RUNNING GAME (A SECOND CHANCE SPORTS ROMANCE) (33 page)
Read RUNNING GAME (A SECOND CHANCE SPORTS ROMANCE) Online
Authors: Nikki Wild
Six Months Later
A
s far as proposals go
, dragging Gloria Van Lark into court was a pretty damned good way to get me to agree.
She had been true to her word, going to extreme lengths to sabotage my career. Gallery after gallery pulled my work. Lex kept me levelheaded through all of this. We were just gathering the evidence we needed.
The case was still tied up in court, but the world-renowned curator had lost a tremendous amount of influence in the art community, and her reputation was irreversibly tarnished as the truth of her escapades came out. Even if her lawyers were able to wheedle her out of any of the charges against her, despite her admissions, Gloria Van Lark would never enjoy even half the power she’d previously wielded.
And things were turning around quickly for my work… As it just so turned out… the
Spinnoc
museum was owned by an art collective known as the
Reinholdt Group
. The founder, Charles Reinholdt, had dedicated his life and his great fortune to preserving priceless art across the world for many decades. With Gloria out of the way, the Reinholdt Group reached out to me directly.
My work made it to the
Spinnoc
after all…
Lex helped pull a few strings and landed me a functional visa so we’d have time to set up a proper wedding. It beat getting hitched in Vegas…
My friends had taken my move overseas better than I could have expected… Connor and Reiko started dating not long after I left, and the two of them still come visit every once in a while.
They make a cute couple. Independent, working hard on their businesses together…
Connor even has a second location in the works.
On the day that Gloria Van Lark was marched into court, Lex proposed to me in front of the courthouse with one of the most beautiful rings I had ever seen. I couldn’t possibly say no to such a stunning declaration, and I agreed on the spot – under the condition that we take the engagement slow, and truly come to learn each other.
He didn’t see a problem with that… But he seemed to want to do most of his
learning
in the bedroom.
I didn’t see a problem with
that
either…
And Lex?
Lex Lambert is still the same smug, confident,
world-class
football player that he was before. He still leads the English National team, although the team manager saw to it that a
certain
backstabbing rival was dishonorably removed from the team.
Maybe his face wasn’t on a cereal box, but even that was only a matter of time. The sponsorship would be coming up again soon, and this time, Lex was the odds-on favorite.
Not that he cares. There are two things Lex is 100% invested in, me, and football. Well, I should say
us
, because after we talked it over… he decided to reverse the vasectomy.
We’re going to try for a baby.
I’m out of my mind happy, and Lex is completely confident that this is going to be the year that England finally earns back its glory and retakes the World Cup…
And when he does…
I’ll be in the stands, cheering him on, with my brand-new wedding ring glistening in the sun. I might even have our beautiful baby in my womb, ready to meet the world. I’ll watch him lead his team towards victory as a beloved national icon and the most capable, loving man I’ve ever met.
I like the sound of that.
Maybe I’ll paint that, too.
The End, but you’re STILL not done! Turn the page because I’ve got more bonus novel surprises waiting for you! Once again you can find a full list of the included bonuses by going to the table of contents!
You are the reason I write!
-Nikki Wild xoxoxo
B
ad Boy Fighters
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KNOCKOUT (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)
B
ad Boy Bikers
:
ROUGHNECK (A Dark Biker Romance)
Saving Landon (A Bad Boy Biker Romance)
Saved by the Bad Boy (A Devil’s Dragons Biker Romance)
Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil’s Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance)
Rough Rider (Outlaw Kings Motorcycle Club)
B
ritish Bad Boys
:
Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)
Arrogant Brit (A Bad Boy British Sports Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)
B
ad Boy Rockstars
:
Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
B
ad Boy Stepbrothers
:
Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
B
ad Boy Billionaires
:
Copyright 2016, Nikki wild
All Rights Reserved
“
D
ude
! These groupies are
totally
ready to go!” My dreadlocked bastard of a bohemian
guitarist laughed, splashing his bottle of beer in an arc.
The two hot young girls wrapped around him cooed a chorus of flirtatious giggles. They must have been just barely eighteen, clad in tight, low-cut shirts that made their silky, angelic breasts practically burst out of the seams.
