Page 63 of The Wrong Move

Her body softens. Her legs sag, one sliding straight. Her rapid breaths slow.

I remove my fingers. With her orgasm coating each one, I writealways yourson her stomach, then proceed to suck each finger clean.

“What did you write?” she whispers.

“The truth.” I lean down and kiss her lips with all the gentleness I feel for this woman. “I need to get you off this floor.” I pull her to her feet, carry her to the bed, then lay Giana in the center and lie beside her. “Are you ready for more fun?”

Her long lashes flutter as she peers up at me. “Today, my body is all yours, Byron.”

My dick jumps to attention as all my fantasies of Giana flood back to my brain, but her sayingtodaymesses with my thoughts.

Frustration ripples over me, like in any situation where I have no control. It’s why everything around me is tidy, and routine is king.

I breathe out and count to four, trying to release the need to want her here with me and love her every single day. But Giana is not mine.

However, today,her bodyis mine.

Body, mind, and soul, I need all of Giana, not just the sex, and I need to prove it. If she needs time, then I’ll honor that. So I tear myself away and say the words before I regret it.

“Do you want to take that swim now and recharge? I’ll grab your favorite bottle of wine.”

Giana has been gonetwo days.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day reading the aviation notes for the week before spending three hours on flight practice. The buzz of being in the air distracted all thoughts of Giana and dickwad in Italy.

Today, I hit the courts at four thirty in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. Between trainings, I scrolled social media, searching Leto Designs’ and Giana’s accounts for any image of her.What the fuck is wrong with me?We’re now in between weight repetitions, and I have my cell in my hand, scrolling again.

“Byron?” Brandon points to the bench. “Want me to spot?”

I guzzle the energy drink and choke.

“Jesus.” Brandon jumps out of the way before spots of the orange liquid hit his prized Nike shoes.

“The fucker,” I murmur.

“Who?”

I turn my screen toward him. “Gigi’s ex.”

“Man, this is not like you. You have to trust her.”

“I do,” I grunt. “It’s him I don’t trust.” I stand from the bench and run a hand through my hair. “I should be there to protect her from this asshole.”

Brandon lays a hand on my shoulder. “Mate, Gigi is capable of looking after herself. I saw the two of you together. She’s not going to do anything stupid.” He takes his towel and wipes sweat from his brow, his blond curls still wet.

I don’t wanthimanywhere near her. And I don’t give two fucks if he is her boss’s nephew. I add extra weight to the bar.

Brandon makes a click sound in his throat. “Okay, here we go. I got you… I fucking hope because this is a lot, mate.” He stands with his hands under the bar, ready to assist. He counts each rep, and I only get to ten with the added weight. I pause to catch my breath.

“Go again,” he tells me. A vision of Dante with his arms around Giana and Isabella on a stage somewhere is stuck in my mind.

I do not want him touching her.

I groan with the final two reps before Brandon helps me steady the bar on the support beam. We finish with squats before we shower and head to a team meeting.

The meeting room is newly decorated and state-of-the-art. It’s one of the things Penny helped my father design. She acquired single leather chairs to accommodate all players and staff in rows like a movie theater. Each chair is like a professional gaming chair in soft gray leather, designed for comfort while watching videos of our opponents or meetings and professional speakers.

I lean back in the chair, and it tilts enough to relax my mind. I close my eyes and imagine Giana’s smiling face as she receives the admiration she deserves, except I want to be there to share in it with her. It’s the first time I don’t want to be at a basketballarena, doing what I’m told. My eyes fling open at the sound of Coach’s voice.

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