Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (30 page)

“Well, don’t you look spiffy,” I say.

“Spiffy?” He laughs. “It’s the first day back, got to be sharp. I probably won’t be back here until after six.”

Devlin moves about the kitchen making a cup of coffee to go and sandwiching strips of bacon and a fried egg between two pancakes.

“That’s fine. I need to see Ms. Agnes and find out what’s happening with my place,” I say. “Herein lies the problem.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

I quiver at his use of the word and the look of concern in his eye.

“I don’t have my car, or clothes, or,” I pause, dreading to bring up the word, “or money.”

A look of relief washes over his face, but all that I can do is count the shiny hardwood boards on the floor and pick at my already clean fingernails. Embarrassed. The last thing that I want to be is needy. A charity case.

“Is that it?” he questions, placing his breakfast on the counter and moving close to me. “Look at me, Ayron.”

I lift my head to meet his gaze, the twinkling caramel eyes that captured my attention and my heart.

“I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I got you.”

I taste him on my lip when I bite it.

He slides a finger against my jaw line.

“You are beautiful in the morning,” he sighs. “Honestly, I don’t want to leave. I’d drive you around all day if I could.”

“You barely let me leave the bedroom yesterday.” I blush.

“And I’m already planning to hold you there tonight as soon as I get home,” he admits with a naughty grin.

“Do you want a driver? I can order you a service.”

I frown.

“The keys to the Panamera are on my dresser. I planned on taking the turbo today,” he says, standing. “In the closet, there’s a compartment behind my navy shoes on the shoe island with some fun money. Take what you need.”

Devlin kisses my forehead, and then my lips.

“You are going to make me take you right here, right now,” he hums against my mouth. “Damn, you look good.”

I feel like a disheveled mess.

“Go to work,” I coax, but looking at the tent forming near the front of his pants, I start to have second thoughts. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I’m glad that you will be.”

“Do you need receipts?” I ask as he picks up his breakfast and coffee and heads toward the garages.

“No, Ayron,” he chuckles before turning to look at me. “I don’t care what you spend, as long as you spend it on you. Go and get a massage, a facial, or whatever overpriced girly stuff women do. I don’t care if you buy the store, just have fun today. I’ll take care of tonight.”

“You may regret those words.”

“I doubt it. I bet you won’t even spend five thousand dollars.”

“You’re right, because that’s crazy.”

His laugh vibrates through me, and I want to kiss that smug look off of his face. Had he really learned me that quickly?

“I dare you to take five thousand dollars and spend it on you today,” he propositions.

My eyes bulge at the outrageousness.

“Devlin, that’s way too much.”

“And now I do want receipts, so I can verify that you don’t go blow it on an orphanage or something.”

I chuckle as he kisses me goodbye, amazed by my good fortune.

C
hapter 20-Devlin

Even though I tore myself away from home later than I intended, I am still earlier than most of the employees. It was like trying to escape flypaper, leaving my beautiful Ayron this morning. I wanted to soothe her every worry, feel her mouth against me, and bury myself between her until our bodies couldn’t withstand the ecstasy any longer.

Tonight though, all of that will be happening because she’s staying in my home. For the moment at least. I have to find a way to convince her to make the situation more permanent. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of the good life, I don’t want to let it go.

Ayron complements every part of me; she has become like another part of me. It grates my nerves to hear her trying to arrange another place to stay. I want to be the one that she leans on. I don’t understand why she would try to stay someplace else. I would never infringe on her independence. I love that she has her own goals and aspirations, unlike my mother, who after working so long to build the business, just sat at home and did nothing but dream about my father once he became sucessful. He was never home, he was never there for her, even when she needed him the most, and it broke her heart to the point that she took her own life.

Ayron is a fighter, so much stronger than my mother had been. I found my mother after she had taken the pills, and I didn’t know what to do but watch her slip away. Dana must have told Trevor about it. His words about me not knowing what to do in the face of pressure had stung. I used to think that if I had just called 911, she could have lived a little longer. I think my family may have silently felt it, too, but they weren’t with her like I was. I was only five at the time. She had lost all of her spark, her zeal for life.

