Penetrate: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Alpha Athletes) (8 page)

E
verything after that was a blur
. Somehow we ended up checking into a hotel. Pierce said he didn’t want everyone in the village to hear what we were going to do. I didn’t know what the difference was between hotel patrons or athletes, but I didn’t argue when he carried me over the threshold of the suite.

My heart beat rapidly. I knew what was coming next. I knew what the night had in store for me. I knew what Pierce was capable of.

He placed my feet on the floor at the foot of an enormous bed.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

I stood still, my head rotating to follow him around the room. He turned on the radio and fiddled with the stations until he landed on something with a heavy Latin beat. Next, he dimmed the lights, and disappeared into the kitchen where I could hear glass clinking. He returned with two glasses of champagne.

“Take your clothes off.” He stood in front of me.

I quickly pulled my shirt off and shimmied out of my shorts. It was nice to wear something that wasn’t Italian for once. I faced him in my white lace trimmed panties and bra.

“Everything,” he growled.

I hooked my fingers under the lace and pushed the fabric down my thighs and stepped out of them. It only took one flick to unhook the bra. The straps fell off my shoulders and slid to the floor.

“Fuck, I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he whispered.

And he made me feel gorgeous. How he eyed me. How he worshipped my body. How he told me over and over how beautiful and sexy I was.

I reached for a glass of champagne.

“Oh no.” He shook his head. “I’m drinking this victory off your body and you’re doing the same thing.” He smiled wickedly.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

He chuckled, holding the glasses. “Lie back on the bed, baby.”

I didn’t know what to do. There was a thrill of adrenaline that coursed through me, trying to figure him out.

I sat, scooting backward before my back hit the mattress and my hair splayed around me like a fan. Pierce placed one glass on the bedside table next to me.

“That one is for you,” he explained. “This one was is for me.”

I inhaled sharply. I suddenly had a feeling I was getting ready to have a whole new relationship with champagne.

P
ierce

I
dunked
a finger inside the glass the withdrew it, coating one of her nipples with a slow swirl. I leaned down to lick the bubbles from her tit. She arched her back toward me. She was such a fucking good girl at this.

“You know what we’re celebrating?” I asked.

She licked her lips. “Your big win of course.”

I shook my head, letting a few drops drip to her other breast before I devoured the sweet champagne from her nipple.

“No, we’re celebrating saying ‘fuck off’ to everyone else.”

I tipped the glass, pouring a small stream on her navel. She shivered as I lowered my head to lap the alcohol from her skin.

“Ohh.”

She writhed under me.

“Stay still,” I teased.

“You’re not upset I told my brother and he told Eric?”

I pushed her knees apart. “What do you think?”

I dumped the rest of the glass from one knee to the other, watching with thirst as the bubbles trickled down her legs, over the softness of her thighs and soaking her perfectly delicious clit. I lowered my head, sucking lightly at first, but the thirst overcame me and I lapped and licked harder until I pushed my tongue inside her while she bucked her hips wildly.

Her hands fisted through my hair as she moaned inaudible sounds. I could get drunk off her like this every day. It was fucking amazing how she tasted. How she sounded. How she felt.

Her tight pussy clenched at me violently. I grinned.

“Do you want me now, baby?” I asked.

“Oh God yes,” she whimpered.

I unzipped my pants and unleashed my cock. I saw the look in her eye as I kicked my pants to the floor. I took my time settling between her legs.

“Just like this?” I asked, rubbing the head of my dick between her soaking wet folds, coating myself in her arousal and champagne.

“Fuck me,” she urged.

I slammed into her with a solid thrust as we both groaned with the intensity. It was sticky and sweet. I moved in and out of her, feeling our skin gliding over skin. I shoved her ankles over my shoulders, in search of an angle that would bring us both to our fucking knees.

She screamed as I flicked her clit back and forth with my fingers. She was tight and swollen. Her head rocked to the side.

“Oh, Pierce. Fuck me harder.”

“Harder?” I reared back. She was fucking unbelievable. I slammed into her, until we were both blinded by the oblivion of skin and heat.

I pumped, scaling her body, licking, kissing and fucking her until we were covered in sweat and champagne.

