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Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance(77)

By:B. B. Hamel


“So how does marrying me help?”

“Because I need to get my shit together and play by their rules. That’s going to be your job.”

I stared at him. “So I’m your babysitter?”

He laughed. “Not exactly. I have enough of those. No. Your job is exactly what I described, no more or less.”

I sighed. “You think that if you’re married, you’ll somehow stop acting like an ass.”

“Something like that, sure,” he said, laughing again.

I wanted to say something else, but there was a knock at the door. Nash stood up and opened it. The room service guy brought in a tray and placed it at the end of the bed, not sparing me a second glance. Nash tipped him and then closed the door behind him as he left.

“Hungry?” he asked. There was steak and whisky on the cart.

“No, thanks.”

“I suggest you eat,” he said. “Because when we’re done here, we’re getting on a plane.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“You and me, babe, we’re flying to Vegas.”

“Why?” I asked, surprised. “When?”

He picked up his glass of whisky and shot it back. “As soon as I’m finished with this steak.”

“But I don’t have any clothes or anything like that.”

He shrugged. “I’ll buy you new things.”

I frowned. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re about to be my wife,” he said. “I have to be able to buy you presents.”

“But why Vegas?”

He laughed, sitting down with the steak in front of him and digging in. “You didn’t think we were getting married at the Philadelphia courthouse, did you?”

“I didn’t think about it,” I admitted.

“No, we’re getting married in Vegas, baby.” He grinned hugely at me. “We’re doing this right, so get ready for a wild ride.”

I sat back, letting the shock roll over me. I hadn’t prepared myself to leave that night, but he had a point.

And I was committed to this. I could tell this wasn’t just some crazy prank or something like that. Nash may have been dangerous and seductive, but he wasn’t a psychopath. He was in a bad situation and wanted to find his own way out of it.

So we were going to Vegas. In about ten minutes.

Things were moving fast, and I had a feeling they were going to move faster still.





8





Nash





I stepped out of the hotel room door and checked the hallway. Selena followed me, moving quietly, as we went to the stairwell. I pushed open the door and we went down the steps, moving fast and quiet.

I had my single duffel bag, but Selena had nothing. We might get some strange looks at the airport, but that shit didn’t matter. I was famous enough that I could get away with running around with some pretty young girl.

My night sure had taken an interesting turn. There I was having just jerked my cock off thinking about Selena’s incredible body when she just showed up. I hadn’t expected it, but I was glad she did.

And now I was going to marry the girl. Not for real, of course. Selena was all business, and I liked that about her.

It fucking turned me on. The girl was a challenge, a little uptight, a little scared. I wasn’t going to pressure her into anything, but I had a feeling that by the time the tour was over, I’d have her body in the palm of my hand, her ready to let me get her off over and over again.

We went down the staircase, trying to stay quiet. I couldn’t risk running into Livy and having her somehow try to talk me out of it, or maybe threaten me with the publishers again. So we were going the back way, like I was back on a mission.

I glanced back at her and smiled. She looked nervous as hell, maybe even a little frightened, but I could tell she was excited too. I had her pegged as a do-gooder, but maybe she really was wilder than I had initially thought.

Which could be good or bad, depending. My fucking hard cock was definitely not a good thing if we were going to try to keep our relationship professional.

But I couldn’t get too hung up on that just yet. First, we had to sneak out and get on a damn plane.

I stopped once we reached the bottom of the staircase. “Stay here,” I said to her.

“Why?”

“I need to make sure there aren’t any paparazzi.”

“Seriously?”

I nodded, frowning. “Seriously. The rats follow me around.”

“Okay. Be fast.”

I grinned at her and then pushed through the door, moving fast and low toward the first car I saw.

I stayed there for a few minutes, taking in the parking garage. There was no movement that I could see, and the cars all looked empty. At least there was nobody rushing to try to take my picture just yet. I stood up to get a better view.

Still empty. I turned and pushed open the door. “Come on.”