The person they had mourned at the funeral was someone I had only known briefly. They hadn’t met the serious, sad woman I grew up with, who put on a face of her former self when everyone showed up. What happened to my mother was not my fault. Maybe one day my family will accept me, but until then, Ayron is enough for me.

Gloria, who is usually perched outside of my office before daybreak, is nowhere to be found. Odd. I enter my office to find Trevor seated at my desk, as though he owns the place.

“Good morning,” I say. Today is my first day back. I have to keep my calm. I am surprised to see him here, but my father taught me the value of a steel face.

“I guess you thought that little stunt you pulled was going to knock me off.” He shakes his head, leaning back in my chair as though it’s his own. “The board did remove me as interim president, but your sister has decided to launch a cosmetics line under the M.I.S umbrella. Guess who’ll be running it.” He winks. “Guess who’ll be funding it?” He points in my direction. “Get me my money, boy. The details are listed in a report I saved on your desktop.”

In automatic response, my jaw tightens and I clench my fist. One hundred…ninety-nine…ninety-eight…ninety-seven…ninety-six…I count backwards in my head in an attempt to keep my anger in check. I have to play it smooth. I can’t let this stupid motherfucker rattle me.

“I’ll review it,” I respond curtly.

Trevor moves toward me, still holding on to that smug-ass grin.

“Don’t worry, it’s already daddy approved, so there’s no need to run to him.” He pats my shoulder, and I fight the urge to break his hand.

“Thanks for the info,” I say, moving toward my desk with a frown. First order of business is to find some damn Lysol and sanitize my shit.

“I heard that you decided to keep the help.”

“What you are talking about?”

“The therapist your father hired to tame you.” He moves his thumb and pointer finger together to make the “okay” symbol. “Quality piece of ass by the way.”

My blood boils, and the numbers seem to blur. Fifty-six…sixty-six…sixty-one… Fuck this.

I rub a hand over my face to give it something to do other than punch him.

“You should leave now,” I manage to grunt. “Keep your fucking eyes off my girl.”

He laughs like he heard a joke.

“Just make sure to send her my way when you’re done. I have a few issues I need to work out.”

I rush toward the man lingering in my door, shoulders squared.

The look on his face—like he's waiting for me to pummel him—is so calm that it stops me.

Nope. I won’t do it. I can’t give his childish ass the satisfaction.

As Ayron would say--there is more than one way to skin a cat.

“I’ll make sure to run that by my sister first.” I smile. “You know, your owner.”

He grimaces.

“Please leave.” I direct his vision to a small sign at the entrance to my office that read “video and audio recording in use.” “I’m sure the video of you breaking into my office and the audio of your provocation will support your termination.”

His nostrils flare as he turns haughtily and disappears down the hall. I’m glad I had that added during my vacation.

I spot Gloria sitting at her desk now.

She swiftly stands and scurries into my office behind me.

“Mr. Masters, I am so sorry that I wasn’t here earlier,” she pleads, her face scrunched with worry. “I apologize. I need this job. I know that if I work here, I have to put my duties first. I am so, so, so sorry. Please don’t fire me.”

I turn to face the older woman. I had never paid much attention to her looks, but I imagine that in her younger days, she could have been a head turner. She is younger than my father, but a lot older than me. Efficient, courteous, kind, smart. Why does she look so worried that I would fire her? She has been the best assistant that I’ve ever had.

“I don’t know what to say.” I watch the woman’s face. She looks near tears. Am I really that bad? I demand the best from my staff, but does she really believe I would be angry enough to fire her over one incident? She wasn’t even late; she was just usually always early.

“Don’t fire me. Say that I can keep my job.”

“What happened this morning?” I ask, genuinely interested in what caused her to be late. I can’t say that I know anything about the woman. Only that she’s not married, at least she doesn’t wear a wedding ring.

Her faced twists from a look of worry to confusion as I lean against my desk.

