Page 7 of The Maid

If things went according to plan, she'd impress the director of the PCPP, Alex Kellerman, and have a full-time permanent position in their program. A program adopted by the NFL to educate players. It focused on the importance of financial awareness and preparation for life after football as well as helping the players have a positive media image in order to assist them in getting endorsements that'll last well past retirement. This was a dream job and the culmination of having worked so hard for so many years. What she hadn’t expected was that the first player to be assigned to her would be Gunther McCall.

What in the fuck was Addie doing in his apartment?

At first he'd thought he'd dreamed it or was so drunk he was hallucinating. But then she spoke, that raspy tone in her voice that he remembered so well. Too well, actually. His thoughts immediately drifted to a time where they had snuck off in his Corvette and parked in the Everglades where no one could see them. He'd loved when she sucked him off, her full lips wrapped around his cock as she hummed in her sexy voice, the vibrations shooting straight to his spine. Just thinking about it made him hard.

Gun towel- dried his hair, slipped on some gym shorts and a T-shirt, and headed back out, feeling a little less green but a lot more anxious. "What the fuck, man? You can't just burst into my house whenever you want," he said to Jeff.

His agent and best friend was on the phone, and eyed him for a moment, then looked away and continued to talk——completely ignoring Gun. That was Jeff. All business, all the time. He didn't give a shit what Gun wanted or needed. Okay, that wasn't completely true, the man's entire life revolved around what he thought was best for Gun's career but sometimes getting pissed drunk on a Tuesday night and sleeping it off until three in the afternoon the next day was what he needed. Of course, Jeff wouldn't see it that way.

Following the smell of coffee, Gun poured himself a cup and went in search of Addie. He looked around the room, her flowery scent still lingering. Trying to tune out all the yelling coming from Jeff, he called out, "Hello?" and then Jeff covered the phone and pointed, "Outside."

A mess of red waves hung from the back of a lounge chair.

Taking a deep, calming breathe, Gun opened the sliding door and closed it behind him, causing her to jump up and sit straighter. "Usually this place is relaxing," he said, motioning to the ocean.

"Oh, it's so relaxing," she exhaled loudly, in that voice that did things to him. Things he couldn't believe he still felt after so many years. "It's just...wow," she said, with her eyes closed, her hair moving softly with the wind.

"So this is you," he pointed at her general area, "relaxed?"

She looked down at her lap, one hand holding a mug and the other resting on the lounge, and then back up at him. "Yes, why?"

"I've never seen someone quite so tense when they relax," he said, gruffly. "But I guess you never really were the relaxing-type."

"It's the skirt. It's not meant to look relaxed."

“You look great, Addie,” he said.

"Addie." She repeated his word out loud. "It's been a long time since anyone called me that."

He really studied her for the first time since she'd walked into his apartment. She looked the part of a tight-ass, ball-busting tyrant. But, Addie, whose hair moved softly with the breeze, whose pink lips curled up at the ends, whose gravelly voice still lulled him in a way nothing else ever had, wasn't fooling him for one second. This was just a facade.

He shook his head side to side feeling a little disoriented. "Why are you here?"

"I'm Kellerman's newest team member. I'm here to help get your finances under control as well as your social well-being. Mario was transferred elsewhere, and I was assigned to you since you signed up for PCPP."

"Finances? Social well-being?" Then it hit him. He set his mug down, a little more forcefully then necessary and stood up. "You. You canceled my cards? Has Wayne made you my...handler?" He asked, with a sour face. Wayne Dillard was the owner of the Miami Tornados and he was, in essence, Gunther's boss.

When he'd known Addie, and he had known her very intimately, she had been thin, mostly, with some curves but they weren't as pronounced as they were now. Age had been good to her and her body had changed in a good way. A great way. She'd filled in nicely and from where he stood, he could see the swells of her breasts. Those perfectly plump, perfectly enticing breasts. Breasts which were making him forget his righteous indignation.

She set her mug down and tried to stand but fumbled back because of her tight skirt. She groaned, grabbed his forearm and used him for support to help herself up. "I did not cancel your credit cards," she said, her arms now crossed over her chest, causing those enticing globes to push up higher. "My eyes are here, Mr. McCall," she said, with a scowl that surprised him.

"Mr. McCall?"

She took a step closer to him and pointed a finger at him. "Yes, you're my client. This is a professional meeting. Do you go around yelling and huffing at meetings or is that just because we've met before?"

Now he was really upset. The woman had been responsible for him barely having enough money to get a taxi to drive him home last night. He didn't even know if he could afford lunch right now. He grabbed her finger, roughly, and pulled her forward, causing her to stumble against him. "Met before?" he asked against her ear, anger radiating off of him. "I've tasted you, Addie. I've licked every fucking square inch of that body. Let's not pretend there's a casual history between us. I've more than just met you. You've fucking come on my mouth." He could feel her chest rise and fall against his and at that moment all those years apart became insignificant. He wanted Addie and he wanted her right the fuck now. Because some things in life never changed, it seemed.

Instead, she pulled her finger from his grip and pushed herself back. "You'll not talk to me like that again, Gunther. You understand? I'm here on business. You've slept with countless women since we were together, you're bound to come across one on business one day. I'm no different than any of them."

But she was wrong. She was so very wrong. She was different. She was the woman he compared all other women too. She was the reason he'd never been in a serious relationship again. If he was being honest with himself, she was his one and only regret. He should never have left her all those years ago, and now that she was standing in front of him again all those memories rushed back in.

"This job is important to me and it should be important to you. Grow up, McCall!" She looked angry but the red flush on her milky white skin betrayed her. She was nervous and her flushed skin was her tell. Always had been. Nevertheless, she was angry at him for other reasons than his eyes drifting south.

"Why the hell are you so mad at me?"

"I'm not mad."

"Please, Addie. You came here with a chip on your shoulder and I don't understand why. Last we saw of each other, we kissed and hugged and said goodbye. We were fine."

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