“Puppet? I’m here to save the Kenzie game. Your game. You should be grateful someone is in your corner.”
“Grateful?” he scoffed.
I jumped off the bed. “Do you have any idea what kind of PR nightmare is in front of you? I read the latest on you while I was in the lobby. It’s gotten worse since I landed in Rio. You lost three sponsorships today. Three. And your agent. You might get sued by a sleazy photographer because you knocked him to the ground in front of a crowd of people. Your team apparently hates you and there’s talk you’re not even going to play after that stunt you pulled at the stadium today.” I pressed my hands on my hips. “You left your team before an Olympic practice. Who does that?”
“So, yes. Grateful. You should be grateful you have someone left who hasn’t dropped you like the toxic train wreck you are.” My hands flew to my mouth. I was worked up. It was a long anxious day of waiting and traveling. I said more than I should have. I instantly regretted it.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
Once I started I couldn’t stop. Everything came tumbling out.
“Anything else?” he asked.
I shook my head. I had lost all professionalism. All composure. I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“If you’re done, I was thinking about taking a shower.” He tugged on the hem of his T-shirt and peeled it over his chest.
My mouth hung open.
He wanted me to see his perfect body. How it was crafted into sharp angles and ridges that met more planes of firm muscles.
He strolled across the room and turned on the light in the bathroom. The glow of lights behind him contrasted with his tanned skin and hair. His broad shoulders filled the doorway.
“But the game,” I protested. I knew I owed him a better apology—I had speared him.
“I’l
l be out in a few, love.”
He closed the door and I stared in disbelief.
I heard the shower sputter to life on the other side of the door. I was out of my element. I was in over my head. Lachlan Kenzie was in control, and suddenly I felt as if I were back on that airplane getting ready to take off.
9
Lachlan
I had to stand under a cold shower. Her scent filled my room. I needed to wash the heat off my skin. I needed the cold water to calm my cock. I’d never been so turned on by a tongue lashing in my life. Her eyes sparkled and her pouty lips puckered and danced when she spoke. We didn’t even know each other, but it was clear I had gotten under her skin. And as hard as my dick was, she had gotten under mine.
Part of what she said was true. She might be my last chance. Rick was gone. The team hated me. All I had was this pretty girl from America, ready to throw everything in to save me.
She was the only one who rushed to Rio. The other companies had dropped me without a phone call. I didn’t want to know what that was going to cost me. No one else was here, but this fucking sex temptress who held the key to my fortune’s future.
I ran my fingers through my hair, soaping the strands with shampoo. The problem was I couldn’t think about my career. I couldn’t think about football. All I could think about was what I wanted to do with Aspen in my room. I’d never wanted a woman like this.
I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles. My dick was as hard as a rock. Fuck.
I turned off the water and reached for my towel.
Once I opened that door, she was going to lay into me about cleaning up my image. I’d heard it before. I knew the words before she said them. She probably had a five-point plan ready to go. But how could I concentrate on anything other than her sweet lips?
I wrapped the towel around my waist, not bothering to dry off. I opened the door, letting a wave of steam hit the bedroom before walking out.
“Oh my God. You have to put on some clothes.” Aspen shielded her eyes with her hands.
I chuckled. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen on any of the ads I’m in,” I taunted, standing in front of her. I knew she had been watching me like I had been watching her.
She had taken off her stuffy jacket. She slowly let her hands fall to her lap. “That’s not the same thing. This is real.”