Loved by the Linebacker (3 page)

Chapter 4

Evan

Valentine’s
Day, the worst day of the year. Sure, now I can get any woman I want, but
before I was drafted, ladies never gave me the time of day. Without the fame,
I’m just an awkward giant that no woman wants to mess with. So yeah,
Valentine’s Day isn’t my most favorite of days since I’ve typically spent it
alone.

Part
of being a goliath means that I’m also hung like a horse and most women have no
idea what to do with me. My high school girlfriend can attest to the fact that
she had no clue what to do with something that big, although we figured it out…once
and then she was scared off. Luckily, the women that chase after me now know
what to expect and are obviously experienced with what they do.

I
pop the top on my beer and sink into my couch. Well, Blake’s couch I should
say. He may not be the boss of me, but I am his roommate. Since we both play
for the Seawolves and my contract is only a year, I didn’t want to put down my
roots until I know I’m staying permanently.

Almost
a year in San Diego and I’m loving this town. Of course, anything is better
than the podunk, two-stop sign town we grew up in. Here in California, I love
the weather, the women, and my teammates aren’t too bad either. I’d never admit
it to him, but I actually like having Blake on my team. Back in high school, we
only played a couple years together. We work much better on the field as
teammates than we do as brothers.

Hmm,
I wonder what Blake’s doing tonight. Probably Camila.
I laugh out loud at my own joke then
pick up my phone and dial his number. It rings a couple times before he picks
up.

“What’s
up, Ev?”

“Hey,
man. What’re you doing tonight?” I guzzle down my beer.

“It’s
Valentine’s Day, I’ve got a date,” he answers as though I should’ve known.
However, my brother and I rarely talk about football much less discuss our
dating lives. Honestly, other than Camila, I’ve never even seen another woman
around him so really, how am I supposed to know he has a date.

“Sorry,
man. I’ll catch ya later,” I say and hang up.

Romantic
music plays from the television and I flip it off. Standing up, I walk to the
window and finish off my beer. Blake’s house sits on ten acres, but I can still
make out the neighbor’s house in the dark of the night. A light flips on in the
upper left corner and I can see two figures.
Someone’s about to get lucky
…

Not
wanting to be a perv, I head to the kitchen to grab another beer. As I do, I
pause when I open the refrigerator door. Staring back at me in a picture are
Camila’s chocolate eyes, her long hair pulled into a messy bun while she smiles
back at the camera. She’s wearing just a bikini and sitting at a bar with the
beach in the background. I pluck the picture from the magnet for closer
inspection. Not that I’ve seen her smile often, but her eyes crinkle when she
does and the smile in this picture is genuine, you can tell it’s not posed,
she’s actually laughing.

Good
god, I want to see that in person. This woman is gorgeous, and not just in the
‘I want to add her to my list and move on with her’ way. I mean there’s
something behind that hard shell of hers and the “I don’t sleep with clients”
persona she presents. My phone buzzes with a text, breaking me from my train of
thought.

Should
I book your flight to Colorado for Combine?

Speak
of the She-Devil and she shall text. At least I know she’s alone on
Valentine’s, but I can’t reply right away or she’ll figure I am, too. Opening
the fridge, I grab another beer and take a long swig. Another weekend with
Camila Lemos could mean disaster, but taking another look at the laughing lady
in the picture, I push that thought aside and text back asking when our flight
leaves.

I
toss the phone on the counter and start to make my way back to the couch when I
notice the tent I’m sporting in my shorts.
Fuck woman
,
you’re not
even here and you have this effect on me
. Screw it, I’m not spending
another Valentine’s Day alone. There’s plenty of single women in San Diego that
will be looking for a man tonight and I’m sure I can find one that’ll entertain
me for the evening.

Camila

The
sweet scent of pineapple fills the air as I sink into my bubble bath. In one
hand, I hold a glass of Merlot and in the other, a Twinkie. It’s the only
Valentine’s date I can get since Gregg ended up leaving early for spring
training. I take a bite of the cream-filled sponge cake and wash it down with
the wine.
Perfection!
Twinkies and wine are my all-time favorite
indulgence.

Closing
my eyes, I lean my head back against the smooth tub. With spring training
around the corner and NFL contracts next month, this is probably the only night
I’ll have off for awhile. However, I was really looking forward to spending
some time with Gregg. I haven’t seen him since New Year’s and a girl has needs that
she just can’t take care of herself. Maybe Colie’s right and I should find
someone more local.
Someone like Evan Purser?
As soon as that thought
crosses my mind, I quickly flick my eyes open, trying to forget it, but I
can’t. It lingers like a catchy song on the radio that you can’t get out of
your head.

