“We’re both scheduled to fly back with the team after the game.”
“I didn’t think he’d be allowed to fly with the team.”
“Why not?”
“Eh. What the hell do I know? The other article said suspended players couldn’t have contact with any team members or attend the game. I figured they’d make him hitch another way home.”
“Brody doesn’t think he’ll get a suspension, probably just a fine.”
“Uh . . . I guess you didn’t get past looking at your ass on the screen. Brody was suspended. Came across about an hour ago.”
I hung up quickly and scoured the rest of the morning feed until I came across the other article Indie was referring to. Easton Headed Back East. The article said he’d been fined and suspended for one game for violating the team’s new personal-conduct policy. Colin Anderson, on the other hand, had only been fined.
Shit.
Double shit.
Brody was going to be devastated he was suspended, and I didn’t even bring my own employer the scoop on a story I was involved in.
***
I’d tried calling and texting Brody all afternoon, but he never responded. As soon as my interview wrapped, I headed straight back to the hotel.
“Hey. What are you doing?” Brody was sitting in a chair, the room quiet, a glass full of clear liquid in his hand.
“Proving everyone right.” He gulped back the remainder of his drink.
I sat on the edge of the bed across from him. “I’m sorry. I heard. I tried to reach you, but your phone must be off.”
“It is. Permanently.” He eyed the phone on the table next to him. The screen was smashed. I didn’t need to ask how it happened.
“Is it appealable?”
“I’m not going to appeal it.”
“Why? Especially if Colin only got a slap on the wrist?”
“Because it will just drag me back into a bad place. I don’t need that shit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“After I got drafted into the NFL, I started to move on with my life. Until Willow reappeared again. I lost focus. Crashed my car speeding one night heading to find her when she went on a binge. I started missing practice and workouts, couldn’t concentrate on the game. My performance took a nosedive, and Coach benched me to teach me a lesson. I eventually lost my spot on the team by getting sucked into Willow’s life again.”
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I do. After Drew died, I couldn’t let go. My grades dropped. I stopped going to classes. Eventually, I took a semester off. Little by little it got easier, but all it took was the slightest memory, and I would be right back there.”
“I figured he was important to you.”
“He was my fiancé. We got engaged right after high school but wanted to wait until after the draft. He was riding a quad one Saturday and hit something. It flipped over, and he broke his neck. Died instantly.”
Brody blew out a long breath and reached for me. “Come here.” I sat on his lap. “You’re pretty fucking incredible, you know that?”
“Is that the liquor talking, or you?”
“You said liquor and all I heard was ‘lick her.’ I have a flight back to New York tonight. But now I have a hard-on and need a taste before I go.”
“You realize you just went from brooding to perverted in under five minutes.”
“Told ya. I’m moving on.” He started to unbutton my blouse.
“What time is your flight?”
“About an hour after I come inside of you twice. Whatever time that is.”
Chapter 18
Brody
Even in the offseason, I stuck to my Tuesday schedule for visiting Marlene. The Sunday staff at Broadhollow Manor had never seen me before. I signed in and introduced myself.
“We spoke on the phone a few times this week. I’m Karen. I do weeknights and Sundays. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Easton.”
“Brody, please.”
She nodded. “Brody.”
“How is she today?”
“Still the same. Whatever it was that made her so upset last week seems to have been forgotten. She’s more like her normal self again.”
“You mean like telling a nurse she should wear less lipstick so people concentrate on her figure more and on her face less?”
Karen covered her smiling mouth. “I heard about that one. She’s a hoot.”
“Says the lady who can pull off bright red, shiny lips.”
The nurse blushed.
“Is she in her room?”
“I think she’s still in the activity room. One of our staff was playing checkers with her when I passed by before.”
I was not expecting that staff member to be Grouper. He wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform either. He had on a long-sleeve checkered shirt with a sweater vest over it.
“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Rogers. What are you doing here?” I walked to Marlene and kissed her cheek. “You’re not trying to hit on my woman, are you?”
Grouper waved me off and grumbled something.
“It’s Sunday,” Marlene said. “We play checkers and watch TV. But there’s no football on today.”
“I was in the neighborhood, so thought I’d stop in and check on things.” Grouper tried to play off his visit as casual.
“He turns on my television every week before we play. I don’t really like football, but we play checkers, too, so I don’t say anything.”
“Is that so? The old bastard even comes in on his day off, huh?”
“That’s not nice. He’s not a bastard. He’s just old and moves sort of slow. And a little hard of hearing, too.”
I grinned at Grouper. The only thing I was looking forward to in aging was being able to say whatever the hell was on my mind and getting away with it.
Grouper gave me the evil eye. “It’s quiet in here this Sunday without any games to watch.”
I should have known I was going to hear shit from him about getting suspended. “I’m not happy there’s no game today either.”
“You should be unhappy. Waste of perfectly good talent to not be playing a game today.”
An hour later, I was sitting across from Marlene, and Grouper was looking on as the two of us played checkers. Five minutes into the game, half of her black pieces were kings, and she’d stolen half my reds. She pulled a double jump I didn’t see coming. “What the hell? You’re a checkers shark?”
