Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
For.
Ever.
Patient and sure, tasting every hesitation I tried to hide.
My pulse tripped as I arched against him, fully clothed and achy. And for one wild second, I was wide awake this morning. And I’d stopped fighting the feeling that maybe—just maybe—this was where I was supposed to be.
I’m so sorry, Virginia. I can’t … resist.
Montana began to tug an arm out of his robe. Bicep muscles rippled like the ocean on a sunny day.
Yep. Couldn’t resist this temp—
Buzz!
Somewhere nearby, a loud alarm broke through, and Montana lay between my thighs, gripping at the fuzzy material, and growled. “Bruh.”
montana
. . .
If it wasn’t Momma, or in this case, time, our laughing, touching, and kissing would’ve escalated.
But my alarm screamed. Meeting. Business. Consequences.
And Zuri deserved my attention.
At least the first time.
One ride, Big Country. You only give females one ride. Damn sure, didn’t want her to steal an entire season.
After an hour of fighting through LA traffic, I now sat in the sleek lobby of a glass-and-steel building, scrubbing my beard.
Zuri took my hand.
The old me would’ve stuffed my hands into my pea coat. But here I was doing whatever I could to touch her. And damn sure wasn’t listening to my alter ego. One ride? Once? I didn’t appreciate nothing about any of that. I brought the back of her hand to my lips and smiled the best I could while a knot formed in my chest.
This was supposed to be the chillest part of the season. NFL played less than twenty games. The NBA played four times that. Double for baseball. I didn’t get a vacation after this long-ass sports season.
I ground my teeth. Fans thought I was a generational talent. But owners, man, they counted every dollar, every scandal.
“You’re thinking loudly, Montana,” Zuri murmured, pushing her hand through her new wig. She then squeezed my hand in her lap, looking all innocent. “They can’t sideline you forever. Okay? You scored …” She proceeded to tell me my stats last season.
“Don’t matter how good I was, bébé. They’ve already fined me. Now the world knows I’m getting sued. Ain’t a good look.”
“No, it’s not.” My agent approached, dreads in a ball on top of her head.
Zuri sighed, as if to say my manager wasn’t helping.
Nah. She was. LaShawn kept it real. “Nice to meet you, Journey. Good job,”—LaShawn glanced over her shoulder—“playing up the concerned girlfriend.”
“I am. Well, not his … I care.”
LaShawn cocked her head. “Let’s do this, Montana. You have three years left. They won’t cut you.”
I swallowed, throat dry. A reel played in my mind where TMZ lit my ass on fire, shared how disrespectful and disgraceful my actions were to the kids this sport loved.
“Montana,” Zuri whispered, standing. “You got this.”
Her hand pressed against my jaw, firm and soft, and she edged up in her heels to meet me. I bent. No way I wouldn’t meet this beautiful woman halfway.
Our mouths collided. None of Zuri’s polite, innocent mess. Her lips brought fire like they had on my living room floor an hour ago. The taste of her was an explosion of everything I’d been holding back since the ride over.
Zuri didn’t hesitate; she owned it, lips moving against mine with a hunger I’d have unraveled this morning if not for alarms and business.
Her fingers slid up the back of my neck, nails grazing my skin. My breath caught. Damn. I still had a little PTSD from when those talons brought the pain. Now? All silky soft. Sensual. Everything I expected in this beautiful woman.
More than that. This kiss made me rethink my priorities. Ballparks. Contracts. Stats. Did anything matter anymore? Nah.
Just her.
Fireworks couldn’t describe this. Lightning hit marrow. I pulled her in so tight that she couldn’t breathe without breathing me in too. My grip constricted. That alarm had me on time this morning, but I’d be damned if they didn’t see us standing here and respect that I needed this.
After a throat cleared nearby, Zuri pulled back, all ragged exhales, red-hot cheeks, and grins. I didn’t want to admit I needed to catch my breath too. She gripped the bottom of my beard. “Don’t let them take what they didn’t give you. You hear me?”
I nodded, jaw tight. As I turned toward the doors, I knew this woman was my bone. My strength. Weakness. The damn humble pie I never bargained for.
LaShawn and I stepped into the boardroom. A dozen sharp suits lined up around the table. Dodger logos gleamed from pens to paperweights. The air smelled of money and disinfectant. Nobody here ever sweat to earn a dollar.
Face carved from stone, I sat. If they knew my background. Who that man was to me. Maybe they’d have sympathy. Look down on me with pity.
Pride locked my mouth shut. That jailbird, my sperm donor, didn’t deserve to be spoken of.