was incredible. Beyond what I could have possibly imagined. I had pictured tiny

jewelsandflamboyantrings.Typicalcharmsonsilverandgoldchains.

NothingIthoughtofcameclosetothecreativemagnitudethathadstolenmybreathassoonasI

sawit.

Shewaslettingmeseeit,despitethinkingweweremovingtoofast,despitewantingtorunfrom

me.Apartofher,Iknew,feltthesamewayaboutmethatIdidabouther.Therewasapullbetweenus,
magneticandstrongandfierce.Neitherofusnecessarilywantedit,butitalsocouldn’tbedenied.

Runningwasfutile.
Burningitout,impossible.
I memorized plays and studied my opponent for a living. I studied game films and had played

football long enough to adjust my game plan in a split second on the field when I saw a defender
barrelingdownonme.

For the last seven years, since I’d played the field since Serena walked away, her pockets lined

withmillions,noonehadevermademewanttochangemygameplan.

This woman…this sexy as fuck, intelligent, beautiful, kind, guarded, and fucking messy as hell

womanrockedeverythingbeneathmyfeet.

IstruggledwithwhatwashappeninginsidemebeforeIrealizedshewaswatchingme,waitingfor

myjudgment.

“You’re talented,” I admitted. A strange buzzing whirred maniacally in my ears. “Incredibly

talented. Everything I can see is absolutely stunning, and I’m not just saying that to get in your
panties.”

Iflashedheranawkwardlook,oneIhopedlikehellsheletslide.
My chest burned. My shirt or my skin was too tight. I needed to get out of there and I suddenly

understoodherreactionthatmorningintheshower.

Iwastoomuchforher.
She was too much for me. She made me feel too much, think too much, question fucking

everything.

“Thankyou,”shemuttered,thebrightredonhercheeksfadingtoadullpink.
Ihadtheurgetoreachoutandsmoothitawaywithmythumb.Tellherhowmuchsheimpressed

me.Spillmygutsatherfeetandhopelikehellshedidn’tstompalloverthem.

Ishovedmyhandstomyhipstostopmyself.Shehadshownmeherinnersanctum,anddoingso

hadblowneverythingtosmithereens.

“Ishouldletyougettowork,”Imumbled,lookingaroundeverywhereexceptather.
“Okay.”
Shedidn’tstopme.Didn’tmoveorseemtonoticetheinsanityburningdeepinsideme.Anditwas

allherfuckingfault.

“Ineedtogoworkout.”
“I’llletyougettoitthen.”Shesetastackofbillsshe’dbeenflippingthroughdownonthedesk

andwalkedtowardme.“I’llwalkyouout.”

“Okay.” I stepped back and out of the room, hoping like hell the open warehouse feeling of the

front area would fill my lungs with a cooling breath. Everything buzzed brighter and hotter as she
walkedmetothefrontdoor.

Icouldbarelylookatherwhenshepulleditopen,steppingasidesoIcouldwalkthrough.Whatin

thehellwouldsheseeonmydamnface?Thelookofamanwhohadjustrealizedthatforthefirst
timeinoveradecadeheactuallythoughthewasfallingforsomewoman?

Itwasbullshit.I’dknownheroveraweek,seenheratotaloffourtimes—fiveifyoucountedthis

morning.Ididn’tbelieveinthat“firstsight”fantasybullshitunlessitwaslust.

Thiswasmore,though—headier—anditmademyheadspin.
“I’llseeyoulater?”Iasked,barelyabletochokeoutthewords.Iwaslost,free-falling.
“Bye,Oliver.”
I heard the hurt in her words, the total misunderstanding from everything that was slamming

insidemybrain,andIcouldn’tarticulateit.

Ididn’tcorrecther,either.Therewasnofuckingwaythiswasgoodbye.
Iwouldn’tsaygoodbyetoher.Notever.
Whereinthehelldidthatcomefrom?

I jerked my head when I got to my car. She was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed

protectivelyoverherstomachlikeshewastryingtoshieldherselffrommeagain.

Ididn’tthink.
Ihurriedbacktoher,notcaringthatshejumpedinsurprisewhenIrushedher.Ipressedmyhands

tohercheeks.Myroughandcallusedpalmsscrapedhersoftandtenderandfuckingdeliciousskin.

Ikissedher.Ikissedherhardandlongandshovedmytonguedeepinsidehermouthasshegasped

in shock. Without words, using the only thing I could think of—my hands and my tongue and my
suddenerectionclamoringtogetoutofmyshorts—IfuckingshowedhereverythingIwasthinking
andfeeling.

The sudden onslaught of emotions, the thick desire to slam her into the door and fuck the

daylightsandbrainsoutofbothofus,hadmepullingback,bothofusgaspingforbreath,hereyes
justaswideandferalasmine.

“Whatinthehellwasthat?”sheasked,wipingacrossthebottomofherlip.
Ifollowedherfinger,pressinglessfuriouskisseslongherbottomlip.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid,gaspingforbreath.“Idon’tfuckingknow.Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingon,

butthatwasn’tgoodbye.Don’tsaythattome.”

Iwasdesperate.Sinkingandsoaring.Fallingandflying.Twistingandunraveling.
Nothingmadesenseexceptthetasteofheronmylipsandthefeelofhertremblingbodyagainst

mine.

“I’llseeyoulater,Shannon.”
IlethergobeforeIdideverythingIwantedtodotoher.
But I’d see her later. I’d be drilling my cock deep inside of every inch of her, claiming her and

makingherminebeforeeitherofusrealizeditcouldbetheworstthingweeverdid.

***

“Iceyourankle,twentyminuteson,tenminutesoff.”
“Iknowhowtohandleit.”Ibarkedattheathletictrainerwrappingmyankle.Ihadnoonetobe

pissedatbutmyself.Andthankfully,itwasn’tsprained,justtwistedandswollen.I’dbefinebynext
week,butthefactthatIhadn’tbeenabletoclearmyhead,focusonthegameandthepracticelikeI
usuallydidstillpissedmeoff.

Fuck,I’dgottenhurtinapracticewherewedidn’tevenwearourpads.
Coach Pomville pushed through the door, slamming it so hard it banged against the windowed

wall.“Whatinthefuckwasthat?”HeshoutedatmelikeI’dlosttheSuperBowl.

Ihadnoonetoblamebutmyself,butIdidn’tcowertothecoach.Notanymore.Ihadtoomany

yearsundermybelt.Toomanybadgamesandbadpractices.

“I’llgetittogether,”Iassuredhim.“Justamisstep,isall.”
“‘Justamisstep,isall.’”Hemockedmywordsandshooedthetrainerawayafterhesetanicepack

onthetable.Iwasstillinmyshorts,althoughI’drippedmyshirtoffbeforeIwasbacktothelocker
room.

IlookedCoachdirectlyintheeyesashestalkedtowardme.
“Youknowwhatwehaveridingonyouthisseason?Afuckingcontractextension.Youcan’tpull

shitlikethis.Youcan’tbedistractedforasinglefuckingsecond.Youunderstandthat?”

Iunderstood.Morethanhedid.Myfive-yearcontractwasupattheendofthisseasonandIwas

gettingold.

Onebadgamewouldbethedifferencebetweenmillionsofdollarsandretirement.
“IsaidI’llgetittogether.”
“Seethatyoudo.”
Heleftasquicklyashehadentered,alreadybarkingdownanotherplayer ’sthroat,withthedoor

slammingshutbehindhim.

Coach Pomville was an awesome coach. He knew when to motivate, knew when to kick ass and

smackhelmets.Iadmiredhim,hadmadrespectforhimbothonandoffthefield.

I’dbeenofftoday.Iwasstillsorefromlastnight’sgamebecausethehitsweren’taseasilyshaken

offanymorewhenmenalmosttenyearsyoungerandstrongerthanangrybullschargedatme.

Ineededtobemorefocused.
Iwouldbe,too,afterIsettledshitwithShannon.WhileIshouldhavebeenfocusedonplaysand

receiving and running and taking off from the line of scrimmage, I had been thinking about black
curlyhairallovermypillowsandheaven-scentedpussy.

BeforeIcouldtalkmyselfoutofit,Ipickedupmyphoneandcalledher.
“Hello?”Shesoundeddistractedwhensheanswered,morethanalittleirritated.
“YoustillatStamped?”Iasked,barkingoutthequestionlikePomvillehadjustsnappedatme.
“Oliver?”Thephonewentquiet.“Oh,sorry,”shesaid.“Ididn’tlookattheIDbeforeIanswered.”
“You always this rude to unknown callers?” A grin tugged at my lips, the urge to tease her

unbearable.

“No.” She sighed, and I imagined a finger going to those curls, wrapping it around her finger

beforeshetuggedandletitpopbackintoplacelikeaspring.“Justacrappyafternoon.Whatareyou
doing?”

“Headedtoyourplace.Iwanttoseeyou.Weneedtotalk.”
“Talk?”
“Yes.”
“About?”
“I’lltellyouwhenIgetthere.”AndthenI’dshowher.“Whereareyou?”
“Um.I’matBeaux’s.Icanmeetyou…”
“No.”Iwantedherinwhateverbedshesleptinforonce.Iwantedhertowakeupknowingshe’d

nevergetthememoryofmewashedoutofhersheets.LikeIgaveashitifBeauxheardme.“I’llbe
thereinthirty.”

“Um,maybewecan—”
“Thirtyminutes,Shannon.Bereadyforme.”
Ihungupbeforeshecouldreply,butnotbeforeIcaughtthequickintakeofherbreath.
Sofuckingresponsive.Sobeautiful.
Soon she was going to be all mine, because I had two choices: get rid of her before the season

started so I could focus on only the game, or go all in so we could stop this ridiculous bullshit
uncertaintybetweenus.

Andonlyonechoicewasacceptable.
Ihoppedoffthebench,tossingtheicepacktothetable.
“Hey,”thetrainer,Alan,calledafterme.
“Ice it, twenty on, ten off. I got it.” I raised my hand as I headed out the door, listening to him

grumbleabouthowwedidn’tknowshit.

Iwalkedcarefully,myankletenderandtwistedbutnotsoreenoughthatIcouldn’tputweightonit.

The fact that I was injured, mildly, only gave me ideas on how Shannon could take care of me

later.Withherhands,hermouth,herthighsclenchedaroundmyhipsassherodeme,takingusboth
overtheedge.

“Hey.”Beauxslappedmyshoulder,andhisvoicealongwithhistouchwasjustthebucketoficeI

neededtodrownmyerection.Ahard-oninathleticshortswastooobvious.“We’repartyingtonight,
headingout.Youcoming,oldman?”

Icouldn’thelpmyself.“I’llbecoming.Butnotwithyou.”
The kid’s skin went green and he covered his eyes. “Jesus. Fuck. Don’t say that shit to me. I’m

fucking serious. I don’t need that image—” He scrubbed his face and shook his head. “Seriously,
you’reanasshole,Powell,youknowthat?”

Islappedhimontheshoulder.“Havefuntonight.Wewon’twaitupforyou.”
“Aw…hell.You’redoingitatmyplacenow?Stayoffthefurniture.”
Ihadn’tplannedonbeingonit.Atleastnotforlong.IstillwiggledmyeyebrowsasIpushedpast

himonmywaytomylocker.

“Dick!”heshoutedandturnedtowardhisownlockeronthefarsideoftheroom.
Because we were men, and we thought with that part, and in the locker room everything went, I

reacheddownandgrabbedmysemi-harddickandshoutedBeaux’sname.

“Shelikesit,though,youknow?Ithinkit’sgoodforher.”
“Damn,Powell,”oneofourdefensivelinemengroaned.“That’sjustnasty.”
“You’renasty,”Ishoutedback.“Halecantakeit.”
“Ohtheinnuendointhatone.ThethingsIcouldsay,”Rudolphmuttered,earninganotherroundof

groansthroughouttheroom.

“Don’tfuckwiththequarterback,”someoneelseshouted.
I thought it was the safety, Smith, but I turned back to the locker when I saw Hale’s cheeks had

turnedbrightpinkwithembarrassmentlikeShannon’sdid.Imighthavegonetoofar,butthesafety
kepttalking.

“Quarterback’spissedoffatyouandyouwon’tgettherecordfortightendreceivingtouchdowns

thisyear.”

“Iwouldn’tfuckwithhisrecord,”Halesaid.
Iturnedtohim,thefactthatI’dforgottenallthatlayinthepalmofmyhands…allthatrestedinhis

hadbeenmomentarilyforgottenwhilemyjudgmentbecamecloudedwithpussy.

“SweartofuckingChrist,Powell,Iwouldn’tpullthatshitonyou,nomatterhowmuchyoupiss

meoff.Don’tfuckinghurther.YoudoandI’llkickyourass,butthatshitwon’tfilterontothefield.”

Iexaminedhimthen.ItwasthemostseriousI’deverseenhim,mostdeterminedaboutanything.

Beauxwasalwayssofuckinglaidbackitwashardtotrusthim,butIcouldn’tfindasinglepartofhim
thatdidn’tseemonehundredandtenpercenthonestabouthisstatement.

Somethinggrewbetweenhimandmeinthatmoment.Respect.
IneededitfromhimlikeIneededtogiveittohim,andthatwouldearnhistrust,bothonandoff

thefield.

“Ihearyou,kid,”Isaid.
Idroppedmyshortsandwrappedatowelaroundmywaist.Ionlyhadafewminutesforaquick

scrub-downbeforeIcouldbeatShannon’swhenItoldherIwouldbe.

Ididn’tneedtospendanymoreofitbondingwiththemen.

***

She answered the door to the condo as soon as I knocked, her hair disheveled and flying out

behind her, and a little breathless. None of it matched the fury flashing in her eyes that she tried to
hideassoonasIsteppedin.

“Beauxcalled,saidheandtheteamweregoingouttonight.Didyouplanthat?”
Igrinned.“Fortuitous,Ithink,butno,Ididn’t.Isthatwhyyoulookreadytostranglesomeone?”
Shegroanedandmovedtowardthekitchen.“No.I’vebeenonthephonewithmyfriendMelissa

alldamndaybecausePatrick’sbeingadouche-nuggetaboutmyfurniture.”Sheyankedthecorkout
ofawinebottleandfilledaglasswithdeepredliquid.“Sorry,youwantsome?”’

“I’llhelpmyselftowater.Who’sPatrick?”
“Myex.”
My head was buried in the fridge when she muttered the word. When I looked back, she was

swallowingthewinelikeshewasinacollegechuggingcontest.

“Hey.”Iwalkedtoherandtooktheglassfromhermouth,smilingassheleanedforwardtoget

onemoredropandthenlickedherlipstogetanyremainingonesthatfell.“What’sgoingon?”

She shook her head and looked over my shoulder. “That’s not why you came here. Not to talk

about that.” Her brow wrinkled and she looked at me. “Why did you come here? This morning…I
thought—”

“We’ll get to that.” I opened my water and chugged half of it. I was stuck on her ex being an

asshole—anassholethatfuckedaroundwithanotherwomanandwasstupidenoughtogetcaught.Red
blurredattheedgesofmyvision.“Tellmewhathappenedtoday.IsthatwhyyouwereirritatedwhenI
called?”

“Irritated,pissed,distractedandtoobusytohandleallthisshitonmylap?Yes.”
“Whoa.”Ihandedherwineback.Shewasbabblingandmanic.Maybethealcoholwouldsettleher

down.“Calmdown.Youeatendinneryet?”

“No.Iorderedpizzasawhileago.”
Pizzaandmassivecarbswouldmeanafour-hourworkouttomorrowinsteadofthree.Ididn’tsay

shit.Shelookedlikeshecouldreachforabutcher ’sknifeandflingitatthenextthingthatsetheroff.
Itwasn’tgoingtobememoaningaboutpizza.

“How about we sit and talk,” I suggested and then opened the door to the freezer. I was helping

myself like I lived there and she didn’t say a word. I dug through bags of frozen vegetables until I
foundanicepack.

“You’rehurt?”Hereyesjumpedandhergazequicklyroamedmybodybeforemeetingmine.
“Twistedmyankle.Nobigdeal,Iswear.”
HershouldersslumpedabitandforthefirsttimesinceI’darrived,Ithinkshebreathed.
I walked to the living room couch and sat down, propping my foot onto a pillow on the coffee

tabletokeepitelevated.OnceIwassettled,Iputmyarmonthebackofthecouchandgesturedfor
hertojoinme.

ItriednottoletitbothermethatshesatjustoutofmyreachinsteadofcurledintomysidelikeI

wanted.

We’dgetthereaftershebitchedaboutPatrickandafterwetalkedaboutwhereIwastakingus.She

didn’ttrustmeyetandsheshouldn’t.I’dbeenwaytoofuckingmercurial.

“Talktome.”Iwaitedforwhatfeltlikeforeverbeforeshebegan.

ChapterTHIRTEEN

SHANNON

I’d been on a rollercoaster all day long. After Oliver ’s abrupt departure this morning—not

knowingatallwherewestood,butfeelinglikesomethinghadshiftedbetweenus,somethingmoving
pastthisfour-weekarrangementwe’dagreedon—I’dreceivedacallfromPatrick.

Thedaywentdownhillfromthere.
I set my glass of wine down on the table and tucked my feet under me on the couch and faced

Oliver.

He’dgesturedformetositnexttohim,butIwasstilltooraw,toodizzytotrusthistouch.
Now,justoutofhisreach,IwishedtherewasawayIcouldmovecloserwithoutbeingobvious.I

wantedtobeclosertohim,pressedagainsthisdefinedchestandenclosedinhissinewyarms.

Undertherightcircumstances,itwouldbeasafehaven.
Ididn’tknowifwewerethereyet,soIheldback,tryingtobesmart.
“PatrickandIlivedtogether,”IstartedafterItriedtopiecetogetherthedayenoughtotellitsoit

madesense.“Buthemovedintomyapartment.Iaddedhisnametotheleaseafterthefirstyear,and
I’vesincehadmynameremovedfromit,butallthefurnitureinitismine.He’srefusingtogivemea
time that movers can be there to pack it up and move it out here until I agree to see him so he can
apologize.”

“Hewantsyouback.”
Oliver ’svoicewentsteelyandIsighed.“Yeah.”
“Andyouwant?”
“Gosh.”Ishookmyheadandmessedwithmyhair.“Notthat.Ithinkhe’sembarrassedandpissed

thatsomeoneofmycaliberoflifestylewalkedawayfromhim.”

Oliver ’sbrowsjumpeduphisforehead.
“Iknow,”IsaidasIlaughedsoftly.“Hisfamilyisreallywealthy.Thinktheymighthaveownedall

oftheIowanlandatonepoint,andthey’vesolditoff.”

Itwasanexaggeration,buttheirwealthoverwhelmedmeonthebestofdays.Theyeithercurrently

ownedsomething,orhadonceownedthelandmostoftheDesMoinesareahadbeenbuilton,notto
mentionthebuildingstheyowned,too.

“Anyway, I’m just a girl from a rundown home, with a single mom who had two kids with two

differentdadsandcouldbarelyaffordtoraiseus.”

“That’snotyou,”Oliversnapped.Hewassoserious.
Icouldn’tpullmyeyesoffhistawnyeyes.
“That’snotwhoyouare.”
“Itis,though.”Ishrugged.Iwasn’tashamedofmypast.
Compared to Patrick and his family, who hosted fundraisers for politicians and didn’t eat

anywhereexceptarestaurantwithvaletparking—ararityinDesMoines—wewerecommon.Lower
class.

Iwavedawayhisstatement.“It’snotabigdeal.BeauxandIcamefromnothing.I’mproudofmy

mom. She worked her whole life, paying for it in the end, and I didn’t mind taking care of her or
helpingBeauxsucceed.Idon’teventhinkPatrickwantsme.Hejustdoesn’twanttolose.”

“Sohowareyougettingyourstuff?”
“I’ve considered staying with Beaux until I can afford new stuff for my apartment above

Stamped.”

“There’sanapartmentthere?”Oliver ’seyeslitwithinterest.“Youmean,whenIwasthereearlier,

weweretenyardsfromabedanddidn’tendupinit?”

The teasing glint in his eyes relaxed me and I laughed, tilting my head against the back of the

couch.

“Surprising,huh?Butno,thebedisnastyandIcouldlivethere,butIwantmyownstuff.Patrick

can afford to replace everything with the snap of his fingers. He’s only holding onto it to maintain
sometwistedsenseofcontrol.”

“Sowhatareyougoingtodo?”
“MybestfriendMelissahasakey.She’sgoingtomeetthemoverstherenextweek,orassoonasI

cangeteverythingscheduled.”

Shewasecstaticabouttheidea.
When we had talked earlier, she’d told me about a photo she’d seen online of Oliver and me

leavingthegametogether.We’dlaughedandover-analyzedeverythingthathadchangedformeinthe
shorttimeI’dbeenhere.WhenItoldherIwashappy,she’dreluctantlyagreednottocausepotential
problemswithPatrick—evenifshewasgloomyaboutmemakingherpromisenottosliceanddice
allofPatrick’sexpensivesuitslikeshe’dmentioned.

While I had struggled with my frustration with Patrick all day today, I also realized something

important.

I was over him long before our relationship was over. We’d been roommates mostly for six

months before we broke up, before I caught him cheating. We’d drifted apart before he began
cheating,boredandtooplacatedwithourlivesafteronlyafewyearstogether.Ifarelationshipcould
bethatdullaftersuchashorttime,wehadnobusinessspendingalifetimetogether.

Iwantedpassionandexcitement.Iwantedfriendshipandrespect.Iwantedlaughterandlatenight

movies in bed and marathon, athletic sex sessions. I didn’t want those moments to dull before the I
Doswerespoken,andwithPatricktheyhadyearsprior.

It might have been my stubbornness that made me hold on for so long, something Melissa

remindedmeofwhenwespoke.I’dbeenunhappyforalongtimeandbeforeIwasunhappy,I’dbeen
uncertainofthefuture.

IlovedthatshewaiteduntilsheknewIcouldhandlehearingthetruthbeforestatingit.
“Hey.”OlivertappedmyhandthatwasnearhimandwhenIpulledmygazetohis,hewassmiling.

“Where’dyougo?”

Ilaughedandshookmyhead.“Sorry.IwasthinkingofMelissa.Imissher,Iguess.Wetalkalmost

everyday,butit’snotthesame.”

Hislipstwisted,quirkedupononeside.“What’dshesayaboutme?”
ThequestionthrewmebeforeIrealizedhewasteasing.Iteasedback.“Saidifyouhaveacockas

bigasI’mproclaimingyoudo,I’dbethebiggestfoolintheworldnottorideitaslongasit’soffered
tome.”

The words flew unbidden from my lips. I blamed the wine I’d chugged. One glass before he’d

evenarrived.Astheblushhitmycheeks,Oliverleanedforwardtogetcloseenoughtowraphishand

aroundmywrist.

Hetuggedmetohim,pullingmeuntilIstraddledhim,carefuloftheleghehadproppedonthe

coffeetable.

“Whatexactlydidyoutellheraboutmybigcock?”Histhumbstrokedtheinsideofmywristand

sentshocksupmyarmtomychest.

I rolled my hips, unable to stop myself. Beneath me, his bulge hardened. “I told her everything.

Everythingyoudotome.Everythingyoumakemedo.Everythingyoumakemefeel.”

His hands dropped to my hips as he groaned. He stilled me, held me against his hard length

betweenus,andmetmyeyes.“AndifIwantmore?IfIthinkwecouldbemore?”

Mylipsparted.“What?”
“Whatwouldyousaytothat?”
I’d come to Raleigh to start over. Being close to Beaux had been my only option after leaving

MelissaandDesMoinesbehind.ThelastthingI’dexpected,twoweeksafterarriving,wasthis.

TomeetOliverPowell.Toendupinhisbed.Ortohavehimkissmethewayhedidthismorning,

angryandadamantthatI’dneversaygoodbyetohimagain.Whenhe’dgonesilentinmyworkroom,
Iwascertainthatwaswhathewasdoingwhenhewalkedawayfromme.Whenhe’dcomebackand
kissedmehardandlong,he’dthrownmeformyfirstrollercoasterloopoftheday.

“I…Idon’tknow.”
I wanted to be honest. I also wanted to think of what I needed. I didn’t want to get lost in his

shadow,forgettingmypassionandmydesire.

“Whatifwedropthetimelinewesetforthandseewhathappens?”
Iwasstillstuckonmylastthought.“Iwon’tstopStampedforyou.”
Hefrowned.“Iwouldneveraskyouto.”
“ThatmeansIcan’tcometoawaygames,orbethereeverytimeyouneedmetocomerunning.”
Hisfrownchangeddirectionandhishandsleftmyhipstopressagainstmycheeks.“Fuckinghell,

Shannon. I wouldn’t demand that shit of you. You have your own business. You don’t think after
seeingittodaythatIwouldn’trespectthat?”

Ididn’tknowwhattothink.IfIwashonest,Iwantedaredoontheentireday.Iwantedtonotfreak

outintheshowerthatmorning.IwantedtodoeverythingdifferentoncewegottoStamped.Iwanted
tobeabletositonhislap,atthatverymomentandnotbeafraidIwouldlosemyselfinhim.

“Youscareme,”Iadmitted,myvoicebreathless.
“Thenwe’reeven.”Heleanedforwardandbroughthislipstomine,nippingatmybottomlipand

thensoothingitwithhistongue.“Becauseyouterrifytheshitoutofme.”

I laughed. He pulled me forward until our foreheads touched. Through his thick, dirty blond

lashes,helookedatme,hishazeleyesswirlingwithamusement.“Istillwanttotrythis.Something
withyou.Somethingwithouttimelinesandrestrictions.Youin?”

Ithrewcautiontothewind.IconsideredMelissa’sadvicefromearlier…ifitmakesyoufeelgood,

makes you laugh and makes you happy, jump in and enjoy the ride. I considered my own feelings,
alongwiththefactthathewasasscared,too.

Iconsideredthefactthatsittinginhislap,Iwasalreadybeginningtogrowheatedandwetinmy

center, longing for him. This morning, I’d gotten him off. I was still sore from last night, but
disappointedI’dfreakedoutbeforehecouldreturnthefavor.

Iconsideredallofit,staringintohiseyes,debatingandmakinghimnervousbythewait,basedon

thewayhisnostrilsflaredandhiseyesdarkened.

Thedoorbellrang,breakingthemoment.

“Yes,”Iwhisperedandtiltedmyheadtobrushmylipsagainsthis.“Yes.Okay.Nodeadlines.”

ChapterFOURTEEN

OLIVER

ItwasallIneededtohear.Sheswungalegovermineandstoodup.
Irolledtoonehipandgrabbedmywalletoutofmybackpocket,handinghercash.“Here.”
“Ialreadyordereditbeforeyougothere.”
Igaveheralook.“Takethemoney,Shannon.YouknewI’dbehereeatingitandI’mguessingyou

boughttwiceasmuchknowingIwascoming.”

“Threetimes,actually.”Shegrinnedandswipedthemoneyoutofmyfingers.“Thankyou.”
Shewiggledherassassheheadedtowardthefrontdoorforthepizza.
Whenthemanwaspaidandtippedwell,shedisappearedintothekitchen.
Shereturnedwiththreelargepizzas,andstackedontopoftheboxeswerepaperplatesandbottles

ofwater.

Imovedtogetuptohelpherwhenshestoppedme.“Don’t.I’vegotitandyouneedtorestyour

ankle.”

Ithadbeensolongsincesomeonehadattemptedtotakecareofme,triedtohelpme,thatIhadto

swallowthesmart-asscomment.

“Thanks,”Imumbledwhenshetookherplacenexttomeonthecouch.
We ate. We talked about her jewelry business, about football and the season. Every time she

offered up an opinion, I realized how much she truly knew the game. She’d studied it, loved it. It
seemedalmostasmuchapartofherasitwastome.

Itonlyincreasedmyattractiontoher.SinceSerenahadwalkedoutonme,angryI’dtossedherto

thesideforadreamI’dhadsincebeforeIeveraskedheroutinhighschool,Ihadn’tmetawoman
like Shannon. Most of the conversations I’d had with women over the last several years revolved
aroundmymusclesandthewaymyasslookedintightfootballpants.

Ididn’tknowwomenlikeShannonexisted.EverylayerIpeeledback,everytimeIdugdeeper,I

continuedtobepleasantlysurprised.

She knocked me sideways and upside down as we watched ESPN highlights of the night’s

preseasongames.SheyelledandcursedwhenBeaux’soldteamwon.

“Whatthehell?”Iasked,surprisedbyheroutburst.
MyhandcurledintohershoulderandIpulledhercloser.Iwantedherthere.Lovedherenergyand

herinabilitytoholdbackanythingshewasfeeling.

“Ican’thelpit,”shesaid,bouncingontheedgeofthecouch.“Iwantedthemtolose.”
“Typicalgirl,”Isaid,pullinghersoshefellagainstmychest.Theiceonmyanklewaslonggone.

I’dicedandresteditandIwastiredofit.“Alwaysholdingagrudge.”

Sheslappedmyabs,andIgrabbedherhandwithmyotherone,holdingheragainstme.“Shutup.I

can’t help it. They let him go and they could have used him and now their old quarterback doesn’t
haveadecentbackup.”

Ilaughedandpressedmylipsagainstthetopofherhead,inhalingthesweetscentofhershampoo.

“Yeah,butthenhewouldn’tbehere,inRaleighandstarting.”

Sherelaxedinmyarms—herfingerstrailingcirclesonmyabs.Thelightteasingtouch,thescent

ofher,thefeelandtheweightofherallrolledthroughme,sparkingandignitinginterestanddesire
forher.

“Where’syourroom?”IaskedwhentheattractionbetweenuspulledtightandIdidn’twanttowait

anylonger.“ToldBeauxIwouldn’tfuckyouonhiscouch.”

“Ohmygosh.”Shegroanedandburiedherfaceintomychest.Hershouldersshookwithmuffled

laughter.“Youtalkedaboutme?Inthelockerroom?”

Iwasn’tgoingtogetintoit.Notallofit.
“Hesimplysaidnofuckingonhisfurniture.”
“ThebedI’msleepingonishis.”Shegrinnedwhenshepulledback.
I was already pushing to my feet, bringing her with me until her legs were wrapped around my

hipsandmyhandswereholdingherbyherass.

“Semantics.Ialsosaidwewouldn’twaitupforhim.”
“OhmyGod.I’mnevergoingtobeabletoshowmyfacearoundtheteamagain.”
“Hey.” I walked her toward the room she gestured to and kicked the door open. “Does it bother

you?Yougottaknowsometimesshitgetsflungaround,butbetweenmeandBeaux,noone’sgoingto
sayshittoyou.Andiftheydo,we’llhandleit.”

Shepressedherhandagainstmycheekandherfingertipsplayedwiththehairaboveandbehind

myear.Shealwaysdidthat—foundawaytotouchmesogentlythatitdrovemetodistraction.

I wanted hard fucking, nails digging into skin, grips so tight they bruised, and yet she was the

sweettomyspice,thelighttomydark.EverytimeIwantedtodirtyherup,shemademewanttoslow
downandrelishthemomentatthesametime.

Sofuckingdifferentfromthelastsixyears.
Ileanedintohertouchwhileshepressedherlipstomyjaw.“Idon’tcarewhattheysay.”
Thank fuck. I didn’t want to have to promise to kick my teammates’ asses, but I would if it

botheredher.Beauxwouldbackmeup,too,unlesshewastheonetakingthefirstswing.

Ibentforwardandlaidherdownonthebed.Sheclungtome,notlettingmego,andpulledme

downontopofher.

“Iloveyourweightonme,”shesaid,herhandsslidingdownmyshirtuntilshepushedherfingers

beneaththewaistbandofmyshorts.“Andthisbutt.”

IburiedmyfaceintohershoulderandpushedherfurtherupthebeduntilIcouldkneelonit.“Get

themoffme.Andmyshirt.”

I lifted my hips long enough for her to push my shorts down before I kicked them off, then I

rolledusuntilshestraddledmeandhelpedherwithmyshirt.

Herfingerswerecoolonmyskinasshedraggedthemuptheplanesofmystomach,thecurvesof

mychest.

“You’resohard,”shewhispered,hereyesglazedoverwithadmiration.
Iworkedonmybodybecauseitneededtobethebestitcouldbeatallpossiblemoments,notforit

to be admired. With Shannon’s hands dragging through my chest hair, brushing across my nipples,
light,teasing,andexploratorytouches,IwasfuckingthankfulIdidn’thaveadeskjobwhereIdidn’t
havetoworksohard.

“Stop teasing me.” I groaned as her hand dipped across my lower abs, one fingernail trailing

throughthehairjustabovemywaistband.

She scraped her nail across the edge of the waistband to my boxers and my hips jerked in

response.

“Fuckingtouchme,Shannon.Wrapyourhandaroundmydick.”
She peered up at me through hooded eyes, her untamed hair draping a curtain around us. “In a

hurry?”

“To feel your hot and wet pussy clenching and stretching around my dick? Yes.” I rocked up

again,pressingmydickagainstthecenterofherthighs.

Shemoanedinresponse.
“Takeoffyourclothes.”
Shemadeaclickingsoundwithhertongueandherteeth.“Alwayssobossy.”
“Youlikeit.”
Ididn’twaitforhertofollowmycommand.Isatup,pressingheragainstmylap,andrippedoff

hershirtbeforepullingthecupsofherbrabeneathherbreasts.

Mymouthcoveredoneofhernipplesasmyfingersteasedtheother.Theywerefullinmymouth

andmypalms,spillingoverfromthepressureofherbra.

Her hands immediately went to her shorts and she wiggled out of them, shifting off me while I

keptmymouthonhernipple,tuggingandteasingandsuckingononebeforemovingtotheother.

“MyGod,”shemoaned,herfingersdiggingintomyshoulders.Iheldheragainstme,pressedup

againstherbeforeIpulledherdownandIwasonmyback.

“Rideme.Showmehowyoulikeit.”
Ishovedmyboxersdown,pushingthemoffmyhips,andheldmydick.Shannonmovedoverme

andIsliditthroughherwetness,bothofusgroaning.

“Iwanttoplay,”shewhimpered.
“Playlater.FuckmenowbeforeItakeoveranddoitforyou.”
Hereyesnarrowedonme,thehazeoflustcloudingtheirritationshewastryingtofake.
Whenshedidn’tmoveIgrabbedherhips,andinonehard,forcefulthrustIseatedherallovermy

dick.

“No condom. Fuck!” I groaned and pushed my head back to the pillow. I couldn’t move her off

me.Theslickenedheatofherenvelopedme—coveringmeandcoatingmewithherwetness.

I rocked my hips up, pressing her further against me. God, she was incredible. When her hips

rolled and her thighs began to shake, I had to fight the urge to come like a teenager losing his
virginity.“Igettestedbeforetheseason.I’mclean,Iswearit.”