I grabbed her ass as I felt my release building. It gripped the base of my spine. I roared as I pumped into her, spilling everything I had one thrust after another. My orgasm took me to a space of black. There was no color. Only the feeling of being buried inside her sweet pussy.

I collapsed on top of her.

Her hands moved over my back. I could hear the rapid beat of her heart.

“You know I still have a glass of champagne over there.” She giggled.

“You’re kidding, right?” I could barely move a muscle. I was spent and exhausted.

“I don’t kid about champagne.” Her voice sounded very authoritative. And that’s when I learned what I had thought all along. Sierra Leigh was the fucking girl of my dreams.

I
t wasn’t supposed
to happen this way. I didn’t expect it. I didn’t know this was how my love story would be written, but it was.

“Bella, please.” Sergio and Paulo looked genuinely sad.

“Stop. Stop, you two. You’re going to find another trainer.” I stood on the tips of my toes to hug each of them.

They were still wearing their bronze medals. They had an excellent run the rest of the games despite how things started against the American team.

“But we’ll miss you, bella.”

“I know. Who is going to rub your stinkin’ leg, Paulo?” I put my hands on my hips. His calf hadn’t cramped all week. I started adding potassium to his water and it seemed to do the trick.

“No one like you.” He kissed me on the top of the head, and I thought maybe they did like me more than I realized.

I stood outside the airport. It was chaos. Thousands of people were trying to fly home. And home could be anywhere in the world.

“Will you come see us when you pack up?”

“Yes. I will definitely come do that.”

I didn’t know exactly when I was going to make it back to clear out my little Italian apartment, but I wasn’t about to abandon the things I had there, especially the Italian leather I had collected in my closet.

I turned around when I felt a strong hand slide along my shoulder. It was Pierce.

“Ready, babe?”

I nodded.

Sergio and Paulo shook hands with Pierce. “Be good to Bella.”

“I’ve got her.” He eyed each of them. He was tired of people telling him what to do when it came to me. We had a pretty good thing worked out without all of the interference.

It was what we both wanted. It was fast and furious. So hot I thought there was no way it could last, but then the days led to another night and another morning I’d wake up in his arms and it didn’t stop. I was completely smitten. Completely head over heels. Completely in love.

Instead of flying back to Italy, I was headed home with Pierce in a couple of days. He had press to do for the next two weeks. After that maybe we would go to Europe for my things.

I hugged the guys one last time. “Ciao.” I waved.

Pierce led me to the car.

“You ok?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes. I didn’t want to go back to Italy.” He closed the car door behind me and walked around to the other side. He gave the driver our hotel address.

“I didn’t want you to go back to Italy.”

“It was never home. Six months in and I still couldn’t find my way there.”

“Because you were supposed to be with me.”

I smiled. In some kind of weird game of fate, exactly what Eric and my brother hadn’t wanted to happen is exactly what happened. Maybe if I had been the trainer for Team USA, things would have ended differently. We’ll never know.

“I guess so.” I looked out the window.

“I know so. You are mine, Sierra.” He pulled me into his lap. Shit, he was hard.

“Oh no.” I shook my head.

He laughed. “I can wait until we get to the hotel.” His hand slid up my skirt and I gasped. “But you can’t.”

I gave him a warning look, but he didn’t care. His fingers moved with sinful magic, until my head was buried on his shoulder, gasping silently for air while he fucked me quietly and artfully with his strong hands.

The driver pulled up to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Pierce paid him while I straightened my skirt and tried to find my balance.

He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the hotel.

“I’m glad the Olympics are over,” he growled against my neck, tugging me into the elevator. He pushed the button for our floor.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Because ever since I got that gold I wanted to put it around your neck and fuck you with nothing else on.”

I gulped.
Holy shit.

“That ok with you?” he asked, chuckling.

I nodded. The elevator dinged as the doors retracted and we walked down the hall.

As we walked in the suite, I dropped my skirt and peeled my shirt over my head. Pierce’s lips landed on my mouth. “I fucking love you,” he growled.

My eyes widened. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do. I love you.”

I giggled, walking to the bed. “Go get that medal, because I fucking love you too.”

* * *

T
hank
you so much for reading
Penetrate
from the Alpha Athletes series!

Keep reading for a preview of
UNDER THE LIGHTS
(a full-length football romance).

