Page 171 of Just for the Cameras
After a few seconds, I lift off him, and I’m about to go to the bathroom when he tugs my hand and brings me on top of his body, where he gently kisses my forehead.
“You okay?” He strokes my back again. My eyes are growing heavy from how late it is and the exhaustion of pleasuring each other.
“Perfect,” I answer as I snuggle in close. “What about you?”
He kisses the top of my head and quietly says, “Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”
I smile against his chest and allow myself to be in this moment. To feel our sweat-soaked skin pressed together, to listen to the beat of his heart against my ear. And to revel in the fact that something so surprising, so perfect, so overwhelmingly special came from a PR stunt.
I never expected anything like this when I first met Graydon, but now that I’m here, in his arms, I never want this to end.
CHAPTER 32
GRAYDON
“You touch her and youfucking die, got it?” I say, helmet off, staring down each and every one of my teammates, murder pulsing through my veins.
It was Keenan’s idea to have Maple do a run route and try to score a touchdown. I said absolutely not, but Keenan wasn’t letting up, especially when Gretchen got into the mix.
My teammates, on both offense and defense, all nod and break the huddle before taking their positions, leaving me with just Maple, who looks so goddamn tiny in her gear.
“Don’t you think that was a little much?” she asks as she adjusts her helmet on her head, attempting to look up at me but struggling with the weight of it.
“No.”
Gretchen is off to the side, phone in her hand, snapping pictures. She’s pretty much frothing at the mouth from the amount of attention we’ve been getting from the media lately. Not that I’ve been paying attention too much, but according to my agent, my jersey sales have spiked, my followers on my social media account that I have and don’t pay attention to have grown, and more and more tickets have been sold for upcoming games.
I just can’t fathom how a relationship, fake or not, could garner so much support for the Foghorns.
“You know I can handle myself, right?” Maple asks, playing her defiant side once again.
Leaning in close, I say, “Trust me when I say these men could take you out with just their pinky finger. They’re not to fucking touch you. If they do, they answer to me.”
“If I wasn’t so irritated with this macho-man attitude, I might allow myself to be slightly turned on from your possessiveness. But your protective instincts are irritating me this morning.”
My brows shoot up in surprise. “Irritating you?”
“Uh, yeah. Just because we…” She leans in closer and whispers, “Fucked last night—”
“And this morning.” Don’t want her to forget about this morning.
And she apparently doesn’t, as her cheeks redden under the shadow of her helmet. “Just because we did those things doesn’t mean you can threaten other men.”
“From the way you were screaming my name while I was nine inches deep inside you, yeah, beautiful, it gives me all the goddamn right.”
Her mouth parts in shock, but I don’t let her counter with her snark.
“Do you remember the stiff arm I taught you?”
“Of course,” she says on a huff.
“Show me.”
She rolls her eyes but then sticks out her noodle arm and presses her palm to my chest.
“Good. Now use that if anyone even comes near you.”
“What if you come near me?” she asks.
