Page 83 of Second Shot

“God, Brynne,” I groan, when she drops to her knees and takes my cock into her warm, wetmouth.

Her tongue lashes out at the head of my cock. I twist my fingers in her hair and watch as she takes me deep, then pulls back, glancing up at me with a wicked littlesmile.

My cell rings somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes. I ignore it, but when it rings for the third time, Brynne releases me and stands, raking her nails down mychest.

“Should you getit?”

“No fucking way,” I growl, crashing my lips against hers, wanting to find the damn phone and toss it off thebalcony.

It ringsagain.

Brynne mumbles against my lips, “Maybe youshould-”

“Shit,” I mutter. The universe is not on my side tonight. I rummage through the clothes and find my phone, answering gruffly, “Yeah?”

“Mr.Madden?”

“Speaking.”

“I’m calling from University Hospital. I have you listed as a contact for StevenJacobs.”

I glance over at Brynne, who’s watching me with raised eyebrows, and my throat sinks into my chest. She must see it, because concern flashes in hereyes.

“Is he all right?” I ask, already knowing the answer. They wouldn’t have called if hewas.

“He was brought in by ambulance. He has had a heart attack. I suggest that you get here as soon as youcan.”

Chapter 27

Brynne

I’mnumb as I sit in the small waiting area that slowly fills with players and some of their wives. We’ve been here for hours, and all I know at this point is that my father had a heart attack and he’s insurgery.

It’s late, or early, depending how you look at it, but as exhausted as I am, I can’t close my eyes. All I can think is that this is myfault.

Rationally, I know it isn’t. But the guilt is stillthere.

And then there’s the way the players and their wives keep looking at me. Most don’t make it obvious, but I keep catching their glances, and the way they quickly lookaway.

Kane crouches in front of me, holding Noah, who’s fast asleep in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go lie down? There’s aroom-”

“I’mfine.”

He nods and places a hand on my knee, which causes more raisedbrows.

“Why are they all here?” I say with more frustration than I have a right to feel. But I can’t help it as I glance around the room, feeling the weight of theirstares.

Kane watches me with the same concern in his eyes he’s had since he received the phonecall.

Hereceived the call. That’s another thing that pricks at my chest. That Kane, rather than his own daughter, was his emergencycontact.

“Do you want me to ask them toleave?”

“No.” What right do I have to do that? If anything, they have more right to be here than I do. They’re my father’s real family. I’m just the prodigal daughter – or, at least, that’s what I see in theireyes.

Judgement.

Suspicion.

---