Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (31 page)

Agnes is asleep when I arrive, so I just sit next to her. It saddens me to see her lively self in such a constricted state. Life may be fragile, but it is definitely for the living, and sitting on the shelf, like I had been, in a constant state of worry, isn’t living. When it’s my time to leave this earth, there should be no regrets. Enjoy it while you have it is what I would advise anyone else. Hell, it’s what Ms. Agnes had been shouting at me for years.

My ringing phone startles both myself and Agnes.

She smiles, opening her eyes.

“Hey, babe. Where are you?” Devlin’s deep voice slides through loud and clear and sends tingles through me.

Before, I had been scared to let him in, to tell him about my life, because I worried that my weakness would make him want to leave. It’s time to move past that.

“I’m sitting with Agnes,” I tell him.

“I was just checking on you. I’m still at the office, but I’ll be home about five or so.”

“Cool. I’ll be there by then.”

“Take your time, sweetie. See you tonight.”

“All right. See you later. Love you,” I blurt out mindlessly. I didn’t mean to say that, but it felt right, came out so naturally. I hang up before I can hear how appalled he is or if he rejects me or anything, really.

Agnes lets out a grumbly laugh.

It’s good to see her smile.

“Love conquers,” she says placing a “U” over her heart to make our signal that we use when we part.

I smile, too, because he was obviously thinking of me.

* * *

I
make
it to Devlin’s home about an hour before him and get dinner started. I clean myself up, change clothes, since I bought a lot of them, and pop a pie in the oven all before he walks through the back door. Domestic shit. Check. Sexy for my man. Check.

“Hey,” he grins, entering the kitchen.

I feel a little weird after my phone confession, but hopefully he’ll ignore it, forget it, never ever mention it.

“How was your day?” I ask.

Dropping his keys on the counter and slipping out of his shoes, he moves to embrace me.

I fall between his arms, sinking into the warm pleasure of his body.

“It went well,” he says, placing his jacket and tie on the counter and stepping over to peep in the oven. “Then I found out that someone is in love with me.”

Well damn. He turns to watch my expression, and my body heats with embarrassment. My nails become intriguing as I flick them between each other. I can’t stand to see his handsome face shoot me down. Not today. Not after I had enjoyed it so much.

“Devlin. When I said that, I—”

He kisses away the rest of my explanation.

His hungry mouth presses against mine like I am a four-course meal. I feel like cotton candy in the rain as his hands move everywhere, all at once it seems.

In seconds, my clothes are on the floor next to his.

He sprawls my legs apart, steadying me against the island counter before jamming his hard length into me in a frenzy of frantic thrusts.

“I needed this,” he moans into my ear. “Needed you.”

The smell of his cologne, his brawny dick filling me up from the inside, and his pumping body, push me to the edge.

“Yes.”

“Say it,” he mutters against my earlobe.

I clamp onto his shoulders as we hammer against each other without restraint. Who knew life could be this good? Certainly not me.

“Say it,” he grunts as he volleys his body against me, and I have no choice. His relentless thrusts leave me without much choice.

Emotion builds and heightens with each movement of his swelling muscle housed inside me.

“I love you, Devlin. I love you. Damn, I love you,” I nearly sing, all of my senses obliterated as though I had been shattered into tiny pieces and then rewound back together.

A guttural groan rises from his throat as he pierces his hot flesh into me.

“That’s right, come for me, baby,” he grunts, pumping impossibly harder and faster. “You feel so good. So fucking beautiful.”

He overtakes my mouth for a wild, unruly kiss and clamps onto my waist.

I just hold on, lost somewhere in a space of rainbow-feelings pounding through me.

“I love you, Ayron,” he growls. “Fuck, I love you,” he groans with one last heightened push into me.

His head falls against my exposed breast. “I swear to you that I love you,” he pants into my chest. “And I want every day to be this way. Stay with me.”

He kisses me before moving away.

“I’m going to get cleaned up,” he states, still sounding breathless.

I smile. The feeling of being loved by Devlin makes me feel at the top of the world.

I throw on my shirt and underwear on wobbly legs, wash my hands in the sink, and pull my pie out of the oven.

I don’t know what to think or say.

Isn’t there a saying about milk and cows, and the order in which they are bought, or the price? He has my brain all messed up.

Devlin returns to the kitchen a few minutes later in a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, and I haven’t moved from the counter.

He slaps my ass before kissing my cheek and heading over to the pie.

“Get out of my pie,” I fuss playfully, snapping out of the thoughtful trance he had left me in.

“I can’t have your pie?” he teases with that naughty smile, tasting it anyway.

I roll my eyes at him.

“They’ll get stuck that way,” he says, taking another bite.

“Whatever. Do you like it?” I ask.

“It’s all right. Your first one was sweeter.”

“I was sadder.”

“I know. This one is better.”

He moves toward me, and I see uncertainty in his eyes.

Devlin pulls a small silver object from his pocket.

He clears his throat.

“I know that we have a long way to go, and I’m not an easy man to love, but since you’ve become a part of my life, everything seems brighter, better.”

He slides the silver ring onto my pinky finger, and I burst into hysterical laughter.

The ring looks as though it came from a Florida beach gift shop. The center of it looks like a clear mood ring, but inside there is a 3-D blue-and-yellow Angelfish.