Wouldyoushetrustmeenoughtohaveherbare?WhenIsawthequickflashoffearinhereyes,I

bitdownthedisappointment.

Shewasalreadyleaningoverme,reachingforthenightstanddrawer.
“Ihaveabox.”
“Shit,”shemutteredasIteasedherclitwithmythumbtokeepherwet.Herfingersfumbledwith

theplasticwrappingbeforeshebititandtoreitwithherteeth.“Forgothowbigofapainintheass
theseboxesare.”

Anylingeringdisappointmentathernottrustingmewouldhaveevaporatedwiththatsentence,that

it’dbeenawhileforher.Thatshehadn’tbeenwithamansinceherex.

“You’regoingtohurtyourteeth.”Ismiled,unabletostopit.Wheninthehellhadsexbeensofun?

Iimagineditwasn’tthatoften,forthatmanypeople.

“Finally.”Shetoretheboxopenandyankedoutastrip,rippingoneopen.Mythumbcontinuedto

pressandrollaroundherclitandshefumbledagainwhenIpulledheroffme.

“Putiton.”Myvoicehadgonegravelly.Needy.

Asherhandsliddownmycock,shetuggedandpulledbeforeIpushedintoherhandandgrowled

again.“Fuckingnow,Shannon.”

She looked up at me and grinned before sliding back down on my dick until I was seated balls

deepinsideher.

Thankfuck.“Good.Nowfuckmelikeyoumeanit.”
Shetookthechallengeasintendedandbeganslidingupanddownonmydick,rollingherhips.I

pulled her against me, her breasts brushing my chest, and dug one hand in her hair as I fucked her
back,takingcontrol.Itwasn’tmystyletofollowsomeoneelse’slead.

Thesoundofherfleshslidingagainstminedrovemewildandmyhipsbuckedagainsther,faster

andharderwhileoneofmyhandswenttoherass,pressingherdownagainstmewhenIpushedinto
her.

Ifuckedherhard,unabletoslowdown,unabletotakemytime.Everytimesherockedagainstme,

herpussyclenchedaroundmydick.

Herwhimpersincreased,grewclosertogetherasItookhertotheedgeandthenbackedoff,not

wantingittoendyet.

Iwantedtodriveherascrazyasshemademefeel,bothinsideandoutsidethebedroom.
“Fuckinghell,”Igroaned.“You’resofuckinghotaroundmydick.”
I’d been bare before, but not often. The heat I now missed around my dick made me curse the

rubberfuckersIneverwantedtouseagain.

“So close, Oliver.” Her lips parted and she pressed them to mine. I sucked her tongue into my

mouthassheslidtowardtheedgealloveragain,andthistimeIdidn’tslowdown.

Mythrustsincreased.Myfingertipsonherassslidtohercreaseandshebuckedagainstmeasmy

fingerspressedagainstherpuckeredhole.

“Holyshit.”Shegasped.“Whatthehell?”
“You’lllikeit,”Iassuredher,watchinghereyesrollbackasIcontinuedteasingherwithgentle

ministrations. “Someday I’ll take your ass and you’ll fucking love it. You’ll come harder than you
everhavebefore.”

Sheshookherhead.Notinargument,butbecauseshewasgoingwildwithpleasure.
“Come,Shannon.I’llmakeitfeelgood.”
“Ohshit…damn…yes…please,Oliver.”
As her body began to clench around me, her pussy spasming with the beginning rolls of her

orgasm,Ibitbackmyowngrowlandpressedthetipofmyfingerinsideherasshole.

Herbodybuckedwildlyasshethrewherheadback.“Oliver!Holyshit,I’mcoming!”
Ifuckedbothherholes,gentlypressingagainstherassatthesametimeIpulledherpussyagainst

me.Iheldonfortheride,takingherovertheedgeagainandagain,notrelentinginmyfuckinguntil
she’dscreamedsoloudhervoicewenthoarseandherbodywentlimp.

I pulled her off me, grabbed her hand, and made her help me yank off the condom before I

wrappedourhandsaroundmydick.Ishotmyloadallovermystomach,coatingourhandsandour
fingers.

Coatingher.
“Fuck,”Igroanedasherhandcontinuedpumpingeverylastdropofmycumoutofmydick.
My chest was covered in sweat—it dripped along my hairline and I was breathless when she

finallycollapsednexttome.Ourlegsstayedtangledtogetherandherhandrestedonmystomach.

“I liked that,” she whispered, her body boneless and liquid at my side. “When you pressed your

fingerintome.”

Iturnedmyheadandbrushedmylipsagainsthercheek,tenderly,exactlytheoppositeofhowI’d

justfuckedherandwouldagainlater.“You’lllikeitmorewhenIhavemydickinthere.”

Hereyeswidenedandshelookeddownatourhandsstillconnected.Stillcoveredinmycum.“It’s

reallybig.”

“I’ll make it good for you, stretch you, take my time. You’ll come all over my mouth and my

fingersbeforeIeverputmydickinyou.”

“Sosureofyourself.”
Always.Iwasacocky,arrogantasshole.SinceIstartedhighschool,confidencehadneverbeena

problemforme.IknewwhatIwasgoodatbecauseIworkedforit,soIdidn’tfeeltheneedtodefend
myselftoher.

I’dproveitsoonenough.
“We’llgetyouaplug,”Iwhispered.
Herbodyshookasashiverrolledthroughher.GoosebumpsburstontoherarmandIsmiled.
“Youlovethatidea,don’tyou?Sofuckingfilthyforme.”
Shewassilentforamomentbeforeshebegankissingmychest.“Yeah.Iliketheidea.”
Islidmyhanddownherbackandpattedherbackside.“Weneedtogetcleanedupbeforethisdries

alloverus.”

Shelaughedandpushedoffme.Asshemovedtoslideoffme,ItuggedherbackdownsoIcould

kissher.

I kissed her slowly, tenderly. I kissed her with all the gentleness in the world, taking my time to

explorehermouth.

Shewassweet,pliableinmystrongarms.Whenshepushedback,hercheekswereflushedandher

eyesshowedeverythingshewasthinking.Theyshoweddesiremixedwithapprehension.

Igrinned.“Thankyouforgivingmethischance.”
“Thanksforfuckingmesowell.”
I laughed as she rolled off the bed, watching her when she went to the connected bathroom and

turnedonthesink.

Shecamebackwithawashclothandplaceditonmystomach.
Itookovercleaningus.“Shower?”
“Yourankleokayenough?”
Irolledmyeyes.“Myankle’sfine,andI’mstrongenoughtofuckyouintheshower,puttingall

myweightonitifyoudon’tstopactingsoworried.”

“Suchanasshole.”Shewinkedandgrabbedthewashclothfromme.
I jumped out of bed and grabbed her from behind, pulling her off her feet as she squealed in

surprise.

ThenItookherintotheshoweranddidallthethingstoherI’dwantedtodothatmorningbefore

sheranfromme.

ChapterFIFTEEN

SHANNON

Ipressedmyhandtotheheadboard,themovekeepingOliverfrompushingmetowardthefront

ofthebed.Ithadtheaddedbenefitofmakingmethrustbackagainsthimeverytimehepushedinto
me.

Onhiskneesbehindme,minepressedtogetherinbetweenhisthighs,thetightenedspacemadehis

dickfeelbigger.He’dwokenmewithhismouthallovermypussy,eatingmelikeIwasthebreakfast
he’dbeenstarvingfor,beforeheflippedmeoverwhileIwasstillcomingandpushedinsideofme,
already prepared with a condom like he’d taken his time getting ready before he ever began eating
me.

Whenhewasseateddeepinsideme,hepushedmylegsclosed,makingmecomeagainfromthe

tightsensation.

“Come on, Shannon. Again.” I’d already come twice. Once the night before. I wasn’t sure I had

anotheroneinme.

Ipantedquietly,bitingmytonguetokeepfromshoutingout.“Oliver…please…”
Hishandwrappedaroundmystomachandplayedwithmyclit,andhisotherhandcurledaround

my shoulder. He had me completely restrained, completely held immobile for him except for the
pressureIcouldputonhisheadboard.

Ithrewmyheadbackashethrusthishipsagainstmefast,morepowerfully.Hedidn’tstopuntilI

wasscreamingalloveragain,gaspingforbreathasmyeyelidsslammedshut.Myorgasmtookme
overtheedgewithadeep,slowburnthatwasn’tanylesspowerfulthanit’dbeenearlier.

“Oliver.”
“Fucking hell.” He thrust into me, taking his hand off my clit and clamping it around my hip to

holdmestillwhilehechasedhisownorgasm,pumpingintomewithaprecisionandpowerIwould
thinkhe’dreserveforthefootballfieldbeforeheletloosehisowngroan.Hepushedmeforwardso
hardwebothcollapsedintothebed.Hisforeheadrestedagainstthebackofmyheadandhisgroan
mademyscalptingle.“Shannon,holyshit,honey.”

Itrembledattheendearmentthatfellfromhislips.
Whenhe’dcaughthisbreathheslowlypulledout,rolledmeover,andpressedhislipstomine,

ignoringthefactthatIhadalwayshatedmorningbreathandsweat.“Goodmorning.”

“Mornin’,”Imutteredagainsthislips.
Hegavemeasqueezebeforeherolledoffmeandheadedtowardthebathroom.“Whendoyou

needtoleave?Doyouhavetosetupyourbooththismorning?”

I brushed my hair off my face, reality setting in. Based on the light from behind the closed

curtains, I had to get moving. It was the second day of the street fair and yesterday had been crazy
busy,biggerandbetterthananythingIcouldhaveimagined.

LastnightwhenI’dfinishedclosingeverythingup,I’dmethimatthehotelfordinnerandended

upstaying.

“Yeah.” I sighed and stretched my well-abused limbs. I had my hands above my head, pressing

againsttheheadboardandmybodyinalong,leanlinewhenhewalkedoutofthebathroom.

“Someday,I’mgoingtotieyoutothebed,justlikethatandfuckyoutillyoucan’ttakeanymore.”
Myhipsrolled,jumpingatthethought.Olivercaughtitandthensworebeforeturningbacktothe

bathroom,groaningandpressinghisfingerstohiseyes.

“What are you doing?” I asked, pushing myself to sitting and swallowing a groan. My muscles

were uncomfortable and tight, a combination of sitting in the heat all day yesterday and the athletic
sexsessions.

“Takingoutmycontacts.Ikeepfuckingfallingasleepinthemandmyeyesarekillingme.”
Hewore…glasses?
I jumped from the bed, grabbing a shirt I’d tossed to the floor before, and met him in the

bathroom.Hesplashedmorewateronhisfacebeforehepatteditdrywithatowelandremovedapair
ofglassesfromthedrawernexttohim.

Andholyshit.Itchangedthelookofhim.Tookhimfrommonstrous,sexyfootballplayertosexy,

forgetfulprofessorinaheartbeat.

Mylipsparted.“You’regoingtohavetofuckmewiththoseon.”
Hiseyescrinkledandhemetmygazeinthemirror.Heranahandthroughhishair,messingup

theshaggytopandmakingitwilder.“What?”

AgazillionfantasiesflashedinmymindandInodded,breathlessasIanswered.“Oh.Yeah.”
“You’llgetyourwish.Tonight.”Heturnedthenandpressedhislipstomycheek.“ButIcan’thave

youlateforthefestivaltoday,andIhavepractice.I’llmeetyouinthekitchenonceyou’redressed,so
getmoving.”

Ihurried.Thepromiseoftonightsparkedallsortsofwickedthoughtsinmyhead.

***

Thesunbeatdownonmyshouldersdespitethetentcoveringoverhead.Itwasgoingtotakeme

months,ifnotyears,togetusedtotheconstantheatthatmadethepavementsohotthatitsteamedall
daylong.

Thecrowdwaspackedalongthestreet,vendorssetalongthecurbsoftheartsdistrictFestivallike

weweresardines.

Iwashotandsweaty.Iwasmiserablefrombeinginthesunforthelasttwodays.
Iwasalsohavingthetimeofmylife.
MyjewelrywassellingfasterthanIhadthoughtpossible.I’dmadeenoughmoneyinthelasttwo

days alone to begin to set aside a decent amount to continue not only making more jewelry, but to
beginpayingBeauxbackforthepaidleaseonmybuilding.

AweekfromWednesday,myfurniturewouldarrivefromIowaandIcouldfinallymoveintomy

ownplace.

The past week had been insanely busy while the Rough Riders had been preparing for another

preseason game coming up the next day. They were preparing to play last year ’s Super Bowl
champions, and Oliver and Beaux had both spent the week acting like this preseason game was the
AFCChampionshipgame.

NotthatIcouldblamethem.TheSeahawkshadbeatentheRoughRidersinthefinalplayoffgame

last year, pushing them toward their Super Bowl win. The men—the entire team, it sounded like—

wereoutforblood,andBeaux’snaturalcompetitiveinstinctswantedtobetheonetotakethemthere.

IhadbarelyseenOliverallweeklong,butthenightbeforehe’dstoppedbyStamped,insistingI

stop working after I’d been at the street fair all day and was still burning the midnight oil, making
morejewelrytohaveabiggerselectiontosellonthetwofollowingdays.

Myfingerswereblisteredandsore,myhandscrampedfromthework.
Iwasstillsmiling,handingoutbusinesscards,lettingeveryonewhostoppedbyknowofmynew

businessthatwouldhaveitsgrandopeningintwoweeks,justbeforethefirsthomegameofthereal
season.

Melissawasflyingoutforit,andIcouldn’twaittoseeher,butIalsocouldn’twaittoshowoffmy

newhome,mynewlife…mynewman.

Igrinnedatthethoughtasasmallclusterofwomensloweddownandapproachedmytable.
Theywhisperedtheirappreciationofthejewelryasoneofthewomenpickeduponeoftheleather

braided cuff bracelets. Those had yet to sell. A part of me still didn’t like the way Oliver had
mentionedthatafriendofhiswouldlovethem,andthendroppeditwithoutexplainingwhoitwas.

Notthatitshouldhavemattered—inthepastweekhe’dshownmethatwhenhedecidedtogoallin

forarelationship,toseewhathappenedwithoutatimelineendingthings,hewasreallygoodatit.

Itwasn’tjustinbed,either.Onthenightswedidn’tseeeachother,hecalledandcheckedin.We

didn’ttalklong,buthestillmadetheeffort—somethingthatsurprisedme.Buthewasshowingme,
slowly,thathewastheguyI’dseenbeneaththehardlayerofarroganceheeasilyworelikeawell-
tailoredcoat.

He was the guy I’d seen whispering to his horses, taking care of them, and being at ease on the

farm.

NotthatI’dbeenbackthere.Theweekbeforewe’dspentmostofthetimeathiscrashpadandnot

hishome,needingtobeoutoftheapartmentwhenBeauxwasaround.

BeauxmighthavebeenokaywithmedatingOliver,butIcertainlywasn’tgoingtoforcehimto

hearaboutitatallhours.

“These are beautiful,” one of the women said, lifting a set of copper-colored bangles and

inspectingthecharmsoneach:love,faith,hope,peace,kindness…Theysparkledfromthesunhitting
thembeforesheplacedthembackdown.“Youmakeallofthese?”

“Ido.”Islidabusinesscardtowardher.“Stampedisthenameofmybusiness.Itopensofficially

intwoweeks,justafewdoorsdownonthissideofthestreet.”

Ipointedtowardtheredbrickbuilding.
Shetookthecardandsmiledatme.Shewouldn’tbuytoday,butIknew,basedonthesmileonher

face,thatshe’drememberme.Thewayshegentlyseemedtobrushherfingeralongthecoppertold
meshewasbeinggenuine.

“Theseareimpressive,truly.Iloveeverysingleoneofthem.”
“Serena,”anotherwoman’svoicecalledtoher.“Youhavetocomehere.”
The woman jerked her head, and I frowned at the mention of her name. I’d heard it before, but

couldn’tremember.

“Whatisit?”sheasked,turningherhead.Herfacepaledasthecrowdseemedtopartbehindher.
MylipsspreadintoawidegrinasBeauxandOliverandthreeothermentoweredovermostofthe

otherpatrons.Theirbulkandtheirheightmadetheirpresencenoticeabletoeveryonearoundthem.

Beaux was grinning, laughing at something someone behind him had said, when Oliver ’s eyes

metminebeforenarrowingonthewomaninfrontofme.

“Whatinthefuckareyoudoinghere?”Hepracticallysnarled,proppinghishandsonhishipsas

hewalkedstraightuptoher.“Whatshitareyoupullingnow,Serena?”

Shesmiledsweetly,adifferentsmilefromtheoneshe’dgivenmeearlier.IfIwasn’tmistaken,she

alsopushedheramplebreastsforwardandcockedherhip.“Oliver.Sogoodtoseeyouagain.How
areyou?”

“Cuttheshit,Serena.WhatareyoudoingtalkingtoShannon?”
Herheadwhippedbackbeforesheturnedtome,thatcattysmilestillinplace.“Howdoyoutwo

knoweachother?YouknowOliver?Myhusband?”

Mymouthopenedandclosedwithnowordsescaping.IflashedwideeyestoOliver.
“Ex,”hegrowledanddidn’tlookatme.“Andourmeetingwiththelawyersisn’tuntilMonday,so

whatareyoudoinghere?”

“Can’tagirlcometotowntovisitfriends?Idohavethem,youknow.”
Amusclejumpedinhischeek,makinghislipstwist.“Leave.Now.”
Shewalkeduptohim,andIcurledmyhandsintofists.Iwantedtoreachoutandtellhertostop,

butIwasfrozensolid.

He jerked away, pushing Rudolph back a step. He had the same scowl on his face Oliver and

Beauxhad.

“Don’ttouchme.Youlostthatrightandyouknowit.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but not so quiet I couldn’t still hear her. “I’m sorry for everything.

Forhurtingyouandleavingyou.I’msorryIwastooyoungtobeabletohandleeverythingwewent
through.ButifI’mhonest,I’mgladIranintoyou.WasgoingtocallyoubeforeMonday.I’dliketo
gettogetherandtalk.Seeifwecanmaybesetsomeofthisangerbetweenusaside?I’vemissedyou,
Oliver.”

Hervoicesoftenedfurther,almostpleading.Itwasgentleandsweetandsoundedlikeabeautiful

song—onethatmademewanttovomit.

Oliverswallowed.Theworldseemedtoshakebeneathmyfeetwhenhelookedather,something

inhiseyesshiningthatIhadn’tseenbefore—notdirectedatme,anyway.

Thiswashisex-wife.Essentiallythrowingherselfathim.Andhewasstandingthereconsidering

it.

Hesteppedbackthen,lookedoverhershoulder,andavoidedmygaze.“I’llseeyouMonday.”
She licked her lips and stepped back, turning to me as she did. The wounded expression in her

lightbrowneyesevenedoutasshecaughtmygaze.

“Itwaslovelytomeetyou,Shannon.HowdoyouknowOliver?”
“ThenewquarterbackfortheRoughRiders,Beaux,ismybrother,”Iexplained,mymouthfeeling

parchedandthick.

Behindher,Oliverdidn’targue.Hedidn’tsayathing.Hedidn’ttellherthatIwaswithhimnow,

orthathe’dmovedonfromher.

Ithurtmorethanitshouldhave.Morethanithadtherightto.WhenSerena’sgazetraveledover

myfaceandthenlowerbeforeshelookedmebackintheeyes,somethinglikereliefshinedinthem.
“Oh.Thatmakessensethen.Hopefullywe’llbeseeingmoreofeachothersoon.”

Still,Oliversaidnothing.Didnothing.Didn’ttellhershewaswrong,orthatshewasoutsideher

ever-lovingmindifhethoughtforonesecondI’dhaveanythingtodowithherandwhy.

Icouldn’trespondtoher,andshedidn’twaitformeto,anyway.Instead,shewavedmycardinthe

airbeforeslidingitintoherpurseandtellingmeshe’dseemesoon.

Oliverturnedandwatchedherwalkaway.
Conflict darkened his hazel eyes when he scrubbed a hand down his face. “We need to talk,

Shannon.”

An ice cold shiver rolled through me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I’m

busy.”

“Laterthen.”Hedraggedhiseyestominethen,asifhewasforcinghimselftolookatmeinstead

ofwatchinghisex-wifewalkaway.

Ex.Thewordseemedtogrowlouderinsidemymindwitheverypassingmoment.
My lips were too dry to speak, too cracked and chapped. I could only stare at him while Beaux

pushedhimselfthroughthetentuntilhewasnexttome.

Ijumpedwhenheputhishandonmyshoulder,squeezingit.
“Idon’tknowwhenI’llbedone,Oliver.”
Ididn’twanttotalktohim.Ididn’twanttohearanyofit.Beauxstoodnexttome,radiatingthe

needtoprotectme,butIdidn’twantthateither.

Iwantedtogobacktothismorning—ortwoweeksagowhenOliverandIhadmet,andIwanted

todoeverythingdifferent.Thelookhe’djustgivenSerenawasn’tthelookofamanwhowasover
hiswife,butalookthatscreamedhestilllovedher,stillwantedher,andwouldtakeherifgiventhe
chance.ThefactthatBeauxseemedtopickuponitasquickasIhadmadeitmoreobvious.Notto
mentionhumiliating.

“Callmewhenyou’redonehere?”
Itwasn’tsomuchaquestion,butademand.
When I nodded, he lifted his gaze to Beaux’s and then looked at Rudolph. “I need to go,” he

muttered,pushingpastRudolph.

“Powell,”hecalledout,butOliverdidn’tturnaround.Hedidn’tlookback.
He just followed the same path Serena had taken moments before, like a man trailing after the

womanhe’dlostonceandrefusedtoloseagain.

“Shit.”Rudolphgroanedandranahandthroughhishair.“Igottagogethim.Seeyoulater?”
HelookedatBeaux,andIassumedhenodded,butIdidn’thearifhesaidanything.Bloodrushed

throughmyveinsasIsatthere,frozen,wonderingwhatinthehellhadjusthappened.

ChapterSIXTEEN

SHANNON

I turned off the electric handsaw and rubbed my eyes, squeezing them closed. It was late and I

knewI’dbeeninmyworkroomforhours,butIcouldn’tstopworking.

Ihadtostaybusy.Afterthefestivalhadended,I’dpackedeverythingupandcloseddown.Ishould

havebeengratefulfortheamountofsalesandnewcontactsI’dmade,andIwas,butIwasalsostill
thinkingofthemomentOliverhadturnedtome,adistanceineyeslikehedidn’treallyseeme,and
thenwalkedaway.He’dhurriedafterhisex-wife,followedherlikehestillwantedher.

It stung more than it should have. I was trying to trust a man who not only had a reputation of

beingahugeplayer,amanwhotossedasidewomenafteronlyonenight,butafterI’dbeencheated
on.

Mytrustinmenwasshakyatbest.
Ihadturnedoffmyphonehoursearlier,choosingtoavoidthepossibilityofarealitythatIdidn’t

wanttoface.

Immature?Yes.
Necessarytomymentalhealth?Mostdefinitely.
I had a pair of pliers in my hand, twisting a braided copper design around another wide, dark-

chocolate-coloredleatherband,whenaloudbangsoundedfromthefrontofmybuilding.

I jumped and turned toward my closed office door, dropping the pliers, before I moved to the

counterandgrabbedmyphone.

AsIturnediton,anotherthumphitthedoor,quicklyfollowedbyanother.
Icursedandstaredatmyphone,willingittorestartfasterincaseIneededit,onlytohaveitbegin

blowingupwithtextsandmissedcalls.

AlmostallofthemfromOliver.Threevoicemails.Fourmissedcalls.Seventextmessages,each

onebecomingincreasinglyirritated.

Wanttotalk.Callmewhenyoucan.
Whereareyou?Triedcalling.Callmeback.
Damnit,Shan.Callme.

ThentherewasonefromBeaux.

Hey,fuckingcallOliver.He’stryingtoreachyouandnowI’mworried.Whereareyou?

Dreadsankintomygutasthepoundingincreased.Iopenedthedoortomyofficeonlytohearmy

namebeingbellowed.

ThesightofOliverforcedmybreathtostallinmychestlikeitalwaysdid.Hisonehandfistedand

poundedonmyfrontdoorwhileheshoutedmyname,lookingintomybuilding.

Itwasn’thisragethatIcaughtinhiseyesfirst.ThatcameafterIcouldn’thelpbutnoticetheway

hewasdressedsocasually.Khakigrayshortshungfittedontrimhipsandcurvedaroundhismuscled
thighs. Leather flip-flop sandals showed off perfect calves and feet, and a red-and-blue Captain
America T-shirt, faded with that vintage look, stretched across rolling pecs and abs. A frayed black

hatpulleddownlowoverhiseyessoIcouldjustbarelyseethewispsofhisdirtyblondhairpeeking
outfrombeneathitashepoundedonmybuildingwindowbeneaththestreetlight.

“Wherethehellhaveyoubeen?”heshoutedashesawmefrozeninmyspotinthehallway.
Twoperfectlyarchedbrowsdisappearedbeneaththebillofhishat.
AdrenalinebuzzedinmyearsasIbecameunstuckandhurriedtothefrontdoor,unlockingit.
“What do you want?” It was snippier than intended, less rude than it could have been. Irritation

couldn’tbehiddenatthewayhe’dlitupmyphone,angrythatIwouldhavethenervetoavoidhim
afterthecraphe’dpulledearlier.

“Youdidn’tansweryourphone.”
“Ididn’twanttotalktoyou.”
“Why?” A small head tilt, a very brief look of confusion flashed through his eyes. “I said we’d

talklater.ThatIwantedtoseeyou.”

Myeyeswentwide.Theurgetoslamthedoorinhisfacewasstrong.Iwithheldit,barely.“How

wasSerena?”

“Shit.” His face scrunched up, and with one hand he removed his hat, smoothed back his hair

unnecessarily,andfloppedthecapbackonhishead.“I’dliketotalktoyou.Butdon’tavoidmelike
that.Itmademeworried.”

Hiseyesnarrowed,asiftheadmissioncamebeforehemeantitto,asifhewasn’tusedtogivinga

crapaboutpeople.

Perhapshewasn’t.Hewasgreatinbed.Funtotalkto.Hewasalsostrungtightandintenseandnot

whatanyonewouldevercalllaidback,despitehiscurrentappearance.

“IwouldthinkbythewayIdidn’tanswercallsortextsearlier,you’dgetthehintIdidn’twantthat

tohappen.Thatdoesn’tgiveyoutherighttocomedownhereandbangonmydoor.”

His jaw tightened. “I was worried. When Beaux didn’t know where you were…” Another hat-

removal-hand-swipe.

Asenseofdisgustrolledthroughme.Immaturitywasn’tthewayIwantedtodealwithobstacles.

Neither was running. But staying had never worked out so great for me in the past, either. In all
honesty,Ididn’tthinkI’dhearfromhimatall.

“Comeonin.”Irelentedandmovedback,allowinghimaccesstoStamped.Likethefirsttime,he

wanderedtothedisplaycases,mostofthememptysinceI’dsoldsomuch.Themoreexpensivepieces
wereondisplaybecauseIdidn’tthinktheywoulddowellatastreetfair.Peopletendedtolikeless
expensive things they could pick up while they wandered, so I’d left the larger, more elegant and
intricatedesignsintheircases,showingtheminphotographsinadisplaybook.

Iwastakingthemthenextday—thelastdayoftheshow.I’dhadtoomuchinterest.
“Haveyoubeenworkingallnight?”heasked,dragginghiseyestomine.Theylackedtheanger

hehadcarriedinthemearlier,andnowhelookedtired.

Darkcirclesunderhiseyes,aslightslumptohisshoulders.Themanlookedlikeheneededtogo

tosleepatleastfourhoursago.

Remorseformybehaviorflickereddownmyspine.
“Ican’tgetoverhowtalentedyouare.”
Hispraisewashedovermelikeagentlecaress.“I’msorryaboutmyphone.Iturneditoff,butI

shouldn’thavedonethat.”Iwaveditintheair.“Attheveryleast,it’snotsafe.”

“AndyouwerepissedbecauseItookoffafterSerena.”
Helaiditouttherestraight,nohesitancy,likehehadnothingtohide.
“We’dbeentalkingbeforeyoucameup.Youhadn’tevermentionedher,althoughBeauxtoldme

some. I was waiting for you to bring her up, though. It seemed like something you’d share with
someone...”

Myvoicetrailed.Ihadnoideahowtofinishthatthought.Threeweeksbefore,wewerestrangers;

aweekbefore,we’dendedaridiculoustimeline.Now…Ihadnoideawhatwewereexceptgreatfuck-
buddiesandmaybefriends.

“SomeoneI’minarelationshipwith?”
Hetookasteptowardme,butmyeyesstayedfixedonwherehe’djustbeen.Ifhewasexpecting

metoputthatoutthere,Iwastoovulnerable.Tooafraid.

“Shannon.”
Itwasjustaword,rollingofflusciouslipsthatcouldbefirmandsweet,softandgentle,andhard

anddemanding.Itsoundedlikeasong.

“What?”
“I was going to tell you about her. I didn’t know how. She’s not someone I talk about—like to

thinkabout,forthatmatter.”

He tugged off his hat again, another swipe of his hair. Unable to help myself, I hid a smile.

Apparently,hewasn’ttheonlyonewhoplayedwiththeirhairwhentheywerenervous.

I made it easier for him, stepping aside like I always did. “You don’t owe me anything, or any

explanations.It’snotyourfaultithurtmewhenyouwalkedawaylikethat.”

Lookingsolost,likehejusthadtobewithher.
“That’snotit.It’snotatall,butthestoryislongandtwisted.Areyoudonehere?”
“Yeah.” I wanted to know. I had to know before anything could move forward, if that was the

directionwewereheading.

Plus,I’dbeenkillingtimeinmydeterminationtoavoidhim.
MyphonebuzzedinmyhandandIglanceddown.ItwasBeaux.

Youdon’tfuckingtellmeyou’renotbatteredandbeatenbehindthealleyintwominutes
andI’mcallingthecopsorkickingyourass.
I’malive.

Iquicklytextedback.

Oliverishere.Standdown,cowboy.
Don’tdothattomeagain.Wasworriedsickaboutyou,Sis.

IglancedupatOliver.Hiseyesstillonmine.“Sorry.ThatwasBeaux.Youmadehimworried.”
“Gladsomeoneelsewas.”
It was sick and twisted. I liked knowing he cared enough to worry. When I went out with

girlfriends,IwouldalwaystextPatricktolethimknowwhenIwascominghome.He’dgooutwith
friendsandI’dneverhearfromhim.

Somenightshewouldn’tcomehomeatall.Buthadhebeenalonethosenights?
Ishooktheerrantthoughtawayandsighed.
“Sorry.Again.Itwasimmatureandnotme—Iwasjustangry.AndconfusedthatIdidn’thavethe

righttobe.”

“Of course you do.” His voice tightened and his words clipped staccato sounds. “Fucking hell,

Shannon.I’vebeenfuckingyouforweeks.Don’tyouthinkthatentitlesyoutoatleastsomehonesty?”

Iwouldfigure.Iwasalsonewtothefuck-buddy,dating-reboundstage.
“Fine.Serenathen.”
Heglancedaroundthebuildingandcringed.“Youmightneedtositforthis.”
“Fine.Wecangoupstairs.”

“Toyourplace?Ihaven’tseenityet.”
“Don’tbeimpressed.I’vegotabedandacouch.”
“Two of my favorite things.” He walked straight to me and pressed his hand to my check. “I’m

sorryIpissedyouoffandhurtyou.”

Onlyhonestyshoneinhiseyes.
Inodded.“Letmelockupandwe’lltalk.”

***

“Don’tsayathingabouttheplace,”IwarnedhimasIunlockedtheupstairsdoor.Itwasbeautiful

—hadthepotentialtobebeautiful,anyway.Butatthattime,Ihadn’tboughtanythingnewforitandI
waswaitingtogeteverythingfromthemoversthefollowingweek.TheonlythingI’dstockedwas
thefridgewithsnackswhileIwasworking,paperplates,andbottlesofwater.“Ihaven’tdoneathing
withityet.”

I was planning on painting walls the next week, before the furniture showed up, so there were

paintsamplestapedalloverthewalls.

Oliver ’seyeswenttothosefirst,andhepressedhislipstogetherattheemptyspace.
“You weren’t kidding,” he said, walking into the open area, shock in his features. “You didn’t

mentionthekitchentable,buttherereallyisonlyacouch.”

“Bed’sinoneoftherooms.”
Heshotmealookthatcurledmytoes.
“Doyouwantsomewater?It’sallIhave.I’vegotsnacks,too,ifyou’rehungry,butnotmuch.”
“No.” He walked toward me and reached for my hand. It was in his palm before I could pull it

back.“Stopblabbering.Thisisn’tbad.”

He laughed softly and pulled me toward the couch. I’d draped a sheet over it—something I

pilfered from Beaux’s place because the couch was old and gross. Oliver gave me a look before
sittingonit,andIlaughedharder.

“Iknow.It’snasty.Mythingsarecomingnextweek,though.ThenI’llbeallmovedin.”Ispread

myarmsouttotheopenlivingspace.Theexposedbrickwallsandductworkmadeitseemmorelike
a loft-style building, but I loved the character. The doorways were wide and curved, and all the
baseboardsandwoodfloorswereoriginalandafterapolishingwouldbeinexcellentcondition.

“Ilikeit.Itsuitsyou.”
Iwastoonervoustoaskwhathemeantbythat.
He took his hat off and tossed it to the floor, then leaned to the side so he could face me fully

beforeheletmyhandgo.

“Serena,”hesaidwithagroanandwipedhishandoverhismouth.“God,Idon’tknowwhereto

begin.Ihaven’ttalkedaboutherinsolongwithanyonebutmylawyers.”

“Beauxtoldmeyou’dlovedher.Thatyoudidn’tstartactinglikeadickuntilsheleftyou.”
“Yeah,well,”hehuffed.“That’swhathappenswhenthewomanyouthinkyou’llbewithforever

walksoutonyou.”

Igavehimtimeandexcusedmyselftogetsomewater.Icamebackcarryingtwobottles,andwhen

hedidn’tseemtonoticeIwasofferingonetohim,Isetitonthefloor.

“Wewerehighschoolsweethearts.Starteddatingwhenwewerefifteen.Seemslikeforeverago

andyesterdayatthesametime,youknow?”Hedidn’tlookatme,didn’tseemlikehereallywanteda

response, and he continued talking before I could, so it didn’t matter. His eyes glazed over and he
staredathishandswhenhewasn’trunningthemthroughhishairordownhisface.

