Dirty Game:A Secret Baby Sports Romance(4)

I shivered and inadvertently scooted closer to Blake.

He continued with the tale. "So, the legend goes that the blinking  yellow light is him still trying to swim to shore, but no one can ever  catch up to it because of the currents."

"Holy shit. It's still the creepiest thing I've ever heard." Ok, maybe I  was a little scared. I had forgotten all of the tragic stories from the  ocean.

"You want me to show you?" Blake placed his hand on the gearshift, ready to maneuver the boat toward the lantern's light.

"Definitely."

He laughed and gave me a killer smile that made me glad I'd boarded his boat.

"Hey, Cole." He called up front, but his cousin was busy sleeping off his beers.

I lightly bit at my lower lip. Something about the way Blake took  command of the boat as he stood and steered toward the golden light  without reservation made me look at him the way I used to. It was kind  of hot.

"Almost there," he shouted over the wind.                       
       
           



       

I peered over the console, trying to keep my eyes on the target. The  closer we got, the weaker the color was. I squinted harder as Blake  slowed the boat.

"Where did it go? It should be here." I stood, looking over the side of the boat.

"Over there." Blake pointed three hundred yards east.

Blake reached down and let his hand rest on my shoulder. "I think that's  enough ghost hunting for one night. What do you say I take you home?"

Surprised by the heat that stemmed from my shoulder, I smiled. "Sounds good."

"Hold on up there!" Blake shouted before throwing the boat into full gear and pointing it toward Aunt Lindy's pier.





6





Blake





I dropped Sierra off on her aunt's pier and didn't even look over my  shoulder. I wasn't supposed to care if she made it inside the house, or  if she even fell over into the dark waters.

It was stupid relieving old high school pranks about ghost stories and shit that was from the past.

I chugged the last of my beer and steered us back. Cole could wake up in  the morning to a neck full of mosquito bites. I left him snoring on the  bow and hopped off.

I didn't know if I could shake it. If I could pretend she wasn't here. I drove home with fireworks exploding overhead.

My palm slammed into the steering wheel. My summer was fucked. The peace  I needed off the field to be the warrior I needed to be on the field  was fucked. The last shred of solitude I had found in my life was fucked  because Sierra Emory had decided to come home.

It didn't matter she hadn't been seen here in eight years. She never visited her aunt. I heard she didn't even make the funeral.

And now what? She thought she could parade that tight ass into one of Shirley's parties and all would be forgiven?

No one around here cared she was some kind of hot as shit reporter in  Dallas. Money didn't impress islanders. Neither did fame. Hard work did.  Loyalty. Family. She'd fucked all that up.

And it was time someone told her she didn't belong on this island.

I drove deeper through the winding streets until I parked outside of the two-story Victorian house.

It had been in Sierra's family for over a hundred years. The islanders  said Aunt Lindy's father was crazy when he built it. They said it  wouldn't withstand a hurricane or even a nor'easter, but here it was,  still standing.

I glared at the white siding and the drain pipe next to the upstairs  bedroom. I'd helped Sierra sneak out more than once using the metal as a  ladder.

I slammed the truck door, marching up the back stairs. They creaked under my weight.

"Sierra!" I pounded on the door. "Sierra. Open up."

I heard the lock rattle and then she appeared on the other side of the screen. Her face glistened with tears.

What the fuck?

"What are you doing here?" She wiped at her cheeks with her fingertips.

"Why are you crying?" My shoulders were tense. My neck strained. I had walked up here with a mission to put her straight.

She shook her head. "It's nothing. Stupid nostalgia I guess."

"Nostalgia, huh?" I crossed my arms. It was fucking ironic is what it was.

"What's wrong? Why are you banging on the door?"

"I thought we needed to get a few things straight."

"Like what?"

"Are you going to let me in?" The screen door was a barrier between us.

Her hand rested on the latch and suddenly the door was open and I was inside the old house.

There were boxes everywhere. Half the furniture was covered in sheets.

The place was depressing.

There was a light on in the kitchen. Sierra leaned against the wooden  countertop. "What is it? Did you show up to tell me more ghost stories?  Because believe me, I have enough to last the rest of my life."

"No. No ghost stories. But seeing you is like living one."

"Ouch." She lowered her eyes. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

The anger flowed through my blood like hot lava. Did she have any idea what she'd done to me? Did she know what she'd cost me?

"Too long." I clenched my teeth.

"Now that you've said it," her pale blue eyes lifted to mine, "you can go, Blake."

"You can't throw me out."

"Yes, I can. It might have been nice for two seconds to cruise around  the island and hang out with Cole, but clearly that's not going to work  between us."

"No. It's not." I took a step toward her. The light behind her cast her  into a dark shadow, but I could still see the tears glistening on her  cheeks.

"So leave then. Let me be miserable on my own. Can't you do that?"                       
       
           



       

I stopped in front of her and inhaled the air around us. I could smell  her perfume. Her shampoo. I could almost taste the strawberry lip gloss  that she'd used to wear on her lips.

"I'm not going until I've said what I have to say," I growled.

Her eyes flared. "Then say it and get out."

My hand snaked around her waist, pulling her toward me. In an instant my  lips crashed into hers as she threw her arms around my neck. The kiss  was hot and fiery. Enough to make my cock throb. My tongue found hers  twisting and sliding in a rhythm that was at the same time new and  familiar.

I tugged her hair through my hands, deepening the contact until I heard  that perfect little purr she made. The one I'd never forgotten. The one  that haunted me like a damn siren's song.

My blood raged with heat. My cock throbbed. My hands coasted over her  body. And then I realized I had a chance to fuck Sierra Emory again and  everything went black.





7





Sierra





His hands tangled in my hair and the heat spread from my neck to my  breasts. They perked and hardened as his hand slid under my shirt.

It all happened so fast. I didn't have time to think or feel. Only react to the way Blake knew how to handle my body.

I grabbed at him. Needing contact. Needing warmth. It was the hottest  part of summer, but I had been locked up in this lonely house without  warmth. Without this.

Blake wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. An overbearing, confident,  sexy-as-hell man. His shoulders bulged above me and I felt the hardness  of his erection press into my hip.

I moaned slightly at the impact of it all.

And that's when we broke apart. Like two magnets completely repelled by  each other. Blake stumbled backward and I reached for the countertop to  keep from buckling to the ground.

That kiss never should have happened.

Before I could say anything, he walked to the door, slamming it behind  him. I touched my lips with my fingertips, feeling the burn his mouth  had branded on my skin.

Shit.

I locked the door as he peeled out of the driveway. The wheels sprayed  gravel in every direction. I leaned into the door as if that would  somehow steel me to do the right thing for once.

Since I had been here nothing had gone right. Tonight was just another example.

Everywhere I turned were reminders of how much I had screwed up. I slid to the floor and let the tears follow.

I'd always wanted to tell Blake the truth. I'd always wanted him to  know, but too much time had passed. And then he'd been drafted by the  AFA. Now, he was famous-he was a millionaire. He didn't need an  ex-girlfriend showing up to confess her past sins.

I sobbed into my hands until I knew my face was red and blotchy.

What could he do about it now? What would he say? How would I ever explain what had happened?

I crawled toward the coffee table and grabbed a handful of tissues. I  blew my nose, knowing it was pointless. The tears were going to come  back tenfold.

Just seeing Blake again brought it all back. Every memory. Every moment  we'd spent together. Every shred of glass that pierced my heart.

I'd spent my life putting it all behind me and now I couldn't run  anymore. It was all around me. The lies. The deceit. What I had given  up. How weak I had been. I shook on the floor, letting the sobs wrack my  shoulders harder with each wave of emotion.