Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) (16 page)

I came so hard it left my ears ringing.

Jordan was still moving, still stroking me so hard that I couldn’t even catch my breath. I went light-headed, tipsy off the waves of orgasm as they crashed into me, lapped over me, drowned me and brought me back.

My fingernails dug into his skin as he lost control. He released my ankles, and buried one hand in my hair, used the other to grip my ass. He buried his face against my neck, practically growling as he came, with his dick still buried deep in me.

He collapsed against me, chest to chest. The heaviness of his weight was comforting. Neither of us moved. Neither of us said anything. I forced myself not to think of the implications or complications of what had passed between me and Jordan tonight. I didn’t try to analyze it, or figure it out. I was exhausted, and I was…
happy.

For the moment, I was content to let that be.

Twelve.

Too good to be true.

Had to be, right?

To have Nicki on top of me again, moaning and panting for breath as she rode me, felt like something out of my fantasies.

Despite the sensation of her clenching around me, hot and slick, nothing between us. Despite her hand covering one of mine as it kneaded and caressed her breast. Despite the visual of her throwing her head back in pleasure as my fingers played in her beautiful wetness. Despite the blissful glow of her deep brown skin, completely nude for my eyes….

It felt unreal.

It wasn’t that this side of her was unfamiliar to me – it’s that it was
so
familiar. I was very, very well acquainted.  Similar scenes were embedded in my memories. I taught her how to do this, how to make it as good for herself as it was for me. Positive words, patience, laughter, and more orgasms than college kids probably had any business having. Those were my tools to bring out the confidence, sensuality, and skill she’d apparently never lost.

I just never thought I would reap the benefits again.

Her rhythm shifted. Eyes closed, legs began to tremble as she lost control. I brought my hands to her hips, keeping her still as I stroked up. She clenched her eyes shut tighter as she collapsed forward, hands on the bed, moaning and whimpering her way through an orgasm.

I kept her close until we were both finished. At some point, she’d buried her face in my neck, and I could feel the soft inhale-exhale of her breath as we laid there in silence. I ran a hand up her back until I reached her hair, dragging my fingers through the sweat-dampened strands.

“I can feel you thinking about this shit too hard,” I murmured, then angled to press my lips to her forehead.

I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything when she pulled herself up, tugging the sheet around her body to cover up. “It’s not as if this is something we can just ignore.”

“Did I suggest that?”

Her eyes came to mine, then just as quickly moved away as she shrugged. “You’re saying I’m thinking about it too hard.”

“Right,” I said, sitting up as she scooted to the other side of the bed. “Thinking about it, stressing yourself out, coming up with bullshit fatalistic scenarios isn’t going to help either of us. Maybe we should
talk
about it.”

She shook her head, and wrapped the sheet tighter as she grabbed her phone and started pecking away at the buttons. “Not happening right now. We don’t have time.”

“
We don’t have time?
” I sucked my teeth. “That’s the excuse you’re going with?”

“You kicked somebody’s ass on live TV and got arrested last night, remember?” She held up the phone. “We have a plane to get on in less than an hour, and a press conference as soon as we get off. Chloe and Margo will be waiting.”

I blew out a sigh. That shit with Bobby Samuels had been the furthest thing from my mind since I walked into this hotel room. “So I can leave the state?”

She nodded, then turned back to her phone. “Yep. Charges were dropped. Mostly because they were bullshit to begin with – players don’t get arrested for fighting after games. The police officers were pissed that we won, pissed that you went after their star player, so they pulled their weight. So…” she sniffed, “Eli pulled his. Called the commissioner. I don’t know all the details after that, but long story short…. Yes. You can go home.”

“Good. But what else? What’s happening? Do I have a fine, am I getting suspended, or…?”

“Don’t know yet. Eli hasn’t gotten back in touch with me, but I’m sure we’ll know before the press conference. Whatever happens though, you’ll be okay. Punching a guy for saying something gross about his baby sister is far from the worst thing a football player has ever done.”

For about two seconds, I was happy that she was finally showing some warmth, after she’d flipped her emotional switch post-sex. But then I remembered – this was her job
.
Reassurance was a requirement in “player success.”

“Your investment in whatever happens with this today… professional or personal?”

Maybe that was a masochistic question to ask – especially with the way her eyes widened about it – but I wanted to know.

She averted her gaze, looking down at the screen of her phone as she spoke. “Professional.”

I let out a dry chuckle and pushed back the covers she’d left me with, not really caring about nudity as I moved to stand up. “How did I already know the answer to that?”

“It’s
not
that I don’t care,” she explained, sitting up on her knees to meet my eyes. “But this is
hard
,” she whispered, her voice cracking over the last word.

With the full light of morning shining into the room, I was reminded how little she’d changed from when we first met. Obviously we’d gotten older – she’d grown up. Was a
grown ass
woman now. But seeing her like this – no makeup, hair a mess, nothing on, reminded me of the girl I knew in college.

I’d had to drag emotion out of
her
too.

“Come here.”