Grouper chuckled. “You were sitting there thinking I was letting her win, weren’t you?”
“Actually, I was thinking you weren’t capable of beating her. That’s why I joined in. Give Marlene a little challenge.” I actually had thought Grouper was letting her win.
“Only one who ever gave me a run for my money was my Willow.” Marlene slid her piece into my home base. “King me.” Grouper and I looked at each other. Both of us were silently waiting to see what would come next. The last time she’d thought about Willow hadn’t gone well.
“Go easy on me, lady. Or see what happens the next time you want a pastrami on rye from Heidelman’s.”
She waved off my comment. “Tell Willow to bring the wooden checkers set from the bottom cabinet of the china closet in the dining room.” It blew my mind how she could remember where she kept a game board, but couldn’t recall her only granddaughter hadn’t been here to see her in three years.”
“You got it.”
“She said she’s been busy but is coming to see me on my birthday.”
“Oh yeah.”
“And tell her to stop by Zen Garden. They have the best wonton soup.”
Grouper piped in, “The salt in that stuff isn’t good for you.”
Yeah. No worries there. I was pretty sure Willow wasn’t coming.
Chapter 19
Delilah
My normally jittery nerves were anxious as I boarded the flight back to New York on Monday afternoon. The team and most of the reporters had headed back afte
r the game last night, but I’d had to stay for an interview with a local college running back who was thought to be the number-one draft pick next season. Brody had acted fine when I spoke to him earlier, but I imagined the team’s loss yesterday weighed heavily on his shoulders. The second-string quarterback had thrown four interceptions, any one of which cost the team the loss.
The captain’s voice came overhead to tell us bad weather to the east had takeoffs backed up, and we were returning to the gate, although we wouldn’t be disembarking the plane. We should sit back and enjoy a complimentary beverage. Sure. Easy for you to say. These tin cans obviously didn’t have the same effect on him. Why did every flight I was on lately have to mention bad weather or some other potentially catastrophic scenario?
Once we parked and the seatbelt sign turned off, I made a quick trip to the ladies’ room, then dug in my bag for my cell to tell Brody I was running late. The screen illuminated, then immediately flashed a lightning bolt with a drained battery and proceeded to power down. “Damn it.”
“You need help with something?” My seatmate was probably in his late sixties. I thought about asking him to use his phone, but I had no idea what Brody’s number even was. I’d never actually dialed it before.
I held up my phone. “My phone died, and I don’t know the person’s number. I’m supposed to meet him at my apartment, and I’m guessing we’re going to be late since they just shut off the engine.”
“Ah. Cell phone withdrawal. The effects can be just as daunting as heroin, they say.”
“You don’t have one?”
“Nope.”
“Is someone picking you up at the airport when we land?”“
“Yes. My wife.”
“Does she have a phone?”
He shook his head, mildly amused.
“How will she know we’re delayed?”
“I supposed she’ll pick up the phone and call the airline, as she has for the last forty years. I take it whomever you are meeting won’t do that?”
“Definitely not.” I smiled and tucked my bag back under the seat. “So how do you pass the time without Candy Crush, then?”
“Candy what?”
For the next half hour, I explained the intricacies of a game that didn’t sound as riveting as it was while being played. My new friend returned the favor by explaining the art of cognac. When the flight attendant came to offer us a drink, he requested only two cups. Then he pulled out a bottle from his bag, and we proceeded to sample the liquor. It tasted like crap, but one small glass mixed with my flight medication, and I was out like a light.
When we finally landed, more than three hours late, it was exactly the time Brody would be picking me up at my place. Knowing traffic would be a nightmare, I stopped in the bathroom near the gate and plugged in my phone while I used the toilet and fixed myself up. The phone illuminated again after a few minutes, enough for me to shoot off a text to Brody.
Delilah: Just landed. Phone died before we took off. Are you already at my place?
Brody: Just pulled into the parking garage.
Delilah: Sorry. Will probably take me an hour to get home. Give it two minutes, then ring 3E. Patrick has a key to my place. I’ll text him now and tell him to give it to you.
Brody: Why does Patrick have a key to your place?
I wanted to get the hell out of the bathroom. We could discuss the logistics later.
Delilah: To unlock the door. Why does anyone have a key?
I smirked, knowing he wouldn’t love that answer, and then shot off a quick text to Patrick before I unplugged and headed home.
***
Traffic was surprisingly light, and I made it home in less than half the time it ordinarily took. It was odd that I was returning after a football trip, and Brody was at my house waiting for me. The roles were typically reversed.
“Hello?” The kitchen light was on, but everything else was dark. Looking down the hallway to the bedroom, I saw the bathroom was lit.
“I’m in here.”
The door was open. I stopped in my tracks as I entered. The visual was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.
“What are you doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like I’m doing.”