She followed me back out into the parking garage and we followed the wall, sticking away from the center aisle, trying to stay in the shadows.

She did a good job keeping up with me. I was hustling, moving fast, trying to minimize our chances of getting caught. It felt like a mission again, and I loved the adrenaline racing through my veins. Although, if we got caught, our punishment would be photographs, whereas my old missions were all life or death.

Still, it felt good to be sneaking around again, putting my training to use. We moved down the wall and slowly wound our way upward toward ground level.

I paused and held my hand out, stopping Selena. I looked around the corner and saw the entrance to the garage just ahead, with the street beyond.

That was our chance. Once out in the street, nobody was going to find us. We’d grab a cab or an Uber and get the hell out of there.

Except standing right next to the garage entrance were two paparazzi. They thought they were being slick by hiding their cameras, but it was obvious what they were. They stood there in too-plain clothing, smoking cigarettes, with huge cups of coffee next to them. Normal people didn’t drink tons of coffee late at night and hang around parking garages.

I turned to Selena. “The two guys up there are paparazzi, so we need to get around them.”

“How?” she asked.

I frowned and began to work on it. The garage had only one entrance, and we couldn’t just go up through the lobby. There were absolutely paparazzi lingering up there.

And then I had an idea.

“Nobody knows you yet, right?” I said to her.

“Sure.”

“Go upstairs into the lobby. Poke your head out the door, look back inside, and yell something about seeing me.”

“What?”

“Go act like you spotted me on the street. Then walk fast away from the building. Hopefully that’ll draw those guys away long enough for me to slip out.”

“Where should we meet?”

“There’s a bar right around the corner called Sabrina’s. Meet me there.”

She frowned. “I don’t know if I can do this. What if everyone ignores me?”

“Then head back here and we’ll think of something else.” I looked at her seriously. “You can do this.”

She nodded. “Okay. See you soon.”

I watched her leave, heading back toward the stairwell. I turned back to the paparazzi standing at the entrance and waited, keeping myself calm.

A few minutes slipped by. I began to wonder if she hadn’t just walked away from the whole thing, giving up as soon as things got a little hairy. Maybe it was a mistake to drag a normal girl into this. Maybe I really did need a crazy actress or someone like that.

And then I heard some shouting from the street. I watched with a delighted smile as the two paparazzi assholes began to walk away.

I took my chance. Silently, I moved from the spot and kept to the wall. The men disappeared from view, and so I walked fast, slipped out behind them. I glanced up the sidewalk and noticed them walking slowly up the hill toward the entrance.

I turned around the corner and was gone.

I laughed the whole way to the bar. Selena had done it; she really had.

Maybe this was going to work out better than I thought.

I found the bar and pushed the door open. Sitting on a stool was Selena, looking flushed but grinning like mad.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“I started yelling about a man stealing my purse.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Smart. That was a good call.”

“I can’t believe that happened. I just walked away as soon as people started coming over to me. I pointed down the street and then walked away.”

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “Good job. You did good.”

She grinned back at me, and I felt a thrill run through my chest. The girl was impressive, absolutely amazing.

“Thanks,” she said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get a cab.”

I kept hold of her hand, pulling her along as we went back out into the street.

She was grinning like mad, still clearly running on an adrenaline high. I knew the feeling, and was maybe a little jealous of it. Eventually I dropped her hand as we got a cab, but the feeling of her skin against mine still lingered.

We sped along toward the airport.

Toward Las Vegas.

Toward our damn wedding.

I smirked to myself in the back of the cab, heart pumping, ready.





9





Selena





As far as last-minute flights went, ours was pretty uneventful.

The first flight to Vegas didn’t leave until five in the morning, and so we were stuck sitting around in the terminal all night. I tried to sleep while Nash sat around reading on his phone or whatever he was doing. He didn’t seem particularly talkative, which didn’t exactly surprise me. He wasn’t known as a super chatty guy.