What
is it with the Purser men that always captivates me? With Blake, it’s his
loyalty and commitment. Not only was he my first client, but when he had the
option to jump ship to a more well-known sports agent, he refused. He’s stuck
by my side since the day we met in college and as much as I sing his praises,
he does the same for me. Any woman would be lucky to have Blake.

But
Evan, he’s a childish, cocky rookie who honestly believes his career revolves
around playing football. If only it were that simple then I’d be out of a job.
It was Blake that insisted he sign with me although Evan balked at the idea.
Evan still thinks like a man from the fifties era where women belong in the
kitchen, not working beside men. He’s exactly the opposite of Blake and nothing
about his personality is attractive, so why can I not stop thinking about him?

Sighing,
I know exactly why. Because he’s my type—strong, fearless, dominant.  As much
as I would love to let my guard down, there’s no way I will ever give in to
Evan Purser. On the outside and to the sports world, I am those exact things I
love in a man—strong, fearless, dominant, but I can never let anyone,
especially Evan, know that I prefer to let someone take control of me. That I
want to be pampered and coddled by a man. That I wish I could find a man who
would take care of everything, everywhere.

I
slide under the bubbles, letting the water consume me and trying to erase my
thoughts. Only once have I ever slipped up and been intimate with a client.
Never again will it happen. Even though I’ve been in the field for four years,
I still have to prove myself day in and day out to all the men in my
profession. Sleeping around is a sure way to lose everything I’ve worked so
hard for.

Even
with the water covering my ears, I can hear my phone beep with an incoming text
message. Reaching my hand out of the water, I tap my fingers on the towel,
drying them off. Then I feel along the edge until I find my phone and pick it
up. Thumbing through until I open my text messages, I see the new one that has
just appeared from D.J., one of the bouncers that works at a few clubs around
town.

One
of your boys is having some fun at Project Chaos

Sitting
up, I quickly text back and ask him who. D.J. doesn’t necessarily work for me,
but he keeps his eyes and ears open and lets me know any information floating
around about my players. When he replies back, I guzzle the rest of my wine and
make a call to my car service. Looks like I won’t be alone on Valentine’s Day
anymore… and I also won’t be escaping Evan Purser.

Chapter 5

Evan

The
walls are bumping from the bass of the music, the lights are shining in every
direction, and the place is packed from wall to wall. Sitting in the dark corner
of the club, I’m laid back and enjoying the scene in front of me—a cute
brunette coed between my legs. It was her idea and I wasn’t about to stop her.
The bouncer in the corner is sending death stares across the room but I don’t
see anyone else complaining.

The
whiskey in my glass is chilled from the ice, but it’s a nice slow burn as it
slides down my throat. Patting the back of the brunette’s head, I grin knowing
she’s about to experience the same thing. I close my eyes and bounce my head
with the music, enjoying the warmth of her mouth around my manhood.
I may
become a fan of Valentine’s Day after all.

Abruptly,
my new friend stops what she’s doing. When I open my eyes, Camila Lemos is
pulling her up by her hair. “Don’t let this be your fifteen minutes of fame,
sweetie,” Camila tells her and guides her away from the booth.

Tucking
myself back in my pants as I stand up, I object, “What the hell, Cami? I don’t
barge in and interrupt you and Blake.”

Unlike
the other girls in the club who have obviously spent hours getting ready,
Camila’s messy bun and simple make-up achieve a sexy, natural look and she’s
commanding the attention from almost every guy in the club. Camila looks hot in
the black leather pants and metallic gold t-shirt she’s wearing. Her heels only
set her a few inches shorter than me and the scoop neck of her shirt gives me
plenty of cleavage to enjoy.

She
rolls her eyes, leaning over and taking a long drink of my whiskey. When she
sets the drink back down, she looks up at me. “It’s Camila, you’d never barge
in on Blake and me since we are just friends, and what the hell are you doing
in L.A.?”

I
grin, knowing how much she hates when I call her Cami. Honestly, I made the
two-hour trip to L.A. in hopes of running into her, but I’m not going to tell
her that. “No good chicks in San Diego tonight. Figured I’d drive here and find
one to pull an all-nighter with.”

