Page 20 of The Final Score


  Oh, yes. This was good. She rested her head against the back of the sofa, closed her eyes and took several more swallows of wine.

  Maybe she should institute a wine hour at work. That could definitely be beneficial, especially on days like today. Of course, if she did that, they'd all be drunk by noon and that might be bad for productivity. Then again, think of the employee loyalty. She'd probably win some kind of national award.

  Her lips curved.

  The doorbell rang, so she got up to answer it. She hadn't realized how much she missed seeing Nathan until he stood there at her front door wearing dark jeans and a very soft-looking gray T-shirt. He was tanned from practicing outside, his dark hair falling over his forehead.

  She did not want to feel the things she felt for him, but it had been two weeks. She knew they were both professionals and busy. Nevertheless there it was, that pang of feeling, of the need to wrap her arms--and legs--around him and make him hers.

  So dangerous.

  "Hey, come on in."

  She shut the door behind him, trying to act nonchalant about this driving need to climb all over him.

  But then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her--a long, deep, soul-shattering kiss that left her breathless, and those mental walls she'd tried to construct around her emotions came crumbling down.

  "I missed you," he said.

  Everything inside of her squeezed tight, and warning bells clanged loud in her head.

  Don't get your heart involved, Mia.

  Right. That was getting more and more difficult every time they were together.

  "I missed you, too. I'm having a glass of wine. Would you like a beer?"

  "No, thanks."

  "What? Are you sick?"

  He laughed. "No. Just trying to leave the beer for maybe once a week now that we're into the season. I'll take a glass of ice water, though."

  "Oh, that's right. You don't drink much when you play. I can't believe I forgot that."

  She took her wineglass into the kitchen and refilled it, put ice and water into a glass for Nathan, then brought it into the living room and handed it to him

  "Thanks. That's a fairly good-sized pour for you. Is that glass number two? Three? Four?"

  She laughed and sat next to him on the sofa. "Two. I had a shit day."

  He leaned back on the sofa. "Tell me about it."

  "A difficult client is being ridiculously demanding with contractual items and I don't know that we'll be able to come to terms. Which is sad because I really want to sign him."

  He nodded. "Sometimes athletes can be dicks. What's he asking for?"

  "Personal representation at all of his games, both home and away. Personal cell phone numbers of all of our staff, who should be available to meet his needs twenty-four hours a day. Limo service to his games. Specific requirements like photo ops and bodyguards and things we don't provide."

  Nathan arched a brow. "Did you explain to him that's not what MHC is about?"

  "Yes. I told him we were there to manage his career, not his personal life. He said if we want--and I quote--'the privilege of managing him'--unquote--then we'll give him what he wants."

  Nathan made a face. "Dump him. He's a diva and he's not worth it, no matter how high profile he is."

  "That's what Monique said. Among other things that I won't repeat."

  His lips curved. "I can imagine what Monique thought of the guy. She doesn't much care for athletes with big egos. Sounds like this guy's ego is huge."

  "Yes. And she thinks his dick is tiny."

  Nathan laughed. "It probably is. Seriously, though, Mia, drop him. He's bad news."

  She sighed and swirled the wine around in her glass. "You're probably right. He should be some other management company's headache. Right now he's mine. My head is killing me."

  "See? Take it as a sign. You don't need this particular headache."

  When her two best friends agreed, she needed to listen. And in this case, she knew in her heart she needed to step away from Roland Green. She nodded. "You're right. I'm going to have to pass on this guy. I can't inconvenience my entire staff because some prima donna athlete thinks everyone should kiss his ass."

  "Now you're thinking clearly."

  She lifted her wineglass. "I don't know about clearly, but I know what I want--and don't want--for my company."

  "Good for you. Protect what's yours and don't let anyone step on it. No client is worth it. I don't know who this guy is, but even if he's some huge superstar, he's still not worth the hoops you and your staff would have to jump through to keep him happy."

  She half turned to face him. "Thank you for helping me find clarity."

  "You know I'll always be here for you."

