City of Champions (9 page)

Just let her try to ignore me now,
he thought smugly to himself.

"We might want to choose a physician of our own, John, like the…" Gabe chattered on.

"Like the CBA permits you to do? Sure, you can do that. But I'm sure you're also aware that Wyatt's shoulder isn't the only thing giving us pause when his contract is up this year.”

John turned his head slightly, pinning Wyatt with a serious stare. “Coach is very worried that you've never taken on leadership in the locker room. You're unfocused in practice, and on the field. You haven't bonded with your teammates in any real way. We tried to overlook your reputation from when you were in Dallas, but I'm not sure if we can anymore. We've got a lot of rookies on the team that could really use the guidance from someone that's been in the league for as many seasons as you have, but you're too isolated. You come in, do your time and leave — that's not how we do things here in Pittsburgh. This is a family institution, and the quarterback needs to be an important part of that family," John rattled off, leaning back in his chair.

Wyatt could feel his hands clenching into fists — desperate to shut this asshole up.

Wyatt didn't need to listen to this bullshit anymore. He had a plan of his own, and it didn't involve listening to Gabe and these team bosses bicker at each other.

"This one. Dr. Sutherland. She'll do," Wyatt stated assuredly, tossing the folder onto the table. Her pretty face was staring up at all of them — glowing like an unsuspecting angel against the manila folder backdrop.

"Jenna Sutherland?" Tom asked, his eyes widening with shock at Wyatt's pronouncement. And it gave Wyatt a strange thrill to see he'd thrown the guy off-balance.

"Absolutely. Is that a problem?"

"Of course not, she's very popular with our players, has been requested several times before…it's just…" Tom sputtered out.

"John put her bio in there. I chose her. I told you I can be a team guy," Wyatt answered, staring Tom dead in the eye.

"I'm glad to see it, Wyatt. It's no problem, of course we like your pick," John said, looking questioningly at Tom. "We'll set it up."

"Wyatt, we don't have to decide now," Gabe whispered to him in a hushed tone.

"Why wait? I've got nothing to hide. I'm ready to move forward. Thanks, Tom, thanks, John."

"You got it," John said, standing and walking them out of the room. "Wyatt, I like you. You know I believed you could have a lot of success here when we brought you in. I still do."

They'd barely made it out of the building on the way to their cars before Gabe looked at him with utter confusion.

"Why the hell did you choose this surgeon? How can you be so confident? Do you know something I don't?" Gabe asked.

"She's younger…and a woman."

"And you have a way with younger women?"

"Generally, yes. And I'm pretty confident I have a way with this
particular
woman."

"What's that supposed to mean? Why was Tom so hesitant in there? Those are their list of docs, so what was that all about?" Gabe asked.

"Because I've met her before. He saw me ask her out. He's probably terrified I have her in my back pocket already. I will soon though, don't worry."

"You're kidding."

"You know I never kid about my career. Look, it worked with Olivia Hayes from
Fox Sports
. I've gotten a lot of favorable press out of her."

"There's a big difference between flirting with an unscrupulous cleat-chasing reporter and manipulating an actual orthopedic surgeon with a career impressive enough to be included in that folder."

"We'll see about that. Besides, who said anything about manipulating her? I just want to give her the chance to have an open mind about my shoulder."

"And you think she'll just start seeing things your way?"

"I definitely had an effect on her. It's a long shot, but I need to use whatever advantages I can find to stay on the field."

"Wy, I've had plenty of clients that have had to get surgery."

"But none that's this invasive right when their contract is up. Gabe, you know as well as I do that needing to have surgery makes me about as unappealing as a one-eyed skinny pig at the state fair. Look at you, and what happened after your knee injury."

A furious look streaked across Gabe's face and a stream of guilt ran through Wyatt's chest. Gabe had been an incredible running back in college, but a catastrophic knee injury and two surgeries cut his career short.

"Dude, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"Forget it, Wy. This isn't about me. You've got the possibility of several years left in you if you recover fully."

"Gabe, you know how I feel about surgery. The only time someone's putting me under is when they bury me six feet in the ground."

Wyatt felt a pang of pain in his chest. He remembered feeling weak, defenseless, and powerless when he lost his grandfather. Once he was gone, his absence tortured Wyatt — it still did. If something were to go wrong with this surgery, he’d be leaving behind the family he promised to take care of. He couldn’t do that to them —
he wouldn’t do that to them
.

"Fine, Wy. Well, you better bring the charm to this pretty, young surgeon because you're gonna need all the help you can get if you won't take my advice or the doctor's either. You know, you're making life very hard for all of us."

"Have a little faith in me, Gabe, and stop stressing so much, I know how much you hate wrinkles, pretty boy."

"Fuck you, Wy. Try to be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious all right. Completely. Ever since Dallas traded me, nothing's gone right."

"It wasn't going that well in Dallas, either."

"True. But if I want to get this two-year contract renewed, I can't be off the map with a surgery for months."

Wyatt knew that he had no intention of ever having surgery, but he wasn’t going to tell Gabe that.

"Avoiding surgery alone might not fix it. Word is, they've got their eye on a new backup for you. And he's supposed to be ruthless."

"What the fuck? Who is it?"

"I'm still trying to get his name. Everyone has suddenly clammed up on me, and you know that's never good."

"You think he's really my replacement?"

"Possibly."

"And what if they do end up kicking me off as starting QB here?"

"I'm testing the waters with some other teams, but with your shoulder and it being your third team in however many years, you may need to drop down to back-up somewhere."

"And lose all that money and likely blow my shot of a broadcasting gig. You know that's where the stability is. I've got to think about my family. My mom, Claudia, my abuela…I'm all they have."