I moved to the edge of the bed, waiting for her. She only hesitated for a few seconds before she did as I asked. When she reached me, I cupped her face in my hands.

“We
will
talk about this… Cole.” – if I was asking her to make herself uncomfortable for me, the least I could do was call her what she wanted to be called. “Not up for negotiation.”

“Okay.”

“I’m
serious
,” I said, meeting her eyes. They were the first thing I’d ever noticed about her – big, warm, expressive brown eyes, that seemed so innocent at the time. Magnets.

She nodded. “So am I. I promise.”

I lifted an eyebrow, stepping closer to draw her against me. “Wow.
You
promise to talk?”

“You don’t have to sound
that
surprised,” she scolded. “I said I would talk, and I mean it. Later.”

“Are you kicking me out of your room?”

She smiled.

“Yes. We have to get on that plane, remember?”

“I would have punched his ass too.”

I chuckled at my sister’s angry words as they blared from the speaker on my phone. They echoed through the bathroom, providing background noise for my preparations. It was time to face the music – or rather, the press – after my altercation with Samuels the night before.

Because I hadn’t been fully briefed yet on what was happening, I was avoiding social media and dodging phone calls.
Most
phone calls, that was. One of the very few people I was cool with talking to right now was my sister.

“Seriously,” she continued, as I moved into the bedroom, taking the phone with me. “As if I’d ever,
ever
let a man like him do such a thing to me. He dresses like a math teacher off the field, and has he seen somebody about those teeth? Looks like a yuck-bomb went off in his mouth. I thought money was supposed to make you look
better
.”

She went on and on about the ills of Bobby Samuels, sprinkling other random nuggets of information into her rant as I dressed in the suit Nicki had brought from Connecticut for me. According to Jess, a poll on SportsOne network said my punch was “justified”, per the over four million people who’d voted. Bobby had been “memed” and mocked all over social media, and a video of the fight, set to
I Ain’t Neva Scared
had gone viral. Sports anchors and news people were divided nearly right down the middle, one side in condemnation, the other side in support of me.

“Anyway though, how are you?” Jess asked, real concern filling her voice. “My phone has been going nuts, with people asking for a comment and all of that. It has to be like ten times worse for you.

I shrugged, unable to help myself from grinning in the mirror as I adjusted my tie. “I’m not really worried about this shit, baby girl.”

And that was true. If history was any indication, I would have to pay a fine, and
maybe
face a suspension. I was way too giddy about what had transpired between me and Nicki to let either of those options bring me down. I’d punched Samuels, I wasn’t sorry, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I owned my actions, and I’d take my licks for them if I had to, but I was ready  - anxious, really – to get into the next thing.

“Have you talked to Daddy?”

Shit.

Now
that
would bring down my mood.

“Nah,” I answered, leaving out the fact that he’d left a voicemail I didn’t bother listening to. I just deleted the shit, instead of giving him the satisfaction of direct access to criticize me.

A knock on the door pulled my attention away from the phone.

“Jordan, are you ready?” Nicki’s voice was clear, and strong, carrying no evidence that we’d been up until the early hours of the morning, then gotten up to get at each other again.

“Is that Cole?” Jess asked, sounding a little too interested. “I thought you said you were in your hotel room?”

“I am in my hotel room,” I told Jess, then yelled, “Almost!” out to Nicki.

“Are you in the room
with
her?!”

Shit.

Jess was adding a little too excited to her little too interested.

“Chill, please.”

“
Oh my God, so you’re getting back together
?!”

I shook my head as I slipped my feet into my shoes. “Again, chill. I didn’t say all that.”

“But your lack of answer implies it. What took you so long? Cole is fine, successful, she dresses her ass off –
oooh
, does she need an outfit for anything?! A
Jessmyn Johnson
original would totally magnify her flyness. Like, flyness squared. Like, flyness on a whole ‘nother—”

“Bye Jess.”

“
Wait!
Does she have a dress for the Kings’ “Royal Ball” event at the end of the month yet?!”

“
Bye Jess
,” I repeated, picking the phone up from where I’d left it on the bed.

“Seriously, wait!”

My finger hovered over the button to end the call. “What is it baby girl? I’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Thank you for defending my honor like that. I hope you don’t get in too much trouble.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll be fine.”

She sighed into the phone. “Yeah, but still. Thank you. And one more thing…”

“Yeah?”

“
Cole and Jordan, sitting in the tree. K-I-S-S-I—
”

I laughed as I pressed the button to disconnect the call, then slipped the phone into my pocket. I found Nicki standing frozen in the living room, nothing moving except her fingers over the screen of her cell phone. She looked polished, in her slim gray pants, crisp white shirt, and blazer. Her hair was down, but pinned to one side so that it covered the marks I’d left on her neck. Big difference from how she’d looked when I left her room in the suite.

She must have felt me watching her, because she looked up, and her eyes went wide. Her gaze raked over me, and she sucked in a breath before she shook her head, running her fingers through her hair as she moved into the kitchen.