Booty and the Beast, page 8
But I also remembered how suddenly and terribly Nick had changed. One day we’d been friends, the next, and he’d become an entirely different person—so hellbent on football and the team that he’d done more than ruined a lifelong friendship.
He’d hurt me.
I believed people could change their bodies—fix a mentality, create confidence. But to unblacken a heart? Uncorrupt a soul?
Forgive the past?
I prided myself on my strength, but even I wasn’t strong enough to forget everything that’d happened.
I funneled Mom out the door. “I’ll call you later and fill you in on everything. I promise.”
She kissed my cheek then wetted her thumb to wipe the smudge away.
“Remember what I taught you.” She warned. “Practice safe sex.”
I groaned. “Yes. We’ve had the talk. I know.”
“Not condoms,” she said. “I’m talking engagement rings. You gotta tie that one down.”
Nick waved goodbye. “I prefer handcuffs.”
I pushed her into the hall before she got any ideas.
Then turned the lock to be sure.
Not that it mattered. Mom had three copies of my key, and she had no qualms with distributing them around Ironfield.
But she wasn’t my biggest problem now.
Usually my worst decisions came with an extra scoop of ice cream and a puddle of hot fudge. This one didn’t cost me any calories.
Just my sanity.
Dignity.
Patience.
Nick made himself at home on the couch with a cherry-popping grin.
“I’ve got a couple ground rules for this charade,” he said. “First, we tell people you’re the one who asked me out. Secondly, I go to bed at eleven sharp. Third, I get to be the big spoon.” He winked. “And if my little woman wants to make me breakfast in the morning…I’ll take bacon and eggs.”
“Go to Hell.”
“Rather take you to Heaven.” He savored my irritation with a laugh. “Now, what’s a guy gotta do to consummate this relationship?”
4
Nick
Charisma Cassidy had a body made for loving, a kiss that hit harder than a linebacker, and every intention of skinning me alive.
Which made it perplexing that she’d fucking lie and tell her mother that I was her boyfriend.
A little warning would’ve been nice.
A trip beneath her sheets to ensure we had the right chemistry even better.
“You’re gonna need a pet name.” I sunk deeper into her couch. At least someone finally used it. “Honey? Sweetheart? Snookums?”
She batted my feet off her coffee table. “Don’t start.”
“Well, let me know when we are starting next time, sweet pea.” I shrugged. “I’d like to have a fucking clue about what’s going on.”
“You figured it out quick enough to almost ruin everything.”
“Please, darling. These last fifteen minutes have been my longest ever relationship. Think I’m just gonna throw that away?”
Charisma crossed her arms. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Your Mom bought it.”
Her laugh might’ve been intoxicating if it wasn’t so exhausted.
“Even if you hadn’t looked like…you.” She wove her hand in my direction, and I took the compliment with a nod. “She would’ve been relieved that I had any man in my apartment for once.”
“You’re sending very mixed signals,” I said.
“And you’re sending one—the wrong one.”
The woman gave me whiplash without the courtesy of some leather straps or handcuffs.
“First you want me, then you need a favor, now you’re mad because I get a little naked,” I said.
She huffed. “You know goddamned well nothing is little about you when you’re naked.”
That I liked to hear. “Glad you noticed.”
“Hard not to.”
“Gets harder when you do.”
Charisma was the sort of girl who’d never admit that I got her flustered.
I’d have to do it again.
She spun away and paced the room. “What possessed you to get naked?”
The real question was why I wasn’t naked again.
“I figured it was only a matter of time before I got you in bed,” I said. “Wanted to save some time for the heat of the moment.”
Charisma sucked in an irritated breath. “Okay, meathead. I’m going to spell this out for you. I do not like you.”
“You kissed me.”
“So?”
I frowned. “Generally, that means a girl wants a guy.”
“Well, this girl wanted that guy to suffer a little. Taste a bit of the fruit he’ll never get to bite.”
“Should’ve told me if you wanted me to nibble on your ear…or anywhere else.”
“That’s the last thing I want.”
I leaned forward, regretting that I hadn’t grabbed my phone to take notes. “Well, what’s the first thing? I take suggestions very well.”
Charisma pretended she wasn’t interested. “Let’s put it this way…you came in my life at the right time.”
“I didn’t get to come at all.”
“And you won’t.” She took a perverse joy in that. “Not with me. Not ever.”
“And here I thought we made a lovely couple.”
“That’s the brilliant part,” she said. “We do. And we will. Because if you want that try-out with the Rivets, you’re gonna do exactly as I say. We’re a couple. We’re in love. And even if this is the biggest mistake of my life, at least I’ll get a few weeks reprieve from my mother and her obsession with the real-life Bachelorette.”
I could think of worse mistakes.
Running with the wrong crowds in high school and hurting an innocent girl? Mistake.
Getting into a car crash the summer before college and blowing out my knee and losing my scholarship to Penn State University? Mistake.
But getting under Charisma’s skin to get under her covers? I could deal with that.
