Dirty Play:Sports Romance(14)

"This will be simple." Dr. Jones picked up one of the syringes from the tray. "First, I'll numb the area with an anesthetic."

I nodded, appreciative there would be some pain relief involved. My hand hadn't stopped hurting all week.

"Next, I'll insert the gel with a larger needle. I'll use the ultrasound  camera to guide the needle between the bones." He pointed to the  suspension system hanging overhead. I looked up to see a lens pointed at  my hand.

"All right."

"Once the gel has penetrated the area, I'll start with the first round  of HGH. We'll begin a regimen at a high dosage, and I'll show you how to  administer the rest at home."

It sounded standard and practical. It sounded exactly like what I should  have done the instant the linebacker crunched my hand. But then I  thought of Lennon. And how I wouldn't have met her. How I wouldn't be in  whatever I was in with her if I didn't end up in her OR.

"Go for it. I'm ready to get this hand back together."

"Just lie back. Try to relax and we'll begin." Dr. Jones certainly  didn't have the same bedside manner as my surgeon. I closed my eyes and  pictured her hair falling around my face. I tried to block out the  stabbing needles poking through broken bones. I focused on her breath in  my ear. The sounds she made when she clenched around my cock. God, she  was everything I needed.

An hour later, Dr. Jones squeezed my shoulder. "I'm finished."

I opened my eyes. "That's it?"

He nodded, handing me an opaque white bag. "You have two weeks worth of  syringes inside. They are pre-measured. I still think you're rushing it a  little if you expect to play in two weeks, but it's possible."         

     



 

"That's all I need to hear." I hopped off the table. "Thanks, Doc."

"I guess we don't need to say anything else?"

I shook my head. "No. Everything is understood." His career was as much  at stake as was mine. One whiff of this and I'd be out of the league,  and he'd lose every client he had, as well as his medical license.

I left his office, my hand numb, but my mind optimistic the Wranglers were back in contention for the Super Bowl.





Fourteen





Lennon





Twelve-hour shifts were long, but they felt like an eternity when I knew  Wes was waiting for me on the other end. I scooted out of the hospital  before one of the nurses could catch me and drag me back in to check on a  patient. My pager was on. I was available for an emergency, I told  myself.

I had enough time to peel off my scrubs, shower, and make it to Wes's  for dinner if I drove quickly and took a shortcut through the city.

For the first time since I had moved to San Antonio, I was kicking  myself for not shopping. I'd worn the only sexy thing I had in my closet  Saturday night. Other than jeans and a dozen tank tops, I was out of  fashionable clothes. This man was used to going out with super models  and cheerleaders. Every woman I had seen on his arm was paid to look  amazing. Me, I was a surgeon. My fashion consisted of scrubs and a wide  variety of yoga pants.

I shuffled through the hangers in my closet, knowing nothing was going  to make me happy. I wanted to stun him. Wow him. Seduce him with another  gorgeous dress, but I couldn't make those clothes magically appear. I  settled on a pair of fitted jeans and a tank top that hugged my breasts.

I grabbed my keys and left for his place. This still felt unbelievable.  We had another date. I never did anything on a Tuesday night.

He opened the door, grinning so wide my knees almost buckled. How could one man ooze sex appeal like that?

"Hey, Doc."

"Hi." Every part of my body told me to throw myself on him and jump in  his arms, but I held back. Even if I knew I was hopeless, he didn't have  to know it.

I walked over the threshold, feeling happiness surge through me to be  back here again. I hadn't seen him since my rush to work yesterday  morning, and I already missed him. Thirty-six hours was a reasonable  amount of time to miss someone, right?

The door closed. "You look beautiful."

I spun on my heels to face him. "I'm out of black dresses."

He ran a finger along my shoulder. "I think you're sexy in everything."

I blushed. The lines were good. I ate them up. "Are we going out?" I  asked. When Wes called, I didn't hear much other than he wanted to see  me tonight.

"Do you want to go out?" He let his finger slide from my shoulder along my collarbone.

I didn't want to go anywhere. I wanted to kiss him and run my hands  through his hair and feel his hard body pin mine to the table. I wanted  his tongue and his hands and his cock.

"Yeah, let's go out," I answered. "Unless you think we shouldn't." I  remembered wherever he went, he was photographed. Maybe he didn't want  to be seen with me, the non-super model.

"Why shouldn't we? We both know the night's going to end up the same way. We should eat."

"And how is it going to end?" I challenged.

"With me buried deep inside you and you screaming my name while I fuck you so hard you think we'll both ignite."

Oh God. My legs wobbled. I couldn't form words. I needed a witty retort.  Something sarcastic and quick, but the image he painted played over and  over. Maybe I wanted that instead of food.

He held the door open for me. "Ready?"

I nodded. He had stolen every word right from my mouth.







The restaurant served Tex-Mex and enormous margaritas. I licked the salt on the edge of the glass. Wes smiled at me.

"How was work today?" he asked.

I stifled a laugh.

"What?"

"It's just such a normal question. You really want to know about what I did at the hospital today?"

"Sure. Tell me. Save a life?"

"As a matter of fact, I helped a man walk again." The tequila tasted  good. I dipped a chip in a bowl of queso. We were still looking over the  menus.

"That's fucking awesome."

I looked around to see if anyone had heard him. Wes didn't seem to care what language he used or where he was when he used it.

"Thanks. It was pretty awesome. What about your day?"

"Me? Not much. We have a bye week. That means no game on Sunday," he  explained. "And I can't practice. I spent a few hours at the office,  then hung out at the apartment. Not really comparable to helping a man  walk again."         

     



 

My hand landed on his. "Don't compare what I do to what you do. You're  basically a god in this city. No one cares if I stitch bones back  together."

"Until they're the ones who need you." He leaned closer. "And I sure as hell needed you."

I felt a rush of adrenaline shoot down my spine. "You know people are staring at us."

He nodded. "They always stare when I go out. And I guarantee our picture  is already on every social media site." He kissed me long and hard  until I had to break away to breathe.

"What was that for?"

"If they're going to take pictures, might as well give them something hot." He winked at me.

My heart was still pounding, and he had awakened that deep ache between  my legs. I took another sip of the cold margarita. I tried to be casual  and not look around at the cell phones snapping pictures of us, or  listen to the whispers at the table one over from ours.

"You really live like this?"

"Always have. Growing up in a small town and being the first quarterback to take the team to state, it started early."

"And you don't mind the invasion of privacy?"

"Comes with the territory. If this is the price of winning, I'm okay with that."

I was stunned. I could think of lots of tradeoffs that would make this difficult.

"Why is winning so important to you, Wes?"

"Is there anything else?"

I folded my menu in half and placed it on the table. "I hope so."

"Don't tell me you're going to lecture me on the meaning of life and how there's more to life than winning a game?"

"I don't think I have to. You just told yourself." The layers of ambition ran deeper in him than most men.

"This is what I do. I win. I compete. And I don't let anything stand in my way. You should know that now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now before … "

"Before what? Before we go home tonight and you fuck me again like  promised?" I was getting mad. I couldn't help it. I was seeing his  arrogant quarterback side. The side I had read about online.

"That's not what I was going to say." He lowered his voice. "I was talking about this. Us."

"Oh. Us?" My tone softened. Was there an us? It had only been a few days since that night in his apartment.

"I guess I need to say something, Doc. Ask you something."

"Okay."

"I need to know you're not seeing anyone else."

"Me? You're worried about me dating someone?" I almost laughed, but he  looked dead serious and his green eyes were fixed on mine.

"Yeah, that's not going to work for me." He shook his head. "I need a straight answer."