Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
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THE NEXT MORNING, I woke to the worst set of realizations.
One, it was possible that I wouldn't be able to walk today.
I could still feel August between my legs. I could still feel him everywhere. It undoubtedly had a lot to do with how he currently had his arms wrapped tightly around me, tucking my body into his like he was afraid I'd try to bolt as soon as I woke up.
But it also had to do with how lasting his touch was, not to mention his words and the looks he gave me while absolutely destroying me over and over again last night. I'd never met a man as relentless or passionate as August Fletcher.
It was terrifying.
There was no way anyone else could compare to him.
And there was no way I could keep him.
Because two, I realized that I had to tell August the truth. The whole truth about why I was here and what I'd been told I had to do before I came home.
The guilt roiling in my stomach this morning told me that I couldn't keep sleeping with him and doing whatever it was that we were doing without coming clean. Even though my purpose for being here had nothing to do with why I wanted to stay and why I wanted him, it still felt wrong that he didn't understand the whole picture.
I should have told him last night. But I'd been too blinded by lust and desire, too drugged by the intensity of August's words and the way he'd wanted me, the way he couldn't wait, the way I couldn't wait.
Fuck.
My high from last night was slowly crashing down around me as realization upon realization sank deeper into my bones.
I wouldn't be able to produce any part of my assignment the way I was supposed to. I wouldn't be able to provide the article they wanted. And I certainly wouldn't be able to deliver August the way they wanted.
I couldn't see August ever returning to play for the Warriors. He felt they betrayed his family—the most important thing to him. They did betray his family. He wasn't about to forget that any time soon.
With a sigh, I attempted to push out of bed to use the bathroom and splash some water on my face to slow the panic that had set in, but August wasn't having it. His arm tightened around me.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his husky, sleep-coated voice making my insides melt.
I cleared my throat. "Who said anything was wrong?"
August slid his hand to my chest, his fingers tracing over the slopes of my breasts until he palm landed over my heart.
"Your breathing picked up, and your heartbeat is faster."
"I thought you were sleeping," I breathed, unsure what to say to his observations. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough." He brushed a kiss over my temple. "What's wrong, Castle?"