Follow Violet and sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss any new releases.

I
am so excited
to share the final book in the Alpha Athletes series with you. I had a blast writing these. It was fun to put a naughty spicy, twist on what happens behind the scenes at the games, even if it’s completely in my imagination.

So the truth comes out…way back I had a very sexy encounter with a professional beach volleyball player. He was a super sweet guy and as hot as hot can be. I love it when I can give a little nod to someone I’ve met in my life in some way through my writing. So wherever he is I hope he knows he inspired this girl to write something she never dreamed possible.

Thanks so much for reading and sharing the Alpha Athletes! I’ve got some hot football coming your way very soon.

XOXO,

Violet

S
ometimes people are wrong
. They’re wrong about what the score will be at the end of the game. They’re wrong about what route to run. They’re wrong about who they can trust. And fuck it, they’re wrong about people. Wrong about love. I used to be one of those people. Cynical. Egotistical. Selfish. But all it takes is one second. One split second of your life when you think you’ll lose everything. And suddenly it comes into focus. Faster than I take a snap. Faster than I read the defense. I can see all of it. I can see it being ripped away. In a split second all of it can be ruined. There could be a life where she doesn’t exist. Where the mistakes push her away.

They are wrong about me. And the thing about me is I love to prove people wrong.

***

I
t was
hot as shit on the practice field. The September sun beat down on everyone. It didn’t discriminate between million dollar players or the trainers who took home fifty thousand a year. It was brutal and unrelenting, reminding all of us what it meant to play football in Texas.

Ownership promised we would have an indoor facility soon with air conditioning, but that didn’t do a damn bit of good when my linemen were cramping up on the field and I could barely see from the sting of sweat rolling in my eyes.

I gripped the ball between my fingers, digging into the leather with my nails while the sideline crew ran out to squirt water in the players’ mouths. I didn’t see what good an ounce of water was going to do in this heat, but I waited anyway.

Our rookie tight end, James, walked up to me. “What did you think of that last play?”

“I think it sucked.” I held my helmet under my arm and squirted water on the back of my neck.

I could see him huffing as hard as the rest of the team and he was twenty-two—the youngest guy out here.

“I’ve been asking for pointers since July,” he started.

I didn’t want to hear his excuses or anyone else’s. If you played for the American Football Association, you better have the balls to back it up. James was a top draft. He was new to the league, the process, and me.

“You want advice? Get out there and catch the fucking ball when I throw it.” I slammed my helmet over my head, clamping it against my forehead. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

He shook his head, running to the line of scrimmage. I didn’t take on projects, and I sure as hell didn’t take rookies under my wing. They had to learn like the rest of us did.

This game wasn’t built on kindness. It wasn’t built on friendship. It was built on that scoreboard. When the clocked down to zero the only thing that mattered was what number was next to the Warriors’ name. Make catches. Block punts. Tackle the runner. That was their job. If they needed me to tell them how to do that they didn’t belong on my team.

The Austin Warriors were one of the league’s original teams. You either hated or loved us. There wasn’t a lot of gray area with AFA fans. There were families in the stadium on Sundays who had handed their seats down for three generations.

We were a legendary team. A team with deep roots. A team with history.

Warrior football was everything to this town. And that made me the fucking general. The commander of this army.

I yelled, scattering the conditioning team. “If you want to get the hell out of this heat, let’s finish this practice.”

I could see I wasn’t the only one. The linemen weren’t tolerating the heat. Droplets of sweat beaded on their noses as they took their positions for the snap. We had two more plays to run. Only two. If I could make it through, I could soak in an ice tub for an hour and put this hellish practice behind me.

I could forget the imprint the sun had burned on my forearms. Forget I practiced for the third day in a row hung over. There was Too much bourbon last night. I could still taste it in my mouth. The way my tongue was thick. But that was part of the Luke Canton package. I did whatever in the hell I wanted at night, but I performed on the field the next day.

I called out the next play, took the snap, and threw the ball long into the end zone. I nodded at James. He caught it square in the chest. It was a perfect spiral.

No one wanted to be out here. It wasn’t glorious or glamorous. It fucking sucked running drills in a hundred degree heat.

