The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel(18)

“Michael Langley’s office.”

“Hi. This is Delilah Maddox. Is Michael available?”

“Oh, hi Delilah. No. Actually, he’s out at a meeting this afternoon. Can I take a message?”

“Sure. Can you . . . ” Brody’s comment replayed in my head. “Actually, I was calling to thank him for sending some flowers. But I probably should actually be thanking you. I’m sure he had you send the beautiful arrangement that came today.”

“I can’t take all the credit. He did tell me what to put on the card.” She chuckled, innocently acknowledging something that shouldn’t have mattered. Yet, it did for some reason.

“Well, thank you, and please let him know I called to thank him as well.”

“I’ll let him know.”

I sat in my office, staring out into space for a while after I hung up. A knock at the door startled me.

“Delilah Maddox?”

“Yes?” The deliveryman held a large white box wrapped with a giant blue-and-yellow bow. Long-stem roses now?

“These are for you.”

He placed the box on my desk and left. I slipped off the bow, taking note that the colors were the Steel team colors. Unwrapping the white tissue paper inside, I expected to find a dozen long-stem roses. Instead, the box was filled with long sticks—tree branches—a dozen or so, tied by a bow that matched the one on the outside. The card that accompanied the delivery was in Brody’s handwriting. I recognized it from the message he’d left me on the footballs.

In case you want to make s'mores.

Thinking of you. ~Brody (P.S. The thoughts are dirty)





Chapter 9


Delilah

I felt like I was going on a first date. I glanced at the clock almost as many times as I changed my outfit Thursday evening. The thing was . . . it wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting. With a guy I’d already flat-out declined an invitation for sex from. A guy I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to have sex with. What exactly was the right wardrobe for such an event?

Giving in to my wild hair, I left it down, unruly curls tumbling halfway down my back. I ransacked my closet, searching for something that was business-smart, yet attractive without being overtly sexy. Settling for a black pencil skirt and a red form-fitting button-up shirt, I added a few chunky bracelets, slipped on a pair of strappy sandals that wrapped around my ankles and took one last look in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. The weather was still warm enough for bare legs, and the high heel of my open shoe extended my already long legs, making them look even longer. I liked what I saw. Who knew I could pull off smart with a touch of sexy? Now if only I could pull off pretending I wasn’t attracted to the arrogant ass.

Right at five, I lifted my hand to knock on the penthouse suite, and the door swung open, leaving my knuckles rapping on air. A beautiful young brunette greeted me wearing a very cropped shirt and second-skin leggings. Half of her tiny waist was on display, and her voice was cheerleaderish peppy. “Hey,” she yelled over her shoulder, bouncing on her heels, “your appointment is here, Brody. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Still smiling, she stepped aside for me to enter and left me with, “I wore him out pretty good, hope it doesn’t mess up whatever you plan to do with him.”

Confused, I hesitated just inside the door as it closed behind me. Brody walked into the room, looking freshly showered in low-hanging sweats and no shirt. His hair was wet and slicked back. Damn.

“Hey.” His eyes made a slow sweep of my body, and he stopped in his tracks a few feet away from me. “Wow. You look—”

My body grew warmer from the heat in his eyes. He unabashedly took his time before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “So, how does this work? Friends can’t tell friends how they look?”

“Of course they can. Friends can give compliments.”

His eyes gleamed. “Good. You look good enough to eat.”

God, it really has been too long. My body tightened, and I had to swallow my breath to keep a small gasp from slipping out. Pink rose on my cheeks at the picture he’d just planted in my brain. I could visualize myself looking down at those broad shoulders as he ate me. Somehow I knew it wouldn’t be slow and tender licking and sucking. No, this man would devour me whole.

“I didn’t hear you come in. I needed a quick shower after Brittany. That woman might be small, but she’s demanding as shit. Worked me over good today.”

Abruptly, the switch flipped off. Nothing like talking about his sexcapades with another woman to cool off my raging libido. “Wonderful. I’m glad you’ve taken care of your needs. Perhaps we can skip the games and go straight to work this evening, then?” My tone came out a bit snide.

Brody’s eyebrows knitted. He walked toward me, not stopping until he was invading my personal space. I was still just inside the suite, and the door was only a foot or two behind me. The urge to take a step or two back was great, but I held my ground.

“No games. There’s nothing more I’d like to do than take you up against that door right now. And the fact that you just got jealous of Brittany, my physical therapist, proves that I’m not off-base. You want me inside of you as much as I want to bury myself. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself . . . ” He craned his neck down so we were nose to nose. “Yet. But you will.”