Gambling For The Virgin:A Dark Billionaire Romance(176)

I look around, completely in silence, and it doesn't take long for the room to erupt with questions.

"Is it all over between you and Fiona?"

"Are you retiring?"

I don't know what kind of drugs these people are taking, but it must be the good stuff. Retiring-what the actual fuck?

"Everyone, shut the fuck up," I say into the mic, and they all fall  silent at once, as if I've suddenly turned into Satan himself. Good, I  want them to be afraid, because right now I'm fucking pissed.

"As you all know, I'm in a relationship with a woman by the name of  Fiona Barnett," I start, and they all seem to lean forward in  expectation as I drop her name. "I don't know the reason why-nor do I  care-but it seems that all of you decided to gang up on her. She's the  best person I know, and you've decided to ruin her life just because you  might get a spike in audiences and a raise. Well, that stops this  moment. As of now, Fiona is off limits." I let the words hang heavily in  the air, allowing them to sink in before I continue. "If you've got a  problem, you can take it up with me. If you insist on going after Fiona,  I can promise you this: you're going to have a problem. A serious one."

They all stare at me with wide eyes, afraid to even make a question. So  much for their bravery and smugness; now that they're standing right in  front of me, they don't dare defy me.

"One more thing, since you've all turned into football experts overnight  and decided that my career was going downhill, I have one more promise  to make: I'm going to win this year's Super Bowl. That trophy is mine  already; the game is only going to be a formality. Now, excuse me, I  have to go and meet the woman I love."

With that, I just walk past the dumbfounded press and make my way out of  the conference room. My shoes click across the floor, and the silence  is so deep you could hear a pin drop. Yeah, I think these assholes  learned their place, once and for all.

I go straight to the parking lot, a smile on my face. Getting inside my  Aston, I rev up the engine and pull out from my spot, the engine roaring  as loudly as my heart seems to be thumping. I pull into New York's  traffic one minute later, making my way downtown.

When I get to Fiona's building, she's already standing at the entrance,  tears in her eyes. She runs up to me the moment she sees me, and as soon  as I get out of the car, she falls into my arms.

"You asshole," she cries, "couldn't you've told me what you were going to do? I barely slept last night."

"Oh, a little suspense never hurt anyone," I grin, and then pull her  into me and kiss her. "I love you, Fiona. I waited too long to say it,  but I love you. And no way in hell am I allowing anything or anyone to  step between us."

"I love you too," she whispers, looking in my eyes. Her face is a  perfect portrait of happiness, and she looks just as beautiful as when I  first saw her. I close my eyes just for a second, seeing it happen in  my mind's eye all over again: that touchdown pass, her voice in the  crowd, her beautiful face …  She was just a stranger among thousands but,  in that moment, I knew I couldn't just let her walk away.

And I didn't.

"I'm sorry …  about everything," she tells me, but I just place my index finger over her lips.

"That's over, babe. It's in the past," I say, and then pick her up from the floor. With a grin on my face, I kiss her again.

"Now, where to, m'lady?" I tease her. Wherever she tells me to go, I'll  go. I don't care if it's my place, The Ritz, Paris, China, or the North  fucking Pole. I'll go to the ends of the world for her.

"Just take me upstairs," she whispers, lacing her arms around my neck.

"Upstairs sounds perfect," I say, walking across the sidewalk and  carrying her inside the building just in time; at least a dozen news  vans are pulling up in front of the building, cameramen jumping out of  them as if they're part of a SWAT squat.

Without Fiona noticing, I look back over my shoulder, throwing a  menacing glance at the guys mounting their cameras. They sure as hell  are free to do their jobs, as annoying as they may be, but if they step  out of line again …  Well, let's just say that I will stop at nothing.  Nobody messes with my woman.

I put her down the moment we're inside the elevator, and the doors are  still closing when she jumps on me, crushing her mouth against mine and  taking her hands to my chest.

"I could fuck you right here," she tells me, tugging at my shirt in such a way that the fabric might just rip.

