Game On (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) (28 page)

Slowly, we both slid to the floor, still tangled up in each other. He pulled out of me and leaned forward to rest his forehead on mine, both of us panting heavily. As the cloud of lust evaporated and reality began to settle back in, we both tensed up and looked at each other. There was a question in his eyes I know he must have seen reflected in mine, too…

Where the hell do we go from here?

              “Gem, get up. Don’t you have to be at work today?” asked a quiet, concerned voice at the door. I turned over in bed and pulled a pillow over my head, trying to pretend the day was not happening yet. I wasn’t even remotely ready to take on the dreaded physio appointment scheduled for just an hour from now. I was almost certainly going to be late for that. Normally, by this time of morning, I would have already bounced up out of bed and breezed through most of my morning routine. But today, all I wanted to do was call in sick.

              “Are you even alive in there? Do I need to call an ambulance? Did you die?” Alice half-joked from the hallway. I could clearly picture her leaning into the door, rolling her eyes. It was somewhat encouraging to know that if anything
did
happen to me, Alice would certainly notice and care. I almost wished something had happened to me. Anything to give me a reason not to go to work today.

              “That’s it, I’m coming in,” she concluded, and before I could stop her, the door creaked open and Alice bounded into the room. She jumped on the bed, nearly landing directly on top of me, giggling and trying to tickle me.

              “Stop! Stop! I’m awake! I just… don’t want to be,” I sighed, sitting up in bed and batting Alice with a pillow gently. She was already dressed in her school uniform, her blonde hair tied back in two little buns.

              She cocked her head to the side and gave me a pitying look. “What’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

              “No. I wish I was. That would be easier to deal with,” I replied heavily, rubbing my temples. I leaned back against the headboard and pulled the covers up to my neck.

              Alice snuggled into the bed beside me and leaned her head on my shoulder. I was too distracted to even wince at the fact that her shoes were on the bed. She put an arm around me and asked genuinely, “Is it something to do with that guy you’ve been working with?”

              I nodded. “Yeah.”

              “Did he try anything else on you? Get fresh with you? I can totally stab him with my ice skates if you need me to. They’re really sharp,” she suggested, smiling.

              “Nah. I don’t wanna hurt him,” I said.

              Suddenly Alice leaned around to peer into my face, searching it for answers in the dim light of early morning. Her eyes got round and big and she gasped. “You
like
him, don’t you?”

              Oh God. She’d figured it out. Well, somewhat. I didn’t know if I really liked him so much as I liked fucking him. I loved feeling his muscular body hold me up, control me, pound into me like nobody ever had before…

              “I knew it! I knew this would happen!” Alice exclaimed, sounding a little angry. She hopped off the bed and flipped on the lamp, causing me to flinch at the sudden light. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently, pursing her lips at me. Uh oh.

              “What? What are you doing?” I said, feeling very self-conscious. I did not like being interrogated and judged by my fifteen-year-old sister.

              Alice threw up her hands in frustration. “This is just like before! With that guy in physical therapy school! That older guy with the weird hair who kept pestering you to date him. You didn’t even really like him, Gemma, and you went out with him anyway! Even though I could tell he was a bad guy, and I was only twelve!” she said, stomping her foot.

              I blushed, feeling like an idiot. When you spelled it all out like that, I did sound like a bumbling dumbass. But it was more complicated than she made it sound… wasn’t it? And this thing with Marc, that was different… wasn’t it?

              “That’s enough,” I mumbled, not in the mood to be scolded by this little girl.

              “No, it’ll never be enough. Gem, you can’t let these awful guys wiggle their way into your heart anymore, okay? I love you too much to watch you get hurt again. The way that older guy treated you… that was scary. I just don’t want that to happen again,” Alice said, her words tumbling out in a rush. She took a deep breath, and I could see that she wasn’t just nagging me to make me feel bad. She was truly worried about me. And that broke my heart a little. I was the adult here; I was supposed to worry about her, not the other way around.

              I got out of bed and hugged Alice close, holding her for a long moment. Finally she reciprocated and wrapped her arms around me, too. I could tell that she wanted to stay tough, to be the no-nonsense voice of reason she thought I needed. But in the end, she was just a kid-- a scared little kid.

              I felt horrible for bringing that kind of fear into her life. I was supposed to be setting a good example for her, not showing her what
not
to do. Some kind of role model I was.

              “I promise I’m not gonna let anyone hurt me like that again. And I’m sorry for freaking you out, Alice,” I told her solemnly. She pushed back and looked into my face, a smile finally appearing on her lips. She nodded her approval.

              “Okay. I don’t mean to be all tough love, but sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do, ya know?” she said, shrugging. I laughed and playfully shoved her away.

              “Uh-huh. Well, go finish up getting ready for school. You don’t wanna miss the bus.”

              “Hey, I’m not the one still in pyjamas!” she accused, poking her tongue out at me as she walked out the door down the hallway.