"Fine, if that's the way you see it, just be careful. I know you're desperate, but this doesn't seem like you, man."

"No. It's not me. Not, at all. But, you said it yourself, man, I'm desperate." And Wyatt couldn't deny that he was. This wasn’t just about his career; it was about the livelihood of everyone that mattered to him. As guilty as he felt for what he was about to do, sometimes you have to do something you hate to protect the people that you love. If it were just about his career, then he would be just like his father — and other than his playing abilities, he was nothing like that piece of shit. This was about keeping promises and seeing things through, no matter how hard or uncomfortable the situation. 

"Besides," Wyatt continued as he pulled open the door of his Range Rover, "I've got my dad's blood running through my veins. There must be some of his son-of-a-bitch gene in there to go with all that football DNA. I know I’m as good a player as him."

Wyatt climbed in and started his engine, deliberately avoiding Gabe's disappointed gaze.

As he drove away, a self-loathing grimace marked his lips, but he quickly schooled his face. He let out a deep breath and smiled to himself, planning the delightful text message that he would send to the lovely Dr. Sutherland to share the good news about their upcoming second meeting.

CHAPTER FOUR

"Jenna?" Wyatt called to her softly, his breath fanning across her cheek. "Can you hear me, Jenna?" he added, letting his lips brush against the curves of her ear before leaning back away from her.

"Yes," Jenna answered, shocked to hear that he was using her actual name — no "sugar," no "Doc," just Jenna. It was unnerving.

She looked up at him and her breath caught like a wayward feather in her throat.

He was just so beautiful, with his brown eyes, just barely flecked with hints of gold. His lips were curled into a smile, momentarily hiding how they were almost too full and soft-looking for a man — almost.

His hair was tousled and messy, making her want to run her fingers through it, perhaps to smooth it, or maybe to send it into further disarray. She hadn't yet decided.

"I need you to climb up on this examining table for me," he said, still ever so quietly.

"Okay," she whispered, moving her hands to rest on the edge of the barely cushioned bed. She was ready to hoist herself up, yet she hesitated suddenly, immobilized with surprise — and slight embarrassment — to glance down and see that her body was barely covered by the thin slip of a hospital gown.

"It's okay, I'll take good care of you," he reassured her, gliding the hard, hot knuckles of one hand against the almost see-through cotton covering her chest. She was naked underneath the gown and the jolt of contact on her nipple caused it to tighten and harden in immediate response. She so wanted to do what he'd asked, but his touch had paralyzed her with want, her breaths shortening and quickening in her lungs.

"I can't mo-ove, Wyatt."

"I've got you," he answered, grasping her waist in both of his large hands and sliding her onto the examining table. Her eyes were even with his chest now. He was wearing a crisp white lab coat and it only made her want to see his hard, muscular body underneath that much more. She felt movement return to her body and she reached for him, undoing the top two buttons of the thick, starched material of his coat.

"Oh, no, you don't," he said sharply, pulling his hands up from her waist and wrapping them gently around the soft flesh of her jaw, tilting her face backward, forcing her to look in his eyes. "I'm here to examine
you
. That means you need to stay still."

"But I don't want to stay still. I want to see you," she said petulantly, her bottom lip pouting in protest.

"You will see me soon enough. You will have all of me before you know it, Jenna," he whispered, then gently kissed her cheek until her eyes fluttered shut. The feel of his lips against her skin had her clutching at his coat in excitement.

With a grunt, he pulled away, dropping his hands from her neck.

Jenna opened her eyes quickly to see that his were flashing with reprimand. Suddenly, she heard a loud ripping of fabric. With a gasp, Jenna realized she was completely bare in front of him, her destroyed gown now in several strips in his hands.

Feeling shy, Jenna tried to cover herself, but he grabbed her hands in his, throwing her back on the table. Wyatt quickly tied her arms behind her. He began gripping, and then pressing down on her ankles so that she was completely exposed on the table. She struggled against her restraints, staring at him in anticipation, only to lose all vision when he took the last strip of cotton and secured it over her eyes.

Jenna's bottom rose off the table, fighting to get up, but it did her no good. He was stronger than her, and his hold was intense. She quickly settled when she felt his calloused hands moving slowly up each of her legs, gently stroking the skin of her inner thighs until she was moaning in excitement.

“Don’t move your legs, Jenna. Keep them wide open. Can you do that for me?”

Jenna moaned in reply.

Up and down, his hands moved on her flesh until Jenna was so aroused, it was almost painful.

"Please," she begged, not even embarrassed anymore, so desperate for his touch.

And then, his mouth was on her, his hair brushing the flesh of her mound and his tongue licking the soft folds between her thighs. Two of his hard fingers entered her body. They felt hard and insistent inside of her, but his tongue was soft and fast, almost reassuring.

Jenna could barely move, the cotton wrapped around her was too tight, and she didn’t dare close her legs. Each stroke of his fingers and incredible swipes of his flattened tongue against her wet pussy was at once maddening and calming.

Moans escaped from her throat, and she could feel the pleasure he was giving her all the way down to her toes. She was so incredibly close to release, begging for him to take her there, when a loud voice broke through her stupor.

"A water main break has shut down Banksville Road."

"What did you say, Wyatt?" she asked, deeply confused by his words.

"The water is freezing rapidly in these cold temperatures, so you're going to have to find an alternate route."

Jenna's eyes flashed open. There was no examining table underneath her. Her wrists were free of restraint, but her cotton bed sheets had almost mummified her body during her nighttime bout of writhing beneath them.