This Round I'm Yours Read online

  She couldn’t even make herself deny it.

  “Wyndham, look at me.”

  She didn’t want to.

  “Wyndham.”

  Ah, God. How to resist that silvery voice?

  It was impossible.

  Their eyes met.

  “I only said to think about it,” he said gently. “Not kill yourself worrying about it. I’m not going to pressure you to do anything.”

  She said in a small voice, “I know. It’s just that…” How was she going to tell Slade and her parents about it? What would the boys think about it? Her friends? What did she think about it?

  But…

  She could be with Silver every moment possible.

  She could sleep with Silver every night, wake up with him beside her every morning. She could spend as much time with him as she wanted, enough maybe to convince him to play basketball because she would so love to be his coach—

  Inside her jeans pocket, her phone vibrated, and it was like someone throwing a brick in her glass house.

  Everything shattered around her.

  If they lived together, it would only be a matter of time before he found out everything about her. Everything.

  “We’re here.”

  The words jerked Lace out of her thoughts, and when she looked outside her window, she realized they were indeed in front of her school building.

  “I’ll call you from Montreal, okay?”

  The reminder that he was going away again was twice as depressing now. “Yeah.”

  “You can say it, you know.”

  She was bemused. “Say what?”

  “That you’ll miss me.”

  Before she could answer, she heard a telltale click and knew Silver had locked her in. “Really, March?”

  His eyes gleamed. “Say it.”

  She bit her lip. “Just…hurry back.”

  A mere hour later, and she was missing him so badly she wanted to kick herself. Maybe she should have said she would miss him. If she had, maybe Silver would change his mind about leaving.

  Lace floated from one class to another, lost in a haze of misery. When lunchtime came, she went to the dining hall and found Aria and KC already waiting for her at their usual table.

  When she joined her friends, Aria had her white board ready. HAVE YOU TOLD HIM?

  She hesitated. “There wasn’t time.” The curvy brunette started to write on her board, making Lace wonder absently if this was also how she argued with her boyfriend, the President of Afxisi, an underground racing organization masquerading as a college club.

  It would be interesting if they did, albeit it would probably be longer than usual. Also, plus points to the one who wrote fastest.

  Aria suddenly looked up, as if changing her mind about writing. She pointed at Lace, saying succintly, “Chicken.”

  Lace grimaced. “Can you just go back to your non-talking self and not talk?”

  KC laughed. Whereas Aria was someone they had only gotten to know in college, she and KC went as far back as high school.

  With red hair and green eyes, KC had the makings of a temptress. In reality, she was the opposite, the proverbial good girl with the way she still faithfully attended Sunday service and could only make herself swear using British English cuss words.

  “But seriously, Lace…” KC’s tone sobered. “You know we only want the best for you.

  You have got to tell him before Silver starts to realize what’s going on and you start lying—”

  “I’m not going to lie about it,” she protested.

  “You always lie when your pride’s on the line.”

  Aria shook her head and showed Lace her board. CHICKEN.

  “You’re going to regret delaying it, you know.”

  What Lace regretted was her momentary weakness, one that had her confessing to her friends about Grant’s harrassment. She was Lace Wyndham, dammit. She could do everything on her own, and she never asked for help.

  This was all Silver March’s fault, Lace thought grumpily. He had gotten her so used to being dependent on him that at the first sign of trouble, she had come bawling to her friends.

  Seeing her friends gazing at her worriedly – even Aria – she said brightly, “Relax. I got this.”

  Aria wrote on her board. LIAR.

  The rest of the day passed as slowly as it did that morning, and by the time her last class finally ended, she barely had energy left to trudge her way to practice.

  “You okay, Coach?” Ivan, the team captain, asked warily.

  She could understand their concern. It was her first time to be late. “Yeah, I just got held up in my last class.” She tried to muster enough energy to tell them about the new play she had devised but couldn’t. Finally, she said, “For today, let’s just take it easy. After warm-ups, you should watch the game film from last week. I need you guys to list down your top 5 worst and best moments and include timestamps.”

  “In other words,” Drew said slyly, “Coach is feeling too lazy to work with us right now.”

  “I changed my mind. Make that warm-ups, game film observation, then after that, finish with 100 pumps.”

  Everyone groaned in her wake.

  When she got to the private office she shared with Coach Rob, she slumped behind her desk, playing with her lucky coin. Maybe, Lace thought, she could decide everything with a coin flip.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket before she could decide. Taking it out, a nauseating feeling started in her stomach when she saw that it was still from Grant.

  Another text came in.

  And another.

  All of them were from Grant, all of them saying the same thing.

  I’m not going to stop until you say yes to me.

  Lace threw the coin in the air.

  Heads, she would tell Silver about this.

  Tails, she would figure out things on her own.

  Her phone beeped another time, and even with the coin still in the air, she figured that either way, the outcome was inevitable.

  Clicking on the latest unread message, she typed her reply. Okay, I’ll meet you.

