Page 19 of The Long Game

I laugh. "I don’t think that’s the way this works."

"Oh yeah?" she say as she slowly glides a hand on my thigh and leans in. "How does this work?"

I signal over the bartender and he takes her order. I still had a beer I was nursing.

She’s handsy and beautiful, in the "groupie" sense. The kind of girl perfect for all things above the waist but after the sacks I received today, the only thing I plan to take home with me is a bucket of ice from the bartender to fill my bathtub.

I don’t sleep with groupies. Not anymore. Not since the end of my first year in the NFL when one of our linebackers got a woman pregnant who was looking for a payday.

Most women looking to sleep with a pro sports player are usually only looking for bragging rights. Harmless, but there’s a few gold diggers out there among the pack. And since you can’t tell the difference between the two, it’s better to keep it above the waist if you’re going to play Russian Roulette.

TJ Holloway once told me that he thought Sadie had gotten pregnant on purpose his first year in the NFL.

She was a one-time hook-up that he thought had pulled a fast one on him since he had just turned pro-baller with a hefty signing salary. It’s hard to imagine him almost missing out on a life with Sadie and their three kids.

I keep to the professional types; women in the media, sports therapy, team reps…any beautiful woman not associated with my team logo, of course. This industry is full of them. A player doesn’t have to go bar diving to find one. You do have to work harder to snag one, though. These women are used to being hit on by males with big egos. Best part, they’re usually discreet and not looking to get a reputation for being easy with male athletes.They’re sure as hell not looking to get knocked up on purpose to snag a multi-million-dollar baby-daddy.

I don’t drink much during the season. Neither do most of the guys. Otherwise, we pay for it later. Playoff wins, though, not only deserve a few beers—they demand it. Practices will become much more grueling and the pressure on our shoulders will get heavier, so knowing when to stop is crucial.

After sitting down with Allie, the blonde, for a couple of beers, she’s warming up and her body language is telling me a lot of things.

Before I know it, her hips are positioned in-between my thighs as I sit on the bar stool. Her large breasts are rubbing against me when she intentionally laughs. Both of her hands are rubbing my thighs, barely inches from my cock.

She leans in to whisper some explicit things she wants to do to me back at her hotel, which is conveniently walking distance from the bar. I am not intending on going back with her but the confidence boost doesn’t hurt.

She leans in and kisses me. Greedy, desperate, and uninhibited lips are pulling and pushing on me. It feels good to have a sexy little thing in my lap for a few hours. Helps you to forget about the woman who doesn’t want you anymore.

Instead of heading back to Allie’s, I’ll be headed to my hotel for that ice bath I’m not looking forward to.

I don’t care how many ice baths I’ve taken in my career; they never get easier. With undoubtedly a massive bone bruise on my rib cage and bruises on both hips from the beating I got today, I’m going to need the soak if I am going to have any chance of not looking like a broken-down pussy for reels on Monday morning.

My tongue is tucked deep in Allie’s giving mouth, but I can’t help but notice something in the corner of my eye. Luca has walked in. His wife Brielle and…fuck! Lexi Benson.

My heart ticks up a notch at the sight of her, but disappointment hits when she spots me in my current predicament.

Why the fuck didn’t she tell me she was planning to come? Had she planned this before or after my text.

I pull my mouth off Allie’s, which is no easy feat. She isn’t letting go without a fight. I position my hands to slowly push her hips out from between my legs. It’s too little too late based on the look already on Lexi’s face. She's already seen the display and is less than pleased. Probably thinking, "I was right about you, asshole".

"Where are you going?" Allie asks in confusion.

"I gotta go, sorry."

I don’t give her a second glance as I move away from the barstool and into the crowd.

I attempt to wipe my face of the lip gloss and saliva still lingering from Allie’s kiss. But Lexi has already turned back around and is out the door of the bar. My stride picks up to try and catch her before she gets in a cab.

Luca grabs my arm. "Let her go."

"Don’t fucking start with me right now."

Brielle is seven months pregnant and has had a couple small scares; I know Luca won’t make a scene that could cause her any panic. He lets go and I’m back on my mission.

I make it out the door to see Lexi trying to hail a cab. She spots me coming out of the bar and changes course realizing she isn’t going to make it into a cab before I can get to her.

"Lexi, wait!"

She starts walking as fast as her sexy-as-shit four inch black strappy stilettos will take her in her tiny mini dress. That dress has me thinking of skipping the ice bath now. Her body under me is the only R&R I need.

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