I rose from the couch, delighting in how difficult it seemed for her to avert her gaze from my bare chest. Couldn’t say I had the same restraint. I’d held the woman in my arms. Savored her heat. Tasted her unbridled hatred of me.
A man didn’t easily forget the greatest kiss of his life. And a real man tried to do one better again and again and again…
“You know, sugar…your mother isn’t the best at setting you up,” I said.
Charisma snorted. “She did better a couple years ago. But, once I exhausted every eligible bachelor in Ironfield, she made a habit of hunting the single scene’s bargain bins. She’s shopping for men like she’d hunt for discount jeans—who cares if there’s three pockets and no zipper in the crotch. Just means there’s more room for a wallet and less work in the bedroom.”
“So that’s the secret.”
She sighed. “You just witnessed the insanity that is Mom’s apocalyptically terrible speed dating machinations.”
“This happens often?”
“She excels at three things—singing, cooking, and concocting socially awkward situations.”
This I had witnessed firsthand. “So, what was your plan, princess? Convince your mom that you already had a boyfriend so she’d leave you alone?”
“Exactly.”
“And you picked me for this bullshit why?”
“Because you needed me…and you were conveniently located.”
I frowned. “Being a receiver, I should’ve realized that there’s always a catch.”
Charisma took great delight in tormenting me. “Plus I had a better use for you than casting you out into the street with a pair of blue-balls.”
“And this is supposed to convince me to help you lie to your family?”
“Yep.”
She didn’t make the offer very enticing. “And you thought I would agree, sight unseen, to be your fake boyfriend?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re a wicked little love muffin.”
Charisma rubbed her face and hid behind her toasted almond fingers. Her curls bounced as she shook her head.
“No more pet names, please?”
I grinned. “Not even love bug?”
“How about partner?”
“Boring.”
“Would you rather husband?”
Damn. The woman moved quick. Good thing I was faster.
“I’ll get my shirt, and we can go pick out the china patterns,” I said.
“I’m warning you.” She tapped her index finger against her lips. “Don’t make those jokes. My mother can sense engagements. You say the word marriage three times while looking in the mirror, she’s gonna pop out like Bloody Mary holding a bridal bouquet and veil.”
“She can’t be that bad.”
“She brought three strange men to my apartment tonight.” Charisma had always fiddled with her hair when she got agitated. Hadn’t changed since high school. She coiled a single curl around her finger and tugged. “She’s obsessed. Literally obsessed. She’s always pushing me to find someone—and if she believes I’m not looking hard enough, she takes it upon herself to scour the city for me.”
I could think of worse things than a parent trying to take care of their child. Must’ve been nice.
“And how’s that working out?” I asked.
“Last month she set me up with two guys. Combined, their ages totaled one hundred and thirty-one years.” She waved me away when I started counting on my fingers. “The first guy had a coronary when I took my jacket off—apparently shirts never got that low cut in 1880.”
“Breaking hearts and hips on the same night.”
“And you’d think she’d learn not to meddle, but she won’t stop until I’m waiting at the church on my wedding day. If the groom is there of his own free will, so be it. If not? She’ll find a pair of handcuffs and shackle the first man she sees to the altar.”
I nodded. “So…why is she doing this?”
“Because I haven’t been humiliated enough.”
“You’re humiliated? I’m the asshole who was caught naked by my girlfriend’s mother.”
She plunked down on the couch next to me, bringing her legs in close. I hated her heavy sigh.
“She thinks I’m wasting my new body.”
Oh.
Charisma rocked a slim, trim, and thoroughly blue-balling body that begged for a little attention and got off on denying it. And yet, she had no ring on her finger. No male toiletries in her bathroom. No guys calling to take her out for a real drink instead of gagging on what collected at the bottom of the lawn mower bag.
“How would you be wasting it?” I asked.
Charisma had a lot of attitude to drop, and once it hit the ground, it exploded like a damned bomb. She puffed a hard breath of air from her lips and mimicked the same gesture I’d used at the bar to demonstrate how big she’d once been.
“You remember what I looked like,” she said. “I lost the weight right after high school, but I haven’t dated much. Didn’t need to. I’ve been so focused on myself and feeling good and eating right and then getting this job. You have no idea how great this career can be for me.”
“Working for the Rivets?” I raised my eyebrows. “Know who you’re talking to?”
“I don’t want to blow this chance, so I’m working as hard as possible with the team. But that means no time for romance. And Mom is afraid that I’ll balloon up again before I meet a man. Use it or lose it.”
I stretched my arms on the back of the couch. “I can help you use it.”
“Oh, I have a better use for you.”
“Hope it’s dirty.”
“You’re not that lucky.”
“I’ve gotten along fine without any luck.” Or support. Or friends. Or family. “What I get, I earn through hard work, sweat, and my own damned charm.”
“You make trying to seduce me sound so noble.”
“I have the clearest of intentions,” I said. “Work hard. Exercise harder. And take the hot girl with the right connections to bed for a night of shameless, animalistic fucking.”