  There was a knock at the door.

  "That's the pizza," Nathan said. "I ordered it on my way over."

  She wanted to kiss him for taking care of dinner. She was hungry. She was tired. She'd totally forgotten about pizza.

  He hadn't, though. He paid the delivery woman and brought the pizza into the kitchen. She followed him and took plates out of the cabinet, then got out silverware and napkins.

  "Fancy."

  She frowned. "What?"

  "I'm fine with just a paper plate. Or even a paper towel. It's just pizza, Mia. And I sure as hell don't need a knife and a fork to eat it."

  "I don't have any paper plates. And I just wanted to offer the knife and fork option."

  He grabbed a slice and bit into it, talking to her as he chewed. "You've seen me eat pizza before. It's not like you don't know me."

  "You can feel free to eat with your hands. As long as you eat in the kitchen. I'm putting mine on a plate and eating in the living room. And turning on the TV. To watch baseball."

  He gave her a long stare. "You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Cassidy."

  Mia gave him a triumphant look, then made her way into the living room. She chose a spot on the sofa, then grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, scrolling until she found the baseball game. Nathan came in with his plate and sat next to her.

  "Your uncle Gavin is playing tonight," she said.

  "Yeah. They're playing Washington. It's a good matchup."

  They ate their pizza and watched the game. Mia ate two pieces, then set her plate on the table and finished off her glass of wine while she watched Gavin Riley knock a fastball into left field that bounced into the corner.

  "Hell yes," Nathan said as Gavin ended up with a double.

  "He is so good."

  "My dad got me tickets to see one of Gavin's games when Mom first started dating Dad. We flew into St. Louis and went to the game, and I got to go to the locker room and meet Gavin and the rest of the players. It was a great trip."

  Her lips curved. She could imagine what that must have been like for Nathan as a young teenager with a case of hero worship for both Mick and Gavin Riley. "Obviously a memorable one for you."

  Nathan grinned. "It was very cool."

  After they finished eating, she took their plates into the kitchen, then grabbed her planner, flipping to one of the notebooks. She took out her pen and, as the innings progressed, made some notes on the Washington pitcher who had a wicked arm, was incredibly good-looking and was about to become a free agent. He was being coveted by almost every team. He was also shopping new management.

  "Don't you ever turn it off?"

  She glanced over at him. "Turn what off?"

  "Work."

  "Of course I do. But I'm making notes about a player."

  "Interested client?"

  "He might be."

  "And you can't tell me which one, of course."

  "Right."

  A few minutes later, Nathan asked, "It's not my uncle, is it?"

  She laughed. "No."

  "Someone on his team, then, huh?"

  "Nathan, I can't tell you. Some of these athletes currently have management companies and are looking to make a change. After we sign them, they go up on our website as clients of MHC. Until
then, it's confidential, for obvious reasons."

  "Yeah, right, I knew that. You've only told me a hundred times. Sorry."

  She laid her notebook to the side. "It's not that I don't trust you. You know I do. But the first thing I tell prospective clients is that everything we do while we're courting them is strictly in confidence."

  "I appreciate that. And it's good that you're not willing to mention it even to me."

  "Or my brothers--who have asked, by the way. Or my parents, or anyone outside of MHC. So it's not just you."

  He slid his fingers into her hair, and the way he rubbed it made her tingle all over. "That's what makes you so trustworthy. Your clients will appreciate it."

  He always made her feel better about her choices, even when she couldn't tell him anything. Even when she had to keep reminding him she couldn't tell him anything.

  "Thanks."

  They watched another inning. Mia made notes and Nathan was pretty quiet. Once they went to commercial, he looked over at her planner.

  "What kind of notes do you make?"

  She set her planner aside. "Mostly my thoughts about how to present to that particular athlete. What we can do for him to shape his brand. What his strengths are in his sport, and how we can build on that, in terms of marketing and from a contract perspective. If a player is doing exceptionally well, he can make a lot more money when his contract is up. I also note questions I'll want to ask him during the meeting."