“You’re . . . you’re taking a bubble bath?” Brody was sunk down into my tub, his head lolling back against the tile wall. The full length of his tall body didn’t quite fit—his legs were sticking out and over the rim. Bubbles overflowed from the tub and onto the floor. The entire room smelled like scented bath soap.
“No tub at my place. I like to soak. Feels good on my muscles.”
“And you usually soak in bubble bath?” I could barely contain my laughter.
“I don’t have any of this crap. The directions on the pink shit . . . ” He pointed to a large plastic bottle that had been full when I left but was now half empty. “ . . . said it was good for soothing muscles.”
“You only need to use a capful.”
“I was really sore.”
“You look . . . ridiculous in there.”
“What? You don’t find the bubbles sexy? If I saw you in a bathtub, I’d think it was fucking hot.”
“It’s just sort of . . . girly.”
He reached under the bubbles and took himself into his hand, the head of his semi-erect penis peeking out from the water. “Does this look girly to you?” He stroked himself leisurely.
I stopped seeing the bubbles. All I could see was his strong hand around his thick shaft, slowly rubbing up and down. The vision was positively erotic. I’d never watched a man masturbate up close before. My eyes were glued as he stroked.
“Do you pleasure yourself in here sometimes, Delilah?”
I swallowed and nodded.
“I want to watch you. See you slip your fingers inside that wet pussy and make yourself come—my cock is getting hard just thinking about it.” The speed of his pumps accelerated. I tore my eyes away and gazed up at his face; his jaw was set and tense. When our eyes caught, he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down on his stubbled throat while his pale green eyes darkened with lust. All it took was his look—I didn’t need to be touched—and my body was humming with need. When he spoke again, his voice was low, but gruff and commanding. “Take your shirt off.”
I followed every instruction he gave me, my clothes disappearing slowly, one piece at a time, until I was standing before him wearing only my underwear and shoes.
He stared at my black lace thong. “Take it off. I want to see every inch of you.” His hand fisted around his cock as he stroked faster. “Are you wet for me already, Delilah?”
Hooking my fingers into the sides of the lace, I shimmied my panties down my legs. My answer was a whisper in the quiet room. “I am.” I stepped out of the pooled black lace and reached down to remove the last of my clothing—black high heels with a strap that wrapped around my ankle.
“Leave them on.” I stopped unfastening and looked up at him. “You need the height.”
He stood from the tub. His body was gorgeous, a mass of carved muscle and smoothly tanned skin. The full length of his thick erection pressed against his hard stomach. Unconsciously, I licked my lips.
“I want to bend you over the sink, take you from behind.”
God, yes.
“And I want you to watch yourself in the mirror. I’m going to fuck you hard until you come. Then I’m going to push deep inside of you and fill your pussy with every ounce of my cum.”
“Jesus, Brody.” My knees were half weak as he walked to me. Turning my body to face the mirror, he swept my hair to the side and pressed his lips to my neck from behind. His chest was wet, but warm and hard against my body. The full length of him pushed up against the top of my ass.
“Spread your legs for me.”
I did.
“Wider.”
Slowly, he rubbed his body up and down me from behind, his cock nudging at my ass as he reached around to rub my clit. “So fucking wet for me.”
It felt so good, my eyes drifted closed as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his neck. When he slipped two fingers inside of me, a throaty moan fell from my lips.
His other hand turned my chin to the side, giving him access to my mouth. Crushing his lips to mine, his kiss was wild and shamelessly hungry. I loved that he wasn’t gentle, his actions expressing emotion and need. He cupped my breasts and squeezed, pinching my nipples so hard it bordered on pain. I threaded my fingers through his wet hair and pulled, wanting him even closer.
We were both panting, unable to get enough, when he released my mouth, his teeth tugging on my lip as we separated. “Bend.” With his hand on my back, he eased me forward, folding me at the waist. “Hold on to the sides.” My hands curled around the granite sides of the vanity, his hands curled around mine. “Look up.” My eyes rose to catch the reflection staring back at me from the mirror. Brody was right: the level was perfect with the extra four inches from my shoes. My skin was flushed, my hair was disheveled and wild, and my eyes were full of blatant desire.
“Fucking beautiful.”
He rubbed the length of himself along my wetness a few times before pushing inside. Once he made sure I was ready for him, he did exactly what he promised. Fucked me hard until I came just as hard. Then he seated himself deep inside of me and released with a carnal roar.
A few minutes later, Brody scooped me up and carried me to bed, slipping in behind me. I snuggled back against him, and his body molded around mine. “Mmm . . . I could get used to this kind of welcome home.”
“That’s good, baby. Because I threw out the vibrator in your end table drawer.”
I froze, unsure if he was kidding or not.
Brody chuckled and pulled me closer. “Relax, I’m joking. But good to know one is in there. I’d like to use it on you sometime. Better yet, I think I’d like to watch you use it on yourself.”
“You have a one-track mind.”
“I do. All Delilah’s pussy. All the time.”
I elbowed him, and we both laughed. It felt good to have Brody in my bed. We talked for more than an hour in the dark, catching up on the last few days. It felt so . . . normal. Domestic. Natural. Right.