“WegrewupinasmalltownoutsideSavannah.Allwewantedwastogotocollegeandgetoutof

thattownandmakesomethingofourselves.ShewantedtoseetheworldandIwantedtoplayfootball.
AndIlovedher.God,Ilovedher.Shehasthisenergy,thiswildandfranticenergythatpullsyouto
her immediately. I was wrapped up in her, wrapped up in football, and she swore she’d follow me
anywhere. Worse, I believed her. I proposed to her the night I was drafted, after we got back to the
hotel,andweweremarriedinmyparents’backyardbeforeIhadtostarttheseason.”

His voice had softened and his eyes became so glazed that I doubted he even knew I was in the

room. The familiar burn of jealousy—that after so many years he still looked like that when he
thoughtofher—begantoflame,twistingmystomach.

“Whathappened?”
Hemadeachokingsoundandpulledhiseyesstraighttome.“Raleighhappened.”
Mybrowfurrowed.“What?”
“We’dbeeninNewEnglandbeforehere.Havingthetimeofourlives.Newlyweds,exploringthe

bigcities,traveling,partyingituplikewealwayswantedto,andthenIwastradedtoRaleigh.”

“Idon’tgetit.”
“That’s because you don’t give a shit about where you live, I suspect, but Serena…she wanted

lightsandactivityandshoppingandsheneverwantedtoreturntotheSouth.Shehatedit.Ayearafter
beingupNorth,shestartedtryingtoforgeteverythingaboutwherewecamefrom.Bitchedaroundthe
holidayswhenIwantedtogohomeandseeourfolksandfriends.Ididn’twantthatstufftochangeus,
butshewaschangedbythefantasybeforeIevergotapaycheck.Shewantedthehighlife—thecondos
inthecityandthevacationhomesinGreece.Raleigh…thatwastoobigofastepdownforher.”

“Sheleftyouoverit?”
He pinned me with a look that went straight to my stomach, icy and splashing out the burn of

jealousyfromearlier.“SaidIhadtogetadifferentcontractsomewhereelseorshewasleaving.Said
thatitshouldn’tmattertomeanyway,sinceIwasneverhome.Shedidn’tgiveashitaboutfootball,or
mydreams,orthefactthishadalwaysbeenourplan.Icouldkeepourplaceinthecityandjusttravel
backandforth.ItoldherwewereafamilyandIwantedherwithme.Thatsheknewhavingtomove
whenIwastradedwaspartofthedealshe’dagreedtowhenweweremarried.ButIhadn’tthoughtof
it as a deal, just something we would always do together. She said I either stayed or kept the place,
foundawaytokeepherwhereshewashappy,orshewasgone.”

“Andsheleft.”
“Yeah.”Helaughedandshookhishead.“Withhalfmymoneyforagrandtotalofsixyears.”
Myeyesjumpedopen.Hissalarywaspublicknowledge.EvenIknewhowmuchhe’dmade.She

tookhalf?“Youweremarriedthreeyears!”

“Together eight. We hadn’t even been married for three years before she filed and I came to

Raleigh. But I just wanted to make her happy, I guess. I don’t even know. She asked for what she
wanted,mylawyertoldmenotto,butIcouldn’ttellherno.I’dneverbeenabletotellhernountilI
saidIcouldn’tstayinthecitywithher.Ididn’tevenlikeitthere.SheknewI’dmissedhome.Shejust
didn’tcare.Theworstwasthatthenightsheleft,shetoldmeshe’dalwayshatedfootball,justusedme
togetoutofoursmalltownandknewitwouldhappen.Shefeltlikeshe’dinvestedenoughofherlife
and now she deserved everything she’d asked for. I should have realized all of that when she quit
comingtomygamesaftermyfirstseasoninNewEngland.”

“That’s…”Isputtered,unabletothink.“That’sabsurd!”

“Yeah,well,hersupportisalmostupandguesswho’sbroke?”
Myeyeswidened.“She…what?”Ishrieked.
Threeandahalfmilliondollarsayear,minimum,andshe’dblownitall?
“Howisthathumanlypossible?”
He flashed me a dumbfounded grin and shook his head. “I have no earthly idea. She’s currently

fightingtoextendthesupport.”

“You’refightingherthistime,though,right?”
“I’mcuttingheroff,andsheknowsit.She’spissed.Today’sdisplaywasawayforhertogetwhat

shewantedadifferentway.”

HislipcurledandIsatback.Wow.I’dmetwomenlikethis.I’dseenithappenatbarsandafter-

gamepartiesandintheboxsuiteswheremostwivesandgirlfriendswatchedthegames.Serenahad
seemedsogenuinelysweetwhenIfirstmether,Ineverwouldhavepeggedherasoneofthewomen
likethat.

“Whenyoufollowedher,youlookedlike…”
I couldn’t finish the thought. Just remembering the way he’d chased after her, looking so lost,

mademystomachroll.

“LikeIlovedher?”
Inodded.
“She’samemory,Shannon.Shewasalsoapartofmeformostofmylife.Highschool,college,

mydraft…football.Everything.She’swrappedupinallofit.Ican’ttakethatback.Igrewintoaman
with her. And I can’t lie and say that when I found out what she’d been doing all along I wasn’t
wrecked.Iwas.Foralongtime.I’mnotsurewhenIquitcaringaboutheratall,butIknowIdid.I
wentafterhertodaytogivehertheattentionshewantedandtomakeitclearthatshe’dneverseeme
ormymoneyagain.”

Iunderstoodsomuchofwhathewassaying.Hearinghimconfirmit,atleasttellmeheknewhe

wasoverher,helped.

Weallcamewithbaggage.Mine—mostlyfromPatrick—waslosingtrustinwhatseemedsogood.
“I might have been projecting some of my own insecurities onto you this afternoon after what

happened,”Iadmitted.

“I’mnotacheater.”Heleanedforwardandpressedhispalmtomycheek.
Ileanedintohistouch,hisscent,andthestrengthinhishand.
“I never have been. I wouldn’t do that, and I’m not going to lie, it’s not like I didn’t have

opportunity.ButIwasalwaysfaithfultoSerena,andifwehadstayedtogetheritwouldhavebeena
lifetime.I’mnotthatguy.”

“Ibelieveyou.”
Westaredateachotherforseveralmoments,thatfamiliarheatbeginningtoswirlbetweenus.
Myheartbeganbeatingfaster,mypulsealittlebitlouderinmyearswhenheleanedcloser.
“I’mgoingtokissyounow,”hewhispered.“Andyou’regoingtokissmeback.”
Ismiled,apuffofbreathescapingmylips.“I’msorryIgotupsetandignoredyou.”
“I’msorryIwalkedawayfromyouforSerena.Thatwillneverhappenagain.”
His lips met mine then, soft and sweet and slow and absolutely delicious. I melted into him,

pressedmyselftohischestwhenhisotherhandwrappedaroundmybackandpulledmetohislap.

We kissed for hours. And when we fell asleep, curled and entwined together on a lumpy couch,

onlyasheettocoverus,Iwokeupthenextmorningknowingwithcertaintythatthatnighthadbeen
ourbeginning.

ChapterSEVENTEEN

OLIVER

“Oliver.”Accompaniedwithherbreathylittlegasp,IknewShannonwaswakingup,enjoyingthe

ministrationsofmyfingersagainstheralreadyhot,slickflesh.

Always ready for me. Me. Not the football player, because she didn’t give a shit about that. If

anything,thatwasapointagainstme.

It’d been years since a woman had looked at me and seen me. Didn’t see the dollar signs or the

endorsementsorthepotentialphotosinmagazineswithheronmyarm.IneverknewhowmuchI’d
missedituntilthepreviousnight,whenShannonhadlistenedtome,understoodme,andbelievedme
atmyword.

“Good morning.” I pressed my lips along the exposed column of her throat, pushing back her

wild and sexy curls. Goose bumps flared on her skin, following the trail of my mouth. My fingers
continuedteasingher,runningthroughherpussybeforedriftingaway.

Herhipsbeganrolling,herassgrindingagainstmyerection.
Shesaidmynameagain,abreathandapleawrappedupinone.
“I like this,” I whispered as she shivered. Her cheeks were already flushed with want, her lips

partedasshepantedforme.“Likewakingupwithyou,readyandhotforme.”

“Always.”
Hell.Shewassodamnsexy.
“Iwantyou,”Isaid,myvoicegruffwithneed.Iwokeupeverymorning,hardforher.Thefew

nights we spent together weren’t enough. My body wanted hers, all the time. To show her what I
wanted, I began pushing down the yoga pants she still had on from the night before, no underwear
beneaththemasifshe’dbeenwaitingformetheentiretime.Thepreviousnight,Ihadn’ttakenher
like I’d wanted to. I’d kissed her until our lips were raw and we fell asleep, and it was a night I’d
remember forever. Because she came to me, angry and trusting and believing and gave herself so
fully,socompletelywithoutreservation.

Thismorning,she’dtakeeverythingIgaveher.
“Please.”
HergaspsbecamemoansasIpushedherpantstoherkneesandremovedhertop.Iremovedmy

ownclothinguntilweweresettledonthecouch,Shannon’sbackpressedagainstmychest.

My hands roamed her skin, teased her nipples while I rubbed my thumbs over them, and she

gasped and arched into my touch. My fingers pressed inside of her, opening and stretching her for
me.

“Thatfeelssogood.”HerheadpushedbackintomyshoulderandIbegansuckingonthesensitive

fleshofherthroat,tastingandtouchinghereverywhereIcouldfind.

“You’resowet,sotightforme.Doyouwantmycock,Shannon?”
“Yes.”Shepleadedandtwistedherneckuntilherlipswereagainstmine.Itookwhatsheoffered,

rollingusuntilIwasaboveher.Mytongueslidintohermouth,myhandsmovedeverywhereIcould

reach—her cunt, her tits, her nipples as I plucked them. Every time I did, she whimpered into my
mouth.

Ipulledback,slidingontothecouch,andspreadherlegs,openinghertome.Ipushedherwide

openuntiloneofherlegshitthefloorandtheotherwasdrapedoverthebackofthecouch.God.So
fuckingbeautiful.Herwet,pinkcuntswollenandpulsingforme.

“You’resofuckingdelicious.Iwanttotasteyoueverywhere,allofthetime.”Mylipstraileddown

thelengthofherbodyuntilIreachedherneatlyshavenpussy—justasmallpatchofhairaboveitthat
drovemewild.Iteasedherthere,justaboveherclit,andherfingerscurledintothesheetbeneathher.
HerhipsbuckedupwhileIranmytonguealongtheouteredgesofherlips,aroundherclit,andthen
sankitfirmlyintothetight,hotholdofher.

“Oliver,”shegroaned.HerwhimpersincreasedwhileIdroveherwild.Iwantedtotakehertothe

brink,overandoveragain,driveherwild,driveheroutofherfuckingmindlikeshealwaysseemed
todomewheneverItouchedher.

Myspinewenthot,needbeginningtoheatmyballs.Pre-cumdrippedfrommytipandIwrapped

one hand around my shaft, pumping it hard and fast while I sucked on her clit. My fingers drove
insideofher,curlingdeepwithinheruntilIpressedagainstherridgedflesh.

“Fuckingcome,Shannon,”Igrowledagainstherasshetightenedaroundmyfingers.
Shespreadherlegsfurtherandfellapart.Herclitwasswollen,hertastelikesweetheavenonmy

tongue.AtasteIneverwantedtoforget.

Igroanedagainstherasshebeganshakingandtremblingbeneathme,signalingthefirstwaveof

herclimaxasitrushedthrough.Iknewhersignsnow,thewayherthighsbegantoshake.Thewayshe
pushedagainstthearmrestofthecouchasifshedidn’tknowwhethertofleefromthesensationor
thrustherselftowardit.

Asherorgasmstarted,Ipulledout,elicitingacryoffrustrationfromher.“Whatthehell?”
Ismirkedandstoodup.“You’llgetthere.”
Iwasbeingcocky,andshegrowledatmeinfrustration.“Hurry.”
I’dhurry.AndthenI’dtakemytimeonceshegotoffonce,butIneededinher.Ireacheddownand

yankedherhipstowardthearmrest,flippingheroverwitheasebeforeIhauledherovertheedgeof
thecouch.

Her hands curled into the sheets and I pressed my hand against her shoulder blades. Her toes

barelytouchedthefloorandIliftedher,standingbehindherasIrippedopenacondomandrolledit
on.“Staystill.”

Shewiggledherhips,andIcouldn’thelpmyself.Myhandsmackedtheglobesofherass.Asick

thrillshotthroughmeasherassjiggledandturnedpinkfromthestingofmyhandonher.

I’dmarkedherwithmycumandmyteeth.
Iwantedtomarkherwitheverypartofme.
“Oliver.”Shegaspedmyname,moaningandbreathless,andIcouldn’tstop.
I smacked her ass again, rubbing it to soothe the sting. Instead of arching away, she pushed up,

seekingmyhand.

“Youlikethis?”Iasked,myteethgritted.Itookmycockinonehandandranitthroughherslick

cunt,bitingbackmyowngroan.Withmytipatherentrance,Ispankedheragain.“Tellme,Shan.You
like this? When I spank you? Do you know how fucking hot it makes me to watch your skin turn
pink?”

Shemoanedmynameagain,andIgrinnedwhensheglaredatmeoutofthecornerofhereye,her

facepressedintothecouchbeneathher.

“Youdo,don’tyou?Youdon’tthinkyoushould,butyoufuckingloveitwhenIgetmyhandson

you,howeveritcomes,isn’tthatright?”

“Yes,”shebreathed,asIspankedheragain.Everytimemyhandconnectedwithher,shepushed

back,untilthetipofmydickslidrightinsideher.

Shehuggedmelikeavisegrip,andIlostthedesiretoteaseher.Iwantedtofuckher.Slaminside

of her balls deep until she shouted my name, until my name was the only thing she thought. Oliver,
Oliver,Oliver.Iwantedherchantingitalldaylong.

“Areyougoingtocome?”Iaskedasmyhandswenttoherhips.Ipressedintoher,fightingthe

needtoturnintoawildanimalandfuckherrelentlessly.

Thiswoman.ShetookeverythingIgaveandfuckinglovedit.
“Please,”shewhimpered.“Oliver.”
IgruntedasIhittheendofher,tiltedherhipsandbentmykneessoIcouldgodeeperinsideof

her. She contracted around my dick, sucking me in and holding me tight while her walls began
convulsing.

Imovedfasterandfasteruntilmyfingertipsgrewwetfromsweat.Shecamealmostimmediately

as soon as I wrapped my hand around to her front and rubbed her clit. Her whole body tightened,
musclesflexinginherarmsassheheldherselftight.HerpussyclenchedaroundmeandIcontinued
fuckingherharder,myhipssmackingagainsther,myballshittingherclitwitheverythrustforward.
They pulled tight, screaming for relief, but I held off until another orgasm rolled through her,
making her shake and shiver while the only thing she chanted was oh God, oh God, yes, coming,
Oliver.

Ipoweredintoher,pushingherforwardwhilepullingherbackandthrewmyheadback,roaring

hernamewhileIshotmyselfinsideofher.

“Fuck,”Igroaned,grindingmyteethtogether.MythroatmusclespoppedandtightenedandIknew

I’d bruised her from my tight hold on her. “So fucking beautiful.” Beautiful. I whispered it again,
overandoveruntilmyheartbegantocalmandshewentlimpinmyhold.

“God,you’regoodatthat,”shewhispered,hervoiceraspyanddrywhenIlethergoandclimbed

backtomyspotonthecouchbehindher,wrappingmyarmsaroundher.“Icoulddothatalldaywith
you.”

I envisioned that: a whole day of fucking her wherever and however I wanted, listening to her

repeatmynamewithabreathyvoice,hercurlswildandhereyesallsmoky.

Ipulledhertighter.“Weshoulddothat.”
Imeantit.I’dfuckingskipadayofpracticetohaveherinmybedallday,pliableandwanting.
She laughed softly, adjusting on the couch until she was on her back, and looked up at me. Her

eyesshonewithsatedlust.“Someday.Ihavethefestivaltoday.”

Ileaneddownandbrushedmylipsagainsthers,softandslow,savoringthemomentIhadwithher

beforeourdaystookusindifferentdirections.“AndIneedtogettomorningworkouts.Butthefirst
weekendI’mhome,you’reatmyplace.”

It didn’t surprise me like it did the first time when I’d taken her to my house without thinking. I

wantedherthere.Wantedhertomeetthehorsesandgettoknowthem.Wantedhertobeinmyhouse
soIhadthosememoriesofher.

IwantedtofuckherineveryroomofmyhousesoeverytimeIwalkedinside,allIsawwasher.
HersmilewentsoftasIpulledback,andwithafingershetracedmyjawline,feelingmymorning

scruff.“Yourhouse?”

Inoddedasshehesitated.

“I’dlikethat.”
“Metoo.”

***

“Thisisridiculous.”Igroanedandranmyhanddownmyface.
For thirty minutes I’d been waiting for Serena to show her face for our mediation, and she was

late.

Whatelsewasnew?Thewomanworeawatchasanaccessory,wasmostlikelyalwaysgluedto

hercellphone,andstillcouldn’tmanagetogetanywhereontime.Itusedtobeendearing.Ihadteased
herrelentlesslywhenweweredating.Thenightbeforeourwedding,I’dteasedheraboutbeinglateto
walk down the aisle. What I’d realized later, much too late, was that if Serena was going to be the
focus of everyone’s attention, she was always on time. When it was something important to me, or
anyone else, she took her sweet-ass time, expecting everyone to wait around for her, demanding
attentionuponherlatearrival.

Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeshe’dpulledthestuntsinceourdivorce,andIwasfedup.
I’dspentFridaynightgettingpummeledbyBaltimore—ateamweshouldhaveeasilybeaten,but

oursecondstringscouldn’tpulltheirheadsoutoftheirasseslongenoughtomakeatackle—andthen
I’dspenttherestoftheweekendwrappedupinShannon.I’dhelpedherafterthegame,bone-tiredand
musclesachingallovermydamnbody,butstillenergeticenoughtohelpherfinishputtingawayall
ofherdesignsandgettingStampedbacktohowshe’dhaditbeforethestreetfestival.

Itwasn’tthefirstnightwefellasleepwithoutmeburyingmydickintoherdeliciouscunt,butit’d

beenoneofthebest.

We’dtalked.ShetoldmeaboutDesMoines,growingupinarun-downhouseontheeastsideof

the city where nothing good had come from in the last fifty years besides Beaux Hale. She told me
about her mom, working job after job to support them and they still managed to go hungry
occasionally.ItoldheraboutlifeonthefarmoutsideSavannah—whereourtownhadtwostoplights
and half as many stop signs. Where everyone in town flooded football fields on Friday nights to
cheer for the only good thing that brought them excitement outside the few who could have cable
television.Welaughedaboutthewaywegrewup,bothofusdirtpooranddesperatelywantingmore.
The difference was that where I always wanted more for myself, she was the selfless one, doing
everythingshecould,sacrificingeverythingshewantedforherbrother.

Itwasthatselflessness,thatmotive—toseeherbrothersucceedathispassionandcarenothingof

herownambitions—thatsealedthedealthatshewasunlikeanywomanI’devermetbefore.

Nowomangaveupeverythingforsomeonewithoutgrowingbitter.WiththeclosenessBeauxand

Shannonshowedeachother,itwasclearthatwasn’tanissueforher.

Iwasquicklybecomingenthralledwithnotonlyherbody,buthersweetnessandherwitandher

intelligence.Shewasthekindofwomanmenfoughtover,claimed,wantedtokeepchainedtothem
likesomeprimalbeastbecausetheyknewtheprizethey’dbeengivensimplybyherattention.

Itunsettledme,lessthanitshouldhave,thatIwasalreadyfeelingthesethingsforher,sofiercely

andsoquickly.

I pushed the chair back from the table where my lawyer and Serena’s lawyer had been waiting.

The harsh sound of wood screeching gained everyone’s attention. I didn’t pay her lawyer any
attention,butfocusedonPaulCostell.

“I’mleaving.Youcanhandlethiswithoutme,right?”
Afterherplaytofindmeovertheweekend,afortuitouseventonherpartthatI’drunintoherat

theartfestival,I’dgonesearchingforher.

She’dcriedherfakealligatortearsandclungtome,whisperedhowmuchshemissedme.Missed

us.

I’drepeateditwasover.Wouldalwaysbeover.Ididn’thaveashredofemotionleftforSerena

except for annoyance and disappointment at who she still continued to be. Within thirty days, her
extravagantlifestyle,orlackthereof,wouldbenoneofmyconcern.

“Ican,Mr.Powell.”
Ifoughttheurgetorollmyeyes.I’dknownPaulforoversevenyearsandhestillrefusedtocall

mebyfirstname.ItwasSouthernrespect,butsoundedstrangeonhislipsconsideringI’dshownupat
hiskids’seventhandninthbirthdayparties.

“Mediationcannotcontinuewithoutallpartiespresent,”Serena’slawyersaid.
I’d gotten to know him as well over the last seven years. Never would I attend one of his kids’

parties—not that he’d asked. I didn’t even know if he had kids; the thought of that man creating
offspringmademewanttoshudderonagoodday.Hewasanasshole,andhadmostlikelygottenrich
offofmymoneyalonefromthecuthetookbeforeSerenagotherhandsonit.

“We’llneedtoreschedule.”
“Itisnotourfaultyourclientislate,asusual,”Costellclipped,andIdidn’tbotherhidingmygrin.

“Perhapsifyouhadstressedhowimportantthismeetingwas,she’dbehere.”

“Shewillbe.Isaidshe’sstuckintraffic.”
It was Raleigh at eleven o’clock in the morning. There was no traffic. And no construction. I’d

checkedafterPaulhadrelayedthetext.

“I’mdone.”
Iwas.Completely.DoneplayingSerena’sgames.Donewithherliesandherneedtobethecenter

ofattention.

TurningbacktoPaul,Igrinned.“Tellmehowthisgoes.”
“Withpleasure.”Hegrinnedback.
Iturnedonmyheel,notcaringatallaboutMr.Gaines’sthreats.Paulwouldtakecareofme;he

alwaysdid.IclappedmyhandonhisshoulderasIwalkedbyhim,andjustasIreachedtheconference
roomdoor,Mr.Gaines’assistantopeneditandwalkedthrough,holdingitopen.

“Gentlemen,SerenaPowellhasarrived.”
Iscowledatthename.TheonethingIgaveherIcouldnevertakeawayfromher.Foryearsafter

our divorce that ate at me—that she still had my name and wanted nothing to do with me except a
pocketbookfromadistance.

NowIjusthatedherforit.
I rolled my eyes as Serena practically floated in behind the middle-aged and kind-eyed

receptionist.Itwasn’tthefirsttimeI’dseenher,definitelywasn’tthefirsttimeI’dwonderedhowshe
workedforGaines.

“Oliver,howkindofyoutogreetme.”
Serenawalkedrightuptome,lookingmorelikeshewasgettingreadyforteathanpreparingto

lose millions. I stepped back before she could do her typical cheek kisses. They weren’t the sweet
onesSouthernwomenusedtogreettheirfriends.Serena’sdrippedwithvilepoison.

“Iwasn’t.Iwasleaving.You’relateandIhaveplans.”
Herfauxsmilebarelyfalteredbeforesheconcealedhersurprise.Andforprobablythefirsttime

inmylife,Ididn’texplainfurther.

“Goodbye,Serena.”
I tipped my chin toward her and the assistant still at the door and walked out, leaving Serena

behind,happily,forthefirsttimeIcouldeverremember.

ChapterEIGHTEEN

SHANNON

I had found the one flaw in my old building—and most especially, in my apartment. A lack of

decentair-conditioninghadsweatdrippingdownmyback,makingmefeelnastyandstinkywhileI
unpackedboxesalmostasquicklyasthemoversbroughtthemin.

A thrilling sense of excitement had buzzed in my veins all day long, making me excited and

terrifiedinequalparts.

Iwasreallydoingthis:owningmyownbusiness,movingonmyown,andstartingawholenew

life.

One that was becoming infinitely more exciting and terrifying with the surprising addition of

Oliver.Ihadn’tbeenlookingforhim.

Hadn’t even wanted a man so quickly after I’d left Patrick. I didn’t think I’d be able to trust so

easily, so quickly, and yet every time I turned around in the last couple of weeks, Oliver was there.
Showingmehewasn’tthemanhewasportrayedtobeinthegossipnews.Showingmethattheman
who had graced more GQ covers than I could count wasn’t the egotistical prick he proclaimed
himselftobe.

Hewaskind.Hewaswarm.Hewasroughanddirtywhenhewantedtobe,butunderneathallofit,

there was tenderness to him that he hadn’t allowed anyone to see since Serena. When he called me
Mondaytomeethimatthehotel,I’dexpectedtofindhimupsetorstressedafterhisappointmentwith
Serena.

Instead,he’dtoldmehowitwent,howhefeltabsolutelynothingwhenhesawher,watchingher

tryallherstuntstokeepreceivinghismoney—whichhadbeenrelayedviahisattorneysincehehad
walkedout.Wedidn’thavesexthatnight.Wetalked.

It was more intimate than any time he’d taken me rough and fast. Over the past week, when we

weren’t working, we had been together. I barely saw Beaux except for our paths crossing in his
apartment.NowthatIwasfinallygettingeverythingfromIowa,Iwouldseehimless.

Iwasunpackingaboxofdishesinthekitchenwhentwostrongandfamiliararmssurroundedme.
Hotlipsbrushedmyneckasonehandroseandbrushedmysweatyhairoffmyneck.
“Hello,”Oliverwhispered,hisvoiceinmyearsparkingdesireimmediately.
IstoppedwhatIwasdoingandcoveredhishandonmychestwithmine.“Hey.Whatareyoudoing

here?”

Ispunaroundandhishandsdroppedtomylowerback.Hedippedhisheadandwentinforakiss,

makingmeriseuptomytoestomeethimhalfway.

“Beaux and I wanted to stop by and see how the move was going. See if you need any more

muscle.”

“Youdidn’thavetodothat.Ithinkthey’realmostdonehere.”
“Good. Then when they’re gone, we can break in your bed.” He brushed his lips against mine

again.“Imissedyoutoday.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and stepped back when I heard more footsteps coming down the

hallway.“Yousawmethismorning.”

“Oh,Irememberthismorningclearly.”
He shot me a look went straight through my body, all the way to my fingertips and toes. This

morninghadinvolvedbeingwokenupwithmywriststiedtotheslatsinhisheadboardbytwoofhis
neckties.Myskinwasstillsore,alongwithotherpartsofmethathadnothingtodowithabusyday
onmyfeet,unpacking.

“Oliver.”Iblushedwhenaloud,boomingvoicehitthedoorway.
“NokissingmysisterwhenI’maround!Tellmeit’ssafetocomein.”Beauxwalkedin,onelarge,

meatypawcoveringhiseyes,andbumpedintoastackofboxes.“Oh,shit.”

I laughed and stepped away from Oliver. “You’re such a moron. Uncover your eyes before you

breaksomething.”

Beauxgrinnedwhenhedroppedhishandstohissides.“Therearethingsabrotherneverwantsto

see.That’sdefinitelynumbertwoonthelist.”

“What’snumberone?”Oliverasked,settlinghishandatthebaseofmyback.
Beauxquicklybackedupasthemoverspushedin.
“Wheredoyouwantyourcouch?”theyasked,oneofthemlookingatmeashecontinuedwalking

backward. He lifted my couch over the boxes Beaux had just tripped over, essentially pushing him
backintothewallatthesametime.

“Where the nasty one currently is,” I replied. They were taking that and the old bed to the

dumpsteronthewayout.

Seemingtoignorethemassoonastheyentered,anddodgingtheirwayastheybegancarryingout

theoldcouch,Beauxglaredatmeteasingly.

“Yourememberwhenyouwerethirteen?”Heshudderedasheaskedthequestion.
“Whathappenedwhenyouwerethirteen?”Oliverasked.
Irolledmyeyes.“Youwereten,andatsomepointyoureallyhavetogetoverit.”
Beauxshiveredagain.“Never.”TurningtoOliver,hesaid,“Iwalkedinonherafterashower.All

nakedgirl.Scarredmeforlife,Iswear.”

“Funny.That’soneofthebestthingsaboutyoursister.”
If it was possible to truly turn green, Beaux did it. His hand flew to his mouth as he covered a

vomitingsoundandgagged.“OhGod.I’mgoingtothrowup.”

Ipointeddownthehallway.Throughmylaughter,Isaid,“Bathroom’sthatway.”
Hehurriedoff,makingexaggeratingchokingsounds,andwhenmyphonerangIbarelyslidthe

screenaglancebeforeIhitthespeakerphonebutton.

Assuming it was Melissa, knowing it was getting close to when she’d be getting off work and

callingtoseehowthemovewent,Iansweredandstartedtalking.

“Hey,Mel!Thankyousomuchfor—”
“Shannon.”
MyeyespoppedopenatthesoundofPatrick’svoiceandmyheadwhippedtoOliver.
“Patrick?”Iasked,mythroatgoingdry.Nexttome,irritationbegantoprickleoffOliver ’sskin,

makingmyalreadytinykitchenseemevensmaller.“Whatdoyouwant?”

Hesoftenedhisvoice—thattenderonethatusedtomakememeltintohim,seekinghispromises.

“Babe,Icamehomefromworkandallthefurniture’sgone.What’sgoingon?”

Oliverglaredatthephone,andIsawhismusclesbegintobunchbeneathhisshort-sleevedshirt.

HehadaRoughRiderscapon,thebillcoveringhiseyesandmakingithardtoseethem,butIknew

thathazelcolorwasblazing.

“Thisisn’tagoodtime,Patrick.AndItriedschedulingthiswithyou,yetyourefused.Itoldyou

Melissawouldtakecareofitformeifyouwouldn’tcooperate.”

“Honey,Ithoughtwe’dtalk.Ithoughtyouagreedtoseeme.”
At that, those blazing eyes I couldn’t see burned into my flesh. I gritted my teeth and glared at

OliverandmouthedStopit.

HislipcurledinresponseandIfocusedonthephonecall.
“Ididnosuchthing,Patrick.I’vemadeitclearthatI’vemovedon.Youjustrefusetolisten.”
Hisvoicetrippedabitwhenheasked,“Movedon?But,Shannon,youloveme.”
“Notanymore,asshole.”Oliver ’sthick,grittedvoicecameasasurpriseandIgasped.
“What?Whoisthis?”
“Themanwhosedickwasinsideofyourexthismorning,youfuckingmoron.”
“Oliver!”IshoutedandthenflashedwildeyesatBeaux,whowaswalkingdownthehallway.This

wasdisintegratingquickly.

“Shannon,whoisthisjerkspeakingtomelikethis?”
Ireachedforthephone,butOliverbeatmetoit.Heclickeditoffspeakerphoneandhaditathis

ear.

“Her man, dickwad. And she doesn’t want you. You tossed her aside, and I picked her up. I’ve

spentsomuchtimeinsideofher,tastinghersweetpussy,thatyou’reamemoryforher.Nowgothe
fuckawayanddon’tcallback.”

Beaux made another gagging sound at Oliver ’s words, but I couldn’t even look at him.

Embarrassmentandangerburnedmycheeks.Alongwithlust.

Damnit,evenhiswordstossedoutforthesolepurposeofpissingoffmyexstillmademewantto

climbhimlikeatreeuntilhewasdoingallthethingshe’djustsaid.

“Don’tcallagain.”Oliverpunchedabuttononthephonebeforetossingitroughlytothecounter.
“Whatthehellwasthat?”
“Don’ttalktohimagain.”Oliverpointedatme.“Thatguyisfuckedintheheadandyouneedto

stayawayfromhim.”

“He’s clueless, not crazy.” I recognized my error when I suddenly had two insanely large men

glaringmedown.

“You defend him?” Beaux asked, appearing at Oliver ’s side. They were so big they blocked the

doorway.“Hehasn’tleftyoualoneinmonths,hecheatedonyou,andyou’regoingtostandhereand
defend him when he acted like he didn’t even know you’d left him? And yes”—he gestured with a
wave of his hand down the hall—“I heard all of that. And if Oliver hadn’t taken care of it, I would
have.”HelookedatOliverthenandcringed.“AlthoughIcouldhavedonewithouthearingthefucking
anddickandsweetpussypart.”

Heturnedgreenagainatthemention.
Inolongerfoundthisfunny.
Fortunately,Iwasgivenabriefreprievewhenthemoversreturned,carryingmybed.
“Excuseme.”IglaredatbothofthemuntiltheymovedsoIcouldgetoutofthekitchen.“Giveme

afewminutes.”

IfollowedthemoverstomybedroomandgavetheminstructionsonwhereIwantedthefurniture

setup.Beforereturningtomyoverbearingbrotherand—apparently—severelyoverprotectiveOliver,
Itookafewminutesintherestroomtofixmyhairandwipethebackofmyneckwithacoolrag.

Whathe’dsaidhadbeenrude.Partlydisgusting.

Andyetevenwiththat,theareabetweenmylegsbegantopulsewithdesire.Themanundidme.He

keptmeonmytoes,neverknowingwhenhe’dswitchfromdomineeringtosweet.

AsbotheredasIwasbythewayhe’dtakencontrolofmyconversation,IfoundthatasIcalmed

downfromtheshockofallofit,Iwasthankful.

IwastiredoftalkingtoPatrick.Tiredoflisteningtohisliesandhispatheticvoice.Today’shad

been no different, a bit whiny. And after spending so much time around Oliver, I knew it wasn’t
anywherenearmasculine.

Hiswordsandhisvoicestillhurt,though.FiveyearsofbeingwithhimandIwantedtomoveon

likeOliversuggested.

Yet Patrick’s continued efforts at contacting me constantly pulled me backward. Not because I

wantedhimback,orwantedtogobacktohim—thatshiphadsailedthemomentIsawhimplowing
anotherwomaninthebathroom.Buthewasstillmypast,stillahugepartofmeandwhatIhadonce
envisionedformyfuture.Hisconstantphonecallsandtextsmadeitdifficulttoforgethim.

Blowingoutabreath,Ismoothedbackmycurlsthathadcomelooseinmymessybunandthen

openedthedoortothebathroom.

IgotonestepintothehallwaybeforeIalmostranintoamountainouswallofcurvedandsculpted

muscle.

“Youokay?”Oliverasked,hishandsonhishipsandhisheadtippeddowntowardme.
Imemorizedthewayhisshirtcurvedaroundhispecs,hisabs,andthenthewayhisshortsfitloose

andlowonhiships.

Lifting my head to meet his eyes was difficult, and when I finally found the strength, he was

smirking.

“Abodylikeyoursshouldbeillegal,”Isaid,mylipsfightingagrin.
He’d caught me looking, admiring…soaking every perfect curve of his body into the deepest

partsofmymemorybanks.TherewasnouseinhidingthatIlikedthewayhelooked.