“Keep
this shit up and you won’t be getting any contract offers. No team wants a
player on their team that’s been arrested for lewd conduct,” she says and turns
away from the table.

“Lewd
conduct? Since when is a guy getting head lewd conduct?” I ask, walking after
her.

She
stops quickly and turns to me. She braces herself or else I would have stomped
right over her. Both her hands on my chest, she tries to give me a shove to put
some space between us, but her small stature is nothing compared to mine. “You
can get all the head you want, from whomever you want, just not in public.” She
continues walking toward the exit and I follow.

“Where
are you going?” I ask as we stand outside and she shivers from the cold air. I
reach over, placing my large hands over her arms and rubbing them.

“Back
to my place and you’re coming with me,” she states, her teeth chattering as she
does.

I
cock my head to the side and grin. “Gonna finish what Kari started in there?”

A
car pulls up to the sidewalk and a driver gets out, rushing to our side to open
the door. Camila pulls away from me, rolling her eyes and pushing me inside.

“You
wish,” she mutters. I crawl into the back of the town car and when I look out,
I see her slipping money to the bouncer that was staring me down.
So, that’s
how she found me…
not that I’m complaining
.

Camila
climbs in beside me and the driver takes off. There’s plenty of room for both
of us in the backseat, even with my size, but I don’t scoot over. Instead, I
move my arm around her shoulders and stay in the middle seat. That floral
perfume she wore in Arizona tantalizes me again, but when I start to lean in to
make a move, I stop. Blake’s words come to mind—
don’t fuck with her, show
her respect.
He’s my big brother and while we definitely don’t see eye to
eye on most things, I know it’s not cool to make a move on his woman.
But
they both deny that they’re together, so maybe it’s alright…

I
lean back, letting my hand drape over her shoulder and my fingers play with her
necklace. She doesn’t even acknowledge me as she checks her email on her phone.
I clear my throat and she finally looks in my direction.

“So,
honestly, are you screwing my brother?”

Camila
throws up her hands. “Why does everyone think that? Blake and I are
just
friends.”

I
smile at her reaction. It’s the first time I’ve seen her show any kind of
frustration. I move my hand so that my thumb and index finger can massage her
shoulder. “You and Blake are inseparably, attached at the hip. He’s your date
to every dinner, gala, and everything in between. You’re in the first row at
every game, and I know it’s not for me, so it’s more than obvious why everyone
would think you two are an item.”

Camila
tilts her head back against the seat, the stray hairs from her bun tickling my
arm as she does. She lets out a long sigh and rubs her forehead. “Except that
we’re not an item. We’re friends, just friends.”

I
nod, still moving my hand against her shoulder. My other hand pats her thigh.
“No one buys that crap. You’re both young, good looking people, so why aren’t
you two dating or at least dating other people?”

Slowly,
she turns to look me in the eyes. Instead of the happiness in her eyes like in
the photo on Blake’s fridge, all I see is exhaustion.
Fuck, I’m not her only
client.
She probably never has time to date anyone. Even if she wanted to,
especially if she has to chase after them all like tonight. Of course, tonight
I was crying for her attention.

“Honestly?
For Blake, he prefers his privacy, as do I. So when we take each other as dates
to events, it’s because we don’t want people invading our personal lives. I’ll
say it one more time and then I’m done. Blake and I are not dating or anything
else for that matter.”

The
car pulls through a high walled and gated estate. It comes to a stop and I look
out the window. Ahead of me is a house similar to Blake’s and the majority of
other houses in California, big and expensive. Camila steps out of the car and
walks to the front door, punching a code on the keypad and turning to see if
I’m behind her. Quickly, I jump out of the car and follow her inside.

Taking
a look around, I note that Camila’s house isn’t styled much differently than
Blake’s, but then again, I’m sure she decorated both places. It’s an open floor
plan so you can see almost every room from the foyer. The house is bathed in
colors of white, tan, and gold, nothing too personal at first glance.

The
click of Camila’s heels stop and I look in the direction of where the noise was
coming from. She stands on the third step of the staircase, pointing down the
hall. “Guest room is off of the living room. You’ll find everything you need in
the bathroom or the closet.”

Without
waiting for me to respond, she turns and continues up the stairs. I watch her
hips sway and the movement in my pants reminds me that the brunette never
finished what she started back at the club. Before Camila is out of sight, I
call to her. “Night, Cami. Sweet dreams.”