"I could fuck you anywhere," I shoot back, pushing her back against the  mirror in the elevator. I pin her arms over her head, kissing her in  abandonment.

Even though I'm sure that I'm going to make my way toward the Super Bowl  (and win the fucking thing), I doubt that it's going to be better than  this moment right now.

I'm the happiest man in the whole fucking planet. And that …  Well, that calls for a celebration. The naked kind.





140





Fiona





My apartment seems like a different place.

Before Danny's surprise press conference, the walls seemed like they  were closing in on me, and the colors were dimmed and lifeless. But now  that I've stepped inside again with Danny by my side, it's almost as if  I've entered a completely different apartment. Sunlight streams through  the drawn curtains, and everything seems bright and shiny. In a way,  everything's exactly the same, but at the same time, everything's  different now. It seems that happiness-and love-really have the power to  change the way you see the world around you.

"That was the sweetest thing anyone ever did for me," I tell him the  moment we're behind closed doors, my eyes locked on his. He smiles at  that, closing the distance between us and placing both of his hands on  my hips.

"I can do more sweet things, you know?" he says, and I'm pretty sure he  isn't talking about breakfast in bed, or flowers on Valentine's Day.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot," I purr, my hands on his chest. I  feel his heartbeat under the palm of my hand, the outline of his rugged  muscles turning my brain into mush. I was terrified that I was going to  lose him, and now here he is, back in my arms. This is my lucky day,  that's for sure.         

     



 

"I love you, Fiona," he whispers, his eyes never leaving mine, and I feel my knees growing weak.

"I love you too," I whisper back at him, these words leaving a sweet  taste in my mouth as they roll over my tongue. Smiling, he leans into  me, and my eyelids droop as I feel his lips on mine. I open my mouth  slowly, his tongue finding its way toward mine, and we kiss in complete  abandonment.

Right now, it's almost as if we are in a world of our own; forget about  the games, forget about the media. We're here, together, and that's the  extent of our whole universe.

"Come here," he says, pulling back from my kiss and picking me up.  Carrying me in his arms, he makes a beeline toward my bedroom and then  lays me down on the bed. I lie back as he climbs on top of me, his mouth  once again fitted against my own. I start unbuttoning his crisp white  shirt as we kiss, my fingers working in a hurry. When the last button  comes undone, I untuck the fabric out of his pants and then push the  shirt down his arms, feeling the ropes of muscles in his arms on the way  down.

I throw the shirt off the bed and then my hands dart toward his crotch. I  flatten the palm of one hand there, and a shiver of anticipation crawls  up my spine as I feel the thick shape of his hard cock tenting his  pants and threatening to rip the fabric on its way out.

"I missed you," I tell him, wrapping my fingers around the hard shape in his pants and squeezing it. "And I missed this."

"Well, I'm here now," he responds, looking at me with a soft smile. "And  I'm not going anywhere … " He goes to his knees, still between my legs,  and grabs the hem of my button-up blouse; pulling on it, he forces the  buttons to pop out and then he pushes it down my arms, his hungry eyes  going straight to the curve of breasts.

He leans into me, his mouth right between my tits, and I let out a soft  moan as I arch my back, feeling his lips on my skin. My hands dart to  his head and, running my fingers through his hair and disheveling it, I  force him to keep his mouth pressed against my body. Sliding one hand  between my back and the mattress, he finds the clasp on my bra and pulls  it free. With one yank, he takes the bra off my body, the straps  sliding fast down my arms, and throws it to the side.

He looks at me in silence, his eyes taking in the sight of my naked  chest, and I do the thinking for him. I grab both his hands and, slowly,  place them over my naked tits. I close my eyes as I feel the palm of  his hands pressing on my hard nipples, and another moan finds its way  out of me when he squeezes my breasts.

Easing up the pressure, he uses his thumb and index finger to pinch my  right nipple, and then he does the same to the left one. I look into his  eyes as he does it, biting down on my lower lip as I feel the (oh so  sweet) pain travelling from my tits to brain.