Despite my lack of interest, I wasn’t about to rain on his parade. I lightly raised my own bottle of music festival beer to him, shaking my head.
“You go on ahead, man. Not feelin’ it tonight.”
No matter where we went, fans were throwing themselves at us – and my band-mates were always eager to take the free, willing pussy back to the bus for a fresh bang.
In fact, my bassist and drummer were already back there now, getting their freak on with a few nameless groupies now.
“Serious?” Waylon asked drunkenly.
His limber playing hand slid under a skirt and along a tanned, tender ass, drawing a blush from the groupie’s cheeks. The sight made my cock almost twitch.
Almost.
“You sure you don’t want to try a piece of this Alabama ‘tang?” He pressed on. “Plenty to go around. I’m not greedy.”
The groupie twosome puffed their chests and wiggled provocatively for me, giving me the deepest pair of sultry, lustful looks that they could muster.
They looked cute.
Cute, and too young to be acting like this.
“Think I’m just gonna relax and ride the vibe,” I reaffirmed. “Go get your dick wet.”
“If you say so!”
“And ladies,” I continued, turning towards the girls, who settled down and looked at me almost fearfully. “Don’t keep him up all night. This guy needs to be shredding licks same time tomorrow.”
They nodded respectfully, but Waylon jumped up to his feet, his dreads scattering around his face briefly.
“Ain’t gonna happen. This train rides ‘til sunrise! Ain’t that right, ladies?”
They chuckled with big, goofy hero-worshipping grins on their faces. He scooped them up against his sides, and soon they stumbled off towards the back of the after-party, heading for our bus.
Joke’s on them,
I thought to myself.
Waylon’s a two-pump chump on a GOOD day.
Truth of the matter was that I’d been in a funk. For the last few weeks, I had turned down sex left, right, and center from even the most flexible little minxes.
A constant stream of the hottest goddamn chicks around went fucking wild for us on the regular.
And why shouldn’t they?
We weren’t just anybody.
We were
Trent Masters and the Whiplash,
the hottest fucking rock band in America.
On national radiowaves dominated by DJs making music off of laptops, mainstream child stars glammed up and given backing bands, and egotistical personalities lacking substance and spitting shit…we brought something better.
Something
harder.
Something
real
.
Something apparently sorely missed.
Our latest album,
Twelve Machines,
was flying off the shelves across the country. The last two singles went platinum. Hell, talks of a Grammy nomination were already in the pipeline.
I was on top of the fucking world.
Or I should have felt like I was.
But all I felt was empty inside, and even the quick fix of endless sex didn’t quell the tension.
It was hard to think I was taking advantage of these girls when they grinded up against me at after-parties like this, always seeming so desperate to give my cock the old spit-shine.
It just didn’t feel right.
But… I couldn’t tell what I wanted instead.
What I
needed
.
I drank another swig from my bottle of beer, watching the other bands delight in the attention. We were in town for this badass music festival called the
RipFest
, and we’d shared the stage with some serious rock legends and decent upcoming talent.
They were having fun. Even the older, crustier guys looked like they were having a blast, likely filled with enough drugs to bring down a Bull Rhino in its prime.
It’s not like I wasn’t grateful… I was just… Lost.
The constant attention was overwhelming – too much of a great fucking thing. I had to be careful about the shit I said, because rock stars were even
closer
to scandal in this day and age.
Everything constantly recorded, rumors spread with the speed of a tweet and the snap of a camera on some girl’s iPhone.
It was all about being careful and avoiding the wrong kind of spotlight. Blogs are eager for clicks, and the whole world is ready to tear you down to build an audience.
I’d paid my dues.
No more practicing in oily garages and filthy bars. No more struggling in hard labor and backbreaking jobs to make ends meet. I wasn’t going to let some little misstep tear me down.
Despite the bullshit, the throne on this rising fucking star felt grand.
But as the light grew brighter…the shadows only grew filthier. Despite all the fame, all the success, all the money and women and the fancy toys. I knew the truth.
The world is a filthy place.
And I am the reigning king of the filth.
