Chapter Thirty-Four

 

Aiden

THE ONLY REASON I’m standing upright is adrenaline. Everything will hurt when it drops, but right now I’m riding the winning high that hasn’t stopped since the final game whistle blew. The mood on our midnight flight out of Pittsburgh is much different than our arrival.

Winning cures all evil.

We’re on a private chartered plane. I’ve decided if the entire team knows Jordan and I are a couple there’s no reason to hide it any longer. I grab her hand and pull her to the back with me.

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

“Having you sit by me. Come on.” I sit down and move over, tugging her down beside me. I don’t stop there and once she’s seated, I pull her into my arms and kiss her sweet pouty lips.

“Aiden,” she whispers into my mouth.

“They don’t care,” he says and deepens the kiss.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Lane hollers so everyone hears. “Apparently your romantic spin on the sideline is a trending topic on social media. Twitter and Facebook are going crazy.”

Aiden laughs. “Next thing you know she’ll be cheating on you with me.”

Jordan gasps and I smile smugly with a shrug. “They’ll spin it whatever way attracts the most attention. The truth won’t matter to the rag mags. Our non-couple days are numbered.”

“You did the spin thing on the sideline on purpose.”

I shake my head. “Actually, I didn’t but only because I didn’t think of it.” I give her my best poor is me look. “Are you really angry?”

She snuggles into my side. “No, I’m still high from the game but fading fast. It’s been a long day.”

I kiss her hair and re-adjust our positions so we’re comfortable. We let the cheers and shouts soothe us until the plane quiets down and the lights go out. No way would anyone stop a winning celebration no matter how tired we all are. I manage to nap on and off before we touch down in Albuquerque.

After we land, I try to stand up, but my knee locks up and I grimace.

“It’s your knee, isn’t it?” Jordan asks.

I keep a tight hold on the back of the seat to stabilize myself. “My knee, my ribs, my hip…take your pick,” I breathe heavily.

Jordan’s warm palm rubs my chin. “Buck up, buttercup. We have some fans at the airport and you don’t want them to see you looking like a crybaby.”

Yeah, Jordan fits right in with the guys. I inhale deeply, plaster a smile on my face, and give her a quick kiss on the nose. “Lead the way. I promise not to embarrass you.”

The crowd isn’t large, maybe a hundred diehard fans, but at two o’clock in the morning, it’s amazing. Most are here for Jordan’s signature but I get a few stragglers and I’m asked to sign two of my number fifteen jerseys along with several number nines. The love these fans have for Jordan is off the charts. She’s amazing to watch as she hands out autographs and smiles. The entire team signs the cloth banner someone brought and I heard it will be auctioned for charity.

Our bus drops us back at the stadium and I head in to see a trainer and get some pain meds so I can get some decent sleep. Jordan stays with me because she promised to sleep at my place and enjoy a lazy day with me on victory Monday. I haven’t had many victory days off and I plan to enjoy this one. A table opens up in the training room and I slide on it with only a towel wrapped around my hips. The team doctor walks over and examines my knee. After an injection in my ass for pain, I receive a nice bag of ice for the knee. I’m accustomed to this pain and it’s no worse than usual after a tough game. On a scale of one to ten, I tell the doctor I’m a five. I run through my list of injuries and he writes it all down. A masseuse steps in and he and a trainer begin working on me. I can’t help my loud groans when they hit the spots that need the most attention. Before leaving, I schedule an appointment for much later in the afternoon.

With the injection and ice, my knee feels better, though I know it’s deceiving and the best medicine is to stay off of it. Jordan and I wearily make our way to my apartment and fall into bed.

Jordan’s hair sliding across my face wakes me hours later. I stretch and take inventory of my injuries. The shot in my ass is still working and will give me twenty-four hours of relief. Hopefully with ibuprofen and physical therapy, this will keep me off the injured list. I turn on my side and look at the woman lying beside me.

Her hair covers half her face and a pillow covers the other half. She’s a pillow hog of the first order. I carefully pull her hair aside so I can see her mouth. Those lips, even without lipstick, drive me wild. She bats my hand away and groans.

“It’s too early,” she whines.

“You stay in bed and I’ll see what Carma prepared for us.”

Jordan moves the pillow away and peeks at me through eyes still covered by hair. “I don’t think there is a Carma,” she says sleepily. “You made her up.”

“Hmm.” I move the hair aside. “You wouldn’t say that if you ever tasted my cooking.”

Her hand sneaks out of the covers and she runs it across the bare flesh of my hip. “How are you feeling?”

I lift her wandering hand and kiss her knuckles. “As good as new,” I lie.

“Then I want orgasms for breakfast,” she says huskily.

“It’s afternoon all ready.”

She wiggles her fingers from mine, slides her hand over my thigh, and wraps her warm fingers around my thickening cock. “You sure do complain a lot for a man who’s about to get laid.”

“Me?” I pull the sheet aside and view her beautiful body. “No way. One orgasm coming up.” I slide closer so our bodies are touching.

I’m surprised when she half sits and peers down at me. “Lay back, big guy, and let me do the work.” She lifts her leg over my hip, grabs a condom from the bedside drawer, and slides it on. She adjusts herself on the tip of my cock before sinking down over me. I take her breasts in my hands and watch her lips. She licks them as she watches me because she knows it drives me crazy. Her hands come down on my upper arms and she increases her speed as we keep our eyes locked. Her expression goes dreamy and her fingernails dig in as she draws closer to her promised orgasm.

This is what I want every day for the rest of my life.

“You with me, big guy?” she moans.

I thrust upward and move my hands to her hips and take over the rhythm. Her pussy squeezes me with her release. Two thrusts later, I’m there with her.

We shower and after that we head to the kitchen. Since Jordan has been spending more time here, Carma prepares larger meals. Today’s turkey potpie casserole comes with a salad too. We watch sports TV while the casserole heats.

“Rumors abound after yesterday’s embrace on the sidelines. Maybe Lane Grisham is being replaced with star quarterback Aiden Patrickson?”

My impromptu twirl is played again and again while the discussion continues.

Jordan slaps my thigh. “You knew that would happen.”

“Knew what?”

“That they would accuse me of dumping Lane.”

I can’t help my smile. “You weren’t with Lane.”

“But they thought I was and it took the pressure off us.”

I move her so she’s sitting on my lap. “I like the pressure of us.” I can see the worry in her eyes and I know there will be things said about our relationship that aren’t true. Mostly bad things. We’re public figures and have no choice, but that doesn’t make it easier.

Jordan cups my face in her palms. “Where are we going with this, Aiden?”

I know what she’s asking. This is about our relationship…our future. It’s time that I let her know exactly how I feel. “I want you in my life. I want to wake up with you each morning. I want to plan our future.”

She leans in and places the sweetest kiss on my lips. “I love you, Aiden Patrickson.”

Love. It’s what I feel. It runs through my veins and fills my soul and my woman loves me too. “I love you, Jordan Givens.”

The kitchen timer goes off and we laugh. Over our meal we make a game plan to handle the media. The team’s experts will have their say, but Jordan and I have a few items they won’t be so keen on.

We’re taking our relationship completely public and Jordan is moving in with me.