“Why?Doesitmakeyouwanttodoillegalthingstoit?”
“I’mstillhere!”Beauxshoutedfromwhatsoundedlikethelivingroom.
“Getoverit,turd!”IshoutedbackbeforenoddingatOliver.“I’mokay.Butyoudidn’thavetogo

cavemanonhim.”

Heshowednosignofremorse.“Imighthavebeenmoreforcefulthannecessary,butyouwanted

himtoleaveyoualone.”Hisbrowfurrowed.“Didn’tyou?”

“Idid.Ijustwasn’texpectingyoutotalkaboutyourdickonthephonetomyex,Iguess.”
Ilaughedthen,softly,shakingoffwhathadhappened.Melissawouldthinkitwashilarious.Maybe

Oliverhadapoint:Patrickhadn’tbeenlisteningtome,andtheveryfactthatheseemedconfusedI’d
actuallymovedmystuffoutshowedhowdelusionalhewas—thatmaybehethoughtIwasconsidering
crawlingbacktohimandtakinghisscraps.

“Ihavetofinishunpacking.”
Olivercheckedhiswatchathiswrist.“Howaboutweallgooutfordinnerfirstandtakeabreak.

You’vebeenworkingallday,right?”

Ihad.Ihadbeenupatsixinthemorningwhenheleftforearlypractice.I’dspenthoursdownat

Stamped,makingjewelrybeforethemovershadarrived.

Putting my hands to his shoulders, I leaned up as far as I could and kissed his muscled throat.

“Dinnerwouldbegood.”

***

Myorgasmwasquicklybarrelingdownonme.Iwasonmyhandsandknees.Myarmsshookand

mythighstrembledasfireandimpendingreleasespreadthroughoutmybody.

“Oliver.”Ipantedhisnamethroughparchedlips.Hedroveintomehard,hittingthatperfectspot

deepinsideofmethatmademequakeforhim.“Please.”

“Get there,” he growled. He was on his knees behind me, one hand on my shoulder, pulling me

backtohimashecontinuedpoweringintome,hisotherhanddownbymine.

Idroppedmyhead,unabletoholdmyselfup,andreachedmyhandtocoverhis.Myfingersdug

intothebackofhishandasmybodylitwithfire.

Needlesstosay,wewerebreakinginmybed,anditwasn’tjustgreatsex.Itwasfantastic.
“Come,”hecommanded.Helosthisquickrhythmandjustbeforeeverythinginsidemebeganto

tighteninculmination,hepulledout,flippedmeontomyback,andslidrightbackinside.“Fuckit.I
wanttoseeyou.”

Mylimbswrappedaroundhisbody.Mykneesliftedhighnexttohim,myheelsdiggingintohis

lowerback.

Myhandsdugintohisshoulders.
“Coming,”Ipanted,feelingitovertakeme.Itwaspowerfulandlongastheshocksrolledthrough

my body and I clung to him, tightening every limb until I pulled him down, chest to chest, his lips
inchesabovemine.

“Beautiful.”Heleaneddown,claimingmymouthwithhisown.AsIrodewaveafterwaveofmy

orgasm,hismovementjilted.

Iheardsomethinginthedistance—likelightninghittingtheEarth—rightashebellowedoutmy

name,seatinghimselfdeepinsideme,sodeepitalmosthurt,butdamnitwasgood.

ThatcrackIheardshookthefloorbeneathusandwefelltothefloor.
“Ah!”Isquealedandheldontohimtighter.
“Holyfuck,”hepantedashisweightcollapsedontopofme,jarringmeandstealingmybreath.
“Whatthehell?”
Heliftedhishead,hislipspulledbackinamusement.“Ithinkwebrokeyourbed.”
“Orwehadanearthquake,”Isaid,barelyabletocontainmygiggle.
Hiseyeslitwithfakefury.“Trustme.AshardasIjustfuckedyou,webrokethebed.”
“Sosureofyourself.”
“Thebediscrooked.”Oliversmiled,abeautifulmouthwithshinywhiteteethsurroundedbyfull

lipsthathadtastedeveryinchofmybody.

Ilookedtomyleft,stillclingingtohim,andsawthathewasright.Onesideofthebedwasmuch

higherthantheother,andwewerestilllyingatanangle.

Closingmyeyes,Ipushedmyheadintomypillowandgroaned.“Damnit.Themoversmustnot

havesettheframeright.”

“Oryourbedjustcan’thandlemysuperhumanstrength.”
“Ortheweightofyourego.”
Ismackedhisbutt,unwrappingmylegsfromaroundhimasheslidoutofme.Ithoughtwe’dfix

themesswe’dmadeandgetcleanedup,butinsteadhecurledintothebednexttome,drapedonehand
overhisface,andpulledmetohim.

“Letmerelaxbeforewefixthis.”
Isettledin,lovingthathelikedtocuddle.Hedidn’tseemthesort—butlikesomanythingsabout

Oliver,hecontinuedtosurpriseme.

Atdinnerthatnight,forexample,I’dlistenedintentlythroughmostofitwhileBeauxandOliver

discussed the practice and some of the plays they’d struggled with. The coming weekend would be
theirfirstout-of-stategame,whentheytraveleddowntoMiami.

Thedefensewasclicking,butwithsomanynewmembersontheoffensiveline,bothBeauxand

Oliver had said it was taking longer than it should for everyone to find their groove. I’d sat silent
throughmostoftheconversations,butstillgrinnedasIrealizedthatafterOliverhadsaidhe’dgive
Beauxachance,allhisanimositytowardhimseemedtoevaporate.Hecouldhavebeendoingitfor
thegoodoftheteam,ortokeepthepeacebetweenthewomanhewasfuckingandherbrother,butI
suspecteditwasmorethanthat.

Beauxwasearninghisrespect,andOliverwasgivingitfreely.
After dinner, Beaux had taken off when I insisted I didn’t need any more help unpacking. I had

barely stepped inside my apartment before I was staring at the floor, flung over Oliver ’s shoulder,
andthendumpedontomybed.

“Youreadyforthegamethisweekendthen?”Iaskedasmymindreplayeddinnerandeverything

afterthat.

“It’llbehard.Miami’sagoodteamandtheyhaveagreatdefense.Ifwecanmakeourlong-pass

plays,though,andifKolbycancontinuedoingwhathe’sbestat,itshouldbeagoodgame.”

“That’sgood.”MyeyesdriftedclosedasIresponded.
“Yougoingtocome?”
I heard a hint of hopefulness in his voice and turned to look at him, forcing one eye open. “I

could,”Iadmitted,“butIreallyneedtokeepworkingongettingStampedupandrunning.”

Oliver ’s mouth tightened for a moment before he smoothed it out by licking his lips. “Okay.

AlthoughIhavetoadmitIdon’tknowifitshouldscarethefuckoutofmethatI’mnotgoingtolike
sleepingwithoutyouwhilewe’regoneorifIshouldjustbehappyaboutit.”

Itpleasedmetonoend—hisopenhonestyandhowmuchheseemedtoshowmethathereallydid

likeme.Howmuchhewantedmearound.

“Ithinkyoushouldjustbehappyaboutit.”
“I’llthinkofawaytobewithyouanyway.”
Hiseyebrowswiggled.Iwassated,sore,andexhausted.Ittookthatsillybrowwiggleandaslow,

teasingbrushofhislipsagainstmycheektoreenergizeme.

“DoyouknowwhatIlike?”
“What?”heasked,hiseyesfilledwithwicked,scrumptiousdelight.
“Sleepingonabedthatisn’tcrooked.”
Ipushedathimwhenhechuckled.HisarmloosenedandItooktheopportunitytorollawayfrom

himandtowardthefloor,landingonmykneesfacinghim.

“Fine,”hegroanedplayfully.“Gogetcleanedup.I’llfixthebedsoIcanfuckyouuntilitbreaks

again.”

HeflashedmealookfullofpromisebeforeIreachedforashirtonthefloorandscurriedtothe

bathroom.

Itookmytime,hearinghimbangaroundwithtoolshe’dprobablygrabbedfromthediningroom

table,andwhenIcamebacktomyroomhewasstandingup,droppingthemattressbackontoanow
straightenedbedframe.

“Fixed?”IaskedasIflungmyhandtowelontoapileofdirtylaundryonthefloor.
Oliver ’seyesfollowedthedirtytowelasitlandedontheheap,andhesmiled.
Then he reached for me, tossed me back into the bed, and pushed my legs wide with his knees

betweenmine.

“Yes.Let’sseehowmanytimesinonenightwecanbreakthedamnthing.”
Ilaughed.“Anotherroundwithyourstaminamightbreakme.”
HiseyesdarkenedandwentintenseinawayIhadn’tyetseen.Darklashesframedshadedeyes,but

itwasimpossibletomisstheseriousnessinhisgaze.

“Never,”hewhispered,cuppingmycheekwithhispalm.“Idon’teverwanttodothat.”

ChapterNINETEEN

SHANNON

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Oliver drawled as he made his way to where I was standing,

backsideproppedagainstthehoodofmysilverHonda.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”

Islidmysunglassestothetopofmyheadandsmiled.“Ithoughtsinceyouhadtheeveningoffand

IneededabreakfromStamped,wecouldgodosomething.”

Afterthedramahe’dhadwithSerenaearlierthatweek,ithadoccurredtomethatwhilewe’dgone

outfordinneracoupleoftimes,wespentalotoftimebetweenthesheetsandnotalotoftimetalking.
SothatdayI’ddecidedtosurprisehimwhenhegotdonewithanearlypractice.

Thenextmorning,theteamflewdowntoMiamitogetreadyfortheirfirstgameoftheseason.
Oliver glanced around the parking lot at the practice field and a line dipped between his brows.

For a moment I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Perhaps he wanted to stay home and be alone,
concentrateonthegameahead.

“Wedon’thaveto—”
He interrupted me and wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me to him while he held a

duffel bag in his other hand. “No, I do. I’m just surprised to see you and I feel like an ass for not
realizingwehaven’tbeenoutmuch.”

“Well”—I grinned and rolled to my toes, tilting my head back to kiss his chin—“we have been

prettybusydoingotherthings.”

Hekissedmycheekandsqueezedmetightbeforelettinggo.“Allright,then.Let’sdothis,butI’m

driving.”

Ilaughedatthewayheglancedatmycar,liketherewasnowayhewaslettingawomandrivehim

around.

“Iwantedtogosomewherenearmyplace,though.”
Alusciouslookflickeredinhiseyes.“ThenI’llbringyoubackhereinthemorning.”
Consideringthatimpliedwewerespendingthenighttogether,howcouldIarguewithhim?
“Sowheredoyouwanttogo?”heaskedonceweweresettledinhiscarandpullingoutofthelot.
“I was thinking Mexican. There’s this great little restaurant down by the university I’ve been

wantingtotry.”

“MamaCasita’s?”heasked,barelygivingmeaglance.“Ilovethatplace.TheyhaveliveMariachi

bandsthatplaythereonThursdays.”

“Which was why I wanted to go,” I replied, grinning that he knew that information. When I’d

walked by Mama Casita’s while exploring the arts district, it seemed like any other restaurant from
the outside, small, one-story brown brick building with the lettering of the name written in typical
bright colors. Yet last week when I’d been walking down the sidewalk, the music had caught my
attentionandI’dwantedtogoinsidetocheckitout.

Oliverkepthiseyesontheroadinfrontofusandplacedonehandonmythigh,squeezingfirmly.

“Tryingtogetmetodancewithyouagain?”

Irolledmyeyes.“Sure,ifyouthinkyoucankeepupwithme.”
Heshotmeabrieflookandlickedhislips.“I’mprettysurewebothknowIcankeepitup.”
“Good.”Ismirked.“BecauseIhaveplansforyoutonight.”
The attraction between us, that electricity that was always there, simmering below the surface,

sparkedtolife.

“Howwaspractice?”Iasked,myvoicehuskierthanusual.Darnthemanandhissexiness.Ihadto

changethesubjectbeforeweendedupinbedbeforeournightbegan.

Heflashedmeaknowinglookatthequestionandbeganrunninghisthumbalongtheinsideofmy

thigh. I had thrown on a simple dress earlier. The summer heat was killing me, so I’d grabbed a
lightweight,babypinkdresswithapleatedskirt,fittedbodice,andspaghettistraps.AsOliverbegan
touchingme,itfeltlikeIwasalreadynaked.

“Tough.FeelslikePomvilleistreatingeveryoneofourgamesthisseasonasifit’shislast.He’s

notcuttingusanyslack.”

“That’sagoodthing,right?”
“Yeah,butsometimesitmakesmefeellikeI’mgettingtoooldforthis.”
Afrownpressedhislipsdown.IknewjustaswellasOliverdidthatatoverthirtyyearsold,he

couldn’thavemanyyearsleft.

“Givenanythoughttowhatyouwanttodoafter?”
“Notaclue.Tellmeaboutyourday.”
HisAdam’sappledippeddownhisthroatasheswallowedharshly.Itookthehint:nomoretalking

football—atleastnotinvolvingtheendofhiscareer.

IdidashewishedandfilledtherestofthecarridewithtalkofStampedandmovedontotelling

himhowMelissaandImetandhowshestartedherowngraphicdesignbusiness.Shewasworkingon
revampingmywebsiteagain,soI’dspentmostofthedayemailingherbackandforthwhileshesent
meproofdesigns.

WhenOliverpulledintoaparkingspaceinfrontofMamaCasita’s,Ismiledatthesoundofmusic

alreadyfilteringoutoftherestaurantandontothesidewalk.

OliverreachedintothebackseatandcamebackwithafrayedGeorgiaTechbaseballhat.Heslidit

onhishead,pushingitdownlowoverhiseyes.“There,nowI’mready.”

Igrinnedandgesturedtohishat.“I’mnotsurewearingahatwithyourAlmaMateronitwillhide

youridentityverywell.”Anotherthoughtflickeredinmymindandmysmilevanished.“Ifyoudon’t
likegoingoutinpublic,wedon’thaveto.Ijustthoughtwecouldhavesomefun.”

His lips pressed together before he answered. “I don’t mind ending up in photographs and I

actuallydolovethefans.Ijustdon’talwayslikehavingmealsinterrupted.Mostofthetimeit’sfine,
though.”

I’dbeenbyBeaux’ssideenoughtoknowthatwhenonefanspottedyou,thephonescameout,the

napkins were slid onto tables, and soon the quiet meal you’d wanted ended up with cold food, ice
meltedindrinks,andaconstantstreamofautographsbeingsigned.

“Howaboutacompromise?”
Hiseyeswidenedinsurprised,likehecouldn’tbelieveI’dgetit.“What?”
“Wegoin,getanordertogo,andIgetonedancewhilewewaitforourfood.Thenwecangoeat

itsomewheremoreprivate.”

I had the perfect place in mind. Mama Casita’s was near the NCSU campus and I’d heard it had

beautifulparks.

“HowisitthatyoualwaysseemtoknowexactlywhatIneed?”

Hishandwasatthebackofmyneckandhislipswereonmine,histongueseekingentranceinto

mymouth,beforeIcouldrespond.

***

“Youhaveagreatarm,”Oliversaid,hishandsextendedtocatchthepassI’dthrown.
“Ilearnedfromthebest.”
“Idon’tknowifI’dcallBeauxthebest.”
Iclapped my handsand opened them,signaling for him tothrow the ball.“Fine, I learned from

oneofthebest.Happy?”

Hethrewtheballintomyoutstretchedhandsperfectly.WhenIdidahip-shakeforacelebration

dance,Oliver ’sgazeturnedserious.

“Yes,I’mhappy.Very.”
We’d danced our Mariachi dance and laughed ourselves silly. I learned that while Oliver could

movelikeaGodinthebedroom,amasteronthefootballfield,andcouldrollhishipsseductivelyto
hip-hopmusic,heabsolutelysuckedatotherformsofdancing.

We’d gotten our food after one song, like I promised him, and then we’d left Mama Casita’s,

Oliverholdingontomyhandwithoneofhisandourorderoffoodinanother,andgonestraightto
theperfectareaoftheuniversity.

Falltermwouldstartinacoupleofweeks,soforthetimebeingthecampuswasratheremptyand

Oliverhadguidedustoasmallparkthatoverlookedanearbylake.WhenI’dstartedcleaningupour
mess,he’druntohiscarreallyquickandcomebacktossingafootballinhishands.

Iblinkedawaytheemotionthathissimplestatementcausedandthrewhimtheball.
“Yourdaddothiswithyou?”
He’dmentionedhisparentsafewtimes,butmostofitwasinpassing.
“Ofcourse,”hereplied.“Everydaywhenweweredoneworkingonthefarm,he’dhavemeoutin

thebackyardthrowingpasses.”

“Areyouclose?”
“Closeaswecanget,Isuppose.Heneverreallyunderstoodmypassionforfootball,andIthinka

part of him still wishes I had stayed close and taken over their farm. But he’s also always been
supportiveofme,behindmeahundredpercent.Bothofmyparentswere.”

“It’sgoodyouhadthat.”Asmallwaveofsadnessrolledoverme.
“Yourmomwasn’tlikethat?”
UnlikeOliver,BeauxandIhadprettymuchdoneeverythingonourown,always.“Momtriedto

supportus,andshedidwithherwords,butshewasalwayssobusyworkingthatshedidn’thavethe
timetodomuchelse.”

Hecaughtmynextpassandtuckeditunderhisarmbeforehestartedwalkingtowardme.“What

aboutyourdad?Wherewashe?”

Isnorted.“Drowninghimselfinabottleofwhiskeyatthelocalbar.”
“Youknowwhoheis?”Hiseyebrowsarchedinsurprise.
Shrugging,Istartedwalkingtowardthepicnictablewherewe’dleftbottlesofwaterhehadpicked

up.“Yeah,Imean,Iknowhisnameandhelivedintown.Butheandmymomweren’treallytogether
whenshegotpregnant,sohedidn’tfeelanyobligationtostickaroundwhenshegotknockedup.It’s
notlikehewouldhavebeenanyhelp.Ionlyknewhewasaworthlessdrunk.”

Hescratchedthescruffonhischeekandfrowned.“I’msorry.Idon’tknowwhatthatwaslike,butI

betitsucked.WhataboutBeaux’sdad?”

Iscrunchedmyface.“Mymom’snotaslut,youknow.”
“Ineversaidshewas,Shannon.I’mjustasking.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and exhaled a breath. “I’m sorry, I’m defensive, but neither of our

storiesarepretty,Iguess,andyoucomefromsuchanormalfamily.”

“Allfamilieshavetheirproblems.”
“Iknow.”Itookanothersipofwaterbeforeexplaining.“Beaux’sdadwasaone-nightstandfrom

atimewhenmymomworkedthefrontdeskatahotel.AllIknowisthatthehotelwasfancyandthe
patronshadmoney.Lotsofit.Shedidn’ttalkaboutitmuch,andIthinkshewasashamed,butshetold
mewhenshewassickthatshewasjustlonelyduringthattime.Onesmallchild,allonherown.She
had a high school degree but nothing that could earn her enough money to give her kid what she
wanted.”

“Thatsucks,”Oliverrepliedandsetthefootballdownonthepicnictable.“Ican’timaginewhat

thatwaslikeforanyofyou,really.Thefactthatbothofyouhavedonesowellforyourselvesisa
testamenttoherandyourcharacters.”

TearsburnedthebacksofmyeyesandIforcedmyselftolookaway.“Imissher.Allthetime.I

missedherwhenshewasalivebecauseBeauxandIwerealwaysalone,andthenImissedherwhen
shewasgone.”

His hand reached out and cupped the side of my neck, and his thumb began making small

movementsjustbeneathmychin.“How’dshedie?”

“Exhaustion, I think. She was never officially diagnosed with a cause of death other than heart

failure.” Tears began blurring my vision as the memories slammed into my mind. “She got
pneumoniaonewinteranddidn’thavepaidtimeoff.Soshekeptworking,andittookforeverforher
togetbetter.Butsheneverreallydid,either.Shekeptgettingsick,keptrefusingtogotothehospital
becauseshedidn’thavetheinsurancetopayforit.Onceshelostherjobsandkeptgettingsicker,I
thinkshejustgaveup.”

Hishandatmynecktightenedandhetuggedmeforwarduntilmyforeheadhithischest.Hisother

armwrappedaroundmylowerbackandheheldmeagainsthimwhileIbegantocry.Swayingback
andforth,heheldmeclose,lettingmeexpelalltheemotionsIworkedsohardtokeepbottledup.

Anditwasinthatmoment,withthesunbeatingdownonus,therustlingofabreezethroughthe

treesandthewaveslappingagainsttheshoretheonlysoundsaroundus,IknewIwasfallingindeep.

SodeepIwasdrowning,butdidn’twantanyonetorescueme.
I pulled back and wiped my tears away, my smile shaky when I looked up at Oliver. The

understandinginhiseyesmadeallhishardenedfeaturesseemsofterandmademybreathcatchinmy
throat.

“Sorry,”Iwhispered,cleaningupmycheeks.
“Don’t be.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek, my jaw, my lips, back by my ear. “You have

nothingtobesorryfor.Youreadytogo?”

“Yeah.” I sniffed one more time. I erased the sadness in my eyes and grinned, biting my tongue

betweenmyteeth.“Istillhavemorethingsplannedfortonightanyway.”

Hissoftgrinturnedwicked.“Thenbyallmeans,let’sgohome.”

***

“Whatafucktwit,”MelissaexclaimedafterIfilledherinonPatrick’sphonecallfromearlierin

theweek.

IswallowedmysipofwinebeforeIchokedonit.ItwasSaturday,andforthefirstnightsinceI’d

been in Raleigh, I was alone. No Beaux, no Oliver, just my newly bought and set up television—
completewithsatellitesoIneverhadtoworryaboutmissingasinglefootballgameallseason—and
Melissa’smade-upcursewords.

“But Oliver, man, he sounds like a man I wouldn’t mind being claimed by. Not in that way, at

least.”

“Yeah,he’ssomethingelse.”
ItwassafetosayIwasfallingfast.
Itseemedsurrealatthesametimethatitwasnatural.
Whatdidn’tfeelnaturalwasthelittlewhiteboxI’dfoundsittingonthenightstandnexttomybed

thismorningwhenIwentbacktograbmypurseafterOliverhadleft.

Itwastoobigtobejewelry.Itwasalsowaytoosoonforhimtobegivingmejewelry,despitethe

amountofmoneyhemade.

Maybeheleftitbyaccident.Maybeitwasn’tforme,butsomethinghe’dforgotten.
Maybehewantedmetowaituntilhecalledmeafterthegamelikehe’dpromisedhewould.
I’dspenthoursdownstairsthinkingoftherectangularbox.Itseemedtoshoutthroughthefloor,

downtomyworkroominStamped,“openme,openme,openme,comeon,youknowyouwantto.”

I’dcavedtwohoursearlier,curiosityalmostkillingme.
Now,Iwasgoingtokillhim.
The box hadn’t contained jewelry. It hadn’t even contained a memento, something cheesy to

rememberhimwhenheplayedinhisawaygames.

Nope.
Abuttplug.
Butt.Plug.Itwasn’tasmallone,either.He’dmentioneditonceand,interestedinwhathe’ddoneto

me,I’dhopedwe’dgothere.Wehadn’t.Forthepastweekhehadbackedoffthebackdoorentrance.
Afterthefirsttimehe’dpressedafingerinsideofme,though,Ihadlookedbuttplugsuponline.

The plug he’d left surreptitiously next to my nightstand, giving me a clear indication he wanted

this,wasmuchsmallerthanhim.Itwasalsonotabeginner,small-sizedplug.

HencethesuddenneedIhadforwine.
“Itellyouwhat,ShannaBanana,”Melissasaid.
Itoccurredtomethatshe’dbeenspeaking,butI’ddriftedoff.IdraggedoffmyeyesofftheboxI

couldspydownthehallwayandfocusedonher.

“Patrick was never good enough for you. I know Beaux told you that, and now I’m telling you

that.IstayedsilenteventhoughIneverlikedtheguy,butyoudidandyoudeservedyourhappy,but
Patrickwasnevergoingtobeitforyou.Andfrankly,I’mgladyou’venowgotalargedickstickingit
toyousoyoucanrealizethattherearemenouttherewhoarerealmenandnotthepussyguyPatrick
is.”

Shewasright,inasense.Iwastiredofdefendingtheguy,talkingabouthim,andeventhinking

abouthim.

“Well,it’sdonenow,”Imurmuredandtookanotherdrinkofwine.“Let’sputitbehindus.”
“Yes,let’s.Now,let’stalkmoreaboutthishunkofamanyouhave.Heisfine…”
She continued speaking and rambling, like she usually did, and I quit listening. The truth was,

therewasnocomparisonbetweenOliver ’ssixfootfour,two-fifty,muscledframethatheldabitof
thickness around his sides and Patrick at five-ten and one-eighty. Both were built and in shape for
theirbuild,butOliverwasonanotherlevel.

Amanwhohadspentyearshoninghisbodyintoamachinewasnomatch,physically,foraman

whooccasionallyranontheweekendsandliftedweightsonlywhenthespiritmovedhim.

While Melissa rattled on, I continued thinking about all the years I’d spent with Patrick, finally

lettingthetrutheveryonespoketomesinkintomelikeitshouldhavelongago.

Theywere right aboutPatrick. Patrick hadalways expected me tobow to him,to go along with

whathewantedbecausehewasaMcDonnelly.

Ihadfallenforit.Ihadcravedthesecurityhisfinancialsituationcouldprovidesomeday,notto

live a life of luxury, but to know with certainty that I’d never eat a week of bologna and cheese
sandwichesagain,andeventhenonlyeattwiceaday.

ButhadIevercravedhistouchthewayIalreadycravedOliver ’s?HadIeverrespondedtohim

physicallysoquickly?Sodeeply?DidImisshimwhenwewereapart,waitingfortheminuteIcould
seehimagain?

Iftheyeverexisted,they’devaporatedalongtimeago.
Regardlessofthepassionwecouldhavehadinthebeginning,ithadlongsinceburnedoutbythe

timeheproposed.Ihadchalkedituptothat’swhathappenedwhenyoumovedinwithsomeone.When
youknewthemsowellaftersomanyyearsthatitwaseasytosettleintoroommateswithlackluster
sexliveswhereyoukneweverymovethatwouldcomebeforeithappened.

We’dbeenstale.Ihadn’tevenbeenbotheredbyit.
Already I knew that if that passion with Oliver waned, I’d fight tooth and nail to get it back,

hangingontoitwitheverythingIhadtokeepfromlosingitagain.

“Ididn’tlovehim,”Iwhispered.
The babbling voice on the other end of the phone went silent. “Jensen Ackles?” Melissa finally

asked,confusionthickinhervoice.“BecauseIwastalkingabout—”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening, and I’ll let you rant about Supernatural later, but I think I just had an

epiphany.”

“AboutPatrick?”Anyotherfriendmighthavebeenoffendedbyadmittingthey’dbeentalkingand

you’dtotallydriftedoff.NotMelissa.Ofcourse,herobsessionwithSupernaturalrivaledminewith
SonsofAnarchy—somethingsheneverunderstood.

“Yes.Ididn’tlovehim.OrifIdid,Istoppedalongtimeago.”
Ididn’thavetoseehertoknowshewasrollinghereyes.“Well,duh.Icouldhavetoldyouthat.”
Ifinishedmyglassofwineinonelargeswallow.“Iloveyou.Youknowthat,right,PissyMissy?”
Shesnorted.“Sure,hooker.Iknowthat.”

***

MypalmswentclammyassoonasIsawOliver ’snameflashonmyphone.
Iwastipsy,havingdrunkmorewineafterMelissaandIhungup.ThenmorewinewhileIwatched

RaleighcreamMiami.Fortwoguyswhohadseemedtothinkthegamewasgoingtobeclose,they
had played a game that the sports announcers were declaring “prophetic of the rest of their Super
Bowl-boundseason.”

I’dbeensoexcitedthatI’dfinishedthebottleofwinewhileIcheeredforeverycompletedpass,

everytouchdown,everydodgedsackandtackle.

Now, I was about to have a heart attack. If it was possible, the butt plug on my nightstand had

grownthroughouttheday.

Itwasn’tevenjustaphonecallthatmademenervous.Itwasthesmallwhitevideocamerainsidea

greencircle.

FaceTime?OhGod.
My stomach sank to my gut as I hit the Answer button. When we connected and I saw his eyes

crinklebehindthosesexyashelleyeglassframeswhenhesmiled,Iswallowedpastthelumpinmy
throat.

“Hey,you.Goodgametonight.”Icringedasmyvoicecracked.
Oliver ’ssmiledisappearedashenoticed.“Youokay?”
“I’mgood.Ipromise.Maybehadabittoomuchtodrinktonight,excitedtoseeyou.Youplayed

great.”

His eyes softened. His smile was a bit tremulous, as if he wasn’t used to the praise. It was that

vulnerabilitythatmademyheartskipabeat.“Thankyou.Everythingaboutthegamewasgood,like
we’refiguringoutourshitonthefield.”

“Itlookedlikeit.”Therewasanawkwardpauseandheatcreptupmynecktomycheeks.
“You’re nervous,” he said, adjusting in his seat. He leaned back, and that was when I noticed he

wasn’twearingashirt.AllIsawonthesmallscreeninmyhandwastannedandfirmmuscles,slight
bruisesbloomingonhisribcage,butIknewenoughnottoask.Bruisesandinjurieswerepartofthe
game.“Wouldyoucaretotellmewhy?”

Iblinkedharshlyandforcedmyselftolookhimintheeye.Hesmirkedandranhistonguealong

histeeth.Slowly.

Teasingly.
God.HeknewwhyIwasnervousandhewaslovingit.
“Ifoundyourpresent,”Iadmitted,myvoicethick.
Hislipstwitched.“Andyou’renotgoingtosaythankyou?”
Myvoicewentsoft.“I’mabittooafraidforthatquiteyet.”
“Youwill.”Henoddedconfidently.“WhenI’minsideyou,withyourassfulloftheplug,you’llbe

thankfulforit.”

“You sound so sure.” My body was already responding to the idea, to his words and his

confidence.Warmthhitmyinnerthighs,makingeverythingtingle.

He crossed his arms over his chest, excitement flashing in his eyes all while seeming so

unconcernedatmynerves.“Tellmewhatyoufirstthoughtwhenyousawit.Andwhileyou’redoing
that,takeoffyourshirt.Iwokeuphardthismorning,wishingIcouldputmymouthonyourtits.”

“God, Oliver.” I was already practically panting. My breath quickened from nerves mixed with

desire.Istilllistened.Itookoffmyshirtandmybra,sittinginmybedinonlyasimplewhitecotton
thong.Withoutbeingtold,IadjustedmypositiononthebedandproppedupmyphonesoIcouldtalk
tohimwithoutholdingit.

SomethingtoldmeIwouldneedmyhandssoonanyway.
“Whenyousawtheplug?”heasked,hishandsdisappearingbelowmylineofsight.Iknewwhat

hewasdoingasheshiftedhiships,pusheddown,andthenthemusclesinoneofhisarmsbeganto
bunchandflexwhilehebeganworkinghimself.

God,Iwantedtoseeit.Seehimstrokehimself.
“I liked it,” I admitted, breathless now. “We talked about it but then you didn’t mention it again.

I’vebeencurious.”

“Scared?”
Inodded,thenblinkedashecontinuedworkinghimself.“Iwanttoseeyou,”Iblurted.
He barked out a quick laugh but pushed back from the desk. Shit. He was naked. Completely,

exceptforthoseglassesIwantedhimwearingsometimewhenhewasontopofme.Theymadehim
seemlesslikeagodandmorelikeaman.Acompletelyedibleman.Hisharddickstoodstraightup
whilehewrappedhishandaroundit.Histhighswerespreadwide,unashamedly.

Alwayssoconfident.
I dragged my gaze off him masturbating and blinked quickly. “I’ve never done this. Or that,” I

admitted,thinkingoftheplugandhimtakingthatpartofme.“Itmakesmenervous.Scaresme.ButI
wantit,too.”

“You’ll fucking love it. God, do you see how hard I am for you? So damn hard for you all the

time.AndallyouhavetodoislistentowhatIsay.Canyoudothat,Shan?”

Inodded,droppedmygazebacktohisdick.Wetnessdampenedmythong.
“Takeoffyourunderwear,then.Assexyasyouarecovered,Iwanttoseeyou.”
Ishiftedagain,listeningtohisrichvoice,thewayhishazeleyeshadgoneasdarkastheforest.

Everymuscleinhisfacewastightandhisabsbunchedandrolledwhileheworkedhimself.Hewas
justasturnedonasme.

WhenIwasnaked,Ifoughtformyconfidenceandplantedmyfeetonthebed,kneesupandlegs

spreadwidesohecouldseeallofme.Iwascompletelyexposedtohim.

Thelookinhiseyestoldmehelikedit.“Good.Nowrunathumboveryournipple,teaseyourself

whileIwatchyou.”

Ilistenedwithouthesitation.Mynippleswerealreadyashardasdiamondsanyway.Eachbrushof

mythumbsentsparksofpleasurestraighttomysex.Withoutbeingtold,myotherhanddrifteddown
mystomachuntilIwasrubbingtwoofmyfingersovermyclit.

“Oh,God,”Igasped,archingintomyhand.Myeyesgrewheavy,butIforcedmyselftokeepthem

onOliver.

“Dirtyfuckinggirl,”hegroaned,watchingme.Hishalf-liddedeyeswerefocusedonmyfingers

at my pussy. Seeing how much he liked it, watching his own cheeks flush while I got myself off
spurredmeon.Islidmyfingersthroughmyfolds,gatheringthemoisturethere,anddraggedthem
backtomyclit.“Youfuckinglovethis.Andyou’llloveitwhenI’minsideyourass.”

“Yes,” I breathed out, unable to hide it anymore. His hand worked his dick faster and his

commandsreturned.

Hetoldmehowtopleasuremyself.Totwistmynipples,tugonthem.Hetoldmewhentopushmy

fingersinsideofmeandfuckmyself.Ilistenedtoeverywordhesaid,needyandpantingandwanting
anddrivingmyselfsoabsolutelycrazymyskinglistenedwithsweat.

“Oliver,”Ipantedrapidly,chantinghisnamewhilemyorgasmdancedaroundtheedges.
“That’sit,honey,”hegrunted,softeninghisvoicewhileheferociouslyworkedhisowncock.“Let

meseeyoufallapart.I’msodamnclose.Sohard.Sofuckingjealousit’syourfingersinsideyouand
notmytongue.”

ItwasallIneededtohear,thelastthingIheardbeforeIsqueezedmyeyesclosedandfireworks

explodedbehindmyclosedlidsasmyclimaxrolledthrough.