Twenty minutes later I was in the practice facility locker room climbing into a tub of ice. The trainer added another bucket of cubes as I slid my feet to the bottom of the floor.

“How’s that, Luke?” he asked.

“Just keep dumping it in until I say quit.”

The ice was melting against the blistering patches of skin I immersed under the surface. It was both painful and a relief. It was the shock I needed to erase the last fragments of my headache.

I started to settle in, trying to adjust my huge frame to the confines of the tub. It was hard to fit all of me in this cramped space. My dark hair was stuck to my head. I scooped a handful of the ice water and dumped it on my scalp, and shook the water from my ears.

“Canton!”

I whipped my head around. “What?”

“Coach wants to see you.”

I glared at the tight end assistant. “Tell him I’m doing a cool down.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t care. Wants your ass in his office now.”

“Damn it,” I muttered. I considered refusing to leave, but the assistant waited in the doorway. I pulled one icy leg and then the other out of the tub and dripped across the tile. I wrapped a towel around my waist, tucking the corner against my hipbone and pushed through the locker room door.

I knocked on Coach Applewhite’s door and walked inside.

His eyes pinched together. “Luke, you couldn’t put any clothes on?”

I stared down at my body. There was a puddle of water at my feet. “I was in cool down, but was told you couldn’t wait. This is what I had on. I can come back,” I offered.

To his right was Mr. McCade. I straightened my back. I had been too pissed at Coach to notice that the owner of the Warriors was in the office.

It was no secret Coach and I didn’t agree on much. We tried to stay out of each other’s way off the field as much as possible. It usually worked. Until now.

“Since you’re here, why don’t you sit?” Coach nodded toward the couch.

Mr. McCade was easily in his seventies, but none of us knew for sure. What we knew was he was a cheap bastard. He wanted the best team in the league, but wasn’t willing to pay for the facilities or the equipment we asked for. He wanted high dollar players, but negotiations could drag on for weeks. I didn’t have a lot to say to the man. He was my employer, but I wasn’t a fan.

One sweep around Coach’s office and you could see what the McCades thought about funding the management offices. The place looked like it hadn’t been updated since 1985. A row of play manuals lined the bookcase above his desk. There were a few framed family pictures scatted on the top shelf along with a team photo from three years ago. They all needed dusting.

“All right. What can I do for you, Coach? Mr. McCade?”

“I’m going to skip over the inspirational coach’s speech and get to the point.”

“Sounds good to me.” I stared at both of them with eyes just as cold as theirs.

Applewhite sighed. “We’ve got a problem on the team.”

“Yeah, guys are passing out left and right because they’re out of shape, it’s one-hundred twenty degrees out there, and rookies don’t know their routes,” I snarled. “What’s the status on the new indoor practice field?”

“Luke, we’re not here to talk about facility expansion. I’m not talking about the other guys. I’m talking about you.”

I sat there in my towel, waiting to hear what league infraction I had collected this time. Because it wasn’t the first time they had drug me in here with threats about my behavior. I’d gotten the speech fifty times to stop drinking. To stop picking up women. To stop speeding. To stop using my celebrity to get favors. The thing was I didn’t give a shit. I lived my life the way I wanted and as long as I gave them results every Sunday, they could fuck off.

Mr. McCade cleared his throat before reaching into his suit pocket and retrieving a photograph. “Do you know this young lady?” He slid it across the coffee table.

I picked it up. Pretty girl, but I’d never seen her before. “Nope.” I tossed it on the pile of sports magazines covering the flimsy white wood table.

“That’s not what she claims. She accosted me this morning outside of my home. It was a surprise, especially to my wife.”

If McCade wanted me to feel sorry for him, he didn’t know what it was like living with paparazzi. I couldn’t buy gas without reporters asking for a statement. No sympathy here.

“So?”

“So,” Coach intervened. “She claims you got her pregnant.”

“What the fuck?”

I stared at her picture. I’d remember a pretty face like that. And yes, I was a womanizer, but I wasn’t a fucking idiot. I used protection for accusations like this one. I knew what women wanted when they got in bed with me, and it wasn’t usually a night of hot sex. They wanted money. They wanted fame. They wanted a way to be noticed.