“Stay with me. Be my Angelfish. We can become better together, grow together, take a lifetime to learn one another.”

The tears start before my words can.

He pulls me close to him and rocks me.

“I need an answer, babe,” he says gently.

Sniffling, I meet his gaze.

“You really love a girl like me?”

“Forever.” He motions his hand vertically and then horizontally over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“Yes. I’ll stay. I love you so much.”

C
hapter 22-Ayron
Three Months Later

The Gladys Masters Center for Employee Support, housed in the Masters in Style headquarters, had been operational for one month. Over dinner one night, Devlin and I had developed an idea to provide a daycare for employee children, classrooms for continuing education courses, and a therapist for emotional support, free of charge. I’m not sure if he asked me to help oversee the development of the project because he liked to take me as his lunch break or if he really valued my opinion—either way, it made me happy. Devlin had given me carte blanche to redesign a wing of six offices into an area to improve employee relations after he took over as president of the company.

“Monique is here,” my new assistant Leslie rings in over the intercom. I’d caught her making moon eyes at the additional psychiatrist, Dr. Brian Jamal Stephens, I’d hired.

I’m glad that Devlin let me add Dr. Stephens. Once I explained how much time the project would take and all of the nights I would have to work away from home to get things done, he was more than happy to sign on the money line. Devlin just makes impromptu visits and always uses an extra-manly voice when Brian is around. His jealousy is cute, but unnecessary. Brian has a thing for Monique, and Monique still hasn’t forgiven him for what he did to her in college.

“You don’t have to announce me,” Monique huffs. She hasn’t made it into my office physically yet, but I can hear her. “Twig is my girl from way back.”

I grimace at her use of that nickname.

Monique enters my office and places the large, brown paper sack on my desk.

“You need to check that new assistant of yours. Ms. Agnes knew what was up.”

“Leslie does well,” I protest.

“She made me wait in the lobby while she checked to see if you were available,” Mo fusses, plopping a hand on her hip.

“The nerve of her.” I giggle.

“So stop stalling, Twig. Take the damn test already.”

My heart nearly freezes with fear when Monique pulls three pregnancy tests from the bag. I don’t think I need to take one. Periods can disappear, breasts can be tender, bodies can be bloated and not be pregnant.

“Nope.” I place them all back in the bag in the same order that she had pulled them out. “My body is just playing tricks on me, that’s all.”

Monique pulls out her cellphone.

“Devlin. Hey. This is Monique. There is a situation with Ayron, and I kind of need your help.”

I snatch the phone away from Monique in horror.

“Dev. I’m sorry she called you,” I stutter into the phone. I wish I could really shoot darts with my eyes. I give Monique my best evil glare.

“You all right?” he asks. “I just walked out of a meeting. You need me to come downstairs?”

“No,” I respond, a little too eagerly. “I’m good. Monique is just being Monique. I love you.” I add those words to try and smooth the situation over, but I feel like they set off more alarms in Devlin instead.

“I’ll see you for lunch today. Whatever it is that you’re keeping from me, I want to know then.” His voice is serious before turning sweet. “I love you, too.”

“Real fucking great, Mo,” I chide, allowing her phone to freefall from my hand. I hope it breaks. “Now he’s coming to check on me at lunch.”

“I don’t care about you being mad, or trying to break my phone. Your baby daddy got big bucks anyway and I’m on his good side.”

I cringe at the word “baby daddy” because then I would be his “baby momma.” Not cool. What would be even worse is me forcing him into a marriage to avoid stupid titles.

“I don’t even know yet if there’s a baby.”

Monique pushes her lips to the side.

“You know your body. You already know the answer. Quit being fucking chicken and take the test. Do I need to go get Agnes and wheel her ass in here? She’ll pop you with her cane.”

I laugh at the thought of Agnes trying to whoop me with her cane. She is still on hospice care, but she’s still as feisty as her body allows.

“For someone who wouldn’t let me live with her when I needed to, you sure are bossy.”

Monique throws her hands up in the air.

“Here we go with that again,” she sighs. “Mr. Money Bags bribed me to tell you “no.” He wanted you to stay with him. It worked, didn’t it? I bought you a killer birthday present out of guilt, and you got a fine-ass man with a lot of money. I think I deserve a thank you.”

Monique had told me about Devlin’s plan over drinks when she returned from England.

“Quit trying to change the subject.” She shoves a test box in my hand, just as a knock comes from the door.

“It’s Brian. Can I come in?” he calls out from behind the closed door.

“Hell no,” Monique whispers to me harshly.

I smile.

“If you talk to Brian, I’ll take the test.”

She glares at me.

“He’s a fine-ass man with a lot of money.” I wink.

“And we don’t mention the whole “turning-you-away-in-a-time-of-need” thing anymore?” Monique counters.

“Deal,” I agree, gathering the tests into the bag.

“You can come in, Brian,” I tell him.

Monique releases a heavy sigh.

When Brian enters, polar opposite looks stamp the faces of my two comrades.

He doesn’t say a word, just watches her like she is a unicorn, like she is something he thought he’d never see.

Brian’s smile takes over his entire face, while Monique has flared her nostrils and lowered her eyes like a charging bull.

“Brian, would you mind keeping Monique company for a few? I need to run out for five to ten minutes.” I smirk and excuse myself, shutting the door behind me.