  The coin fell on the floor the same time the phone in her hand rang, Silver’s name and face flashing on the screen. Lace was so shocked she lost hold of her iPhone, and cursing, she grabbed it from the floor and hurriedly answered the call.

  “March.” Did she sound a little breathless there?

  “Wyndham. Are you okay? You sound a little breathless.”

  “I’m…umm…in practice, doing laps.”

  “Ah. I was talking to Damian earlier, actually, and he told me you had locked yourself inside the office the moment you came in.”

  Damian, you big-mouthed jerk. The first time she had met him, he hadn’t spoken a word, making her think he only understood Greek. Quiet people should stay quiet for the rest of their lives, dammit.

  Clearing her throat, she told Silver, “Yeah. I got tired doing laps around the school. You know. For a change.”

  “I see.”

  She quickly changed the subject. “So, why did you call? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting still?”

  “Just ended. On my way up to my room now to have dinner.” Before she could ask why he wanted to eat alone, Silver added, “By the way, I think you sent a wrong text. You’re meeting someone, I believe?”

  Face. Palm.

  The thought wasn’t satisfying so she slapped her face for real.

  There.

  She deserved that.

  “Oh, that,” she finally said. Please don’t ask, please don’t ask—

  “Who are you meeting?”

  “Someone?”

  “Whose name is?”

  Her gaze strayed to the coin on the floor, too far for her to see whether it was heads or tails. “Umm, Penny…Hardaway…Flip?”

  Face. Palm.

  And for good measure, she slapped herself for real again. Twice.

  “I see. What’s it about?”

  “Stuff.”


  “What kind of stuff?”

  “The kind you wouldn’t be interested in?” God, she hated this. She hated this. She never thought she’d be lying to Silver about stuff like this.

  “March–”

  “I love you.”

  Noooooooo.

  Now, she wanted to face-palm herself for real, again and again until she had no face left. She did not – she just did not deserve to have someone like Silver March as a boyfriend. He was just… Too. Irritatingly. Perfect. While she was…not.

  She whispered, “I feel the same.”

  Another pause.

  “Are you still in your office?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes.

  “Good. I’m in my room now.”

  “Umm, okay. You want me to hang up so you can eat?”

  “No. I want the opposite. Because…” Lace heard Silver closing the door in the background, followed by the sound of clothes rustling. Was he undressing?

  “March?”

  “I’m in the mood for phone sex.”

  I’m in the mood for phone sex. It took a while for the words to sink in since Silver had said them so casually, as if it was no different from saying he was in the mood for pizza rather than pasta.

  Lace choked. “March—”

  “Lock the door, Wyndham.”

  Noooooooo.

  “Now.”

  Even as she cursed him in her mind, she found herself doing what he asked. When she was back in her seat, she said, “Done.” Her tone was half-helpless, half-hateful, and both feelings increased at his low, sexy chuckle.

  “If I remember correctly,” Silver mused, “your office has no blinds, right? So people can see through it?”

  “Yes. And that’s why—”

  “You have to do everything behind your desk.”

  Noooooo.

  “Have you changed into sweatpants yet?”

  “N-no. I’m still wearing my jeans…”

  Silver tsk-tsked. “Get out of those.”

  “March, don’t do…”

  “Out of it competely, you understand? I don’t want them pooled around your ankles.” His voice had become gentler but more persuasive, a command wrapped in velvet.

  She was not going to do this. She was crazy to do this. She was…going to do it.

  “D-done.”

  “Then…wide open now, my beautiful. As wide open as you can.”

  She did as asked, and with each inch she forced her legs to open wider, she could feel herself getting wetter and wetter.

  “Are you wet now, my love?”

  “Yes.” A whimper she couldn’t keep to herself escaped.

  “Good.” Silver’s voice was a little harsher now, and the sound of it made her whimper again.

  “I’m naked now, little lamb. What do you want me to do?”

  “T-touch yourself.”

  “How?” he persisted.

  “L-like I do.” Her eyes closed, and the picture was so vividly clear – of Silver naked in a hotel room, lying on the bed, his hand on his cock – and a cry escaped her.

  Through the phone, Silver groaned.

  She moaned.

  “I’m touching myself now,” Silver rasped. “Like you touch me. So I want you to do the same. Touch yourself like I do. Start with your folds.”

  Slowly, her fingers found herself, and she tried to do what Silver did, drawing a straight line against her folds, slowly, caressingly. Even as her breathing became erratic, she kept it slow, even if it was making her heart beat hard and her body ache painfully. Because that was how Silver liked to make love to her, torturing her with desire before—

  “My hand…on my cock…is moving faster now.”

  Lace bit her lip hard, not wanting to accidentally scream. If she did, she would sure to be heard outside, locked door notwithstanding.

  “I want your hand inside your panties now.”

  “O-okay.” She slipped her fingers inside and could have wept at how her skin swelled at the mere brush of contact.

  “Push one finger in, sweetheart.”

  She hesitated, having never pleasured herself this way before. “I…”

  “It’s going to be okay.” Silver’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I d-do.” And so she pushed one finger in…

  Oh. Oh God oh.

