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“Was that Alex Martin over there?” one of Cane’s teammates asked. They were there to unwind after practice, get a nice meal in before the pressure of the season. Seeing Alex on a date with another man was definitely not helping Cane unwind. It was doing the opposite of that. He was ready to punch someone. Hard. In the throat. Seriously, that was her type? That dude was scrawny, barely six feet tall and two hundred pounds. Tiny men must be her thing. Cane ground his teeth together until his jaw ached. What was the tit picture about? Fuck! Did she send it from her date with another guy? Not cool.
“Earth to Clayburn.”
Cane’s head shot up. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Alex Martin. She’s hot in that girl-next-door kind of way. I would totally do her.” Dave Poston laughed. The other guys snorted their approval.
“What about you? Would you do her?” Dave asked, as he socked Cane in the arm.
I already have. Cane remained silent. His temples throbbed. He just wanted to go home and drag Alex with him.
“Dude, I bet she is dirty. Like filthy. The plain ones always are.”
Plain? Who the fuck was Dave looking at? There was nothing plain about Alex. The woman was hot. And she was on a date with another guy. Shit his head hurt. Punching someone would help that. At least he thought so.
“What do you think? I bet she would take it in the ass.” Dave laughed.
Cane’s head snapped around. If Dave said one more thing about Alex, he was going to be the one getting punched. And that would do fuck nothing for team morale, having the quarterback put a beat down on the tight end. But Cane would if Dave spoke another word about her. Time to shut this conversation down. “Dude, we all know it’s you that wants something in your ass. I don’t think she has the parts to service you, buddy.”
The rest of the guys laughed, successfully diffusing the situation and Cane’s need for blood. At least temporarily.
The waitress seated the team near the window. Several tables had been pushed together. Cane picked a seat where he could watch Alex. Immediately he regretted it. His eyes were on the table as he watched Alex take a forkful off the dude’s plate. What the fuck? Cane was fine with Alex taking bites from his plate but not this douche’s. Her mouth, nor her fork, or any other part of her should be near this other guy.
What was that about? She swallowed the bite and then smiled. Shit. Now she was laughing. The douche was funny. He made her laugh. Yep, Cane was going to punch someone tonight.
Alex reached over the table and wiped something off the guy’s face with her thumb. And then she licked it. Fuck no. Not happening. Cane pushed back from the table. He wasn’t hungry. He could eat nine thousand calories on a good day, but not today.
Shit, where were her hands? If she was giving this guy a hand job, Cane would murder him. Straight up, rip his arms off and beat him to death with them. What the fuck did she see in that guy? He used more product than she did.
Cane stopped himself before he got to Alex’s table. Fuck. What was he doing? She wasn’t really his girlfriend. He just said that to rile her. He had no claim on her.
And he didn’t want one. Not his type. He liked blonds. That’s right, not his type. He needed a drink. Maybe after a beer Alex would stop being his type. Cane didn’t drink during the season. But tonight was an exception.
“Lovestreet, please,” Cane motioned at the bartender. “Cane Clayburn!” a woman squealed from behind him.
He turned to see Miss Texas waving frantically. She was coming toward him. Shit! What was her name? They met once at a bar opening. What was her name? Tiffany? Brittney? Shit. He knew it once. She was coming closer. Her movements were slightly hindered by her tight bandage dress and the Lucite stilettoes. She looked like she had just left work mid-pole dance.
“Hey, you.” Cane stood up and wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Smooth. All women like being called you. She smelled of roses. Suddenly he remembered. Monica and they met at a boat party and had had sex in her car. The smell of roses brought it all back. She’d just laid there like she was trying not to mess up her hair even though she had enough hair spray in it to survive a wind tunnel.
“Haven’t seen you around in forever. Where have you been hiding?”
Cane forced a smile. He glanced behind him to see what Alex was doing but she had already left. Annoyance simmered in him. Did she go home with that guy? Cane gave his head a terse shake. Stay in the moment, man. “Yeah. I’ve been around. Just working. Um...how have you been? How’s...things?” He didn’t know what else to say. He had had sex with her but damn if he remembered having a conversation with her. Did she have a job outside of being a beauty queen? Was that her job? Surely, she had to have a job. Wearing a crown and a sash couldn’t pay the bills, could it?
“Good. Good. Everything is good. So busy. You know with all the appearances and charity work.”
Charity work. What kind of charity work did she do? Was there a charity giving out tiaras to underprivileged kids he didn’t know about, because clearly America needed that. Cane nodded because he didn’t have anything to say to her. They had absolutely nothing in common except sex and she had phoned that in.
“So...” she said, pouting.
She was waiting for him to say something. But what? What did she want from him?
Monica reached out and stroked the flat plain of his stomach and smiled coyly. Really? That is what she was after. She wanted sex. He hadn’t got her off; she barely participated. What was the point? He made a point of only fucking women who were up for it.
“So,” he said, not playing along. He wasn’t interested.
Her pout turned into a frown.
“Cane, are you going to make me ask?”
His brow arched in question.
“I will. If I have to.” She batted her lashes at him. The desired effect was seduction but her false lashes reminded him of a moth desperately beating its wings to take off.
Cane sighed. He didn’t have any other plans. He had planned on stopping by Alex’s after the team dinner. But that wasn’t happening now. Cane gave Monica a hard stare. She was pretty enough. God only knew what she looked like under the mask of makeup but with all the war paint she had “trophy” written all over her. Cane took in a deep breath. There were worse ways to spend a Tuesday night. He wasn’t into her but maybe it would make him less into Alex.
Monica squeezed his bicep. Okay, let’s do this. “Can I get you a drink?”
Monica’s smile broadened exposing perfect veneers. “I thought you would never ask.”
Cane wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle and told himself not to think about what Alex was doing, or with who. Monica sipped her cosmopolitan and talked at him. He wasn’t listening but she didn’t seem to notice or care. The drink was just to make the sex they were going to have seem less tawdry. It was a date, if they had drinks, not just fucking a random stranger because you couldn’t be fucking the one you really wanted to be with.
Monica pushed back from the bar. “My place?”
Perfect. He could leave as soon as he was done. Cane followed her to her car. Her hips swayed when she walked. It could be considered sexy but he just wasn’t feeling it. Fuck, what was he doing? He was about to go home with Miss Texas and he could not even manage a bit of excitement. He was going to be the one phoning it in tonight. Cane sighed. Maybe once they got started, he would be into it. Only one way to find out. Cane pulled Monica’s hand and spun her around. He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth opened for him without any coaxing. She was up for it today. Maybe last time she was having an off day. Her tongue darted into his mouth, wet, aggressive and in command. He liked that. Usually.
Nothing. He felt nothing. There was no spark, no desire to take it to the next level or even keep going. Nothing. Shit.
Cane pulled back. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s um...it’s late.” The excuse sounded lame even to him. It wasn’t even 8 p.m. “I have practice in the morning.” Cane rubbed his eyes searching for excuses.
“Yeah. That’s cool. Its late,” Monica agreed. She unlocked her car and got in without turning around or saying goodbye.
Cane shook his head as she drove away. Miss Texas. He could be ball deep in Miss Texas tonight but he was going to be in a piss poor mood thinking about Alex and some other guy. Cane was an idiot, no two ways about it.
Damn it, Alex had gotten under his skin. Cane didn’t want Miss Texas or any other woman. He wanted Alex. And he was going to have her.