Ithrewmyheadbackintomypillowasmybodytightenedandquivered,anddrainedeveryounce

ofmyorgasmfrommeasIheardhimgrowlinginthatgravellyvoiceofhis.

“Givemeyoureyes,Shannon.Watchwhatjustthesightofyoudoestome.”

I barely peeled my tired eyes open in time to watch him. His heavy balls were drawn tight, his

handmovinghardandfastaroundthetipofhiscock.

Hedidn’ttakehiseyesoffmewhenhisownorgasmhithim.Hisjawclenched.Hisabstightened

untilIsaweverysingleindentationonhischestandsidesandhipsandthighs.Whenhecame,hewas
staringdirectlyintomyeyes,mynamerollingoffhisthickandswollenlips,hiseyeslitwithfierce
desire.“Fuckingshit,”hegrowledashesloweddowntheministrationsofhisdick,hisclimaxrolling
throughhim.

Atremblerolledthroughhimasitlefthim,shakingoffthefinaltwingesofaclimaxthatIknew

had hit him as powerfully as my own did, and then a blush hit his cheekbones and he winked. “So.
Thatwasfun.”

Ilaughed,myeyescrinkling,andmylipsstretchedintoafullsmile.“Yeah,”Iexhaled.“Thatwas

fun.”

“Gogetcleanedup.Whenyoucomeback,Iwanttohearallaboutyourday.”

ChapterTWENTY

OLIVER

“AreyoureadytoopenStampedinacoupleofweeks?”
Wewerewindingthroughthebackroadsonthewaytomyhouse,andnexttome,Shannonwas

strungtight.

Iknewwhy.Earlier,afterI’dtoldherIwantedheratmyhousefortheweekendandI’dpickherup

afterpractice,Ihadhungupandsentheronetext.

Don’tforgettobringthepresent.

IhadsmiledwhenIhitSend,knowingshe’dgetitandheralreadylargebrowneyeswouldflash

insurpriseandthey’dwidenevenfurther.Ifuckinglovedthatlookonher.IlovedknowingIcould
makehernervous,yetsomepartofhertrustedmeenoughtodowhateverIwanted.

A simple text saying okay had been replied, and then I hadn’t responded until I pulled up to

Stampedjustasshewaslockingup,anovernightbagslungoverhershoulder.

She’dbarelyspokenduringtheforty-minutedriveoutofthecitytomyplace,askingmequestions

aboutSunday’sgame,thelastpreseasongamewhichshouldbeaneasywin.

I’dignoredtheelephantinthecar.Iwantedherreadytoexplode.Iwantedtoreachoutandtouch

herandfeeltheheatofherflushedskin.Iwantedheronedge,sothatwhenIdidfinallytakeherthis
weekend,she’dgoofflikeafirecracker,withoutanywarning.

Nexttome,sittinginasimpletanktop,frayedjeanshortsthatbarelycoveredherass,andherhair

piled high and wild on top of her head, she jumped as I asked the question. She was beautiful. Not
classybeautiful.Notelegant.Infact,therewereprobablythousandsofwomenintheworldyoucould
lineupnexttoShannonandtheotherwomencouldbeclassifiedas“morebeautiful.”

But I thought she was perfect. She was the complete, perfect package, and every time I talked to

her,everytimeIwasaroundher,IbegantorealizemoreandmorethatIdidn’tjustlovefuckingher,I
wasstartingtofallforher.

Her voodoo pussy and handful-sized tits sucked me in, but it was her intelligence and her smile

andhersassthatpulledmetowardherinawayIhadn’texperiencedinsolong,I’dforgottenwhat
fallinginlovefeltlike.

Andthiswasit.Ittookweeks.
Itdidn’tmatter.ShannonHalewasawomanyoudidn’tjustwantonyourarmorinyourbed,you

wanted her pulled tight next to you, walking through life with you. She had the potential to be my
biggestsupporter,mygreatestcheerleader,andmylargestpainintheass.

Iwantedallofit.
“What?”sheaskedandbrushedatendrilofhairbehindherear.“I’msorry,what’dyouask?”
Onesideofmylipsliftedintoagrin.“Iaskedifyou’reexcitedaboutStamped.Areyoureadyfor

theopening?”

“Yeah,Ithink.”Shepausedandbrushedherhandsdownherthighs.Theyweretannednow,andI

knewwhenshewasn’tworkingoratmyplace,she’dfoundaccesstotherooftopofherbuildingthat

hadasmalldeck.Shehadtoldmeonenightonthephonethatshewentupthereonherlunchbreaksto
seethecityandgetsomefreshair.

IhadthoughtofallthethingsI’ddotoherupthereoncethesunset.
Shecontinuedafterpullinginalong,tremblingbreath.“Imean,Istillneedtodosomemarketing,

andthat’sbeenhardeventhoughBeauxputmeintouchwithsomeonebeforeheeverclosedonthe
place.I’vegotadsgoingoutandmywebsiteisupandrunningnowwiththeinformationforthefirst
physical location. That’s been getting a lot of excitement. I didn’t realize I had so many customers
onlinethatlivenearby,whichisgood.”

“Itsoundslikeit’sallfallingtogether.”She’dbeenworkingherassoffeversinceI’dmether.I’d

metfewwomeninmycareerwhowantedtheirown.Itwasthepriceofhavingsomuchdamnmoney
thatyouattractedwomenwhodidn’tcareabouthavingtheirown,justspendingsomeoneelse’s.Inmy
gut,IknewthatifIblewoutmykneetomorrow,heavenforbid,orifIlostallthemoneyinthestock
market,Shannonwouldn’tgiveashit.

“Yeah.Orit’sallgoingtofailandI’mgoingtofallflatonmyface.”
She’dmentionedherconcerns.Onenightinherbed,she’dtrailedafingerdownthecenterofmy

chest,throughmychesthairdowntothewaistbandofmyshorts.I’dgonehardatherlanguidtouch
whileshe’dtoldmeallabouthow,forsomuchofherlife,she’dbeensofocusedonhelpingBeaux
succeedthatshe’dneverhadtimetoachieveanythingofherown.She’dbouncedfromofficejobto
officejobaftercollege,spendingmostofherfreetimeatnightsellingherjewelryandworkingto
increasethatdreamshe’dstartedincollege.

“Ithinkit’sbrave,”Isaidandslidahandtoherthighs.
Shejumpedfromthecontact,andIwrappedmyhandaroundher.Shewassosmallcomparedto

me.MyhandeasilycoveredherlegandslidtothesideswhereItightenedmygrip.

“IthinkyouhavemoredriveandmoreambitionthanmostpeopleI’vemetinmylife,Shannon.

Youwon’tfail.Youdon’thaveitinyou.”

Shelaughedsoftly.Nervously.“It’sjustjewelry.Sillylittlebraceletsandbaublesandcharmsand

earrings.”

“Youmakewomenfeelbeautifulandhappyandexcited.You’resellingyourselfshort.”
“Yeah,”shehuffedandlookedoutthewindow.“I’velearnedrecentlythatIhaveahabitofdoing

that.I’mworkingonit.”

“You’llsucceedatthattoo.Ihavefaithinyou.”Idid.Thestatementrolledoffmytonguesoeasily

itdidn’tevensurpriseme.Basedonthewayshegapedatme,itsurprisedthehelloutofher,though.

ItjustremindedmeIhadonemorethingtodothisweekend—showherexactlyhowmuchshewas

beginningtomeantome.

Ipulledofftheroadandintomydriveway,noticinghowherbreathhitchedwhenwewerefinally

atmyhouse.Wehadn’tbeenbacksincethefirstnight,whenwe’dhadtoleaveearlierthanIwanted.
Now,wehadanentirethirty-sixhourstospendtogetherbeforeIhadtogettothegameonSunday.

Shewasnervousashell.
Iwasexcitedasfuck.
Ipulleduptothegarageandpulledin,leavingthedooropenbehindus.
IknewthatShannonwasexpectingmetotakehersomewhereandfuckherrightaway.Iwantedit.

Butmorethanfeelinghercuntspasmaroundmeasshecameandfeelinglikeshewassuckingthelife
outofmethroughmydick,Iwantedtoshowhersomethingelse.

Me.WhoIreallywas.Nohiding,nowalls…Iwantedtobecompletelytransparentwithher,and

I’dplannedanentireweekendofhowtodoit.

Imetheratthebackofmycar,poppingthetrunkandreachingintograbashoppingbagforher.

I’dboughtthebootsearlierintheweek,beforeshe’dagreedtospendtheweekendwithme,Iwanted
hertohaveherown,somethingshecouldwearhere.

“Here,”Isaidandhandedthebagtoher.
Hereyesjumpedwideasshegingerlyreachedoutandtookthehandlesfromme.
Islammedthetrunkclosedandherbrowsfurrowed.
“Don’tweneedtotakethoseinside?”
“No.We’llgetthemlater.Ihavesomethingelseplannedfirst.Nowopenyourpresent.”
IflashedherawickedgrinasIsaidtheword,knowingexactlywhatshe’dbethinkingof.
“I’mnotsureI’mreadyforanotheroneofyourpresents.”Shegavemeatimidgrinbeforeshe

peeredintothebaglikeI’dloadeditwithrattlesnakes.Thenthosebrowneyespoppedopenandher
grinwidened.

“Boots?”
“Yup.”Inoddedandtooktheboxoutofthebagforher.I’dalsomadesuretoincludethicksocks

soshedidn’tgetblistersonhersoftfeet.“Theseareyours,forwhenyou’reherewithme.Ineedto
runinsideandgrabminewhileyouputthemon,andthenwe’regoingforaride.”

“Onthehorses?”shegasped,clearlysurprised.
Ismirked.“Icouldrideyouanotherway,butIthoughtyou’dlikethehorsesfirst.”
Shebobbedherheadenergetically.“Ido.Iwantthat.Thehorses.”Hercheeksburnedhotpinkand

shewinked.“Thenlater,it’sgoingtobemeridingyou.”

We’dseeaboutthat.Thethoughtmademydickcometolifeinmypants,though,soitwasn’tan

altogetherbadidea.Ibentdownandwrappedanarmaroundherback,pullinghertome.Herfingers
instantlyentwinedbehindmyneckwhenItiltedmyhead.MylipsbrushedagainsthersandIslidmy
tongueinsideherpartedlips,tastingherslowly.Sherespondedimmediately,lettingmetakecontrol
thewayIenjoyedit.Shetastedlikeheavenandmint,softandsweetinmyarms.God.Iwasfallingfast
forthiswoman.“Getyourbootson,”IsaidwhenIpulledaway.IsmackedherassbeforeIstepped
backandgrinned.“I’llberightback.”

***

LeehadalreadypulledoutRalphandWinnebythetimeI’dchangedmyclothesandgrabbedthe

lunchI’dhadhimaskhiswife,Sue,tomakeforus.Thesmallcoolerwasslungovermyshoulderand
IhurriedtothefencewhereLeeandShannonweretalking.

“Apicnic,too?”sheasked,browneyessparkinginthesunwhenshesawthecooler.
“Mywifemadeitforyou,”Leechimedin,grinninglikethecatthatatethecanary.“Thrilledwhen

Oliveraskedherto.Can’trememberatimewhenhe’daskedforapicniclunch.ToSue,itwaslike
Christmas,soexcitedshedancedandsanginthekitchenallmorning,preparingafeastforyoutwo.”

Iglaredathim,butitlackedheat.“TellSuethanks.”
“Willdo.”Hetippedhishattomeandwinked.“Nowyoutwokidsdon’tdoanythingIwouldn’tdo

today.”

Nexttome,Shannongiggled,andIwavedhimaway.“Scram,youoldcoot.”
“I’mgoing,I’mgoing.BebackMonday.”
I kept an eye on Lee as he climbed into the truck, and when he’d turned and driven down the

driveway, both of us waving goodbye to him, I turned back to Shannon and arched a brow. “You

readytoride?”

Hereyeslitwithunabashedexcitement.“Ican’twait.”
“Let’sgothen.”Itookherhandandpulledherthroughthegatedfence.WinneandRalphdanceda

bit before settling down when we walked up to them. “You’ll sit on Ralph because he’s calmer and
won’tthrowyou.”

“Wow,youknowhowtocalmagirl’snerves.”
“Justpreparingyou,”Isaid,smackingherrearend.“I’lltakeHulkoutlaterandexercisehim,but

he’s too ornery for a slow ride, and I didn’t want him getting the other horses excited. Next time,
when you’re ready, I’ll put you on Winne. She’s a bit more feisty, but something tells me you’ll be
abletohandleherinnotime.”IbrushedmyhanddownRalph’scresttohisshoulderuntilIknewhe
wascalm.“Ready,boy?Begoodtoher.She’snewtothis.”

Asifheunderstood,heneighedanddippedhisheadandmetShannon’sgaze.
“Hey,Ralph,”shewhispered,reachingouttotouchhisneck.“You’llbenice,right?”
“He’llsenseyournerves,”Iwarnedher.“Sohemightbejumpyatfirst,butholdontightandsit

withyourbackstraight,centeringyourbalance,andhe’llcalmonceI’monWinne.WhenIgetonher,
I’ll take your reins and guide him for a bit, okay? All you have to do is hold the pommel of the
saddle.”

IpointedtowhereImeantonthesaddleandwaitedforthesignthatshewasready.
ItrolledthroughherlikeitdideverytimeIsuggestedsomethingoutsidehercomfortzone.Itwas

usuallyaboutsex,buthernervesbrightenedandthenevaporatedmuchthesamewaynowassheblew
outabreath.

“Okay.I’mready.”
Itoldherhowtoholdontothesaddleofthehorseandhelpedherup,holdingontoRalph’sreins

aroundhisthroattokeephimsteady.Hewiggledabitonceshewason,andIsawhereyesflashwide
whenhesidestepped,pullingmetowardhimabit,buthequicklysettledback.

“Yougood?”IlookedupatShannonandtheforceofhersmilehitmelikeameteorstraighttomy

chest.Itmademylipspartandmyribsburnasshegrinneddownatme,sofuckingexcitedshecould
lightupthesky.

“Ready,oldman.”
“I’ll show you old man,” I grumbled teasingly and hoisted myself onto Winne. Once I was

saddled,IreachedoverandtookRalph’sreins.Shannon’sgiggleechoedthroughtheaireverytime
Ralphmovedinawayshewasn’tsuggesting.

We took two laps around the large ring while I helped her with her balance and gave her basic

instructionsfordiggingherheelsinandhowtopullonthereinstomakehimstoporslowdown.

The entire time, her grin kept her lips spread wide and she continued that sweet giggling sound

eventhoughIknewshewasfocusedonpayingattentionandlearningtoo.

ShewaslikeBeauxinthatmoment,enjoyingthehelloutoflifewhileatthesametimefocusedon

doingherbest.

ForthefirsttimesinceIcouldremember,itmadejealousyburndeepinsideme.Thatbothofthem

lived like that. Carefree and focused. Kicked back but paying attention. I’d been so focused on one
thingforsolong,Ihadn’trealizeduntilthatmomentwithShannonhowmuchI’dforgottentohave
funalongtheway.

“Thankyou,”Isaid,walkingWinnenexttoRalphuntilIcouldreachoverandplacemyhandon

Shannon’sthigh.“Thankyoufordoingthiswithmetoday.”

I let my sincerity shine in my eyes, hoping like hell she could read everything I felt in that

moment.Itwasperfection.SomethingIwantedtorememberforever.

“I should be thanking you,” she said, her voice awed and soft. “For teaching me this. I can’t

rememberthelasttimeI’vehadsomuchfun.”

Neither did I. Something told me this wouldn’t be the last time I had this much fun, though. Not

withShannonnexttome.

“Readytohitthetrails?”
“Trails?”
“Yup.Youdidn’tthinkwe’dstayintheringallday,didyou?”
Shefrownedabitandthenshookherhead.“Well,yeah.Sortof,butlet’sdoit.”

ChapterTWENTY-ONE

SHANNON

I was on a horse on my way through a wooded trail with Oliver on my left side, and we were

goingtohaveapicniclunch.

ItwasnotwhatIwasexpectingustodotheminutewearrived.Ifiguredit’dinvolveseductionand

fuckingandlubeandbuttplugs.

I hadn’t determined if I was disappointed by this or thankful. Apprehension had chilled my skin

whenhe’dfirstsentthetexttellingmetoremembertheplug.Icouldpracticallyseetheglimmerin
his eye as he’d sent it, knowing what that one sentence would do to me. Yet I hadn’t hesitated in
packing it either. What he wanted involved a certain amount of trust, and while we hadn’t been
togetherlong,OliverwasshowingmethathewastheguywhocouldbetrustedwitheverythingIhad
togivehim.

I was falling for him, against my original plans of moving to Raleigh to make something of

myselfandfigureoutwhoIwaswithoutaman.Oliverdidn’tdetractfromthoseplans,though.With
hisobviousinterestinmydayandinmybusinessandinhisappreciationformywork,plushissexy,
alphasideIsawallthetimewhenweweretogether,hewasprovingtobeamanwhocouldstandat
myside,supportingandencouragingmeinequalmeasuretowhatIgavehim.

Yeah.Iwasfalling—fallingfastandhard,andIdidn’tevencareabouthavingasafetynet.
Nexttome,Oliverledustotheleftabitfartherandthenpulledthehorsestostopatthetreeline.
IgaspedasIsawwherehe’dbroughtus.
“Wow.”Isighed.“Thisisbeautiful.”
Infrontofuswasasmalllakethatjuttedupagainstthetreelineexceptforthesmall,beachyarea

wherehehadledus.

Weweresurroundedbytrees,thesunhighinthecloudlesssky.Ceruleanblueandemeraldgreen

filledmyvisionasmygazewanderedaroundthewateruntilIwaslookingatOliver.Inthebrightsun,
thebaseballcaphegenerallyworewasturnedbackward.Hiseyeswereasbrightasthetrees.

“Thisplaceisbeautiful.”
“Icomeherealot,”hesaid,dismountingfromhishorse.“Helpsmethinkafterashittygame.”
Ilickedmyparchedlips,takenabackattheadmission.
He was always so strong and confident, arrogant and bossy. I imagined after a shitty game, he

went and punched something or ran six miles or did something manly like wood chopping or hay
balingtoreleasetheadrenaline.

Visions of Oliver in his glasses, hands pushing back his hair while he sat in the stillness of this

location,neverwouldhaveoccurredtome.

“Thatsurprisesyou,”hestatedashewalkedaroundWinneandreacheduptohelpmeoffRalph.
Igrinned,thinkingofwoodchoppingandhaybalingagain.Imustnothavehiddenmysurprise

verywell.

“Yeah,alittle.”IthrewalegoverthesideofthehorseandplacedmyhandsonOliver ’sshoulders.

Hishandswenttomywaistandheslowlyhelpedmeoffthelargeandgentlebeast.“Thankyoufor
theride,”Iwhispered,runningmyhanddownRalph’s’sshoulder.“Thatwasgreat.”

“Itakeyouontherideandyouthankmyhorse.”AmusementlitOliver ’svoiceandIturnedback

tohim,rollingtomytoessoIcouldreachhislipswithmine.

“Itwasbeautiful,”Iwhispered.“Thankyou,again.”
Hisglovedhandgentlybrushedalongmycheek.“Anytime.”
Iwantedtobeonthathorseagain.Lots.
HereachedaroundWinneandunsecuredthecoolerhe’dbroughtwithhim.Henoddedtowarda

thick, low branch hanging from a tree a short distance away. “Can you hold this while I secure the
horses?”

“Ofcourse.”Whileheledthehorsesaway,Isteppedthroughtheknee-highgrassandoutontothe

sandybeacharea.Kickingoffmyboots,Ibentdowntopulloffthethicksockshe’dalsogivenme
andthenslidmytoesdeepintothehotsanduntilIreachedthecool,wetsandbeneaththetoplayer.

“Ishouldhavebroughtablanket,”Oliversaid,steppinguptomysideandslippingthecoolerout

ofmygrip.

IwasthinkingofcoolsandandcleanwaterandsunshinewhenIreplied,“Idon’tmindgettinga

littlebitdirty.”

Thebrightsummersunhadnothingtodowiththeheatthatsuffusedmycheeks..IlookedatOliver

throughhalf-liddedeyesandhisexpressionsaidhenoticed.

“Iknow.It’soneofthemanythingsIlikeaboutyou.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I shoved him playfully, not moving the large man a single inch as I

laughed.

“Iknowthat,too.”Heslunghisarmaroundmyshoulderandpulledmeclosertothewater.“ButI

stillmeanit.”

“You’reincorrigible.”
Hetuggedatthemessybunontopofmyheadandgrinned.“Iknow.It’soneofthemanythings

youlikeaboutme.”

Hewasright.Besidesbeingstubbornandarrogant,hisplayfulsidewasoftenhiddenbehindhis

surlyveneer,butIlikeditwhenheshedthatforme.

“Comesitwithme.”Hekickedoffhisownbootsandtookaseatinthesand.Pullinghiskneesup,

hesetthecoolerinbetweenhisspreadfeetwhileheopenedit.Ididn’twastetimejoininghimashe
dugthroughthecooler,emptyingthecontentsbeforeIsawthemealSuehadpreparedforus.

“Wow.Leewasn’tkiddingwhenhesaidSuemadeusafeast.”
Therewerecontainersofpastasalad,fruitsalad,twosandwichesfilledwiththicklyslicedprime

ribonlargehoagiebuns,crackers,cheese,andseveralsmallbottlesofwater.

“Italllooksdelicious.”Ididn’tknowwhattochoosefirstwhenhehandedmesilverware.
Ichosethepastasaladandclosedmyeyeswhenthecoolflavorhitmytongue.“Sogood.”
WhenIopenedmyeyes,IfoundOliver ’sgazefixedfirmlyonme.“Howcanyoubesosexyeven

whenyou’reeating?”

I blushed and looked away, pushing a small chunk of escaped hair behind my ear. Changing the

subjectawayfromme,andthewayhiswordsaffectedme,Ilookedoutatthewaterandasked,“Do
yourparentscometoyourgamesoften?”

“Yeah,theycomewhenevertheycan,althoughit’seasierforthemtogetawayaftertheharvestin

AugustandSeptember.Butcomefall,theytravelwherevertheycanget.”Hisvoicetrailedoffabit
and he took a bite of his food. “Dad’s getting older, moving slower than he used to. He wouldn’t

admitit,butIknowkeepingupthefarmandallthetravelingisgettinghardonhim.”

I saw in my memory banks my own mom, too young to be so frail and working herself to the

bone. Stress and depression along with pneumonia and exhaustion stripped the life right out of her.
“I’m sorry.” I leaned over and rested my hand on his knee and squeezed. “It’s hard to watch your
parentsdeclineandgetold.”

“Yeah.”Hisvoicesoftenedalongwithhiseyes.“Butthey’llbethereatthefirsthomegameina

fewweeks.You’llgettomeetthemthen.IknowyouusuallywatchthegameintheseatsBeauxgets
foryou,butit’dmeanalottomeifyouandMelissawouldwatchitwiththemfromthebox.”

MybodystiffenedfromtheshockbeforeIcouldhideitandhisjawhardened.
“Youdon’twantthat?”
Ishookthesurpriseawayandfoundmybottomlipsuckedinbetweenmyteeth.“No,Ido,IguessI

wassurprisedyou’dwantmeto.It’ssoon.”

IrealizedmymistakeassoonasIsaidit.Hiseyesflashed.
“Game’s not for three weeks, Shannon. That’s almost two months together. That is what we are,

isn’t it?” He leaned forward, setting his sandwich down before he moved to me, stealing the breath
frommylungswithhisintensity.“TellmeI’mnottheonlyonethinkingwewerebuildingsomething
here.”

“God, no. I’m sorry.” Shit. Damn it. I didn’t want to hurt him. I hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was

clearthatIhad,andIhatedthepainmixedwithangerIsawwarringinhishazeleyes.Isetdownmy
pasta salad and scrambled into his lap, loving that not only did he let me, but he settled me right
against him, holding me tight at my waist. “I’m sorry,” I said again, dropping my hands over his
shoulders.“Iwasjustsurprised,that’sall.OfcourseI’llmeetthem.MelissaandIwouldloveto.”

Hislipsfelltomine,histonguedemandingentranceintomymouth.Iacquiescedquickly,loving

thetasteofhimandthefeelofhishotskinagainstmyfingers,burningthroughhisthinshirt.

“We’re together,” he commanded, pulling back and leaving me needing more of him. The kiss

wasovertoosoon,andtoointensetoendatall.Hishandscuppedmycheeksfirmly,hisgazeseeking
mine,seekingthetruthinmyeyesbeforeitspilledfrommylips.

“Yes,”Igasped.“Ofcourseweare.”
Mybodyheatedagainsthisasheheldmethere,notdoinganythingexceptroamingmyfaceand

mybodywithhiseyesbeforehepulledmebacktohim.Rightbeforeheclosedthemandpressedhis
lipstomineagain,IsworeIsawsomethingdifferent…somethingsofterandfilledwithlongingand
relief,ashekissedme.

“Eat,”hegrowledwhenhepulledbackthistime.Histhickerectionpressedagainstmysex.
Foodhadbeenforgottenandmylipspartedattheone-wordcommand.
Whenhesawmyeyesflickerwithconfusion,hesmirked.
“Eatandthenwe’llgetbacktothehouse.You’llneedyourenergylater.”
Afull-bodytremblerolleddownmyspine,makinghimlaughwhenhesetmebacktotheground

andhandedmemysandwich.

IsmirkedwhenIsawhimadjusthimselfandletloosealowgroan.
Bitingintomysandwich,Igrinnedbackathim.“Can’twait.”
Icouldn’t.Icouldn’twaitforwhateveritwashehadplanned,becauseIknewthatlikeeverything

elsethatwasOliverPowell,Iwasgoingtolovethehelloutofit.

***

“Relax,”hemurmured,slidinghishanddownmyback.
Mybodywasslickwithsweat.MyhandsweretogetherinfrontofmewithanothertieofOliver ’s.

Itwaspatternedwithblackandgray,tinydiamondshapes,anditwastheonlythingIcouldfocuson
whilehetriedtogetmetofurtherrelax.Iwasfullyrestrainedtohisheadboardonceagain,depleted
fromtheorgasmhe’dalreadygivenmewithhismouthandhisfingersbeforehe’dflippedmeover,
pulledupmyass,anddemandedIspreadmyknees.

“Please,” I whispered, shifting. I knew what was coming. He’d already dug through my bag and

takenoutthepresenthe’dgivenme,thepresentthathadmockedmeandscaredmeandfilledmewith
trepidation,butwasnowtheonlythingIwantedinsideofmebesideshiscock.“Hurry.”

Heleanedoverme,hischestbrushingagainstmyback,hisfulllipsandwarmbreathatmyear.

“No.Wegoslow.”

I’dburstintoflamesifhewentslow.Oneorgasmwassuddenlyneverenoughwithhim.Assoon

asI’dclimax,he’dbringmetothebrink,settingmeonfirewithhistouchesandkisses.

He’dplayedwithmypuckeredholewhileheatemeout,lickingmeandteasingme,ignitingmy

entirebody.Hisfingershadpressedandopenedmeslightly,andwhenhe’ddonethat,I’dexploded
intoaballofheatsogreatthatIthoughtImightsetthehouseonfire.

Nowhewasdoingmore,preparingmeforhimbutkillingmeintheprocess.
“Fuck.”Igaspedashishandranthroughmycreaseatmybackside.Hegatheredmywetnessfrom

myslitandpushedittowardtheback,makingmetremble.

“You’re on birth control, right?” he asked and my breath stuttered. He’d been inside me once

before,toldmehewasclean,andatthetimeIhadn’tgivenhimthattrust.

“Yes.” He slid two fingers inside of my pussy, and I groaned, closing my eyes. “Please, Oliver.

I’mdying.”

“Youwon’t.Iwanttobebareinsideofyoutonight.”Hepushedandpulled,twistedhisfingersand

drovemetotheedgesoquicklyIthoughtImightshatterbeforehedidanythingelse.

“Yes,”Ibreathed.“Iwantthat.”
Idid.Itrustedhimwitheverypartofme.He’dshownmewhohewasandwhohewantedtobe.

TherewasnothingaboutOliverPowellthatwasn’tmakingmefallinlovewithhim.

Hisfingerspaused,makingmegroanwithfrustration.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with need and emotion. He pressed his hand to my

cheekandturnedmyheadsooureyesmet.“Thankyouforthat.”

Iswallowedthickly,feelingaburndeepinmythroatasIsawhowoverwhelmedhewaswithwhat

I’dgivenhim.

He’dwantedmetotrusthim.NeededtoknowIdid.
“Please,” I whispered, begging now and not caring in the least. I pushed against his fingers still

insideme.“Fillme.Ican’twaitanymore.”

Hisexpressionturnedwickedwithdesireashegrinnedandkissedmewithaferocity,stealingmy

breath,beforehepulledback.

The click of the bottle of lube echoed in the air like a fog horn and his fingers slid out of my

pussy.

“Relax,”hemurmured,coachingmeagainandsoothingmewithahandonmybackandmyass.

“Itwon’tstingifIgoslow,butit’llfeelbetterifyoudon’tfightagainstit.”

Ipressedmyforeheadintohisbed,grippinghistiewithmyfingertips.“Ready.”
Hecoatedmewithlube,thecoolingsensationsparkinggoosebumpsonmybackside,beforehe

slid a finger inside me there. It burned and stretched but was so deliciously wonderful at the same
time.

Ipushedbackintohim,groaningatthesensationIwasalreadybeginningtoenjoy.
“Damn,thisissodamnhot,”hegrowledasheremovedhisfinger.
Theroundedtipoftheplugthathadonceterrifiedmebrushedagainstmyopening.Now,curiosity

andneedtoppledit.Hepushed,twisteditwhileIforcedmybodytorelax.

Andthenhepushedin.Ibracedmyselfwithmyelbowsandknees,pushingintothebedatthesame

time his other hand snaked around to my front. He played with my nipples, ran his hand over my
stomach,andwhisperedencouragingwordstomeasheslowlypusheditinfarther.

“Fuck.”IgaspedasIlettheplugbegintowiden,stretchmeopenandfurtherthanhehadbefore.

Theburnwasminorcomparedtothesensationsriotinginsideme.

“You’re doing so well,” he crooned, sliding his tongue and his teeth against the column of my

exposedmythroat.“Sofuckinggood.Ican’twaittofuckyouwhileyou’refullofthisplug.You’re
goingtoloseyourdamnmind.”

Ialreadyhad.Everythinghedidmademythighstremble,mademewetter.Mademycoretighten

andpulse.

“Ah.”HepressedthepluginsideofmeandIgroaned.Hishandatmystomachdriftedlower,his

thumbrunningalongmyclit.

“Fuckinghell,you’resoaked.”
“Iknow.Please.”Iwantedmore.Neededmore.Ihadneverbeensorestrained,sofull…sofucking

needyIthoughtmyheartwouldshootoutofmychest.“Oliver.”

Hekissedmycheekagainandmovedbackuntilhewasbehindme,hiskneespushingmeapart,

andthenhewaspushinghisthickcockinsideofme.

Mybackarchedatthesensation—thefullnessinmybacksidealongwithhimnow.Bare.Hard.
Sodamngood.
“Hell,you’resotightnow,Icanhardlymove.”
“Doit.”
My plea frayed the last thread of his control and Oliver moved. He pulled out and thrust in,

slamminginsidemeuntilhepushedmeforward.Myarmsslidoutinfrontofme,hishandsonmy
hipskeptmeopenforhim.Igrippedhistiefeverishlyashefuckedme,slamminghisdickinsideof
mebeforeslowlydraggingitout.Everysensationintensifiedtenfoldasheslidalongtheridgedflesh
insideofme

Hefuckedmefrantically,buryinghimselfinsideofme.Hewassplittingmeapartandatthesame

timeputtingmebacktogether.

“Oliver!” I screamed his name as my orgasm hit me out of the blue. I squeezed my eyes closed

againsttheonslaughtofhishipspoundingagainstmineandthewildsensationsshakingmybody.

“Fucking beautiful,” he groaned, slowing down as the aftershocks left my body. He leaned

forward,andwithonehandquicklyuntiedmywristsbeforeheslidoutofmeandturnedmetomy
back.

Heslidbackinside,pushingmylegswideandhigh.“Holdontoyourlegs.Keepthemspreadfor

me.”

Igrippedthemdespitemyarmsfeelinglanguidandmybodylikejelly.
“Eyesonme,”hegrowledashedroppeddownclosertome.“EveryfuckingtimeIslideinsideof

youIfeeleverypartofyou.”

Everytimeheslidinsideofme,Igavehimeverypartofme.ItwasunavoidableandI’dlongsince

quittryingtoholdanythingback.

Ipressedmylegstohissidesandrestedahandtohischeek.“Youfeelamazinginsideofme.”
Everyshiftofhisbodymadetheplugscrapeagainstme,causingdeliciousfrictioninsidemeand

sendingmyriadsensationsthroughoutmybody.

Ikeptmyeyesonhim,myhandpressedtohischeekashecontinuedfuckingme,slidinginand

out quickly and smoothly, until his jaw tightened and his teeth gritted together. “Fucking hell,” he
groanedanddroppedhisheadandhiseyecontactfromme.“I’mgoingtocome.”

“Please,”Iurged.“Insideofme.”
Iwantedhim,allofhim.
Hethrustthreemoretimes,seatinghimselfballsdeepinsideofmeandatthesametimefillingme

withhimashecame,andashedid,hegroaned,“Damn.Ifuckingloveyou.”

ChapterTWENTY-TWO

OLIVER

Shit.
I’dsaidit.
Itwastoosoon.Waytoofast.Ihadn’tmeanttosayanything,butithadbeenpulledfrommylips

withtheforceofmyorgasm,renderingmeincapableofholdinganythingbackfromher.

Shegaspedfromsurpriseandherfingersonmycheekflinched.Beneathme,herabsflexed.
Icouldmaskit.Ilovefuckingyou.ThatwaswhatImeant.
ExceptIdidn’tmeanthatandI’dtoldherIwasn’taliar.
“You’refreakingout,aren’tyou?”Iasked,unabletokeepthehumoroutofmytoneinaneffortto

covermynerves.

Ikeptmydickinsideofherwarm,amazing-feelingcuntandforcedmyselftomeetherintheeyes.
Ihadneverbeenasissy,neverrunfrommyfears,andIwasn’tgoingtodoitnow.NotwhenI’d

laideverythingoutonthetableforher.

“Youdon’tneedtosayitback,”IsaidasIliftedmyheadandmethergaze,thewayshenibbledon

herbottomlip.“AndIdidn’tmeantoscareyou.Didn’tmeantosayiteither,butthatdoesn’tmeanI
don’tmeanit.”