Charisma stood just to face me down. Figured she would’ve learned her lesson by now, but the woman wandered right into arm’s reach.
“First,” she said. “You are not seducing me.”
“You’re right…you’re the one who came onto me.”
“You’re the one who kissed me.”
“You kissed back.”
“No.” She wagged a finger. “I was yelling profanities at you. You happened to muffle them with your mouth.”
“So…why was your tongue in my mouth?”
Her eyebrow arched. “Because yours took up all the room in mine.”
I licked my lips. “Say the word, kitten. I’ll find a better place to put my tongue.”
“How about in your own apartment?”
Easier said than done. Pretty sure I still had a couple days left on my hotel reservation if the credit card held out.
Which was a pretty dangerous if.
Charisma didn’t back away as I approached, but I expected nothing less. Something about that cute little pout was enough to drive a man crazy.
“I know you want me.” I spared her the foreplay and leapt right to the good stuff. “And I want you too. What better way to reconcile our differences than balls deep under the sheets?”
“How romantic.”
“You want romance, baby? I’ll bring the wine and chocolates.”
The woman’s scowl only deepened, and it amused me more. Fucking with her might’ve been as fun as actually fucking her.
“Listen to me, Nick Hart, because this is the last time I’ll be saying it,” she said. “We both have something we want. I will get you that try-out for the Rivets, but you gotta work with me. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so that my mother stops invading every aspect of my life.”
I grinned. “If she’s excited about you dating, imagine how thrilled she’d be with grandkids.”
She crossed her arms. “Let’s use the playbook in your head, not your pants. We have something in common.”
“An undeniable attraction to the other?”
She wasn’t playing anymore. “Neither of us have time for love.”
“Whoa.” I laughed. “I never said anything about love. I’m trying to get you into bed.”
“And as flattering as that is, you can’t afford to fool around now. Especially if you’re serious about this try-out.”
I’d made it this far. Sure as hell wasn’t giving up now.
I dropped the smile, the act, and everything but my pants.
“You have no idea how badly I want that try-out,” I said. “I’ll make the team.”
She didn’t believe me. That was fine. No one did.
The only thing I loved as much as football was proving everyone wrong.
“I’m around these guys every single day.” She at least tried to gentle her warning. “There’s a huge difference between college and pro players. Hell, between first string and second. I’ve never seen anyone make a try-out and do more than practice squad.”
“Until me.”
She huffed. “And then what? If by some miracle they allow you to come to training camp, your life will be 24/7 football. And so will mine. Those six weeks are the most hectic, fast-paced, mind-numbing constant disaster of our lives. I’ll have an entire fleet of men I’ll need to get into peak physical condition—diets and calories and meal planning and nutritional needs and allergies and special considerations for injuries and recoveries and body building and cutting. And you…” She shrugged at me. “Even if you have that snowball’s chance in Hell, you’re gonna be run ragged. All day. Every day. Endless work outs and drills and conditioning and meetings and studying. Neither of us will have time to breathe, let alone worry about getting into the other’s bed.”
That sounded perfect. “My life is nothing but training and football. I can manage.”
She smirked. “I figured. That’s why you’re trying so hard with me. Bet you haven’t gotten laid in months.”
She meant it as an insult. But I hadn’t found a woman beautiful enough to earn my attention. It took a hell of a pretty face, smart mouth, and unrivaled attitude to distract me from the game.
But Charisma was just the sort of trouble a guy like me would risk.
“You’re right.” No sense denying it. “I’ve been bouncing city-to-city, gym-to-gym, trainer-to-trainer searching for an opportunity to play. Can you blame me for trying my luck when a lovely woman is practically begging for my cock?”
Her razor gaze sliced me head to toe. “And when did I beg?”
“Maybe not with your words,” I teased. “But I’m sure there’s a part of you dripping with anticipation.”
“Oh. I think I’ll survive. Don’t know about you though. If you’re this hard-up during a fight, I can’t imagine how you’re gonna suffer when we’re in close proximity…” She drew near, reaching for my hand. “Hugging. Touching. Holding me in your arms.”
That familiar tightness in my pants became a curse. “Hadn’t thought about that.”
“You’ll have to make this relationship look convincing.”
“How can I? You said it yourself—it’s been months. I’m out of practice.”
“Poor baby.”
“Maybe we should run a couple drills. You strip. I’ll get the lube.”
“Are you that bad at sex that you think we’ll need lube?”
“We will for what I have planned.”
Charisma laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, big boy. We only need to pretend for a few weeks. After that, we’ll go our separate ways.”
How would that help? “Won’t your mom start man-hunting again?”
“Nope.” Charisma’s grin was proud, conniving, and absolutely enthralling. “All Mom cares about is me finding a guy. And since I doubt you’re the type to settle down and have a family…”
“Wouldn’t mind making the family.”
“Then we can’t keep up the charade for long. The only way to keep her a bay is if I’m no longer looking for a boyfriend—either because I already have one…or because I simply cannot get over my last.”