  Her head slumped against the desk as her finger went all the way in. She felt her legs stretching, as if her body wanted to open itself completely so her finger could move even deeper.

  “Fuck yourself with your fingers now, baby. Do it like I fuck you.”

  This time, she didn’t think twice. This time, she didn’t even think.

  Her finger went in and out, slowly at first then harder, deeper, and her eyes squeezed shut. Over the phone, she heard the sloshing sounds becoming louder and knew he was stroking himself hard as well. The thought of it had her whimpering, and she realized just one finger wasn’t enough.

  “March.” She moaned his name like she was begging.

  “Fist yourself then. One finger won’t ever be like my cock.”

  “F-fist myself?”

  “All four fingers, sweetheart. Now.”

  She tried it one at a time. Two fingers. Thrust it in, and found that it wasn’t enough. Three fingers made her start to feel tight, deliciously so, but after a few thrusts, it just wasn’t enough.

  And so the last finger went inside, and she was finally full, her folds stretching almost the way they did when it was Silver’s cock inside of her.

  Silver growled, “I’m close now so you have to do it hard, as hard as you can…”

  She fisted herself as hard as she could, trying to go deeper and harder with each thrust.

  “I’m fucking close now…”

  Lace moaned, his dirty talk never failing to push her ever so close to the edge.

  “Use your other hand, sweetheart. Touch your clit. Press hard…”

  She did as asked, her middle finger finding her clit, a long moan escaping her as she pressed hard.

  “Come now!”

  She fisted herself and played with her clit, and her orgasm exploded out of nowhere.

  She gasped, her eyes rolling back behind her eyelids, her entire body stiffening as she came in huge waves of pleasure. Over the phone she heard Silver roaring as he came as well, and the sound of him stroking himself into a frenzy made her moan and press harder on her clit, prolonging her orgasm until she ended up slumped down on the desk, completely exhausted.

  Over the phone, she heard Silver ask, “Do you need me to fly back?”

  A tear slipped down.

  God. Why was he so irritatingly perfect? Why did he seem to have a sixth sense when it came to sensing when she was in trouble?

  She remembered Aria and KC’s words.

  “I—” Her phone vibrated at an incoming message, cutting her off.

  “Wyndham?” Silver asked when she got back.

  Could she risk Silver finding out about how stupid she had been in the past?

  She said dully, “I’m…good.” Swallowing back a painful sob, she said, “But March?”

  “What is it?” His voice was sharp with worry.

  “Hurry back, okay?”

  She ended the call before he could answer. On her way out, she almost stepped on her lucky coin. She bent down to pick it up, but her hand froze mid-air when she realized what she was staring at.

  Heads. Tell Silver about it.

  Bad Thoughts

  Lace would never admit it to anyone, would rather have people think she had been fooled by his looks. Six-foot-three, dark brown hair, green eyes, and a winsome smile.

  She would rather people thought he had turned her head around because of his wholesome All-American image. Boy Scout childhood, varsity since he hit six feet in his pre-teens, and a family well-known for their charitable endeavors.

  Lace would rather people thought anything but the truth, which was that sh
e had let her guard down because his name was Grant.

  Like…Grant Hill.

  The most gentlemanly player that ever lived.

  Ever.

  When she had found out Northwest’s team captain was named Grant as well, her mind went la-la-la. By the time she realized she had been wrong about him, it was too late. He had her number, and life as she had known it was over.

  “You’ve gotten much more beautiful,” Grant said huskily as he stood up at her approach. He was dressed like he always did, crew neck shirt, jeans, and of course his varsity jacket. Grant was the type of guy who felt naked without his jacket and signet ring.

  There were only a few other patrons around, which was exactly why she had selected the place. It was a little-known Italian restaurant, with dark interiors and tinted windows. More importantly than that, it was located far away from anyone who could possibly know her…and Silver.

  She didn’t make a fuss when he pulled out the chair for her. “Thanks.” Lace said. The less fuss, the better. She had learned that the hard way.

  When they were both seated, she called for the waiter immediately and gave her order. She needed food to get her brain cells to work. And they better work right now because she couldn’t afford to have this meeting end badly.

  “Just your house salad and lemonade, no sugar,” Grant said.

  Never trust a man who didn’t eat meat. She had always thought that, and Grant was proof of it.

  Seeing her eyes on him, he said with a smile, “I missed you a lot, Lacey baby. We had good times, didn’t we?”

  Good times, Lace thought incredulously. They probably seemed that way on the surface, but both of them knew it hadn’t ever been so, not after she had found out the truth.

  She remembered what was probably one of his so-called good times, of her joking around with him in the dugouts after practice. “Yes, I’d date you. With you as my boyfriend, I’d probably make it to coach status in no time.”

  The words ended up haunting her, Grant’s recording of it one of the threats he held over her head.

  Her fists clenched in her lap. She wanted to overturn the table, throw her glass of water on his face, and scream at him for being the worst scum on earth. She really wanted to do it, but then the waiter came, a reminder that she had to be sane.

  For her new life, for her boys, for Silver, she had to do this right.