Page 91 of Roughing the Player
Chapter 24
Eleanor
EVERYTHING CRASHEDAND BURNED that day. When Kaylee walked in, Brock stormed out, and he didn’t return for two days. Didn’t take a genius to know where he’d gone—the condo. He’d kept the lease so we could go there when we needed privacy. All of his furniture is still in the apartment, and many of his clothes.
When Kaylee asks where Brock has gone, I answer her questions as truthfully as I can. “He’s a free agent now, and he’s had offers.” Not a lie. Besides the South Carolina Wolves, two other teams want him. “So he’s feeling them out.”
That’s when she realizes he won’t be sticking around. “He’s not staying in Chicago?” Her eyes fill with tears.
“No, honey. Ty Mathews is getting back his starting job. Your dad’s too good to play backup.”
She bites down on her lip to keep from crying.
When had they grown so close? All I ever saw was them sniping at each other. But maybe that was their way of showing affection.
Two days later, I walk into the kitchen to find Brock on the couch, the remote in his hand, clicking at the TV. Kaylee and Butch stare at us with worried eyes before disappearing into her room.
I drop the grocery bags filled with chocolate and junk food on the kitchen island. “Are you eating with us?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make dinner then.”
“Whatever.” His gaze doesn’t veer away from the TV.
The monosyllabic treatment lasts through the night. Kaylee takes her food into her room, something I don’t normally allow. But tonight, I don’t have the heart to forbid her. Not with the frozen treatment going on in the living room.
After dinner, when I’m rinsing the dishes, he says what he has to say. “I’m going to Charleston. The Wolves want to talk to me.”
Makes sense. “Okay.” I’m vibrating like a tuning fork from his nearness, from his heat, from his scent. I want to reach out, go back to the way things were, but I can’t do that. Not after the hurtful words he hurled at me.
“When I return, I’ll be moving to the condo.”
My breath hitches. I don’t want him to go. Maybe if I give a little, he’ll meet me halfway. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Brock.”
He crushes me to him, grinds his mouth against mine, grinds something else as well. The part of him that’s hard as stone. Coming up for air, he looks at me. There’s no tenderness in his gaze. Anger blazes there instead. Anger and lust. “Damn you, Ellie.” He lifts me by my ass, and I straddle his hips.
He carries me to our room and tears off my clothes.
Standing in front of him, naked and trembling, I whisper, “Brock.”
He strips off his shirt, kicks out of his jeans, hauls me to him once more. “Don’t talk. That’s not what I need from you.”
Sex. That’s that he wants.
Fine. I want that too.
He picks me up and drops me on the bed. Eager for what’s coming, I spread my legs.
He grabs my ass and pulls me toward him. In a lust-fueled frenzy, his mouth ravishes my pussy—licking me, biting me. He thrusts his fingers into my core, one, two, more. I don’t stop him. He can do whatever he wants to me. Because I know this is the last time for us. He continues to torture me, bringing me to the brink and then receding, teasing me, not in a good way. I want to cum, but he won’t let me.
When he rises over me, I protest, “Wait, I want—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want.” He strokes the head of his penis against my opening. He doesn’t have to. I’m more than ready for what he wants. Satisfied I’m wet and aching for him, he thrusts into me. So hard. So goddamn big, I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. The bed squeaks violently beneath us as he pounds into me, taking everything he wants, everything I ache to give. I clamp my hands on his arms, wrap my legs around his while sweat pours off him. He works his cock in and out of me while, mindless with passion, I thrash on the bed. When the crisis hits, I come screaming his name. He’s not far behind. Once he reaches his climax, he tucks me into his side. The one bit of tenderness this night.
When I wake the next day he’s gone. But then I didn’t expect any different.
Over the next few days, I don’t wonder what’s going on. I know. Marty’s negotiating with the South Carolina Wolves, and Brock’s in Charleston. The few days turn into a week. At the end of the second, the big announcement comes. The Wolves have signed Brock to their team. Of course, he didn’t come cheap. Not that I had any doubts. Marty’s a great negotiator. He got Brock a $140 million five-year contract and a $20 million signing bonus, making him one of the highest paid quarterbacks in the league.