              She was right. I looked at the clock. I had less than forty-five minutes to get ready and get all the way to The Fighting Chance in time for my appointment with Marc. I sighed and reluctantly started getting dressed. I would have to forego a shower today, but whatever. Maybe if I didn’t smell as much like flowers and sunshine, he wouldn’t be so into me. That might make it easier to resist fucking him again, knowing that I wasn’t squeaky-clean and fresh.

              But deep down I knew that it wouldn’t matter if we both walked into that room covered in mud and smelling to high heaven - we would still want to jump each other’s bones.

              I ran a comb through my hair, put on a quick swipe of lip gloss and mascara, and headed out the door, waving goodbye to Alice as I went. She blew me a kiss and a salute, in typical silly Alice fashion. I had to be strong, for her sake as well as mine. Trina said it herself, Marc Montoya was bad news. I couldn’t afford to put my reputation and career on the line just for a hot lay with a MMA fighter. No matter how good it felt, how utterly
right
it seemed in the moment, it was still wrong for me to get involved with a patient like this. I’d have to put a stop to it before it got any further.

              So when I walked into The Fighting Chance exactly one minute late, I was already steeling myself for the awkwardness of the century. I wondered nervously how Marc would act when I came in. Would he be feeling the same regret I felt? Or even worse, what if he tried to sleep with me again?

              I gulped. God, I hoped I would be strong enough to turn him down, to resist temptation.

              But when I stepped into the physiotherapy room, he was seated on the bench along the wall, just staring at the floor. He looked more sombre than I’d ever seen him before. He was always brooding, always a little serious. But today the look on his handsome face was almost sorrowful. At the sound of my entrance, Marc glanced up at me.

              “Good morning,” I said, trying to strike a balance between chipper, but not too chipper. I needed to find a tone which indicated I was happy to be here, but not
that
kind of happy. I didn’t know how to return to normal. There had never really been a ‘normal’ between us, had there?

              “Hey,” he said shortly, standing up to his full height. As usual, I was stunned by his immense size. Immediately, my mind flashed back to the feeling of being pressed against that hard, powerful frame, his hands groping and caressing every inch of me…

             
Stop it, Gemma
, I told myself inwardly. I had to find a way to eradicate those thoughts from my mind. It was going to be impossible to get anything done, to continue the rest of our sessions together, if I spent the whole time fantasizing about his hard cock inside of me.

              “So, today I thought we’d start out with some simple stretches and work from there,” I began, forcing myself not to look him in the eye. I knew, somehow, that if I were to meet his smoldering gaze I would be lost for good. I couldn’t allow myself to sink any further into this mess than I already was. But God, with his body standing so close to me, all powerful sinew and muscle… all I wanted was to fall into his arms and let him do whatever he wanted with me.

              “Sure,” he grunted. A sideways glance at him told me that he was trying not to look at me, either. He was pointedly staring at the floor, the ceiling, the walls-- anywhere but at me. Despite the fact that this was probably for the best, I still couldn’t help feeling slightly hurt. After all, even though I knew logically that we could never be together again like we were last time, there was a part of me that longed for him to want me.

              Because being claimed by someone like Marc Montoya was intoxicating.

              So far, we’d managed to get three minutes into our appointment without so much as a lingering look. But now would come the hard part: I
had
to touch him.

              I turned slowly around and reached out to place my hand just above his hip. I made the mistake of looking up at him, and to my dismay he was looking at me, too.

              There was an unspoken exchange of desires between us in that tense moment. In the depths of his honey-brown eyes I could see what he wanted: to bend me over the bench and fuck me until we both collapsed. And I knew my own blue eyes betrayed the fact that I wanted the same thing, too. More than anything.

              Well, almost. I also wanted - no, needed - to make this career last. I needed to preserve my reputation and build my patient repertoire. I couldn’t let myself give into what my body desired at the cost of what my family required. Alice was my responsibility, and I could not allow myself to jeopardize our futures just because of some fling with Marc.

              But God, I wanted to. It wasn’t just my body that longed for him… it was my heart.

              It was only then that I realized something monumental had shifted in the past couple of weeks we’d been working together. He had softened somewhat, moulding to my shape and filling out the profile of a Prince Charming I didn’t even know I’d been searching for. He was both beast and man, a handsome and dangerous amalgam of what I wanted but what was
definitely
not good for me.

              “I-I just wanted to say…” I began awkwardly, not even sure where the sentence was going. But Marc shook his head.

              “No, I really need to…” he started, his own voice trailing off, too. Neither of us knew what to say, how to remedy the tension piling up between us. It was a stack of kindling, just ready and waiting to spark into an unstoppable blaze at any moment. But we had to put out the fire before it had a chance to burn. It was the only way.

              And if he couldn’t find the words to shut it down, then I would have to.

              “Marc,” I said softly, riveting my eyes to the floor. “If we want this to work out, then what happened last time… can never happen again.”

              “But-”

              I looked up at him, shaking my head even though my heart screamed at me to take it back, to kiss him again and again until oblivion took us over.

              “No. It was a one-time thing. I should never have let myself slip up like that. It was… it was terribly unprofessional and I’m sorry,” I concluded firmly. I wanted to cry. Every word was like tearing my heart into little pieces.

              But the Knight sisters do not cry, and my heart would only betray me.