“You…”Sheblinkedrapidly.Herchestthunderedagainstmineasfastasminewasbeatingagainst

hers.“Youloveme?Likeloveme,loveme?Orlovefuckingmeloveme?”

“I’mbeginningtothink…”Isaid,bracingmyselfononeelbowandpressingmyfingertipstoher

hairline with my other hand. I trailed my fingers through her curls, untangling them from where
they’dbunchedaroundhershoulder.“…thatthereisn’tapartofyouthatIdon’tlove,Shannon.”

“Wow.”Sheswallowedandblinkedharshly.“Ijust…it’ssofast.Iwasn’texpectingthis.”
“You don’t have to feel the same way.” After her freak-out at meeting my parents earlier, I

wouldn’t be surprised. Didn’t mean I didn’t have the fucking urge to hear it, though—to know
someonelookedatmeandfeltthewayaboutmeasIdidaboutthem.

“No,”shesaid.Sherelaxedbeneathme.“Ido.Idofeelthesameway.”
Aslowgrinbeganstretchingmylips.“Youdo?”
“OfcourseIdo.Youconsumeme.EverythingaboutyouissomethingI’mfallinginlovewith.It’s

just...thespeedofeverythingscaresme.”

“Fuckthespeed,”Isaid,slidingoutofherdespitewantingtobeburiedinherforever.“Ilivemy

lifefullthrottle,nolookingback.Noregrets.”

Shepausedbeforewhispering,“Nolookingback.Ilikethat.Fullspeedahead.”
I rolled to the side and pulled her with me. She wrapped her legs around mine, tangling us

togetherasIbroughtherlipstomine.

“Iloveyou,Shannon.”
Her lips twitched before her shoulders relaxed and she smiled up at me, thick black lashes

rimmingherbeautifulchocolate-coloredeyes.“Iloveyou,too.”

I hugged her to me tighter, kissed her softly so I could show her without words exactly what

hearingthatfromhermeantfromme,andwhensherelaxedintomyhold,softeningtowardmeand
givingmeeverythingshehadwithoutwords,Ipulledaway.

“Letmegogetaclothandgetuscleanedupsowecansleep.”
Hereyelidsopenedslowly,asifshewasalreadyhalfwaytodreamland.
Ifeltthesameway.

***

IopenedmyeyesinthemorningandgrinnedassoonasIsawShannonsleepingnexttome.She

hadsmallfrecklesdancingoverthebridgeofhernose,herpinklipsslightlypartedandlongblack
eyelashesfanningfromclosedlids.

I wanted to kiss every inch of her but withheld myself. I’d worked her over hard last night,

multiple times after we’d rested and eaten dinner, taking her again and again long into the night. I
shouldhavestillbeensleeping,butitwasthecurseofamanwhogrewuponafarmandlivedalife
thatrequiredearliermorningsthatpreventedsleepingin.

Thesunwasn’tupyetandIhadworktodo.
Adjustingmyalreadyharddick,IgroanedasIbrushedagainstShannon’scheekandslidoutof

bed,carefulnottowakeher.

Shedidn’tmoveatallasIpulledawayandthrewontheshortsandshirtI’dwornthedaybefore.I

didn’tneedcleanclothestomuckoutsomestallsandfeedthehorses.

WhenIcameoutofthebathroomafterputtingonmyglassesandbrushingmyteeth,shewasstill

lyinginthesameposition,bothofherhandspressedtogetherbeneathhercheek,eyesstillclosedand
lipsstillparted.

IstartedapotofcoffeeandtookbaconoutofthefreezerwhileItookafewminutestowakeup.

Whilethecoffeebrewed,Istaredoutthewindow,thinkingofthenightbefore,thethingswe’dsaidto
oneanother.

Imeanteveryword.
Ilovedher.LovedherinawaythatIknewifshewalkedawayfrommelikeSerenahad,itwould

takeinfinitelylongertorecoverfrom.Ihadn’tplannedonit—hadneverplannedonbeingmarried
againorlovingawoman.Forthepastsevenyears,I’dtakenwhatIwantedwhenIwanteditwithout
remorseforthebehavior.ThewomenItooktobedwantedthesamethingsasmeoronlywantedto
usemeformymoney.

Ihadnoqualmsaboutusingthemfortheirpussywhentheywereusingmeforwhatwasinmy

wallet.

I had no regrets about the previous night, or telling her I loved her. I only hoped that when she

woke, she still felt the same way—that she hadn’t said the words back to me out of a sense of
obligationorbecauseofthecrazy,hotfuckingsexwe’dhad.

“Nice,asshole,”Imutteredtomyself,chucklingwhileIfilledamugofcoffeeformyself.“You

thinkyourdickissoperfectitcanfuckwithawoman’scommonsense.”

“Itcan.”
I flinched at the voice behind me and turned to see Shannon. Her shoulder rested against the

doorframetomykitchen,hereyesstillsleepyandonlyhalfopen.

“Whatareyoudoingup?”Iasked,smilingatwhatshe’dsaid.

Shewalkedtowardme,collapsingagainstmybodywhenshereachedmeandlazilywrappedher

handsaroundmywaist.“Smelledcoffee.Wokeupwithoutyou.Whatareyoudoingup?”

“Needtofeedthehorses.”
Shetiltedherheadbackandgrinned.“CanIhelp?”
“Youwantto?”
“Yeah,it’llbefun.”
Goddamn.Sheblewmeawayateverycorner.
“Thisisthesecondtime,youknow,thatyou’veruinedmyplansforwantingyoutosleepinsoI

canfuckyouawakewhenyou’vebeenhere.”

Thosesleepyeyeswenthazywithsomethingentirelydifferentfromtiredness.
“Thenyoushoulddothefuckingfirstandworryaboutthehorsesandcoffeelater,”shesuggested,

wrigglingherbrowsinresponse.

“Youreallywanttohelpme?”Iasked,stillsurprisedshe’dbewilling.Shedidn’tneedto.
“Yeah…youcangetmedirtyandthencleanmeup.”Sheyawnedoverherwordsandcoveredher

mouth.

“Don’tyouknow,Shannon,”Iwhispered,unabletohidethegruffnessinmytone,“thatIlikeyou

filthy?”

She laughed softly and yawned again. “Of course you do. I need coffee before I go feed the

horses.”

I let her go after dipping down and brushing my lips against hers, giving her a sweet, closed-

mouthkiss.

“By the way,” she said, turning to me with a coffee mug pressed close to her lips, “you still

haven’tfuckedmewiththosesexyglasseson.”

Iadjustedthemonthebridgeofmynoseandwinked.“We’llseetothatlater.”

***

“Youdoingokay?”Iasked,myvoicetightwiththeneedtosinkinsideofher.Instead,Ihadthree

fingersinherassasshewrithedbeneathme,herlegsspreadwideonmybed.

ItwasSundaynight,andI’dhadtheweekendofmyfantasies.Inowhadamemoryoffuckingher

everywhereinmyhouse,everywayI’dwantedtotakeher.She’dworkedbesidemewiththehorses,
andwhenweweren’twalkingaroundmylandwhereIshowedherallmyfavoritepartsonhorseand
onfoot,we’dspenttimeinfrontofthetelevisionhangingout,cookingmealstogether.

This morning she went to the game with me, sat next to Rudolph’s wife in the seats Beaux had

boughtforher,andcheeredusontoavictory.

Andthebestpart?Itwasonlythebeginning.
I’dwantedtofuckheronelasttimeinmybed,slowlyandpassionately,takingallthetimewehad

left.Butthenshe’dlookedatmeandgrinned,blushhittinghercheeks,andshe’dtimidlyasked,“Can
youfuckme…there…withyourglasseson?”I’dchangedcourseimmediately.

I’dobligeheranythingwhenshelookedatmelikethat.
“I’mgood.”Herlipspartedandhereyeswidened,lookingdowntowhereIwastakingmytime

preparingher.

“You’rebeautiful,youknowthat?”
Shenodded,butdoubtstillwarredinhercocoa-coloredeyes.Thatwasokay,too.Ihadallthetime

intheworldtoprovethattoher.

“Please,Oliver.”
Iloveditwhenshebegged.Loveditwhenshebuckedherhipstowardme,seekingmoreofwhat

shewantedfromme.Butthebegginghitmestraightinmyalreadyharddickeverydamntime.

“Youneedtobeready,”Isaid,lookingdownatherglisteningpussy.IfIrolledmytonguearound

herclit,she’dcomeinaheartbeat.“Bare?”Iaskedagain.I’dtakenherthatwayeverynight,butthis
wasdifferent.

“Yes,”sheansweredimmediately,panting.“Now.I’mgood.Ready.”
Ileaneddown,laughingsoftlywhileIkissedherandusedmyfingerstocontinuestretchingher.I

swallowedhergroansandmyballsgrewtightandheavy.

Fuck.I’dshootassoonasIwasinsideher.Shewassotight.Sohot.
Sofuckingdeliciouslynaughty.
TherewasnowayIwouldn’thavefalleninlovewiththiswoman.
Sliding my fingers out of her, I placed my tip at her entrance. “I’ll go slow,” I assured her,

pressingagainsther.“Tellmeifyouneedmetostop.”

Her hands hit my hips and she stole my breath with the desperation in her voice. “Don’t stop.

Never.”

Slowly,Ibegantoslideintoher,watchingherexpressionasIstretchedherwiderthanshe’dbeen

before.

HereyeswidenedinsurpriseandthensheflinchedasIpressedtheheadofmycockinsideofher.
“Justaminute,Shan.LetmegetinsideandI’llstop.”
Shenoddedfrantically,herfingersdiggingintomyhips.“Hurry.”
Ipushedinsideofher,slidingmyfingersagainstherclittogiveheranothersensationtofocuson.
“Justrelax.Thereyougo,goodgirl.”Herhipsarchedup,seekingmore,andthatonequickmove

fromherpushedmedeepinsideofher.

“Fuck,”Igroaned,closingmyeyes.Shewaslikeadamnvise,squeezingmydickhardandtight

whilesuckingmeintoheratthesametime.

“Move,”shemoaned.“Movesomething,anything.”
I bit back a laugh at her desperateness and slid my fingers against her clit. She was so fucking

drenched.Hotandwet,hercreamglistenedalloverthelipsofherpussy.

Islidmydickinfurther,waitingforasignthatithurttoomuchbuteverytimeIpushedin,she

pulledmecloser.

“Sogood,”shewhimperedwhenI’dfinallysunkinsideofher.“Please.Ineedmore.”
Thatplease.Itundidmeeverytime.
“I can’t go slower anymore,” I warned her, resting one of my hands on her hips, holding her

againstme.Thewallsofherassclenchedtight,herpussyandclitwereswollenanddripping,andall
ofitwasabouttosendmeovertheedge.

She cried out my name as I pulled out and pushed back inside of her. Then I began moving,

pressingmythumbagainstherclitbeforeteasinghercuntwithmyfingers.

“Fuckinghell,”Igroaned,watchingherlegsbegintoshakeasshequiveredfromheadtotoe.
Iletloose,fuckingherlikeananimal,likeIneededhertobreathe.
SomedeeppartofmewhisperedthatIdid.
Ifuckingneededthiswoman.Ineededhercuntandhermouth,andIneededherdamnheartand

soul.

“Oliver!”shecriedoutasherorgasmtookherovertheledge.

Iwasmesmerizedbythewayherbodybuckedwildbeneathme.Mythumbandfingerpinchedher

clitasshebegantoslow,sendingherstraightintoanotherorgasm.

Myownclimaxstartedatmyspine,thatfuckingbuzzofheatthatwentstraighttomyballsandmy

dick.

Ithrustmyselfinsideofherdeep,explodingallofmeintoher,hopingitwasenoughtokeepher

connectedtomeforever.

“Shannon,”Igroanedasmydickstilltwitcheddeepinsideherass.“You’resodamnincredible.”
Herhandsslidfrommyhipstomyback.Herfingertipslightlytraileddownmyspineandaround

to my sides. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.” She opened her eyes, blinked slowly, and smiled
beforeshefrowned.“Iloveyou.Pleasedon’thurtme.”

Damn.
Hervulnerability,herfear,wentstraighttomychestandIpulledoutofherslowlybeforeIfell

betweenherlegs.

“Never,”Ipromised.“I’lltrymybest,everysinglefuckingdaytoneverhurtyou.”
Iwasamanofmyword.Alwayshadbeen.
IhopedlikehellI’dproveittruewithher.

ChapterTWENTY-THREE

SHANNON

Itwasofficial.Iwascompletelyfreakingout.
“Thisisamazing,”Melissasaid,bouncinguptomewithtwoglassesofchampagneinherhand.
We’dbeenbusysinceoneo’clockwiththeofficialgrandopeningofStamped.Wehadchampagne

andtinycupcakesandbite-sizedcookiesbroughtinfromabakeryjustdownthestreet,andwewere
almostoutofthehundredswe’dordered.

I’dmademoremoneyinonedaythanIhadinalmostsixmonths.
Myheadhadn’tstoppedspinning.
Thelasttwoweekshadcompletelyflownby.I’dspentmostnightswithOliveratmyplaceorone

ofhis.Sometimeswemetathishotelcrashpad,andonweekendswewenttohishouse.Othernights
hecamedirectlytoStampedandhadtoalmostphysicallyhaulmeoutofmyworkroom.

Iwasinwayovermyhead.Myonlinesaleshadstartedboomingafterthestreetfair,frommostly

local customers who had stopped by my booth. I’d had dozens of previous customers contact me
wanting more jewelry after seeing my website had been updated with the information of my first
physicalstorelocation.

MyfingerswerecutandcallusedandbandagedandworndownfromalltheworkI’dbeendoing.
ThefirstdayhadcompletelyblownmymindandIoweditalltoBeaux,hisfaithinme,andthe

marketingcompanyhe’dhiredformetohelpwiththeopening.

“Idon’tknowwhattodowithallthis,”IsaidasItookanotherglassofchampagnefromherhand.

Itwasonlymythirdoftheday.I’dbeensippingitslowlydespitewantingtochugbottleafterbottleto
assuagemynerves.“ThisismorethanIimagined.I’mgoingtoneedhelp,Ithink,tokeepupwiththe
production.”Islidheraglance.“Knowanyjewelrydesignerswhocouldhelp?”

Sheshotmealookthatwasclear.“Hellno.You’retheonlypersonIknowwho’sthistalented.I’m

justgladyou’refinallyseeingitforyourself.”

Ishookmyheadandlookedaround,awedattheamountofpeopleinmystore.Itwaspackedfull.

Productwasflyingofftheshelvesfasterthanwecouldreplaceit.

Iwasgoingtohavetodosomethingifthiswasn’tsomerareThursdayfluke.
AtleasthiresomeonetohelpmeworkinthestoresoIcouldspendmytimecreating.
Needlesstosay,mytimewithOliverhadbeenhelpfulinmorewaysthanone.Helistenedtome

bitch,hesupportedme,hegavemeideasonadvertisingwhenIwasstressedout,andthenwhenIwas
super-stressed, he found multiple ways, almost nightly, to help me relax. I did the same for him, I
knewit.Heneverhesitatedtobounceideasoffme.Somenightswetalkedplays.Somenightswejust
hungoutinfrontofthetelevision,barelywatchingwhateverwasonandtalkingaboutourlives.

Ihadfalleninlovewithhimquickly,painlessly.SoeasilythatsomedaysIwonderedifitwasalla

dream.

Ifitwas,Ineverwantedtowakeupfromit.
Especiallynotonthisday.

I’dmadeotherdecisionsinthepastfewweeks,too.WhileI’dtoldOliverthatIdidn’twanttobein

hisshadow,withallthesupportIknewhewasgivingme,Iwantedtodothesameforhim.Becauseof
that,andpartlystilloutofmyfearoffailingatthiswholerunning-my-own-businessthing,Stamped
wasonlyopenfourdaysaweek.Mymarketingcoordinator,Lacy,assuredmewecouldusethatto
ouradvantage.IwanteditclosedonSundayssoIcouldatleastmakesureIwasabletoattendhome
games. We were open from Wednesday through Saturday, when the arts district had its busiest foot
trafficanyway.

Basedontheday’sopening,itseemedtobeworking.
Iwalkedaroundforafewminutes,speakingwithcustomers,unabletokeepthethrilledgrinoff

myfacebeforeImovedbackbehindthecountertohelpMelissaringupseveralsales.

“Thanksforbeinghere,bytheway.”
Sherolledhereyesasshesaidgoodbyetoanothercustomer,handingherthehotpinkbagfilled

withpurchases.“You’resostupid.You’vethankedmeathousandtimes,andwhereelsewouldIbe?
Plus”—sheturnedtomeandwiggledherbrows—“Ican’twaitforthegamethisweekend.Allthose
hot,sexymenonthefield.MewatchingyoubeanervouswreckaroundOliver ’sparents.”

“Don’tremindme,”Igroanedandtossedbackalargeswallowofbubblychampagne.
“It’llbefine.”Shehip-checkedmeasshecameclose,wrappingonearmaroundmyshoulderand

wavingtheotheroutattheseaofpeople.“Andsowillthis.You’vedonegood,amazingthingsina
shortamountoftime,andI’mreallyproudofyou.”

EmotionburnedthebacksofmyeyesandIblinkeditaway.“Thisfeelslikeadream.”
“It is.” She turned to me, both of her hands on my shoulders, and stared directly into my eyes.

“Andit’syourdream,finallycometrue.Nowyougettoenjoyit.”

Shewinkedandturnedawaywhenhereyespoppedopenandhermouthdropped.Withthesudden

quietinthespace,youcouldhaveheardapindrop—andthenitchangedtoquiet,quickmurmursand
peoplereachingfortheircellphones.

OliverandBeauxandKolbypaidnoneofthewomenanyattentionastheypushedthemselvesinto

thedoorway.

Theyheadedstraightforme,allwearingballcapsbutclearlyunabletohidewhotheywere.
“Hey,” I said, breathless as Oliver sauntered directly to me on the other side of the counter. He

didn’tcareaboutthespacebetweenusashereachedout,cuppedmyneckwithhishand,andpulled
metowardhim.

He kissed me quick and hard, pulling back with a large smile. “This place is packed. We had to

parkblocksaway.Goodday?”

“Amazing,”Isaid,breathlessfromthekissandthesurpriseatseeinghim.“Whatareyoudoing

here?”

“Youthinkwe’dmissthis?”Hetiltedhishead,notgivingmemuchspacetobackaway.
Intruth,Idid.Theyhadtheirfirsthomegameinafewdaysandtheirpracticeshadbeenbrutal.I

figuredthey’dallbetootiredtostopby,andIdidn’tblamethem.

He must have noticed I thought that because his grin faded and he shook his head. “Someday

you’llrealizeyou’renottheonlypersonwhowilldoeverythingtheycanforthepersontheylove.
Untilthen,I’llhavetoworkhardertoteachyou.”

Hekissedmeagainandpulledback.
IwasquicklyturnedandtwistedandpulledintoBeaux’sarms.Forabriefsecond,Isawandheard

theclicksofflashesfromphones.

“Hey,Sis!”Beauxboomed,Iwasguessingmoreforthecrowdthanme.“Congratulationsonthis!

Thisplaceistheshit.”

Islappedhisshoulderwhenheputmedownandquicklyturnedaway.Icouldn’tletanyoneseeme

crynow,notevenhappytears.

“Thanks.”Isniffedandreachedformychampagne.“Howareyouguysdoing?”
“Sore as hell, more ready than anything for Sunday,” Beaux said, helping himself to a glass of

champagne.Beforegivingmetimetoprepare,heraisedhisglassintheairandshoutedforeveryone
tohear,“Tomysister!Andtothebestdamnjewelryshopintown!”

Dozensofwomenraisedtheirglassesintheirair,starsintheireyesastheylookedatthemenin

frontofmeandnexttome,asiftheycouldn’tbelievewhattheywereseeing.

“ToStamped!”Beauxshoutedagain.
“ToStamped!”thecustomersshoutedback.
IglaredatBeauxashetossedbackhischampagneinonequickchug.“I’mgoingtokillyou.”
Hewinkedatme.“Thinkofthisasmorefreepublicity.Chicksthinktheycancomehereandsee

meandyou’llhavealinewrappedaroundthisplaceformonths.”

“Youregoknowsnobounds.”
Herolledhiships,elicitingmorecheersforanentirelydifferentreason.“Hey.Ifyougotit,flaunt

it.”

“You’readork.”
“And you’re my sister, who’s always supported me and cheered for me. Now it’s my turn. Get

fuckingusedtoit.”

Withthatpartingshot,hegrabbedanotherglassofchampagneandwalkedoutfrombehindthe

counter,pullingmewithhim.

Quickly,BeauxandKolbyweresurroundedinaseaofwomenclamoringfortheirattentionand

autographs.

Oliversidledupnexttome,onearmwrappedaroundmybackwhileotherwomenaskedhimto

sign anything they could find in their purses. Never once did he take his arm off me, indicating
exactlywhoIwastohim.

There was something about that—his desire to be honest and forthright, to not hide our

relationshipfromanyone—thatcausedmetotakeanothersipofchampagne,leanintohisside,and
enjoythehelloutoftheride.

IlookedupandcaughtMelissa’sgaze.Herlightblue,happilyshiningeyesflickeredfromOliver

backtome,andthenshewinked.Dream,shemouthed.Loveyou.

SheturnedawaytoringupanothersalebeforeIcouldrespond,butItookherpoint.
Thiswasmydream.Allofit.AndIwasgoingtoliveit.

***

“Faster,”IwhimperedintohisthroatasOlivermovedinsideofme.
“Slow,”heresponded,lookingdownatme.“Iwanttofeelyou.”
Itwasmorning,threedaysafterStamped’sgrandopening,andnothinghadsloweddown.
Thatdaywasthefirsthomegameoftheseason.Theteamwas2-0,hopingtomakeitthreewins

that afternoon. I hadn’t expected Oliver to wake me up that morning, his tongue doing delicious
thingstomypussybeforeI’dfullyawakened,butI’dquicklygonewiththeflow.

Now,hewasdrivingmemad.

Heslidoutandinagain,mykneespulleduphightothesidesofhimsoheslidindeeper.
Iwasclose,soclose,buthisfrustratingpacewaskeepingmyorgasmjustoutofreach.
“Oliver.” I gasped, as he hit a new spot deep inside of me. My fingers pressed against his

shouldersasIarchedintohim.

“Tellmeyouloveme.”
“Iloveyou,”Isaidwithouthesitancy.
Hiseyessearedintomeashegrittedhisteethtogether.
“Please.”Ipressedoneofmyhandstohischeek.“I’msoclose.”
Hegruntedashethrustintomehard.“Likethis?”In.Out.Harder.Notfaster.
God.Hewaskillingme.
Myhipsarchedupandintohim,tryingtogetthefrictionIneededthathewaskeepingfromme.
“Ineedyou.”
“Youhaveme,”heresponded,soforcefullythatIknewhewaslosingcontrol.
He pulled back, and I took the small break in our skin pressing against skin to slide my hand

betweenus.

“Fuck,yes.Doit.Getyourselfoff.”
Itdidn’ttakelong.Hislong,harddickinsideme,movingslow,grindingagainstmewhenhewas

fullyinside,myfingershelpedtakemeovertheedgeandItightenedaroundhim,myheelsdigging
intohislowerbackasIcame.

“Sodamnbeautifulwhenyoucome,”hegrowledanddroppedhisforeheadtomine.“Holdonto

metight.”

Ididwhatheasked,wrappingmylimbsaroundhimwhilehepoundedintome,hisspeedfinally

increasinglikeI’daskedfor,drawingoutmyorgasm.

“Oliver.”
“Fuck, Shannon.” He seated himself to the root and came on a growl, my name reverberating

throughthewallsofthebedroominhishotelroom.

We’dstayedtherethenightbeforewhenhe’ddraggedmeoutofStamped,myfingerscramping

fromworkingsohard.

MelissahadbeenwithmeeventhoughshewasstayingatBeaux’ssinceIhadyettobuyanyguest

roomfurniture.WhenOliverhadshownup,hisinterestanddesireclearinhiseyes,she’dpractically
shovedmeoutthedoor,promisingshe’dfindsomethingtodotokeepherbusyforthenightbeforeI
pickedherupforthegame.Hisparentswereintown,stayingathishousefortheweekend,andhe
saidhewantedthenightalonewithme.I’dmeetthemforbreakfastbeforeadrivertookthemtothe
gameearly,butIwasstilltryingnottothinkaboutthatpartyet.

IthadtakenonlyafewhoursbeforephotosofusatStampedonThursdayhadsurfacedonlocal

gossip sites. Then they’d gone viral on social media platforms. My notifications had been dinging
throughtheroofsomuchthatI’dfinallyshutdownmyphoneearlierintheday.

IwasterrifiedastowhatOliver ’sparentswouldthinkaboutme.WhenIhadmetPatrick’sparents,

they’dmadeitcleartheydidn’tthinksomeonefromarun-downhomewithasinglemomwasanyone
closetobeinggoodenoughfortheirson.

Based on the things the media had been saying about me when they saw Oliver ’s arms wrapped

aroundme,orthekisswe’dsharedwhenhe’dfirstshownup,itwasalsoclearthathalfofAmerica
thoughtthesamethingaboutOliverandme.

I’dtriednottoletitbotherme.Iknewthetruth.Insomecrazyway,OliverandIfit.
Buthisparentsmightnotthinkso,andIwasterrifiedtospendthreehoursthatafternoonwatching

agamewithpeoplewhomighthateme.

IblewoutabreathatthethoughtasOliverslidoffme,drapingasheetovermyhipsashemoved.

“Stayhere.Ihavesomethingforyou.”

“Anotherpresent?”Iasked,myfacepaling.
Helaughedandsaunteredtothebathroomtocleanup.“You’lllikethisone,Ipromise.”
I’dlikedthelastone,eventually.I’dlikeditsomuchI’dwantedhimtotakemyassoverandover

again—andwhilethere’dbeenplayinthelastcoupleofweeks,ithadn’thappened.

Ithoughtaboutaskinghimforitthen,butrememberedhisgamelater.
When he came out of the bathroom, still naked and completely confident in his body he walked

directlytotheclosetandcameoutholdingawhitebox—thekindofboxdressshirtscamein.

“What’sthis?”Isatupandbroughtthesheetwithmetocovermybreasts.
Oliversatdownnexttome,hishipstothesideofmineonthebed.Hereachedoutandtuggedthe

sheetuntilitfelldown.BeforeIcouldreachforit,heleanedcloserandpressedhislipsrightbetween
mybreasts,softlyandslowly,makingmynippleshardenatthesensation.

“Hey,”Iwhispered,runningmyhandslightlythroughhisshaggyblondhair.Hedraggedhiseyes

uptomine.“Carefuloryou’llstartsomethingyouwon’tbeabletofinish.”

“I’llfinish,”hepromised.“Later.ButIwantyoutohavethis.”
Hesatbackupandheldtheboxouttome.Hisbottomlipdisappearedbetweenhisteeth.
Hewasnervous.
Itwasn’talookIsawonhimfrequently,ifever,andmyhandstrembledslightlyasItookthebox

fromhim.

“YoualwayswearBeaux’sjerseyatthegames,”hesaidasIsettheboxinmylap.
Iknewinstantlywhatitwasandmypulsekickedupanotch.
“The last few days have been crazy with media and everything, and I know it all took you by

surprise, but I want you to wear this today.” He cleared his throat and that vulnerable side of him
peekedoutbeforehevanquisheditwithablink.“Iwantyoutowearmyjerseywhenyoucheerfor
me.”

“Oliver,”Ibreathedout.Iopenedthebox,andinsideitwasashesaid:hisjersey,theblueandteal

colorsoftheRoughRiders,andthenumbereighty-sevenstampedinbrightbluerightonthefront.I
helditupandsmiled,lookingathim.“Ifeellikeyoujustaskedmetogosteady.”

Helaughedsoftly,hiseyesnarrowingwiththatlookIknewsowell.“Later,Iwanttofuckyouin

onlythis,mynumberandmybodyalloveryou.”

“Well,that’ssomethingtothinkaboutwhenI’mwithyourfolkstoday.”Ichuckledwithhimthen

andpressedtheshirttomychest.“Thankyou,”Isaid,tryingtoerasethenervesthatassaultedmeat
thementionofhisparents.“OfcourseI’llwearittothegame.”

“Andlater?”Heleanedforwardandpressedhislipstomine.
“You’llhavetowaitandfindout.”

ChapterTWENTY-FOUR

SHANNON

Grace Powell pressed her soft, warm hand to my cheek and smiled. “Well, you’re even prettier

thanthepictureswesawthisweek,aren’tyou?”

Nexttome,Olivergroaned.“Ma.”
“Well,sheis.”Herkind,hazeleyes,whichwereexactlylikeOliver ’s,cametomine.“It’slovelyto

meetyou,Shannon.”

“Youtoo.”IgrinnedandheldoutmyhandforSeantoshake.“Youtoo,sir.”
“Noneofthat,”hesaidandpulledmeinforahugthatwastighterbutfasterthanGrace’swhen

she’dhuggedme.“We’rehuggersinthisfamily.”

Oliversnorted.“Oryou’rejustprettyandhelikestheladies.”
Seanpulledbackandwinked.“Thatmightbeit,too.Butmysonknowshowtopick‘em,that’sfor

certain.”

ItriedandfailedtostiflemygiggleasOlivergroanedagain.
Iwasobviouslymeetinghisparents.They’ddrivenfromhisplacetoTheMayfieldTowerforan

earlybreakfastbeforeOliverhadtobeatthestadium.Hewasdressedinasuit,andthatblack-and-
graytiehe’dtiedtomywristswhenhe’dtakenmyass.Myeyeshadgonehazyandhalf-liddedwhen
he’dwalkedoutofhisclosetearlier,himinthatsuitandtie,andhe’dsmirked.

“Guessthattellsmewhatwe’redoinglater,”hemurmured,pullingmeinforalongandwetand

heatedkiss.

Ihadpushedhimaway,mycheeksburningwithheat,andnexttohimIstillfeltridiculous.Iwas

dressed in frayed skinny jeans and sandals and his jersey like he’d asked. With him in his suit, we
didn’tlooklikewefit.

“Let’s eat some breakfast,” Sean said, patting his small, rounded stomach. “I’m starving after

workingthehorsesthismorning.”

“Youdidn’trideHulk,didyou?”Oliver ’sconcernwasobvious.Inthepastfewweeks,I’dlearned

thatnobodybutLeeandhimrodeHulk.Hewastoowild,still—toounpredictable.

Seanflickedahandintheair,dismissinghim.“Itwasfine.Quitworryingaboutme.”
Olivergrowledathisdadandlookedathismom.“Youlethimdothat?”
Sherestedasofthandonhisforearm.“It’sfine,dear.Honest,hewasokay.”
“Helookstired.”
“Youworrytoomuch.”
Herolledhiseyesandlookedatme.Iwaschewingmybottomlip.Intruth,Seanlookedexhausted

andhisskinwasabitpale.Ihadnevermethim,buthedidseemlikeamanOliverhadtherighttobe
concerned about. He’d told me frequently over the past few weeks that he thought his dad was
constantlyoverdoingit,nottakingintoconsiderationthatatnearingseventy,hewasn’tascapableas
heusedtobe.

“Somebodyneedstoworry,”Olivermuttered,butfollowedhismomintotherestaurant.

Whenwewereseated,hisfrustrationseemedtoevaporatewhilewesataroundandate.Hisparents

werekindandquicktolaugh.SeanwasboisterousandhadnoproblemscriticizingOliver ’splaying
towhich,shockingly,Olivertookwithaquicknodand“yes,sir”evenwhileIknewhewastryingnot
to roll his eyes. In front of me, he seemed to change from superstar, cocky football player to
respectfulSouthernsonintheblinkofaneye.

Bothsidesofhimhadmesquirminginmyseat.Wasthereanythinghedidthatdidn’tmakehim

sexiertome?

Idoubtedit.
Grace,ontheotherhand,wasquietwithaserenepresence.Sheaddedinhertwocentsinaway

where you wanted to lean in and listen more closely. Soft-spoken and mild-mannered, she held a
wisdominhereyesthatmadeyourespectherinstantly,andatthesametimewanttositnexttoher
withacoolglassoflemonadeandjustbe.

Iwasinlovewiththeentirefamilybythetimebreakfastwasdone.
“Ineedtogettothestadium,”Oliversaid,kissingmeonthecheekafterhe’dhadourbillcharged

to his room. His parents had excused themselves for the restroom and we were alone at our table.
“YousureyouandMelissaareokaygettingthereonyourown?Icanhaveadriverpickyouup.”

I shook my head. He’d already asked and offered, but Melissa and I wanted to enter the stadium

likeregularfans.Therewasalwayssomethingabouttheexcitementintheair,thehopeofvictory,and
thesparkofanewseasonthatmadethefirsthomegamedifferentfromanyothers.

It’dbeapainintheass,butworththeexperience.
Thedriverhe’dorderedforhisparentswasgoingtobethereanymoment.Theywouldgotothe

gameandenterthestadiumthroughthefamilyandplayers’entrancesotheydidn’thavetodealwith
thecrowds.

“We’llbefine,”Isaid,stressingeachsyllable.“Don’tworryaboutus,Iswear.We’llbeinthebox

beforekickoffandI’llcheerforyouandBeauxeveryplay.”

Hislipspulledtightandhefrowned.Hisgazeflickeredtohisdad’semptychairbeforereturning

tomineandhedroppedhisvoice.“Domeafavor?MakesureDaddoesn’tgettooexcited.Helooks
worsetodaythanhedidlasttimeIsawhim.”

“Okay.”
“I’m probably being stupid,” he said, still whispering. “I just don’t have a good feeling about

today.Orthegame.Orsomething.”

I pressed my hands to his cheeks. “It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. You’ll win, and it’s probably just

nerves.”

Alinedeepenedbetweenhisbrowsbeforehenodded.“You’reprobablyright.”
“Iloveyou,”Iwhispered,leaninginandbrushinghislipsagainstmine.“Gokicksomeass.Score

sometouchdowns.Allthatgoodstuff.”

Helaughedsoftlybeforehedeepenedtheclosed-mouthkiss.“Begood.”
“Iwill,”Ipromisedandpulledback.“Iloveyou.AndtellBeauxIsaidgoodluck,too.”
I’d already texted my brother, and he’d responded, but it wasn’t often I didn’t see him before a

gameIattended.Usually,hewastheonedrivingme.

“Will do. Love you, too.” He pushed back from his chair before leaning over me, kissing me

againlikehecouldn’tleavewithoutthetasteofmeonhislips.

“GoRoughRiders!”Icheered,pumpingmyfistintheair.
A few people turned and looked our way but most didn’t hear me. So when Oliver leaned back

downandplayfullygrowled,“I’llshowyouaroughridelater,”Iwasthankfulnoonesawtheblush

thatstainedmycheekswhenhetuggedalockofmyhairbeforehewalkedawayfromme.