There were advantages. It kept things light. I didn’t get trapped into relationships. I had freedom. The way I saw it, it was perfect. The women came and went and my status never changed. I had what every man wanted. I learned to be careful.

“Luke, you’re a train wreck.” Coach stood from his desk and paced in front of his windows. They faced the practice field. He could watch us sweat from here while he called plays to the assistants on the field. There was one thing this office had—AC.

“Hold on. I don’t even know this girl. You can’t expect me to respond to this. It happens all the time.”

“And that’s the problem.” He spun around. “The drinking. The gambling. The partying. The women. It happens constantly and it has to stop. You’re out of control. It’s all out of control.”

“I didn’t sleep with that girl.” I gritted my teeth. “She’s extorting you for money. You have to see it.”

Mr. McCade plucked the picture and returned it to the silk lining against his chest. “That may be, but she has a compelling case. And all we need is one woman to come forward to the press, and see how many more follow after her. She’s the beginning of your worst nightmare. How many kids do you think you have out there?”

“She’s lying. She has no proof because it didn’t happen. I didn’t sleep with her.” I paused. I hadn’t missed the last question. “And the answer is none. I don’t have any kids. I like women, but I have no interest in becoming a father.”

“See, Luke what you don’t seem to understand is that no one would believe you. There are more pictures of you stumbling home, than there are of you with nice, respectable women. You have a reputation in this town. You have given the Warriors a reputation. And it’s going to stop.”

I felt the anger rising. I refrained from balling my hands into fists. I wasn’t going to knock out the team’s owner or Coach, but I was seeing red. One bullshit lie and they were coming down on me like I had done something wrong. I hadn’t touched that girl.

“What are you implying?” I asked.

Coach was doing most of the talking now. “There are provisions in your contract for moral conduct.” His eyebrows rose. “We can cite you for violating multiple infractions of the Warriors’ code of ethics.”

I shot up from the couch, almost losing my towel in my rage. “The hell you can.”

Mr. McCade folded his hands in his lap. “You’re a valuable quarterback, Luke, but right now you’re more of a liability to this franchise. I don’t want my family legacy soiled by your antics. The McCades have everything at stake. This is our team—not yours. This is your last warning.”

I glared at each of them, my eyes darting with fury. “Where’s Linc? Why didn’t you call him in for the meeting?”

Coach pressed his knuckes into the desk. “Your so-called manager? Your brother?”

I nodded. We all knew who Linc was. Applewhite was just being a dick. Linc took care of the business aspects of my life. He should be here getting me out of this damn meeting.

“He has about as much control over you as a wild bronco. He wasn’t invited. This is between you and your contract.”

I was tempted to end the meeting right now. Refuse to talk without my manager present, but it was better to get this over with. I wanted to know where this was headed.

“Spell it out. What do you want from me?”

“Clean up your act. Stop coming to practice reeking from the night before. No more gambling. Hire a damn driver. Choose your friends wisely.” Applewhite rocked on his heels. “And no more women. None.”

I chuckled. “You’re fucking with me now, right?”

“Your contract is in jeopardy. Your position on this team is in jeopardy. The last thing I’m doing is fucking with you.”

Coach reached into the top drawer of his desk and placed a manila envelope on top of his clipboard. I saw my name written on the tab.

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Open it.”

I thumbed the flap, flipping it with hesitation. I stared at the contents scattered in front of me. I picked up the top newspaper clipping. “What is this?” I questioned.

“Your file,” he muttered, turning his back to me. “It’s every article. Every picture. Every time you were pulled over for speeding and there was a write-up. It’s every headline about noise disturbances from the parties you throw.”

I spread the articles and notes around, digging through the stack Coach or some bored son of a bitch in human resources had collected on me. My life in Austin was compiled into this damn folder. But I couldn’t find anything on my quarterback rating or the numbers I put up every Sunday. There was nothing on my pre-season stats. No, this was a file on the dirty life I lived in the public eye. Austin’s star didn’t hide. He lived fully. That’s what the folder showed me.

“So this is what it’s come down to? No one here has my back? You don’t care how many points I put on that board out there? What you care about is a fucking stack of newspaper clippings? Unbelievable.” I shook my head.

“We do have your back, Luke. That’s why we’re having this meeting.” Coach turned to his desk and handed me an invitation. “This is for you.”