  "What kinds of questions?" Nathan asked. "If I can ask that."

  Her lips curved. "You can. I'll ask how he feels about the team he's currently playing for. If our attorneys and agents are going to represent him in contract negotiations, we need to know if he wants to stay or if, in his mind, he's already looking toward moving to another team.

  "I also watch them play. Are they as good as the reports we've been getting on them? It's my job to build MHC into a well-recognized sports management company. I'm not going to do that by signing failures."

  He leaned back against the sofa. "Wow. You're tough."

  "I have to be. I want to build a successful company, and not every athlete is going to be good enough to be represented by us. We aren't going to be the right fit for everyone."

  "Like the guy we talked about earlier that you're going to walk away from."

  She nodded. "Headache guy."

  He laughed. "Yeah. How's the headache, anyway?"

  "Still present, but down to a dull roar now."

  "You need a hot bath to soak away the tension."

  "That sounds ideal."

  "Come on." He stood. "Let's go take a bath."

  She arched a brow. "You're going to take a bath?"

  "I'm not, no. But you are."

  She looked up at him. "I don't know, Nathan. The whole bath thing would be a lot more fun if you were going to be in the tub with me."

  He looked down at her and leveled her with a hot look that promised sex and a lot of it, which was exactly what she needed to erase the last of this tension.

  "Done. Now let's go."

  She turned off the TV and followed him upstairs. When they got to her room, she turned to face him. "You, strip. I'll start the bath."

  She started to go into the bathroom, but he grasped her hand. "No, you strip, and I'll start the bath. I'm supposed to be catering to you, remember?"

  "I don't remember that conversation at all, but I'm not going to object." She stood in front of him and pulled her top off.

  He stared.

  "Shouldn't you be running my bath?"

  "Oh. Right. Yeah. I'll get on that."

  He disappeared into the bathroom and she smiled, then shimmied out of her shorts and underwear. She grabbed the elastic she had on her wrist and wound her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head.

  The bathroom was already steamy warm when she walked in. And Nathan was naked. Awesome.

  "You ready?" he asked.

  She was ready to do many things with him. But first, she needed that bath. "Yes."

  He held out his hand for her and she stepped into the tub, settling into the water, which was hot and steamy and oh so perfect.

  Nathan stepped in after her, and she was grateful she'd opted for the town house with the oversized soaker tub, because he was a big guy. He settled in behind her and pulled her against his chest. And even though it was a good-sized tub, he still had to sit with his knees bent.

  "Feeling cramped?" she asked.

  "I'm good. I have you--naked--leaning against me. Trust me, I'm really good."

  He reached for her sponge and dipped it in the water, then ran it over her breasts and shoulders. He repeated the action over and over again. Mia closed her eyes and let the warm water and Nathan's attention melt the last of the day's tensions away.

  She opened her eyes and smoothed her hands over his knees, the crisp hairs on his legs tickling her palms. His thighs were massive compared to hers, and she pictured the way he looked in his uniform, those powerful legs used to dash away from defensive linemen as he positioned himself to throw the ball.

  When he wrapped his arms around her, she used her fingers to map his forearms. So much muscle there, too.

  She shifted in the tub to turn around, straddling his thighs.

  Nathan arched a brow. "Shouldn't you be under the water, relaxing?"

  "I am relaxed. I want to ogle you."

  He cracked a smile. "Ogle? This is relaxing to you?"

  "In ways I couldn't possibly explain." She traced a finger over his stomach, though it was somewhat covered by the water. Rippling, taut abs--a wall of solid muscle. "You have an amazing body, Nathan. So well-muscled. It speaks to the hard work you put into it."

  He grasped her hips and dragged her against his now-hard cock. "Whereas your body is all soft curves and these sweet angles I love to look at. But underneath that softness is muscle. You work hard at it, too. Did I mention how much I love your legs?"

  She liked that he appreciated more than her tits and ass. Not that she had much in the breasts department anyway. She liked that he appreciated that, too.