***

“Ican’tbelievethisgameissoclose,”Melissasaid,sittingnexttomeonthechairsjustoutsidethe

box.SeanandGracewereinsidegettingmorefood,becauseI’dlearnedthatwhileGracewassoft-
spoken and kind earlier, she also really liked to take care of her husband. Making sure he kept his
plateanddrinkfilledduringthegameseemedlikeherduty.

“I know.” My fingernails had been in between my teeth all game. Two of them were completely

gonealready.Thecrowdwasinsanelyloud,andmorethanonceI’dwishedweweredownatthefifty-
yard line, cheering from my usual seats. There was something different about being up so high, in
yourownlittlebox.Itmademefeelremovedfromtheexcitementandwonderofthegameandthe
anticipationinthecrowd.

I’dseenmyfaceontheJumbotronwhilesittingnexttoSeanandGraceafterOliverhadmadea

greatplay,andtwicewhenhe’ddroppedapass.

It was halftime and we were only up by one field goal against the Denver Cavalry, a team we’d

beenprojectedtobeatbydoubledigits.

The Cavalry was doing an excellent job at shutting down the passing game, effectively leaving

Kolbyscorelessfortheentirefirsthalf,whichwaskeepingourscoringdown.

“They’ll come back in the second half,” I said and stood up. I wanted another drink and some

snacks.Ineededsomethingtohelpsettlemystomach.IgesturedtowardMelissa.“Wantanotherglass
ofwine?”

“Youbetcha,”sherepliedandraisedherglasswithouttakinghereyesoffthefield.
One of the things I loved most about Melissa was her love of sports like mine. I didn’t know if

she’dlearneditfrommeorhadalwaysbeenafootballfan,butwhenwe’dmetincollege,shestarted
watchingeverygamewithme,oftencomingbacktomyhighschooltowatchBeauxplay.She’dbeen
justasmuchofabigsistertohimasIhadsincewe’dmettenyearsbefore.

Iwalkedintotheboxsuiteandheadedstraightforthebottlesofwinethathadbeenstaffedforus.

Oliverhadgonealloutforourspreadfortheday.Therewereselectionsofalltypesofalcoholanda
buffet that could feed thirty. There’d be way too many leftovers thrown away, but I appreciated he
thoughtofeverythingwecouldpossiblydesire.

“Youguysdoingokay?”IaskedSeanandGraceasIrefilledourglasses.
“Fine,darlin’,”Seansaid,scoopingacornchipfilledwithchilidipintohismouth.
We’dspentmostofthefirsthalfofthegametalkingandcheering.Icouldtellheappreciatedmy

knowledge of the game, and they’d both made it easy to talk to them. They were just as sweet and
simpleasOliverhadpromisedthey’dbe,andjustlikeoverbreakfast,ourconversationswereeasy.

Itookasipofwine.
Seanpressedhishandtohischest,grimacing.“Youokay,Sean?”
“Fine,fine.”Hecringedagainbutwavedmeoff.“Chili’sspicyabit,that’sall.”
Gracedugintoherpurseandmuttered,“HowmanytimesdoIneedtoremindyoutotakeyour

medicine,Sean?”Shelookedatmeandgrinnedbeforepullingheartburnmedicationoutofherpurse.
“Itellya,thismanisasstubbornashisson.Everydayhegetstheburn,andeverydayherefusesto
take the pill until he’s unbearable. Train my boy better than I trained my man to follow common
sense,wouldyou?”

Igrinnedintomyglassofwine.“I’lldomybest.”
AcheereruptedonthefieldandIlookedouttoseetheteamsrunningbackontothefield.
“IshouldgetthesedrinkstoMelissa.Youtwocomingout?”
“Soon, darlin’.” Sean coughed into his hand and flinched. “We’ll be there soon. As soon as this

pillkicksinyouwon’tbeabletostopme.”

“Allright.”Ipattedhimontheshoulderandwentbacktothegame.
Soon, Sean and Grace joined us and the four of us nearly lost our voices while the game

continuedtobeclose.

It was the third quarter, five minutes to go, and we were finally up by ten points, having scored

anothertouchdown.Cavalrycouldpulloffawin—oratleastatie—andtheyhadtheball,movingit
slowlybutsteadilydownthefield.

It was the third down, eight yards to go for them, and they were nearing field goal range when

theythrewthelongpasstheyhadtoget.

Theplayunfoldedperfectly.Cavalry’squarterbackdroppedbacktopasstheball,andasitflung

intotheairIwasonmyfeet,holdingmybreathwhileitsailedthroughtheair,thirtyyardsdownthe
field.

Rightastheirwidereceiverjumpedtocatchtheball,toofarbehindhimeventhoughhetriedto

doubleback,oursafetyappearedoutofnowhereandsnaggedtheballintohishands.

“Hellyes!”Melissashoutednexttome.
Smith, the safety, bobbled the ball once then twice before he got a firm grip on it and started

runningdownthefield.

Wealljumpedtoourfeetandshouted,cheeringasSmithranforfifteenyards,almostendingup

athalffieldbeforehewastackledbyCavalry’soffense.

“Yes!Wedidit!”Ishouted,turningtogiveSeanahigh-fiveasIdid.Buthewasn’tthere.
Hewasinhischair,hishandfistinghisshirt,hislipstwistedinpain.
“Sean?”Iasked,droppingtomykneesinthesmallspace.
Gracemusthaveheardmebecausesheturned,lookingdownatus.
“Sean!”sheshouted,andhedraggedlistlesseyestohers.
“Mychest,”herasped,barelyabletobreathe,“hurts.”
HisbodybeganshakingandIstoodparalyzedbeforeIrealizedwhatwashappening.
“Callnine-one-one!”Ibeganscreaming.“Callnine-one-one!”Iflashedterrified,panickedeyesto

Graceandrealizedhersmatchedmine.“Ithinkhe’shavingaheartattack.”

“Fine,”hegaspedagain.
Melissa’shandwrappedaroundmyshoulder.“I’lldoit,”shesaid.“Gethiminsideandlyingdown

onhisleftside.”

Shetookoffthen,runningtowardaphoneatthewalloftheboxsuiteforemergencyuses.
“Comeon,”IsaidtoGrace.“Let’sgethiminside.”
“Hehastobeokay,”shechantedrepeatedly.“MySean.”
His hand reached up and held hers, but I could tell it was taking everything in him. “Love you,

honey.Alltheloveintheworld.”

“Stopit,”shehissed,andtearsbeganfallingdownmycheeks.“You’llbefine.”
Wemovedhiminside,hisweightdifficultforus.Whenwehadhimonthefloor,restingonhis

side,Gracedugintoherpurseagainandpoppedoutanaspirin.“Swallowthis,Sean.Now.”

Hedid,workinghisthroatlikehewasswallowingshardsofglass,andIsteppedbackwhilethey

whisperedtoeachother,thingsIcouldn’thear.

It was minutes that felt like hours before the stadium’s paramedics rushed through the door. We

coulddonothingexceptstandthereandwatch.Waiting.

Hoping.
Aloudcheerinthedistanceandthevibrationofthestadiumshakingwithapplausepulledmyeyes

tothefield.“Oliver.”IsnappedmyheadtoGrace.“WehavetotellOliver.”

Sheshookherhead.“Afterthegame.We’llgetwordtohim.”
“ShouldIwaitforhim?”
“No.Comewithus.He’llmeetusthere.Thedriverwillbequickeranyway.”

***

Wewereatthehospitalsittinginwaitingroomseatsmuchtoouncomfortableforanyonescared

outoftheirmind.

I’dspentmuchofthetimepacing,unabletositstillwhilewewaitedforwordfromthedoctor.
GraceandMelissahadsatdown,Gracetheepitomeofcalmnesswithhopeinhereyeswhileshe

satthere,handsclaspedtogetherandstaredoutthewindows.MelissalookedasscaredasIwas,andI
didn’tknowifitwasbecauseofwhatwehadseen,orwhatwewereafraidtheresultwouldbe.

Damnit.Oliverhadbeenright—Seanhadlookedtootiredthismorning.Tooworndown.Andthe

way Oliver had looked at me, so concerned about his dad and asking me to keep an eye on him,
promisinghimIwouldn’tlethisdadgettooexcited.

I’dfailedhim.Ihadn’tlistened.I’dtrustedSeanandGracewhenhe’dwavedofftheearlierpains

inhischest.

Icouldn’tclosemyeyes,Icouldn’tblink.EverytimeIdidIsawSean’slargeframe,almostastall

asOliver ’s,lyingthereonthefloor,motionlessandpaleastheparamedicsworkedhimoverbefore
rushinghimouttoanambulance.

Itwasamemoryforeveringrainedinmybrain.
MovementcomingfromthedoubledoorscaughtmyattentionandIwhisperedGrace’sname.
Twodoctorshustledthroughthedoors,stoppingonlyatthenurses’stationbeforelookingatus

whenshegesturedinourdirection.

“SeanPowell’sfamily?”oneofthedoctorsasked.
“I’mhiswife,Grace.”Shestoodandheldoutherhand,smilingasifshewasn’tterrifiedoutof

hermind.Therewassomethinginhereyes,somethingthathitmeafterI’dwatchedallofthisplay
out.Shehadbeencalm.Toocalmanditdidn’tfeelright.Shewaseitherachunkofgraniteintheface
ofhorror,orsheknewsomethingshehadn’tshared.“Howishe?”

Thedoctorsmiled,tuggingdownhismasksoitbentbeneathhischin.“Sean’sgoingtobefine,

Mrs.Powell.Butheshouldn’thavebeentraveling—notsosoonafterhislastheartattack.”

Igasped.Heartattack?Oliverhadneversaidanything.
Heshotheralookfullofrecrimination,andsherolledbackhershoulders.“Youtrytellingthat

mannottobethereforhisson’sgames.”

Ichokedonalaugh,equalpartsshockedandamusedatthetoneshe’djusttakenwiththedoctor

whenhesighed.“He’sstillsleeping,butwecanshowyouback.Youknowwhatthismeans,though,
right?DidyourdoctorsinSavannahexplainit?”

“Surgery…stints…” Her voice trailed off as she flicked out her hand. “I’ll make sure he listens

thistime.”

“Seethatyoudo.”Hisvoicewentsoftandkindandhereachedout,squeezingGrace’shand.“The

nexttimehewon’tbelucky.Hewon’tgetathirdchance,Mrs.Powell.There’stoomuchdamageto
hisarteries.”

Sheturnedtousthenandfearflickeredinhereyesaswellasherremorse.“Wedidn’twantOliver

to know,” she said as she met my eyes. “He would have told us not to come, and Sean—well, Sean
saidifhedidn’thavemuchtime,heneededtoseeonelastgame.”

“Iunderstand.”Ididn’t.Oliverwasgoingtobefuriousanditwaswarranted.Inoddedtowardthe

doctor.“Youshouldgoseehim.I’llsendOliverbackwhenhegetshere.”

“Thankyou,”shewhispered,reachingoutandsqueezingmyhand.“Thankyouforbeingsokind

andlovingmyboy.”

Ismiledwithtearsinmyeyes.“It’smypleasure.”
Assoonasshe’ddisappearedbehindthedoubledoorsandMelissahadherarmsaroundme,Iwas

quickly pulled away and my shoulders gripped by strong, firm hands. “What in the hell happened,
Shannon?”

Oliver ’sgripwassostrong,sofierce,myheadsnappedbackandmyeyesflared.
“Oliver…”MelissastartedasIwincedfromanotherhardshake.“Calmdown.”
“Stayoutofthis,”heclipped,hishazeleyesflaringwithfury.“Whatthehellhappened?Andwhy

didn’tyoucallme?Theycouldhavegottenmeduringthegame.Ishouldhaveknownwhatwasgoing
on.Howcouldyouletmegooutonthefield,knowingwhathappenedandyouknewhowworriedI
wasabouthim?”Hescrubbedhishandthroughhishairandshoutedatme.“Itoldyoutowatchhim!”

Istumbledbackward,rubbingmyarmswherehe’dgrippedthemsohardtheymightbruise.Tears

drippeddownmycheeksandIswipedthemaway.“Ididwatchhim,andyourmomtoldmenottocall
you. He said it was heartburn.” I inhaled a long breath before exhaling. “He’s fine, though, Oliver.
Thedoctorsjustcameoutandtalkedtous.Hehadaheartattack,buthe’sfine.Sleeping.Yourmom
justwentbackthere.”

“Damn it.” He swiped a hand through his still-wet hair and cursed again. “I knew it. I knew

somethingwasn’tright.Howinthefuckcouldthishavehappened?”

Ishookmyhead,unabletocomprehendthevitriolhewasshoutingatme.Hewasscaredandhurt.

Probablyterrified.I’dtakehisangerforhimifithelpedhim.

“Itried,honey,”Iwhispered,reachingoutforhim.
Hejerkedawayfrommytouchandscrubbedhisfacewithhishandsagainandthentuggedonhis

hair.“Notwellenough,”hebarked.“I’mgoingtogoseehim.”

“Doyouwantustowait?”
“No,”hesaid.Anyemotionhehadformethismorningwasnowgoneinhiscold,angryeyes.“I

thinkyou’vedoneenough.Justgo.”

Igasped,myfingersflyingtomymouthwhenheturnedandhurriedaway.Hetalkedtoanurse

before she opened the double doors for him, smiling at him with stars in her eyes while he rushed
downthehallanddisappeared.

“Hedidn’tmeanit,”Melissasaid,pullingmeintoherarmsandsqueezingtight.“Hedidn’tmean

it.He’sjustangryandscared.You’llsee.”

I’d seen Oliver lose his temper and say shit he didn’t mean often. He was usually quick to

apologize.

Iremindedmyselfofthat,focusedonthetruthMelissaspoke,andhopedlikehellIwasright.
He’drealizethatinhisangerhe’djustbeenanassholetothewomanheloved,andhe’dmakeit

right.

ChapterTWENTY-FIVE

SHANNON

Melissalookeddownatme,herprettylittlenoseallcrinkled.“Yousmell.”
“I’llshowerlater.”Irolledmyeyesatherbeforestaringbackatthetelevisionset.
ESPN was now the only way I was getting any updates on Oliver or Sean other than the texts

Beauxgotfromtheteammanager ’supdatingtheteamonSean’scondition.Hewasgettingreleased
fromthehospitalthatnight.

It had been two days and I hadn’t heard anything from Oliver. I hadn’t received a single text

message,notaphonecall.AndafterIsentonemessagethedaybefore,askinghimhowhisdadwas
doingwhenI’dheardhemadeitoutofsurgeryviaBeaux,Ihadn’tgottenaresponse.

Wasitpossibleforahearttoactuallybreak?Iunderstoodhewasbusy.Iunderstoodheneededto

bewithhisdad,andIhadoriginallybelievedMelissa:he’dfreakedoutonmebecausehewasscared
andangrythathehadn’tknownaboutitassoonasithappened.

Twodayslater,andradiosilencefromhim,andInolongerbelievedher.
Mychesthurt.Afterwe’dleftthehospital,MelissaandIhadgonetoBeaux’shouse.Ididn’twant

tobealoneinmyapartment.

HefreakedoutandshoutedwhenMelissahadrelayedwhathappenedandthenhe’dstalkedoffto

be with the team at the hospital. Visions of him giving Oliver a black eye for being a dick to me
poppedintomymind,butIpushedthemaway.Beauxwouldn’tdothattohim…notyet,anyway.Butif
Iknewmybrotherandhisprotectiveinstinct,it’dcomeatsomepoint.

Melissabentdownandpickeduptheremote.Sheclickedthebuttonandthetelevisionscreenfaded

toblackimmediately.“Wehavetogoout.Andyouhavetogetbacktoworktomorrow.”

Ishouldhavebeenworkingforthepasttwodays.Therewastoomuchtodoandnotenoughtime

foranyofit.

“Iwill.Tomorrow.”
“Fine.Thentonightwegoout.Beauxsaidtheteam’sfinallycelebratingtheirwinandhewantsus

there.”

Ipushedoffthecouchandfixedmymessybun.Icringedatthefeelofit.Ireallydidneedtoget

cleanedup.

“I’mnotgoingoutwiththem.Notnow.”Beforeshecouldprotest,Ismiledather.“ButIwillgo

shower,we’llgotoStampedsoIcancheckthemail,andthenwe’llgetdrunkhere.”

Shepoutedforamomentbeforeherblueeyesshonewhenshesmiled.“Deal.Nowgo,beforeI

hoseyoudown.”

“I’mnotthatbad,”IshoutedasIwalkedaway.
Melissa’sfakegaggingsoundwastheonlyresponseIgot.
I showered quickly, throwing on minimal makeup and comfortable lounge clothes while I got

ready.AndwhileIdid,Ihatchedmyownplan.Ihadstayedinacrappyrelationshiponce,knowingit
was going downhill but too afraid to stand up and ask for answers then. I wouldn’t be that woman

again,andIwouldn’twaitaround,eatingmyweightinfoodanddrowningmysorrows,waitingfor
himtocometome.

Irefusedtobelievethatonlyshortlyaftertellingmehewasfallinginlovewithme,Olivertruly

meantthethingshe’dsaid.

“Let’sgo,”IsaidtoMelissawhenIreturnedtothelivingroom.
ShewasdressedjustascasuallyasIwas,bothofusintanksandshortyogashorts,ourhairpulled

upandoffournecks.

Sheturnedtomeandmusthaveseenthedeterminationthathadsetinmyeyesbecauseherglossy

lipsspreadwide.“Well,thatshowerseemedtohaveworked.”

Ilaughedandwalkedtowardthedoor,diggingmykeysoutofmypurse.“Yup.Andtomorrow,I

gettherestofmyshittogether.”

I’dgiveOlivertheday,onemoredaytohelphisdadandbethereforhisparents,butIknewfrom

BeauxthathewasstayingatthehotelinRaleighwhilehisdadwasinthehospital.

***

The elevator bell dinged, jarring me. Wiping my palms down the sides of my skirt, I inhaled a

breathasIsteppedoutoftheelevatorcarandontoOliver ’sfloor.Iwassurprisedwhenthedoorman
atthehotelhadgivenmepermissiontogostraightup,buttookitasagoodsign.Ihadn’tyetbeen
removedfromvisitorsallowedtoheadtoOliver ’splacewithoutaphonecallfirst.

Itwasmid-morning.Thenightbefore,aftergettingdoneatStamped,MelissaandIhadsataround

Beaux’scondodrinkingandtalkingabouteverythingandanythingthatdidn’tinvolveOliverPowell.
Instead,we’dtalkedaboutherjobasafreelancegraphicdesignerwhileshecontinuedtotellmehow
shelovedtheRaleigharea.Despitetheheatthatwasgoingtotakemeyearstogetusedto—butmuch
less time to get used to in the winter, since I’d get to avoid Iowa’s bone-chilling windchill
temperatures—Iagreedwithher.

Raleighwasbeautiful.Nottoolargeofacitythatitwasintimidating,andithadeverythingIcould

possiblywant.

The bonus was definitely that my online sales of Stamped were still going strong. Soon, I’d be

abletostartpayingBeauxbackforeverythinghe’ddoneforme.

Hopefully sooner than that, Oliver would apologize for being a complete prick and we could

movepastthissmallhitchintheroad.Allcoupleshadproblems.Allcouplesfought.Allcouplessaid
thingsoutofanger,andhehadtohavebeenbesidehimselfwithworry.

IwascountingonallofthosethingswhenIfoundmynervetoexittheelevatorandturnedtoward

hisdoor.

I was three steps away when his door flung open and a woman—a beautiful woman—flew out,

laughingasshedid,herwaist-lengthblondhairflyingoutbehindher.“I’llseeyoulater,then!”

Sheturnedaroundandfroze,justasIdid.
“Oh! Hello!” The beautiful woman—shiny pink lips, glassy-eyed—was looking directly at me,

andsheinstantlylookedfamiliar,althoughIcouldn’tplaceher.Gorgeous.

ShehadtobeoneofthemostbeautifulwomenI’deverseen.Curvy,blond,sobeautifulandsweet-

lookingmyteethalmostached.Ortheywouldhave…ifIcouldhavefeltanything.

EverythingwentnumbasIgasped.
Whatshemusthavecaughtonmyfacewipedthesmilerightoffhers.

Myheartfrozeinsidemychest.
No.Hewouldn’t…
Thenhereyeswentwideandshelookeddownfollowingmygaze.Shewaswearingnothing.Not

nothingnothing,butallIcouldseeofherwasapalepink,silkyrobe,wrappedandtiedtightather
waist.

Itookastepback.
Icouldn’tbreathe.
Shelookedbackatmeandfollowedmymovement,comingcloserwhileIbackedaway.
“YoumustbeShannon,”shesaid,walkingtowardme.
Without looking, I pounded on the elevator button with the palm of my hand. It had to open. It

couldn’thaveleftyet.

Hedid.Hewouldn’t,though…wouldhe?Oliverhadalwayspromisedhewasn’tacheater.
Andhowdidsheknowmyname?Iopenedmymouthandcloseditlikeafish,unabletospeakto

her.Icouldn’tdrawairintomylungstobreathe.

Behindme,theelevatordooropened.
Herhandswentup.“Thisisn’twhatitlookslike,Isweartoyou.”
Isaidnothing.WhatcouldIsay?
AsIsteppedbackintotheelevator,IheardOliver ’svoice.
Ihitthebuttontoclosethedoor.“Bethany…youforgot…”Hestoppedashesawme.
Hehadonpajamapants.Nothingelse.Darkblondhairashaggymessthattoldmehe’djustwoken

up.Awoman’spurseinhishandathisside.

Imadeachokingsoundandbeganslammingthebuttontoclosetheelevatordoor.
Iwasstandingtheredressedinasuper-cutetankandskirtandsky-highheels,lookingmyabsolute

best,andthiswoman—wholookedsovaguelyfamiliar,butIcouldn’tplaceher—wasdressedinjust
arobeandohmygodsomuchmorebeautifulthanmewithoutanymakeuponatall.

“Shannon…”HisvoicetrailedoffashelookedatmeandthenatBethany.
Hiseyeswenthard.
Myheartdroppedtothefloorbeneathmyfeet.
Thedoorsshutrightashedraggedhishandsthroughhishair.
It was the last thing I saw and tears flew down my cheeks, unbidden, before I could stop them.

BeforeIrealizedIwascrying,myvisionblurredandsobswrackedmyshoulders.

Iflewoutofthehotel,onlythankfulI’dmanagedtoparkonthestreetandnotvalet.
Thatlookinhiseyeswhenhe’dseenme.
IcriedwhenIgottomycar,myhandsshakingsobadlythatIcouldn’tcontrolmyself,couldn’t

getmykeyintheignition.

Everythingaboutthatmoment.
IthurtmorethanwhenI’dseenPatrick.Then,I’dbeenangry.
This wasn’t anger rolling through me so hard it seemed to take forever for me to stop crying

enoughthatIcoulddriveaway.

Never,inallofthat,didhecometolookforme.Hedidn’tcall.Hedidn’ttextorexplain.
Hehadjuststoodthere,lookingatmelikeIwasnothingtohim.

ChapterTWENTY-SIX

OLIVER

Fuck.Fuckfuckfuck.
“Well,youtotallyscrewedthatup.”
IdroppedmyhandstomysidesandglaredatBethany.Bethanywhowasinonlyadamnrobeand

hadjustcomeovertodragmyassoutofbedbecausethenightbeforeI’dgottensofuckingdrunkin
thehotelbarthatshe’dhadtopracticallycarrymetomyroom.

She’donlycomeoverthatmorningtomakesureIwasstillaliveandbringmecoffee.
“Whatthefuck?”Iasked.Mymindwasmovingtooslow—theresultoftoomuchtequila.Itbarely

registeredthatShannonwasinsidethatelevatorbeforeitclosed.

“If it helps, I told her it wasn’t what it looked like.” Her nose scrunched and she looked at the

elevatordoors.“Idon’tthinkshebelievedme.”

Aharshlaughescapedme.“Youthink?Damnit.”MyhandswenttomyfaceagainandItriedto

scrubawaytheremainderofthehangoverpoundingatmytemples.

I’dbeenadicktoher.
Acomplete,fuckingdick.IhadnoexcuseandIhadtomakeitright.
“Bethany,”Isaid,turningtowardmyfriend.“She’llneverforgivemeforthis.Never,notafterher

ex—”

SherolledhereyesandletherSoutherndrawlflowfree.“Notifyoustandheretalkingtome.Go

afterher.Youspenthourslastnightdroningonandonabouthowmuchyoulovedthiswoman,and
shewashereevenafteryousaidthosethingstoher.Goexplainit.Allofit.”

Icouldn’t.Notnow.Notwhenmyheadhurttoomuchtothinkstraight.Notwhenshe’djustseen

whatshethoughtshesaw.

Fuck.Wewerebothhalf-naked.
Therewasabsolutelynowayshewasgoingtobelieveme.
“Damnit!”Iballedmyhandsintofistsandforcedmyselfnottopunchthewall.
Fortwodays,I’dsatwithmyfather,fuckingpissedatmyselffortheawfulthingsI’dsaidtoher,

thewayI’dhandledher.Beauxhadsaidnothingwhenhe’dshownupatthehospitalwithmostofthe
teamtosupportmeandmydad.He’dwantedtohitme.

Icouldseeitintheglareinhiseyesandthetensenessinhisbody.
“Oliver,gotoher.Gotalktoher.Makeherunderstand.”
Bethany was sweet. Too innocent for her own damn good. The very fact that she thought that

wouldwork—afterShannon’spastandherlackofabilitytotrustagain—toldmeshedidn’tfucking
getit.

“Ican’t.I’vegottoshowerandgetmyparentshome.Damnit.”
“Oliver—”
ShecalledtomeagainandIturned.“What?”
“Mypurse?”

Itossedittoherandshookmyhead.“I’llhandleit.Ijustdon’thavethetime.Notrightnow.”
“Youletitgotoolongandyou’rescrewed,youknow.”
Irolledmyeyestotheceilingandsighed.“Ialreadyam.”

ChapterTWENTY-SEVEN

SHANNON

It’dbeenafulltwenty-fourhourssinceI’dbeentoOliver ’shotelroom.
Thepainwasn’tanybetter.I’dsleptlikeshit,buthadorderstofillandworktogetdone,soI’d

draggedmyselfoutofbedearlyinthemorningtogettoStampedandstartworking.

I’d already changed my entire life after one horrific breakup. I couldn’t let this dream of mine

fail,despitewantingtolamentmyinabilitytofindadecentman.

“Youknow,”Melissasaid,gettingmyattentionfromwhereshe’dbeenperchedonmyworktable

for the past few hours trying to keep me company. She’d brought her laptop with her and was
working on some website designs for a few clients, but mostly she was talking, trying to keep me
fromnotthinkingaboutOliverandtheblonde.

I turned to her. She was holding a pair of pliers, opening and closing them repeatedly. A scary,

maniacal grin on her face. “I really liked Oliver. Liked how he was with you. But this little tool is
givingmesomegreatideas.”Shewinkedatme.

Ilookedawayandbacktothemetalbandslaidoutinfrontofme.Ihadtostringthemwithcharms

beforeIfinishedembellishingthem.“Idon’twanttotalkabouthim.”

“Idon’twanttotalkabouthim,either.Ortalktohim.”Iheardthesqueakofmetalasshesqueezed

andplayedwiththepliers.“ButhearinghimscreamwhileIwrapthesearoundhisballs—”

“God,”Isaid,unabletostopthelaughatherdescription.“Stop,Melissa.Please.”
Shedroppedthepliersandpickedupherlaptop.“Ijustwantedtoseeyousmile.”
Rollingmyeyes,Iturnedbacktomywork.“You’reanutjob.”
“That’swhatIwastalkingabout.Asmash-and-crushnutjob.”
I glared at her out of the corner of my eye at the same time a bell at the front door rang. We

weren’topenedforbusiness,wouldn’tbeuntilThursday,butIhaddeliveriesscheduled.

“Canyougotakecareofthat,please?”IaskedasIbegantwistingafinepieceofsterlingsilver.
“Surething,hooker.”
Isnortedasshewalkedoutofmyoffice,listeningtoherquickfeettakeherdownthehallway.
Shewasbackwithinseconds,andwhenshespoke,hervoicehadlostitsplayfulness.
“Holy shit, Shannon.” She grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, her eyes wide and her

handstrembling.“BethanyCarlsonisinyourstore...lookingforyou.”

Who?
“Who?What?”
“BethanyCarlson.Famouscountrysinger?”
MyeyesbuggedoutandIdroppedmytools,mybraceletforgotten.“Whatthehell?Me?Why?”
“Idon’tknow,”Melissabreathed,theaweclearinhervoice.
Myhandsbegantremblingatthesametimeshepulledmetostanding.
“Goseeher!”
Myhandswenttomywildhair.I’dforcedmyselftotakethetimetogetreadythatdaybecauseI

wasgoingtobeatthestore,butBethanyCarlson?Shewasfamous.Ifreakinglovedhermusic.Ihad
triedtotalkPatrickintotakingmetoherlastconcertthatwentthroughDesMoinestwoyearsbefore
andthenactednotthatdisappointedwhenhe’dtwistedhislipsandwent,“Eh.Really?Notreallymy
thing.”

Dick.Iknewhowtopick‘em.
Ibrushedtheerrantthoughtoutofmymindandblewoutabreath.“Okay.Okay,I’mgoing.”
Werushedoutoftheoffice,Melissacloseonmyheels,andthenIfrozewhenIreachedtheendof

thehallway.

Infrontofmewasawomanwithherbackturnedtome.
Blondhairflowingtoherwaist.Atight,shortskirtthatbarelycoveredherass.Tannedandtoned

legsthatwenttogoldstrappysandalsIwoulddietoown.

Andallofit—fromthehairtothewaisttothelegs—hadallbeenpartsofthewomanthathadbeen

burnedintomybrainsincethemorningbefore.

“Holyshit,”Ibreathed,slammingtoahaltinmytracksatthesametimeIreachedouttosqueeze

ontoMelissa’shand.

“Iknow,”shehissedquietly,totallyawed.
Ishookmyheadandwhisperedback,“No.That’sher.That’sthewomanwhocameoutofOliver ’s

yesterday.Iknewshelookedfamiliarthen,butIcouldn’tplaceher.”

Hereyesjumpedopenandherlipspulledbacktoasneer.“Thatwhore.OhmyGod,whatisshe

doinghere?”

Iwantedtohugmyfriendandherloyalty.Togofrombeinginawetogettingherclawsreadyto

attack,Melissawastheshit.

“Fuck,” I whisper-hissed. I forced my feet to move forward. As I walked toward her, Bethany

turnedtomeandexhaledslowly.

“Hello,Shannon.I’mBethany.Wedidn’treallygetthechancetomeetyesterday.”
Shewasfamous.Acountryrockstarwhotouredwiththebestofthebestandhadwonhandfulsof

CMAawards.

She’d also walked out of my boyfriend’s home—or ex-boyfriend’s—dressed in barely anything

andgigglingaboutseeinghimlater.

Ihatedher.
Iforcedmyselfnottobeenamoredwiththefirstpart,tofocusonthesecond,anddidn’ttakethe

handsheofferedtome.

“CanIhelpyou?”Iasked,myvoicedryandhoarseandbloodrushingthroughmyveins.
Herhandfelltohersideandshesuckedherlipbetweenherteeth.“I,well,I’mnotsurewhatI’m

doinghere,butIthoughtmaybeit’dbebestformetocometalktoyoumyself.”

Tomarkhernewterritory?Shealreadyhadit.Oliverlostclaimtomewhenheslippedhis“I’ve

nevercheatedandwouldnevercheat”dickintoher.

Icrossedmyshakingarmsovermychestandsaidnothing.
“I’mreallysorry,”shesaid,thewordsrushingoutofher.Shewavedherhandsintheairwhileshe

spoke,makingherseemevensweeter.“OliverandI,nothinghappened,Iswear.We’refriends.Istay
intheroomnextdoortohisandI’monlyintownafewdays.Isawhimatthebartheothernightand
he was so drunk, I helped him to his room. That’s it, I swear. I went there yesterday to make him
coffeeandmakesurehewasokay.”

Sheseemedhonest,almostpleadingwithmetobelieveherandGod,Iwantedto.
Itdidn’tchangeanything,butIstillreallywantedtobelievethatOliverhadn’tcheatedonme.Or

fuckedanotherwomansoquicklyafterkickingmetothecurb.

“Thankyouforlettingmeknow,”Isaid.“IsthereanythingelseIcanhelpyouwith?”
“Youdon’tbelieveme.”
Her pretty blue eyes turned sad and she sucked a lip between her teeth again. “I can understand

why,Ireallydo.Butwell,Ihaven’talwayshadthebestluckwithguys,andsoonerorlatertheyall
turn out to be assholes. But Oliver ’s not like that, and he wouldn’t have…we’ve never, I swear,
Shannon, nothing happened with us. Nothing ever has. We’re just friends and we get together
occasionallywhenwe’rebothintown,butit’sneverbeenanythingmorethandrinksandlaughter.”

I believed her. Her sincerity was too genuine, the pain in her voice was too obvious. “I believe

you,”Ifinallysaid.“Ifthat’sall…”

“Soyou’llforgivehim?”ThepainswitchedtohopefulnesssoquicklyIalmostgotwhiplash.
Bethanywasyounger—aroundBeaux’sage,Ifigured,butshe’dhitthemusicsceneevenbefore

she was twenty-one and flown to the top of the charts where she’d been for years. I knew all this
because I’d been a fan of her music and seen her perform on television during the music award
shows.Myhandsstillshookfromoverwhelmedexcitement.

Sighing, I forced down my sudden, overwhelming need to fangirl. “The thing is, is that you’re

here explaining it to me and he’s not. And he hasn’t.” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. The way
he’dstaredatme.“Thankyou,Isuppose,forexplainingittome.Ithelps,honest.ButOliverandI—”

“Helovesyou,”shecutin,steppingforward.
IheldmygroundeventhoughIwantedtorunfromher.
“Hetoldme.Hetalkedaboutyouforhours,feltsoshittyabouteverythinghesaidtoyou.Iswear

toyou,ifyougivehimachance,he’llexplainit.”

“I’dhavetoseehimforthattohappen.”Andithadn’t.
“I know. He’s being an asswipe, but if you want to know the truth, all he talked about the other

nightwasyou.”

Tearsfilledmyeyes,makinghergoblurryasIblinkedthemback.“Idon’tknowwhattodowith

that.”

Shelookedlostforabit,hergazeroamingmystoreasifshe’drunoutofherownthingstosay

beforeshelookedbackatmeandshrugged.“Idon’tknoweither.Boyssuck.”