She
hesitates, but doesn’t respond to my pet name. I grin as I make my way to the
guest room. I may not have scored on Valentine’s Day, but straight from her
mouth, she confirmed that she’s not dating my brother, which means she’s fair
game.

The
guest room doesn’t give me much insight of what kind of woman Camila Lemos is.
Much like the rest of the house, there’s no pictures of her or any clue to what
her interests may be. I tug off my shirt and pants then take a seat on the
guest bed. Curiosity gets the best of me so I open the drawer to the nightstand
and
bingo!
A blindfold, handcuffs, and a picture of Camila wearing a
bikini greet me. It’s a simple, teal, string bikini, but it clings to her body,
showcasing every curve the woman has. My cock stirs under my boxers and I pull
it out. I might not be in bed with her, but I can still enjoy her tonight.

Camila

Staring
at the clock I can’t take it anymore. It was after two when Evan and I got back
from the club and I’ve seen every hour on the clock since I laid down. It’s
barely daylight but I can’t stand just lying here in bed, especially with Evan
Purser in my downstairs bedroom.

The
ride back to my house last night was the longest ride across town I’ve ever
experienced. Evan was right on top of me, well, not exactly how I’d like him to
be on top of me—
Camila, stop!

His
cologne reminded me of what the jocks wore in high school. I can’t remember the
name, but it was strong and musky with just a hint of oranges and maybe green
apples. Although he was drinking off a $200 bottle of malt Scotch whiskey, he
wore department store jeans and a plain white button-up shirt. Evan obviously
likes to indulge in expensive alcohol and women, but judging from his
appearance and his living arrangement, he hasn’t fully submerged into the world
of being a million dollar athlete. This is good because it means that not
everything
is about the money and hopefully, he’s still in it for the game. Once a
player crosses over and lets money rule, he’s a lost cause, which is one of the
many reasons I usually only represent seasoned athletes.

Throwing
back the sheet, I walk downstairs to the kitchen in my navy and floral print
yoga pants and a plain white V-neck t-shirt with nothing underneath. I’m sure
Evan won’t be awake for awhile so I can enjoy a cup of coffee, take a shower,
even catch up on some work before I have to figure out how to get him back to
San Diego.

A
few minutes later, I’m inhaling the rich aroma of my coffee. I don’t
necessarily enjoy the bitterness or the earthy taste of the Brazilian roast
that I brew daily, but it’s a small part of my day that reminds me of home.
While I was born and raised in the States, my parents, originally from Brazil,
kept their native culture alive in our house.

Both
of my parents passed away while I was in college, right before I met Blake,
which is another reason our relationship is so strong. The Purser brothers
don’t have much of a home life either, it being just the two of them and their
alcoholic mother. Blake hated going home and when we founded our friendship, he
used my lack of family as an excuse to stay with me on holidays. Blake and I
have a complicated relationship that obviously no one understands, but long
story short, we’re family.

Deep
in my thoughts, I barely hear the grumbling behind me. Startled, I spin around
and am staring at a six-foot-plus linebacker in only his boxers. Evan Purser
may be almost three-hundred pounds but there is no fat on this man. No, there’s
only muscle after muscle, flexing and rolling as he twists his body.

Get
it together, Camila
.
I’ve seen linebackers, quarterbacks, fullbacks, halfbacks, every athlete in the
world of professional sports like this before. Evan Purser is no different than
any of them. Except for the fact that I can feel myself being turned on right
now. I look down into my cup of coffee, only to see my nipples peaked and at
full attention. Glancing back up, Evan is standing almost directly in front of
me.

“What
are you doing up so early?”

Evan
grins and leans forward, kissing my cheek. My stomach flutters and I can feel
my face flush.

“Well,
good morning to you, too, sunshine,” he says with a smirk.

I
roll my eyes. “Are you a coffee drinker?”

He
shakes his head, turning up his nose. “Keep that shit away from me. I could really
go for some water.”

Perfect
escape
. I slip by him
and open the refrigerator door. I make small talk about the flight plans to
Combine. Why I even invited him, I have no idea. Oh, right, because I’m a
professional and Evan needs my help to get the contract he wants.

I
bend over to grab a bottle of water on the bottom shelf when I feel his body
against mine. His morning wood presses against my yoga pants, that and his
boxers are the only barrier between our skin. His semi-erection is the size of
most men’s regular hard on. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m getting
wetter by the second.