Sacking The Player

I lift the skirt of her dress and smack her bottom.

“I need you fast. You aren’t going to deny me, are you?”

“No,” she pants, as I circle the pulse of her clit over her panties. They are already wet. Fuck me. She’s soaked for me.

“Good,” I tell her as I move to slide her panties to the side. I run my finger through her slick heat, and I nearly bust out of my pants with need.

I unzip my pants quickly and spread her cheeks, lining the head of my dick up with her sweet pussy that was made for loving me.

She quivers as she braces herself against the wall. I slide into her, in an unapologetic thrust. I need her. I need her now. I can’t get enough of her. She will never be able to give me enough of her.

“I don’t want you to go. Don’t leave me, baby. Please, don’t ever leave me.” The words leave my lips, and I instantly want to take them back, afraid she will never come back to me.

She stills and I do too, waiting for her to tell me to go to hell. Only she says, “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Tate, but that would be a lie. I need to do this for me.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I tell her. “We can finish this later.” I pull out of her, hoping I didn’t fuck us up for good.

She spins around to face me and throws her arms around my neck. I pull her up to my chest. Her legs wrapping around me. Tears prick in the corners of her eyes. “I love you, Tate. I wish I could stay.”

I should beg her. I should get down on my knees, but I don’t. I know that if the tables were turned, I don’t think I could walk away from my team to follow her.

I’m selfish.

I want to have it all, and I’m afraid it will all slip away.

We still end up in the bed and over thirty minutes late for dinner.

Chapter 28

Amaya

I

can’t believe it’s been months since I was last visiting Tate.

I love travelling from city to city doing what I love, but I miss my man. Our schedules never seem to line up. I see him more on the TV than I do in person. I wasn’t expecting his career to take off so quickly, but he had a real break. The starting quarterback was involved in a fight over the summer and the guy’s brother retaliated and shot him in his right shoulder. Now, Tate is starting and in the spotlight. He’s always doing interviews. He even had a photoshoot for Sports Illustrated.

He was invited to the Playboy Mansion for crying out loud. I try not to get jealous, but there are so many women. I know Tate loves me, but I can’t help but wonder if our love will be enough. I haven’t told him the offer I received. I haven’t decided yet. I’m afraid that if I accept it will be the end of us.

I was offered a spot on the international tour and it’s huge for me. I would be dancing in France, Russia, Italy… I can see the world, but Tate won’t get to see it with me. I’ll be gone for two years. Two.

I tried talking to Courtney about it but all she said was to follow my heart. That’s not easy when my heart is split between two places—with the company and wherever Tate is.

My mom thinks it’s a terrible idea, but only because it would be hard for her to come to my shows.

I feel horrible. Tate even mentioned getting traded in a few years to the Raiders to be closer to me since my company is based in San Francisco. I don’t know why though. I’m always traveling as much as he is. Sometimes more.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way—life. I know I can’t have it all and it’s tearing me apart, I can’t give up my dream, and I can’t walk away from the man I love more than life. How do I choose? How

do I tell him that I want to go, but I want to be with him too?

My phone rings and as much as I miss him, I’m afraid to answer. I don’t want to tell him about the offer for the international tour.

Instead, I send him to voicemail. Guilt hits me instantly, and I tuck my phone in my purse. I know this is terrible and that I should just tell him straight up, but I’m a chicken shit.

“Hey girl, you ready to go?” My roommate, Celeste asks.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs.”