Love on the Highlight Reel (Connecticut Kings Book 2) (21 page)


Are you sexting me while I’m at work?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to. – J. Johnson.”

“You know you want me to taste your pretty pussy in front of one of those big windows in your office, gorgeous. – J. Johnson.”


I’m about to block you from my phone.”

“No you’re not. You’re about to put your hand in your panties and touch it for me. I know you’re wet. – J. Johnson.”

“Take a picture. Show me. – J. Johnson.”


I… can’t right now.”

“Yes you can. Pull up your skirt, put your hand in your panties. Dip your finger in my pretty, wet pussy, and take a picture of your honey dripping off. – J. Johnson.”

“Cole, are you okay?”

“What?!” I snapped, hurriedly shutting off the screen of my phone. “What are you talking about, Presley?”

My battle worn assistant eyed me warily, then subtly shook her head. “You were panting. And your face is all flushed, like you’ve been running. I’m just making sure you aren’t having a heart attack or something.”

I averted my gaze, embarrassed. “I’m fine. Just uh… need some water. Do you need something? Are the final preparations for the Royal Ball event going as planned?”

“Yes,” Presley replied, perking up. Everything is handled. All that’s left are the things for the day of. Other than that, we’re golden.”

I nodded. “Excellent. You’ve done a great job with this.”

Get out of my office, girl.

“Thank you Cole,” she gushed, with a huge grin. I kept a smile on my face too, not wanting to be mean, but… I needed her to get out.

My phone lit up again, with another message, and I instinctively picked it up and turned it on. “Jesus!” I said out loud, as Jordan’s dick filled my screen in full color, full motion, and fully hard. Thank God I had the volume down. All I could do for a second was…
stare
. It was hypnotizing, watching his large hand pump over his beautifully veined skin. I clenched my thighs together, then remembered where I was and quickly turned the screen off, dropping the phone into my lap.

“Was there something I can do for you, Presley?” I asked, looking up at my assistant with what I hoped
wasn’t
a fully annoyed expression.

“Actually your friends are here. Naima and Margo. Should I send them in?”

I forced myself not to pout like a toddler. “Sure. Send them in.”

“Got it. And uh… you may want to…” She waved at the general area of her chest, then looked at me. “Maybe I should… adjust the temperature?”

My eyes went wide, and I looked down at my chest to see that my nipples were pressed, in high definition, against the front of my silk blouse. I quickly crossed an arm over my chest.

“Thank you Presley.”

“You’re welcome Cole. I’ll send them in.”

I blew out a sigh, cursing myself for not locking my damned door. I also made a mental note to change Jordan’s name in my phone, if he was going to be doing
this
type of thing.

“You play too much. That video autoplayed!”

“Where is my picture? You aren’t playing enough, obviously, because I’m not seeing it. – J. Johnson.”

“Be ready when I get back. The first thing I want to do is get inside of you. You going to make that happen for me? – J. Johnson.”

“Yes.”

“No panties.  – J. Johnson.”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I like to hear. – J. Johnson.”

I sucked in a breath, biting down on my lip as another video came through, this one of his climax. I squirmed in my seat, mouth watering as a thick gush of –

“Coooole!”

Damn it.

“Heeey!” I exclaimed, standing up to greet my friends.

Naima sucked her teeth. “Uh-uh, don’t try to act all excited now, like you haven’t been dodging us since you started getting dicked down by your old work again.”

“Shhhh!” I said, looking around them to make sure Presley hadn’t stepped in. “I’d like it if the whole Kings organization didn’t hear about it.”

Margo giggled. “Relax, Cole. Nobody knows, stop freaking out.”


You
knew as soon as you saw me.”

I shuddered, thinking about getting off that awkward plane ride with JJ and my father. Margo and Chloe had met us in the hangar, and Margo’s eyes went wide as soon as she saw my face.

“Bitch you didn’t,” she whispered, pulling me off to the side. “But it’s all over your face.” She moved my hair to the side before I could smack her hand away. “And your neck! You did, didn’t you?!”

What was I going to do, lie in my friend’s face?

Not an option.

“Because I’ve known you forever. You haven’t had the good dick glow
since
college.”

“And it took your college beau to bring it back,” Naima teased. “And don’t tell me you’re still on that “undefined” mess with him.”

I huffed. “As a matter of fact, I am. I just don’t want to jinx anything. We’re taking it slow.”

Margo shook her head as she dropped into a seat across from my desk. “Girl, you’re crazy. When Jordan gets back here, I’m going to be giving him paperwork for a
very
lucrative new endorsement deal. You didn’t hear it from me, but his stock is about to shoot through the roof. You may want to go ahead and lock him down, before one of these professional wife wannabes gets their hooks in him.”

“I’m not letting that scare me. If Jordan and I are supposed to be, we will. But I need to be sure before I make anything official. I’m risking a lot.”

Naima rolled her eyes. “We know, we know. Your job, your reputation, blah blah. I think
you
care more than anybody else does.”

