My (Mostly) Secret Baby: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy(56)

Trevor noticed us. “Ready for the match?” he called to Edgar.

Edgar gave a thumbs up.

For the next hour, we sat in the perfect evening air watching a private showing of amazing tennis. Neither player held back, and I even forget I was sitting next to Damon a time or two.

I did keep catching him stealing glances my way. I grinned, then bumped my knee into his. “Pretty proud of yourself for this one, aren’t you?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

Trevor swore under his breath and spiked a ball into the net in front of us, drawing a laugh from Edgar.

“It depends on whether this worked.”

“Well,” I said, tilting my head toward him. “I need to know what your goal was before I can say if it worked.”

Damon, paying no mind to anyone else, slid a hand up my knee to my inner thigh. My insides practically exploded with need. I pressed my thighs together, putting my hand on his and checking to see if anyone had seen. “Damon!” I whispered.

He didn’t take his eyes from my legs for a few long, heart-pounding moments. When he looked up, I thought he was about to tear my clothes off right there. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“It has barely been twenty-four hours. How impatient are you?” I asked.

“For you? About as patient as my brother at a Broadway play.”

“Chris isn’t a fan of Broadway?” I asked. I was stalling. A very distinct part of me still wanted to absorb every second of tennis that was playing out in front of me. Another part of me wanted to buy time—to think. But thinking when his hand was between my legs and his eyes were driving straight through my soul was a little easier said than done.

“Chris once asked if we could bribe the director to fast forward to the third act.”

“So what you’re saying is you want to bone me. Badly.”

“Those aren’t the words I’d use.”

“Which words would you use?” I asked. God, I felt so embarrassingly turned on. I could’ve almost—almost—been convinced to try to kiss him, just because I was craving more of his touch that badly. Except I’d been permanently scarred with my middle school boyfriend in seventh grade. He’d held my hand in the hallway and the dean had yanked our hands apart before yelling, “P.D.A.!” Of course, everyone laughed their asses off at us, and I swore on everything holy that I’d never engage in a public display of affection again.

“Which words…” Damon’s eyes looked heavy. Hungry. They skidded across my features and his full lips parted. “I’d tell you that I want to fuck you until you feel me all day tomorrow. I’d say I want to mark you. I want to kiss your neck until it bruises so nobody else has to wonder if you’re taken. And I want to taste you again. Every fucking inch.”

“I see,” I said, gulping. “I guess that’s a little more descriptive than saying you want to bone me.”





35





Damon





Chelsea personally thanked the tennis players when they’d finished their match. I had to grit my teeth when she shook Trevor Castle’s hand. I could just imagine how he still wanted a shot with her, and it made me want to slam him up against another wall.

It was stupid, I knew. A deep, uncontrollable protectiveness had been building inside me for Chelsea. I had five years to make up for. Five years that she’d been struggling to work multiple jobs. Five years of sacrifices to protect her daughter. Our daughter.

I owed her the world, and I was only just beginning to feel it sink in.

Still, I behaved. I didn’t say a word as she had a quick and casual conversation with the players and their coaches.

Chelsea followed me out of the tennis courts when they were done.

Trish Jameson was waiting outside the court with Tia Klein when we emerged. Both women looked smug.

I put one hand in front of Chelsea, almost as if I expected them to try to pounce on her. “Who told you we were here?” I demanded.

Tia raised her hand and eyebrows. “Turns out your staff is extremely horny and open to persuasion. I practically just had to breathe on your security guard to get access to your agenda.”

“Do I want to know why either of you are here?”

“Probably not,” Trish said. “But Tia is going to be working with me from now on. I figured I’d have the same conversation with Trevor once we’re done here, too.”

I clenched my teeth. My brother’s situation had been deteriorating with his team. In other words, Rose Athletic needed faces like Tia Klein and Trevor Castle. I’d be lying if I said losing both wouldn’t be a serious blow. “What’s this really about, Trish?”

She smirked. “The same thing it has always been about. You don’t deserve the things you have. I do. So I’ll take them, and I’ll keep taking them until I’m satisfied.”

I shook my head. Before I could speak, Chelsea pushed forward.

“We’d like to see you try, bitch.”

Easy there, Killer. “How about this,” I suggested. “You keep trying to do whatever is you’re doing, and we’ll continue not giving a shit. Sound fair?”

Trish scoffed. “You can pretend all you want, Damon. I know this is hurting your bank account.”