  "I believe you've stated that before."

  "You have great legs. I know you dig that yoga stuff, and I've watched people contort themselves into positions I could never get into."

  She squeezed her thighs against his. "Oh, I don't know. I'll bet you could if you tried."

  "Not sure I want to even try. I'd probably just embarrass myself. But you, you're all grace and beauty and elegant lines. I could see you standing on your head and making it look sexy."

  As he talked to her, he was dragging her sex back and forth across his shaft, creating agonizing pleasure sparks that made it damn hard to pay attention to the conversation.

  "Nathan."

  "Stand up, Mia."

  She pushed off his shoulders and stood, her body dripping water all over him.

  "Now kneel against my shoulders."

  She shuddered as she realized what he had in mind, but she needed this, wanted it more than she could vocalize.

  She braced her hands on the wall, and pressed her knees against his shoulders, spreading her legs for him. He cupped her butt and put his mouth on her.

  His lips felt like hot melted butter spreading over her sex. She moaned and leaned into the delicious feel of his tongue lapping at her clit, lost in the heady sensations. She was intoxicated by the rush of heat and tingling pleasure. Her knees went weak and she was thankful she had the wall and Nathan to hold her up.

  Nathan was relentless in his pursuit of her orgasm, and it didn't take long. It stirred within her, quivering and vibrating with each lap of his tongue over her flesh. And when she came she shook all over, shuddering against him in forceful quakes that seemed to go on and on until she could barely stand anymore.

  She finally sank into the water and wrapped herself around Nathan, kissing him with a deep passion that still quivered within her. He stood, taking her with him out of the tub. He laid her on the bathroom rug and left onl
y long enough to get a condom. Then he was back, his body dripping over her as he opened the condom wrapper and put it on. He laid on top of her, spread her legs and thrust into her.

  She was still quivering inside from that orgasm, her body tightening around him as he seated himself fully inside of her.

  "Fuck," was all he said as he grabbed hold of her butt and pushed himself deeper.

  "Yes." She wanted more. She wanted all of him.

  And he gave it, pounding into her with hard, punishing thrusts that took her ever higher. She lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around him, needing that deeper contact.

  She was going to come again, her pussy tightening around him like a vise.

  "Yeah. That's it, give it to me," he said, tunneling with renewed force.

  She went first, spiraling out of control with a wild cry as sweet pulses of orgasm flew through her.

  Nathan went with her, taking her mouth in a deep kiss that made each sensation that much more pleasurable. It was like being sucked into a vortex of unimaginable sensation, so incredible she could hardly breathe. All she could do was hold on to him and ride it out.

  After, she was spent and exhausted, like a limp noodle barely able to even move a limb.

  Nathan rolled off of her and lay next to her.

  "I might sleep here on the bathroom floor tonight," she said.

  He looked over at her. "Damned uncomfortable. Besides, now I'm thirsty."

  She sighed. "Demanding bastard. Fine, we'll get up."

  He stood and helped her up. They got dressed, went downstairs and she fixed ice water for both of them. They ended up watching the rest of the baseball game, then Nathan said he had to leave.

  He looked down at her. "Unless you want me to stay."

  She didn't even hesitate. "Of course I want you to stay. I've missed you the past couple of weeks."

  "I have an early practice tomorrow. I was just thinking about you. I didn't want to wake you."

  She crawled onto his lap. "I have a meeting in the morning. And if you wake me early . . ."

  He cupped her butt and dragged her against his hard cock. "So many benefits to me spending the night."

  She grinned and dug her nails into his shoulder. "So many."

  TWENTY-NINE

  IT WAS GAME DAY--THE FIRST PRESEASON GAME. Nathan had a lump of anxiety the size of Texas in his stomach. He really wished his dad was here, but he understood Dad's reasons for not coming to the game. He had told him that showing up for the game would shift focus from Nathan and the team onto him, and he didn't want that. So despite wanting to be there for Nathan, his mom and dad told him they'd watch every second of the game on TV.