“Well,” she starts hesitantly. “My oldest daughter is on drugs, pretty bad,” she sighs. “She disappeared about a month ago and a hotel manager found her baby all alone in the room she was renting without anyone else. He’s only three. Thank the Lord there was a box of cereal in the room.”

“When did all of this happen?” I ask, horrified at the thought of a baby trying to survive all alone without a mother and no help. I can’t comprehend how Gloria had this all bottled in and worked every day, emotionless, as though nothing was wrong. I know what it is like to have a family member not be in their right mind. The worry that comes along with that. I had been in contact with her constantly concerning the business and I couldn’t tell that a thing was wrong.

“I figured something was going wrong when she stopped calling or coming by. Her apartment was empty when I went to search for her. I was contacted by child protective services a few days ago, and I picked up my grandson last night,” she confides. “I’m still trying to find daycare. I need to get him clothes, Pampers. I have a neighbor watching him today. I’m a single woman. I raised three kids on my own, and now I’m an old woman with a new baby.”

I nod, thinking about how my other half would handle this.

“I know that I may have been a little tough in the past,” I offer to Gloria as a semblance of an apology. “But you don’t have to worry about your job. Your family comes first. They are what matter. Take today and tomorrow to get your grandson situated. Paid time of course.”

The look of glee that fills her face pleases me. It feels kind of good.

“Thank you. This will help so much.”

“No problem. Thank you for your loyalty,” I tell her. “Find him a good place. I’ll provide you with a stipend for the first year of childcare.”

Tears stream from her eyes as she runs to hug me.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll get him settled and be back,” she gushes.

I am not sure how to respond.

“Okay,” I mutter.

“No matter what they say, you’re a good guy,” she says, rushing off from the office.

Well damn, what did my staff say about me?

The rest of the day is uneventful, a little difficult without my assistant, but manageable all the same. Thoughts of Ayron trying to spend money carelessly pervade my brain, and I laugh. I can’t wait to see what she bought when I get home.

C
hapter 21-Ayron

At first it was a little weird driving such a smooth and expensive car. The sound system blew me away. Beyoncé will be played in this car, ASAP, then I can really have a jam session. Even with just the radio on, I feel like I am at a concert.

I decide to take Devlin up on his offer to spend money on myself. Why not? I need something to wear for the Rhonda Raven show. Who knows what happened to my wardrobe in the fire—and this man has a truck load of money. I can’t even count all of the money that he had stacked neatly and packed away in his closet. That was basically his shoebox money. I can’t even imagine what he has in his safe. Today I am taking care of me, and it feels good. Mo had been suggesting that I get a money man for a long time, and now I can see why. The carefree feeling of knowing that finances are taken care of is liberating. If only for a little bit, I can live without worry.

The thought of Devlin diminished to the title of benefactor bothers me, though. He is more than that to me. He is my friend. We have fun together. He is a damn good lover and supporter. All he wants to do is take care of me. Shit, I’m stupid. He was all that I wanted and needed from Lance. When his snobby ex-girlfriend tried to degrade me, he shut her down, real quick. When things fell apart in my life, when I fell apart, he didn’t run and hide, he held me. Could this rich and gorgeous man possibly love me?

I traipse through the mall on the good side of town with my head held high. For the first time, I don’t pay attention to price tags. I just buy what feels good, whatever I like. Clothes, shoes, accessories. I get a professional waxing. Probably will be the last time I ever say the word Brazilian in my life after that experience. Who does that shit for fun? I find a lingerie store and pick up a few “thank you” pieces, and head home. Home? I head to Devlin’s home with a smile. I’ll work on finding my spot soon, but for now, Devlin’s can be like a vacation.

After a lingering soak in the huge, jetted garden tub, I dress and head to spend the afternoon with Agnes. My townhome had been a total loss according to the property manager. The fire department will not allow anyone in yet to retrieve things. He said some other words about it being structurally unsound and that the investigation may take another week. I just hope that I can salvage at least one of my grandmother’s quilts. I don’t really want to stop driving the Porsche, but at some point I will have to pick up my own car that I left parked near the complex. At some point, I will have to return to my lonely life. Playtime will be over.