“Maybe that would be true, if I worked in another position. But I’ll be negotiating his contract. His future with this team. It’s bad enough that his agent is one of my best friends. You really think
nobody
is going to care that a player’s girlfriend is deciding how much of the team’s salary budget is going to him? I can think of about fifty football players who will care a
lot.
And besides that – do I think my father would fire me for this? Probably not. But I think I would get heavily scolded, and that it would change his perception of me. The whole organization’s perception.
Cole Richardson is the girl who fucks players
. The treatment I get
now
is bad enough.”

Margo reached across the desk, covering her hand with mine. “I get it. I deal with some of that too, as a female sports agent. I actually think you’re smart to consider that angle, for when your relationship goes public. But… none of that has
shit
to do with you making it official with him. So what’s the
real
reason?”

I scowled as I pulled my hand away, annoyed that she was making me face such questions, when I didn’t have an answer that most would find acceptable.

Naima chuckled. “Don’t look so stricken. Margo is just messing with you. We know your ass is scared. We don’t know
why
you’re so scared, but we know you are.”

For a long moment, I didn’t say anything. I just considered the question.

When I took away my concerns about my job, about my reputation, all of that… what
was
I really afraid of?

The same things that every woman is.

Hurt.

Betrayal.

Loving the hell out of someone who doesn’t love you back.

Embarrassment.

Loss.

I’d grown up in this world of football, and even as a young girl, seen
so
much of that. Flashed across the TV, live and in-color. I’d heard the conversations over poker and cigars when I was supposed to be asleep, but was hiding and listening instead. I’d seen wives and girlfriends discarded, left with nothing but a child support check and a few kids, while the player moved on to someone else. I’d witnessed that devastation first hand – had
managed
it, so my player could focus on the field instead of the girlfriend grieving their relationship, wanting him back.

I never wanted to feel that.

But I
did
want Jordan.

Which left me not knowing what the hell to do.

“Can we talk about something else?” I asked, shaking my head. “You guys already have your tickets for this ball, right? It’s tomorrow night.”

Naima cut her eyes toward the ceiling. “Yes, you’ve only asked about 50 times. Do you have your dress yet? Did you coordinate with Jordan?”

“No, I did
not
,” I scolded. “I did let Jessmyn do my dress though, even though I already had one. It’s being delivered tomorrow. And the team gets back tomorrow afternoon, right on time to get ready.”

“Mmmhmm. Are you bringing a date to make Jordan jealous? Or is he bringing one to make
you
jealous?” Margo asked.

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t even get jealous like that, first of all. Second, no, neither of us is bringing a date. But I can’t wait for him to see me in this dress.”

 

 

Damn it.

Later that night, I climbed into bed early, frustratingly horny and restless. I was sure the event was going to go fine, but for some reason… I just felt unsettled.

After about an hour of useless tossing and turning, trying to calm my mind, I climbed out of bed and went to my closet, pulling out the dress I’d let Jessmyn talk me into.

I’d denied it when she basically accused me of being back with Jordan, but if I were completely honest with myself… I enjoyed it. And I was fully comfortable convincing myself that it was only because it was Jess.

Since the first time we met, I was charmed by Jordan’s little sister, with her pretty mahogany skin, trademark Johnson dimples, and audacious personality. She could talk, and talk, and
talk
, but it was somehow never annoying, and I loved the fact that she doted on her big brother. If
anybody
could claim the title of his biggest cheerleader, it would definitely be her.

And, the girl was talented.

I preferred a little bit more of a classic style, but admired her bold flair. It was only through her assurance that I was wearing a slinky Kings gold gown that almost looked like it was made of liquid. The neckline was modest, showing only my collarbone and neck, held up by miniscule straps that looped around my shoulders. The fabric clung to my body, showing every curve I had, and the back was… nonexistent. My shoulder blades and back were completely exposed, down to an inch above what would be downright indecent.

I
loved
it when I put it on – and so would Jordan.

I took the dress out of the garment bag to look at, imagining how he would react when he saw me in it. The only thing I
could
do was suppress an embarrassed smile as my skin flushed, just thinking about his eyes on me, imagining what was underneath.

Wow.

Here I was again, not even thinking like my normal self. Me, dressing for a man’s enjoyment?
Please.
The idea was laughable.

Only… not so much anymore.

I shook my head at myself, and put my dress back in the bag to hang up. As I climbed into bed, I pulled my phone from the charger, and began clearing the new notifications that had piled up.

My heart slammed to the front of my chest as Jordan’s name crossed my screen in headline after headline from gossip blogs. Immediately, my brain went into panic mode, wondering what could have happened.

He was supposed to be just celebrating the win the team had managed without him, thanks to Trent’s skill. What kind of trouble could he have gotten into?

I took a deep breath, calming myself enough to actually process what I was seeing on my screen. Hot tears of embarrassment welled in my eyes as I read the headlines, then went through the accompanying pictures one by one.

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