Ilaughedthen,unabletohelpmyself.
BeforeIcouldrespondintheaffirmative,sheclappedherhandstogether.“Now,thisistotallyoff

topic,buthealsotoldmeaboutthesefabulousbraceletcuffsyoumadethathesawonedayandhad
wantedtobuy.Doyoustillhavethem?”

“Um.”What?“Yes,”Isaid,onceagaingettingwhiplashbythisgirl.Shewastoosweettoresist,

andsuddenlyMelissawasatmyside.

“Hi,I’mMelissa.HowaboutIhelpyououtwiththose?”
Bethany grinned. “I’d like that. And it was really great meeting you, Shannon. I hope I see you

again.”

Idoubtedit.“Thankyou,”Isaid,forlackofanythingbetter.
“Gotothebackandfixyourmascara,”MelissawhisperedbeforesheguidedBethanyovertothe

displays of cuff bracelets. “Take a few minutes. I’ll help her out, but you’re shaking so hard you
mightfallover.”

Ihadn’trealizedituntilshesaidsomething,butmyentirebodyshivered.
Inoddedandwenttotheback.ThenIdroppedmyasstomychairintheoffice,putmyheadinthe

palmsofmyhands,andcriedoutalltheresidualpainI’dbeenfeeling.

Thischangednothing.SoOliverdidn’tcheat.Hestilldidn’tloveme.Therewasnowayhecould,

notafterhurtingmesodeeplytwiceandignoringme.

Another slice of pain hit my chest and more tears fell. He would tell another woman what he

thoughtofme,howbadhefeltforhurtingme,buthedidn’thavethetimetomakeitright.

Whatgoodwasitknowinganyofit?

***

Later,afterMelissahadhelpedBethanyandthenbroughtmeabottleoficedteaandasaladfrom

downthestreet,andafterI’dfinisheduptwomorebracelets,Iwasfinallyabletotrytofocusonmy
workagain.

Ihadjustsatdowntoworkaftertakingasmallbreakupstairsintheapartment,andMelissawas

outfront,dealingwiththedeliveriesthathadjustarrived.

Anotherbellchimed,andIassumeditwastheUPSmanleaving,whenMelissa’svoicewentshrill

andshesnapped,“Whatinthehellareyoudoinghere?”

I jumped in my seat as a male voice murmured in response, and was on my feet and moving

towardthefrontofthebuildingwhenIheardMelissa’sangrydemand.

“Idon’tcare.Getout.”
“Whatisgoingon?”Iasked,turningthecorneronlytoonceagainstumbleonmyfeet.
“Hey,sweetheart,”Patricksaid,turningtowardmeandsmiling.
Iblinkedrapidly,unabletomove.
“She’snotyoursweetheart,”Melissaclippedharshly,baringherteethlikeshewantedtoriphim

toshreds.“Goaway.”

PatrickglancedatMelissa,aquicksneertwistinghislipsbeforeheignoredherandturnedbackto

me.“Iwashopingwecouldtalk.”

ThatonelookinhiseyeshegaveMelissabeforequicklybeingabletoeraseittoldmeeverything

Ineededtoknow.

“No,Patrick.Idon’tknowwhyyou’rehere,butIdon’twanttotalktoyou.Webrokeup.Hell,I

movedalmosttwentyhoursawaytogetawayfromyou.Idon’tknowwhatyou’redoinghere,butI
thinkImadeitclearIwantnothingtodowithyou.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice dropping in a way I used to think was sexy, but now I realized was

arrogance.“Irememberthelasttimewespoke.”

“Thenyouknowshedoesn’twantyou,”Melissasaid,stillglaringathim.
Man, I loved my bestie. Now wasn’t the time for her to defend me. She and Patrick had always

hatedeachother.“Melissa,please…giveusamoment.”

“But—”
“Nobuts,”Isaid.“Please.Thiswilltaketwominutes.”
Shehuffed,andIwaiteduntilshe’dgonetothebackbeforeIturnedandfacedPatrick.Hespoke

beforeIcould.

“Imissyou,sweetheart.Iknow,IknowImessedup,andI’msosorry.ButIloveyou.Istilllove

you.Please,let’sgosomewhere,let’sjustgosomewhereandtalk.”

Ishookmyhead,crossingmyarmsaroundmywaist.
Theyweretherightwords,comingfromthewrongdamnmanandforthewrongdamnreasons.
Iknewit.

Patrick was handsome. He was attractive in the pretty-boy way, and he took care of himself.

Dressedinalong-sleevedplaidshirt,sleevesrolleduptohiselbowsandwearinggraylinenshorts,
helookedeverythingliketheperfect,kindgentlemanhe’dalwaysportrayedhimselftobe.Ihadbeen
drawninbyhislooksandhisbodyandthesecurityhe’dofferedme.Hiswell-groomedgingerhair
andlightgreeneyeshelped.Hewasjustpretty.

I couldn’t summon up a single emotion for him. His eyes were hard as steel, his voice lacked

sincerity.

“You’re here because you found out another man has me and you’re pissed I don’t want you.

That’sallthisis,Patrick.”

“Powell?” he asked, almost choking on the word. “He’s no good for you. Come on, he’s a

reboundforyou.Someonewhowantstofuckyouuntilhe’stiredofyou.Youknowfootballplayers,
you’vealwayssaidthesamethingaboutthem,anddon’tthinkforasecondIhaven’tlookedintohis
reputation.He’saplayer.Hefuckswomen,doesn’tgobackformore,andleavesatrailofpussywho
havespreadtheirlegsforhimineverycityhetravels.You’renothingbutameaninglessfucktohim.
Buttome,you’reeverything.”

Myheartpoundedinmyribs.Mycheeksheated.TherewasnowayforPatricktoknowthefull

extentofthepainhe’djustlancedstraightthroughmyalreadybrokenheart.

I shook my head back and forth rapidly, trying to shake away the pain he was dishing out.

“Patrick,” I said and took a step back. My chin wobbled. Fuck. I couldn’t cry in front of him. I
wouldn’t.

“Shannon,” he said and closed the space between us in three quick strides. His hand reached for

myforearmandIgaspedfromthesurprise.Hisotherhandpressedtomycheek.“Letmeshowyou
howsorryIam.It’skillingme.Ihurtyou,andI’msorry.Butitwon’thappenagain.”

“Youdon’twantme,”IsaidasIflinchedagainathissuddenholdonme.“You’remadyoucan’t

haveme.Webothknowit,Patrick.I’mnevercomingbacktoDesMoines.I’mstayinghere.”

“WithPowell?”heasked,hisgreeneyesbeginningtoglintwithjealousy.Damnit.Iknewit.“He’s

nogoodforyou.”

“Thatmaybe,”amasculine,veryfamiliarvoicesaid.
Igaspedandpulledbackonlytoseehim…Oliver…standinginmydoorway.I’dbeensofocused

onPatrickIhadn’theardthebellchimeatthedoor.

“Butifyoudon’twantmyfistinyourface,you’regoingtogetyourhandsoffmygirlfriend.”

ChapterTWENTY-EIGHT

OLIVER

Theasshole’seyesnarrowedonme.
Shannon’swidenedinsurprise.
“You’restilltouchingher,”Isaid,steppingcloser.
Redblurredtheedgesofmyvision.Eversincethedaybefore,I’dbeentryingtofigureoutwhat

to say to Shannon to get her to believe nothing had happened with Bethany, to apologize for being
suchafuckingdickatthehospital.Allofitsoundedlikebullshit.TherewasnowayIcouldgotoher
withoutbeingabletoexplaineverythinginawaythatmadesense—thatwouldmakeherforgiveme,
likeIneededherto…desperately.

On top of all of it, I’d driven my parents back to Georgia the day before, turned around, and

drivenhome.Ihadn’tsleptinalmostforty-eighthours,butwhenIgotatextfromBethanytellingme
she’dgonetoexplaintoShannon,IhadcomeassoonasIcould.

I’dalmostwantedtostranglethelittleshitfornotmindingherownbusiness.
“What are you doing here?” Shannon asked, wide-eyed as Patrick finally let her go when I got

closeenoughtopunchhim.Screwmycatchinghand.I’dlovetojammyfistintohisface.Thatshe
thoughtIwasn’tanybetterthanhim,thinkingthatIcouldhavecheatedonher—her,ofallpeople—
mademewanttopunchmyownface,too.

IglaredatPatrickandreachedout,wrappingmyarmaroundherwaistandpullinghertomyside.

Shestiffenedimmediately,butfuckhim.Hewasn’ttouchingheragain.Ifshedidn’tforgiveme,that
washerchoiceandmyfault,buttherewasnowayhewasleavingtherethinkinghehadachanceof
puttinghishandsonheragain.

“Ithoughtwehaddinnerplans,”Iwhispered,brushingmylipsagainsthertemple.
Patrick’sfaceflushedasIkeptmyeyesgluedtohimwhileIkissedher.
Shannon flinched again, but I held her tighter. Fuck, there was nowhere else I wanted her to be.

Ever.

“Youshouldgo,”Isaid,glaringatPatrick.“You’velosther,andyouwon’thaveheragain.Leave

beforeyoumakeanassofyourself.”

“Healreadydid,”Shannonsaid.HergazehadstayedfixedonhimwhileIheldher.“Go,Patrick.”
“He’llthrowyouaway,”Patricksaid,hishandsinfistslikehewantedtoripherawayfromme.
Likefuckthatwouldhappen.NowthatIhadherinmyarms,Iwasn’tlettinghergo.I’dstayglued

tohersideuntilsheforgaveme.

“Never.Youhadsomethinggoodandtreatedherlikeshittheentiretimebecauseyouthoughtshe

hadtoworktobeasgoodasyou.I’llneverfuckingthrowherawaylikeyoudid.”

Itwasavow.Imeanteveryword.AssoonasIspokethem,Shannonstiffenedbeforerelaxingnext

tome.

God,Ihopedshebelievedme.
“We’lltalklater,”Patricksaid,deepeninghisvoiceandlookingather.

IpushedherbehindmeuntilIwasinfrontofher.Fuckthat.
“You don’t get it,” I said, unable to stop myself from practically growling at the obnoxious

dickhead.“She’smine,andshe’snotgoingbacktoyou.”

“Icanhandlethis,Oliver.”
“Youcan,”Isaidandturnedtolookather,“butyouwon’t.You’vedealtwithenoughshitlately

andyou’renottakingthison.”

Aflutterofsomethingsoftenedhereyes,butIturnedbacktoPatrickbeforeIcouldreadit.
“Go.AndhonesttoGod,Ihearyou’vecontactedheragainandyou’llregretit.”
“You’rethreateningme?”hesaid,pullingback.“Wonderwhatthemediawillsayaboutthat.”
“Ifyouknewanythingaboutme,you’dknowIdon’tgiveashitwhatanyonesaysaboutme.Are

yougoingtogo,ordoIneedtohelpyououtthedoor?”

“God,Patrick.Go.”Shannon’sannoyancerangthickandclear.“Imean,myGod.Youhadmeand

treated me like shit. You took advantage of me, you killed any love I had for you long before you
screwedPriscilla.Can’tyoujustdoonedecentfreakingthinginyourlifeandleavemealone?”

“Iloveyou.”
Sheglaredathimandthenwalkednexttome.Shewasstiffandangry,andIsawitinhereyes,but

Istillfuckinggrinnedwhensheslidherarmsaroundmywaist.“Youdon’tknowwhatloveis.Ifyou
did,youwouldhavecherishedmewhenyouhadme,nothungmeouttodryandexpectedmetostay
withyou.You’reselfishandegotisticalandyou’repissedyoulostatoy.Nowgo,orOliverwillhelp
you.”

Hegroundhisteethtogetherbeforesnarlingatme.WhenhelookedbackatShannon,hisgreen

eyesturnedtoice.“Youaren’tworthitanyway.”

Afrustratedsoundleftherlipsandherfingersdugintomywaist.Heleft,thedoorslammingshut

behindhim,andassoonashe’ddisappearedpastthewindows,sheletmegoandsteppedaway.

Ireachedforher,butsheheldupherhands,lookingupatmewithtearsinhereyes.
Damnit.I’ddonethat.Patrickplayedapart,Iwassureofit,butmostofthosetearswereforme.
“Don’t,”shesaid,shakingherhead.“Iwantyoutogo,too.”
Iscowledather.“No.”
“God, Oliver.” She paused and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “This is too much today. Too

muchthisweek.Please,Idon’tknowwhyyou’rehereorwhyyoudidallthat,butyouhavetoleave.I
can’tdothisrightnow.”

Tearsdrippeddownhercheeks.Iwasfrozenhelpless—unabletoreachforher,unabletosoothe

her.

“EverythingIjustsaidtohimistrue.”
“Andyetyoutreatedmethesame.”
Fuck.Itwastrue.Mostly.“Iknow,andI’mheretoapologize.Tobegyourforgiveness.”
She took another step back. I was losing her in front of my eyes. Pain sliced my chest as more

tearsfell.

“Please,Shannon.Letmeholdyou.I’msosorryforthehospital,foryesterday,fornotchasing

after you. I was a dick, and I know it. I didn’t mean it. I was angry and terrified. It was my dad,
Shannon—the guy who taught me everything, and I was thinking the worst.” Emotion clogged my
throatandIpulledinabreath.“IwasfuckingterrifiedandangryIwasn’tthereforhim.Waspissedhe
hadn’tlistenedtomeandstayedhome.Sofuckingpissedthattheywenttothatgamewhenhewasn’t
feelingwell.Itwasn’tyou—honesttoGod,itwasn’tyou.”

“Thiswasamistake,”shesaid,herchinwobbling.God,IhatedthatI’ddonethistoher.“We…it

wassex…andthen,wejustgotsweptawayinallofit.Butwedon’twork…”

“Wedo.”Damnitlikehellwedidn’t.WeworkedbetterthananyoneIknew.“Givemethischance.

Ididn’tfuckBethany.Ididn’ttouchher,exceptwhenshehelpedmetomyroom.ButIsweartoGod.I
knewIhadhurtyou.Ihadsomuchinmyhead,Ijust…didn’thandleitright.Iknowthat.”

“Iknowyoudidn’tdoanythingwithher.Ibelievedher.”
Not me. Her words made her point, punching me in the chest. “But not me. You wouldn’t have

believedme.”

Shit.
Fuck.
“Listen to me,” I said, reaching for her again as she stepped back. I took her hands in mine and

heldthem,despitetheurgetopullhertomychest,towrapmyarmsaroundhersoshecouldn’tget
away. “Fuck, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have said anything at the
hospital. I should have hugged you and let you help me. I should have let you be there for me, but
besides my parents I’m just so fucking used to not having someone in my corner—not really, not
genuinely. I didn’t think, and I hate that I hurt you. Yesterday I had to get them home, and I was
hungoverandIwasn’tthinkingclearly.Ishouldhavecomeafteryou.Ishouldhavedroppedtomy
knees and begged your forgiveness. I’ll do it now, if you want.” I stopped and tried for a grin that
failed.

“Youhurtme,”shewhispered.“PatrickalwaysdidandIalwaysgavein.”
“I’mnothim.”Shehadtoknowthat,atleast.“I’mnothim.Youknowthat.I’veshownyouI’mnot

thatguy,butitdoesn’tmeanI’mperfect,either.We’llhurteachother.Frequently.That’stheuglytruth
oflife,butitdoesn’tmeanwestoptrying.Itdoesn’tmeanwecan’tuseittomakeusstrongerinstead
ofrippingusapart.Please.Givemeachancetomakethisbetter.”

Shechokedonacry,andIstoppedresisting.Ipulledhertomeuntilherheadhitmychestandmy

handswrappedaroundherlowerback.

“God,I’msosorry.Iloveyou,Shannon,andIhatethatIhurtyou.Itfuckingkillsme.Forgiveme.

Atleastgivemethechancetoearnit.”

Iheldherwhileshecriedandsniffed.
Iheldheruntilshecollapsedherweightintome.
I held her until a shiver rolled through her and she finally…fucking finally…wrapped her arms

aroundmeandheldmeback.

“Okay,”shewhispered.Shelookedupatme,pressedherchintomychest,andallthepainIwas

feelingevaporatedwhenhereyesmetmine.“Okay.Iforgiveyou.”

“Don’t.” I pressed my hand to her cheek. Satisfaction and victory rolled through me when she

meltedintomytouch.“LetmeprovetoyouthatI’veearnedit.”

“Youhave,”shesaid,herlipstwitching.“You’rehere.”
FuckingChrist.Sheslayedme.
AlowgroanbubbledfrommeandIpushedherbackjustenoughsoIcouldreachherlipswith

mine.

“I’mgoingtokissyounow,”Iwhispered,mynosebrushingagainsthers.“Andyou’regoingto

fuckingloveit.”

Shelaughedsoftlyandnodded.“Please.”
Itookhermouthharshly.Myneedwastoogreat,mydesiretoshowherhowmuchhertrustand

forgivenessandlovemeanttome.Islidmytongueintohermouthanddevouredher,unabletostop
myhandsfromroaminghersides,pullinghertome.Thekisswasfranticandwild,likesomuchof

whatwewere.

Ilostmyselfinit,lostmyselfinthefeelofherandherscentandhertaste,andbeforeIknewitI

hadherinmyarms,mycockagainstthecenterofher,andIplacedheronthetopofacounter.

Herfingersdugintomyshoulders,throughmyshirt.Irelishedthepain.Iwantedhertohurtme,

givemethepainI’dcausedinher.

ShewhimperedasIheldheragainstmyharddick,rockingagainstme.
Iswallowedhercriesaswelostourselvesinthemoment,lostourselvesineachother,anditwas

onlyahumoredthroatclearingthatpulledmyattentionawayfromher.

Wewerebothpantingwhenweturnedourheadstowardthesound.
“Fuck,” I whispered when I saw Melissa leaning against a wall, arms crossed over her chest, a

veryamusedsmileonherface.

“Iforgotshewashere,”Shannonwhisperedandthengiggled.
Fuckinggiggled.
“Nowthat’swhatIliketosee,”Melissasaid.“Iverymuchlikeyoumakingherlaughratherthan

makinghercry.”

Melissa’ssmiledisappearedandIsobered.
“Metoo.”
“Seethatyoudoitmoreoftenthen.”
Withfuckingpleasure.“Iwill,”IpromisedMelissa.“Nowcanwegetbacktoit?”
“Oliver!”Shannonsmackedmeagainstmychest,butitlackedanyheat.
“Ohno,”Melissasaid,liftingherhandinawave.“I’llletmyselfout.Youtwo…”Shepausedand

winked.“Well,youtwojustgetbacktowhateveritwasyouweredoingbefore.”

“Iloveyou,MissyPissy,”Shannonsaid.
Icouldhavelethergotohugherfriend,butIdidn’t.Shewasinmyarms,andIwasgoingtokeep

herthereuntilIwasdonewithher.AndI’dhaddaystoplanoutourmake-upsex.Iwasstockedfullof
fantasies.

“Iloveyoutoo,ShannaBanana.”
I laughed at their crazy nicknames and said goodbye to Melissa before she walked down the

hallway.

“Weshouldfinishthissomewhereelse,”Isaid,turningbacktoShannon.
“I have work to do,” Shannon said, and my gut tightened. My dick was still hard against her. I

neededinsideofher.

Now.
Thenshegrinnedandranafingerdownmyjaw.“Butitcanwait.”

***

Oneofmyhandsslidaroundtoherfrontandpressedagainstherclit.
MyotherhandwenttoherassandIpressedmythumbagainstherpuckeredhole.
Iwasn’tfuckingherthistime.Shewasonherhandsandknees,fuckingme,rockingherhipsback

assheslidalongthelengthofmyshaft—anddamn,shewassofuckinggorgeoustakingeverything
shewantedfrommewithoutshamethatIhadtofighttonotexplodebeforeshedid.

“Yes,” she whimpered. She faltered in her hurried movements when I pressed my thumb against

her,notentering,justteasing.“Oliver,please.”

“Yourass?”Igrunted.“Youwantmefillingyourass?Youlikeit,don’tyou?Sofuckingnaughty

forme.”

“Please.”
“No.”Ipulledmyhandbackandsmackedherass,lovingthewayshejumpedatthestingofthe

painandrearedbackintomeatthesametime.“Fuckme,Shannon.”

Iheldheragainstmyhipsasmyorgasmbegantocoiltightinmyballs.Bendingoverher,Ihit

herdeeper.Iwantedhertobeconsumedbyme.

We’d made love earlier and we’d eaten. Then we’d taken a nap, naked and tangled in her bed,

beforeI’dwokenupwithhermouthwrappedaroundmydick.

ShesuckedmeuntilIwashardandreadyandthenrolledtoherknees,asoft,pleadingtoneinher

voicewhenshewhispered,“Fuckme,please.I’vemissedyou.”

Andhellifithadn’tundoneme.I’dmissedhertoo.
Ialwayswouldwhenshewasn’taroundme.
“Shannon,honey.”Igruntedandpulledheragainstme.
Her hands slid out from beneath her until she fell to her elbows, and I knew she was close. But

fuck,shefeltsogood.

“You’re so fucking hot and tight wrapped around me, honey. Take me. All of it. Show me what

youlike.”

“You,”shewhimpered,hercuntbeginningtogettightaroundme.“Ilikeyou.”
Ireacheddownandwrappedahandaroundherthroat,pullingheruptomeuntilherbackwasto

mychest.Ididn’tputpressurethere,butheldherfirmly.“Youloveme.”

She cried out from the change in position and her hands flew to my wrist in front of her. The

fingersofmyotherhandpressedandrolledagainstherclit.

“Sayit,”Igrowledinherear,fuckingherharder.Hereyesclosedandherheadfellbackagainst

myshoulder.Damnit,shewassotinyandmalleableinmyarms.Sofuckingturnedonbyeverything
Ididtoher.Iwouldnevergetsickofher.

Neverstopdesiringherbodyorherlaughterorhersmilesorhercunt.
I’dneverstoplovingher.
“Sayyouloveme,”Isaid.“Ineedtohearit.”
Shemusthaveheardthedepthofmyvoice,thehonestyburiedinsidethatshe’dalwaysseemtorip

frommewhetherIwanteditornot.

“Iloveyou,”shepanted.“Iloveyou,Oliver.”
Shecamethen,mythumbonherclit,myhandatherthroat,andmydickburieddeep.
It still wasn’t enough, and as she came in my arms and around my dick, I followed quickly,

gruntingthatIlovedhertoowhileIshotmyloaddeepinsideofher.

I pushed her forward, cushioning her fall, and settled my weight over hers, bracing up on an

elbow to avoid crushing her. We rode out our orgasms connected, slowly, and when she’d drained
everydropfrommeandshe’dstoppedtighteningaroundmydick,Istayedinsideofher,pullingout
andpushinginatalanguidpace.

She trembled beneath me, and I saw her lips tilt to a smile. “I like it when you do that,” she

whispered.“Justlikethis.”

“Ilikeitwhenyou’rebeneathme,”IrepliedandbrushedhairoffhercheeksuntilIcouldseeher

eyes. “I’m still really sorry, Shannon. I’m so sorry I hurt you so bad. I’ll do my best to not let it
happeninthefuture.”

“Iknow,”shesaidsoftly.“ButIforgiveyou,andIloveyou.”

Ibrushedmylipsagainsthercheek.“Iloveyoutoo.”
Idid.I’dtakethischanceshegavemeandprovetoherexactlythekindofmanIwantedtobe.I

wantedtotakehertomyhouse,burnitdownandbuildanotheroneinitsplacethatwaseverything
she had ever dreamed of. I wanted to plant my babies inside of her and watch them grow up,
flourishingunderherkindandcrazylove.

Iwantedtohaveherbymysideaftereverygame,celebratingeverywinandcommiseratingafter

everyloss.

I would spend the rest of my days proving to her exactly how much I loved her, how much I

cherishedher,howmuchIneverwantedtohurtheragain,andifIdid,IwantedtoprovetoherthatI
wouldn’tbeafuckingdumbassandI’dmakeamendsimmediately,notlettingitfesteruntilitbecame
burieddeepinsideher.

Shannon Hale swooped into my life at a time when love and laughter and forever were the last

damnthingsonmymind,butshechangedmymindaboutallofitalmostassoonasI’dtouchedher,
beforeIcouldadmitittomyself.

Now,Ijusthadtospendtherestofmylifeshowingherhowmuchitmeanttome.
It’dbethedirtiestgameofmylife.

EPILOGUE

SHANNON

Confettiraineddownonmeandthemassivecrowdallowedonthefieldafterthefinalfieldgoal

haddeterminedourvictory.

TheRaleighRoughRiderswereSuperBowlChampions.
MycheeksachedfromgrinningsowideasIsearchedthroughthehordeofpeople,tryingtofind

BeauxorOliver.

Next to me, Jillian Rudolph squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to the stage they’d set up

immediatelyfollowingthegame.

“Comeon!”sheshouted,turningbacktolookatme.Mascarastainedhercheeksfromhappytears

andIknewminelookedsimilar.“They’rethisway!”

As soon as we got close, elbowing our way through the reporters and ducking beneath their

oversizedcameras,IcamefacetofacewithoneofthemenI’dbeensearchingfor.

“Wefuckingdidit!”Oliverpulledmeintohisarmsandliftedmehighintotheair,squeezingme

sohardIwasbreathless.“Ican’tbelievewepulleditoff.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. “You were amazing. That last

catchrightonthetwo-yardlineyouhadwillgodowninhistoryasoneofthebestever.”

Heswungmeinacirclebeforesettingmeonmyfeet.“Itwasahard-foughtgame,bybothteams.”
IrolledmyeyesbeforeIplantedmylipsonhis.Oliverwasn’tknownforhishumility.Iblamed

hisstatementonshock.Hewasright,though:RaleighandSeattlehadbattledbackandforthallgame,
making it a nail-biter of epic proportions. An interception with less than a minute left had ended in
ourgame-winningfieldgoalandafinalscoreof27-25.

“I’msoproudofyou,”Iwhisperedintohisear.
“Hey.WhatamI,choppedliver?”
IturnedtoBeaux,andOliverletmegosoIcouldimmediatelybesweptupinmybrother ’sarms.

HesqueezedmealmostastightlyasOliverjusthad,butIclungtohimmoretightly.“I’msodamn
proudofyou,”Iwhispered,holdinghimsotightaroundhisneckthatIthoughtImightchokehim.
“Canyoubelieveyou’vedoneit?”

“Feelsfuckingawesome.”
Heletmego,andOliver ’shandwenttomylowerback.AlookIdidn’tunderstandpassedbetween

thetwoofthembeforeweheardanotherroarrumblethroughthecrowd.

“That’sCoach,”Beauxsaid,noddingatOliver.“Needtogettothepodium.”
“Comeon.”Oliverpressedmeforward,stoppingbrieflytoacceptcongratulationsandpatsonthe

backfrommediaandfansandfamilymembersofteammateswhilehepushedmetowardthepodium
withhim.

Myfeethaltedashereachedthebottomofthestairs.
“Comewithme.”
IglancedbetweenBeauxandOliver.“Ishouldstayhere.”

“Fuckifyouare,”Beauxsaid,ateasingglimmerinhiseye.“Family’sallowedupherewhenthe

MVPtrophyispresented.”

Myeyeswidened.“MVP?You?”
“WhatamI,choppedliver?”IlaughedasIturnedtoOliver,whorepeatedBeaux’sexactquestion

fromearlier.

“You?”
Henodded,lipstwistingintoasmirk.“Ofcourse.Yousaidyourselfthatcatchwouldgodownin

historyasthebestever.”

“You’reanasshole,”Beauxsaid,slappinghimontheshoulder.“Ofcourseit’sme.Wouldn’thave

gottenthewinwithoutmyarmofsteel.”

Mygazejumpedbetweenbothofthemandtheirbanter.Ihadnoideawhowasbeingseriousand

whohadwon,butitdidn’tmatter.Theywerebothincredibleandhadplayedanamazinggame.

Reluctantly, I let Oliver guide me onto the podium. There, I was met by Jillian, who had found

Danny,Kolbywithhisdaughter,Mya,onhiship,andthecoacheswiththeirfamilies.

Assoonaswemadeitupthere,OliverpulledmetohissideasCoachPomvillegaveaspeechthat

sentthethrongofpeopleinfrontofusintoanotherhystericcheer.

Whenhewasdone,heturnedtoOliverandwinked.“Andnow,forourMVP!Amanwhohasbeen

with this team for the last five years, who has fought the hard battles, celebrated the victories, and
helpedleadthisteamintowhatitbecametoday.OurTeamCaptain…andourMVP,OliverPowell!”

ThesoundfrombeneaththepodiumbecamesoloudthatIfoughttheurgetocovermyears,but

mygrinspreadsowideIthoughtmycheekswouldburst.

Olivertuggedmeforwardwithhimtoacceptthetrophy,notdroppinghishandfrommineuntilhe

hadtheMVPtrophyinhishandsandraiseditabovehishead.

“Thankyou,”hesaidintothemicrophone,smilingdownathisparents,whohadmadeitintothe

frontrow.Afterhisdad’sheartattackatthefirstgameoftheseason,they’dgonehomeandhe’dhad
surgery.Thenhe’dsoldhisfarm,butittookhimsolongtorecoverfromsurgeryandthenfinishthe
salethattheyhadn’tbeenabletomakeittomanygamesduringtheyear.Tearsdrippeddownbothhis
parents’cheekswhenOliversmiledatthemandbeganthankingthecrowdforthehonor,thankinghis
coachandhisteam.Ibarelyhearditoverthenoise,despitehimbeingnexttome.

“Now,I’dliketothankthemostimportantwomaninmylife.”Heturnedtomethenandmyjaw

dropped. Next to him, I saw Beaux pull something out of his pocket and slide it into Oliver ’s
outstretchedandwaitinghand.

MybrowfurrowedwhenOliversetthetrophyhe’dbeenholdingonthepodiumandgrinnedout

atthecrowd.

“Earlierthisyear,Ihadonethingonmymind:thisgame.Iwantedtowinandwantedtomakeitto

theSuperBowlmorethananythingelse.Butthen,thisbeautifulwomanstandingnexttomewalked
intomylifeandmyentiregameplanchanged.”

MyhandswenttomymouthwhenIsawwhatBeauxhadplacedinhishand.Abox.Ablackbox.A

small,tiny,blackvelvetringbox.

Ishookmyheadfranticallyandtearsbeganfallingdownmycheeks.
“You’renotdoingthis,”Isaid,glancingatthecrowdbehindusandinfrontofus.Hecouldn’tbe

doingthis.Notinfrontoftelevisioncamerasandmillionsofviewers.

“Oh, I’m doing this,” he said, pulling back from the microphone so only I could hear him. He

turnedbacktowardthecameras,andIwasalmostblindedbytheconstantflashing.“ShannonHale,I
loveyouandIwanteveryoneinAmericatoknowit.Makemethehappiestmanintheworld,knowing

thatonthedayIfinallywontheringI’vebeenwantingmyentirelife,thatyoualsoagreetothisring
fortherestofyours.Sayyes,andhavethisdaygodowninhistoryasbeingabsolutely,onehundred
percent,thebestdayIcouldeverhaveinmyentirelife.”

“You’reinsane,”Iwhispered,notrealizingmyvoicecarriedtothemicrophone.
“Say yes!” someone cried out from beneath the podium. The entire New Orleans stadium began

shakingwhileIswore,andeverypersoninattendancechanted,“Yes!Yes!Yes!”

Oliverleanedtowardthemicrophoneandsmirked.“They’rewaitingforyouranswer,honey.”He

openedthebox,andIsawtheringthatsatinside.Itwasgorgeous,ahugeemerald-cutdiamondthat
hadtohavecostmorethanhisAudisportscar.

Myentirebodytrembledfromtheshock,therushoftheday,andthewaythepodiumseemedto

shake.

“Yes,”Ifinallymanagedtochokeout.Inoddedrepeatedlyandsteppedtowardhimuntilhedraped

anarmatmylowerback,pullingmeflushagainsthim.“Yes,ofcourseI’llmarryyou.”

“Youhearthat?”hecalledintothemicrophone.“Nowit’sthebestdayofmylife.”
He slid the ring onto my ring finger and bent down, enveloping me in his arms, and kissed me

whilethethousandsofpeopleinattendanceroaredtheirapproval.

THANKYOU

Eeeek!DirtyPlayerwassomuchfuntowrite.Ihopeyou’veenjoyeddelvingintothedirtymind

ofOliverPowelljustasmuchasIdid.

Thankyoufirst,toallofmyearlyreadersofthisbook.Kathryn,Lisa,Laura,Kelly,Brittainy,and

Tonya...Iabsolutelyloveallofyouandyourinput.Thanksforhelpingmetightenthisupandmakeit
evenbetterthantheoriginalversionIsentyou.

Special thanks to my “team” that takes my manuscript and makes it into an actual book…Amy,

Emily, Summer, Shannon…from cover design and editing to proofreading and formatting, any
successIhavewithabookislargelyduetoallofyourhardwork,too,sothankyouallsomuchfor
workingwithme,forputtingupwithmycraziness,andmylastminuteideasorschedulechanges.

To all my author buddies and FTN…F*ck It. You all rock. Here’s me flashing you the middle

finger.

To all the readers and bloggers who read my stories and leave reviews or send me emails and

privatemessages,thankyoufornotonlytakingthetimetoreadmybooks,buttogotheextrastep
andcontactmedirectlyorleaveareview.Theyallmeaneverythingtome.

ToChristyandKelly,justbecauseIloveyou.Iamsothrilledtohavemetbothofyouthisyear

andformingfriendshipsIknowwilllastforever.

And finally to my family…you may not always understand my special brand of crazy, but you

managetoputupwithit.You’rethebestandIloveyoualltopieces.

AbouttheAUTHOR

Stacey Lynn currently lives in Minnesota with her husband and four children. When she’s not

conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you
canfindherplayingwithherchildren,curleduponthecouchwithagoodbook,orontheboatwith
herfamilyenjoyingMinnesota’sbeautiful,yettooshort,summer.

Shelivesoffherdailypotofcoffee,canonlywritewithabowlfulofSkittlesnearby,andhasbeen

inlovewithromancenovelssincebeforeshecoulddriveherselftothelibrary.

IfyouwouldliketoknowmoreaboutStaceyLynn,followherhere:

Facebook:www.facebook.com/staceylynnbooks
Twitter:@staceylynnbooks
Website:http://www.staceylynnbooks.com

Ifyouenjoyedthisbook,pleaseleaveareviewonthesitewhereitwaspurchased.

Anddon’tforgettocheckoutStacey’sotherbooks:

S.Layne~EroticRomance

(www.facebook.com/slaynebooks)

Entice,TheAffairSeries

Embrace,TheAffairSeries

Enflame

Untitled–LateSummer2016