Game for Seduction (Bad Boys of Football #2)(21)
Author: Bella Andre

Dominic had been right when he’d said she was green. But she was smart and capable and willing to work her ass off for her clients.

"That’s exactly what I intend to do," she stated, more serious than she’d ever been. She was going to rep Dominic. And not only would she do his career justice, she’d get some justice of her own. This time next year, when she was the top-earning agent at the McKnight Agency, her father would be eating crow. Logging off her computer, she picked up her purse and stood. "If you’ll excuse me, I have an event to attend on behalf of one of my clients."

She’d never walked out on her father; never had the last word. Until now. Cod, how she wanted to look back to see if his mouth was hanging open.

Outside, she leaned against the stone wall, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths.

Baby steps. She’d just stood up to her father and lightning hadn’t struck. She opened her eyes. Not only was she fine, she felt better than ever.

A wave of giddiness swept over her. She was an agent with two high-profile clients! Yes, she was scared, but she’d been doing an agent’s job for the past couple of years. She knew what the job entailed. Now she just needed to do it.

Stepping out to the curb, she hailed a cab. "DiMarco Stadium, please. Inner Sunset."

The Dominator was now officially her client. Her very own heartbreaking, orgasm-inducing, bad boy of football.

Dominic resisted the urge to scan the parking lot again for Melissa. He’d done events like this a million times; he didn’t need an agent to hold his hand. Hell, he shouldn’t want to see her this badly—it had been only a few hours since he’d had sex with her. No other woman had ever insinuated herself into his head—and body—this badly or this quickly.

He was proud of what his success and money had accomplished in the Inner Sunset district of San Fran cisco. These kids didn’t have football teams in their schools because the district didn’t have the money for fields, lights, uniforms, or coaches. DiMarco Stadium was just the beginning. He headed up a board made up of some of the biggest local players in the business, along with several dot-com billionaires he’d befriended over the years. Yet his achievement suddenly felt empty.

He was listening to a teacher tell him how excited the kids were about meeting him, when his skin started buzzing. Melissa had arrived. Excusing himself from the conversation, he turned and went to her.

She looked straight at him. There was something different about her.

She looked incredibly confident, almost fierce. And even more beautiful, if such a thing could be possible.

He was tempted to pull her into the new locker room and take her against the bright red metal lockers.

Shit. He needed to shake off the fantasy. But he couldn’t get his thoughts straight, couldn’t figure out how he would normally have greeted her before they’d starting sleeping together. Not when she smelled so good and looked so amazing.

She broke the silence, saving his ass. "Congratulations on the stadium, Dominic," she said as she looked around at the bright green Astroturf, the gleaming wood stands, the professional lighting. "You’re really doing a great thing for these kids. I’ll bet we see some great college players come out of here."

God, she was incredible. How long had he searched for a woman who understood his passion for the game? Melissa was so involved in every aspect of football. She had to be, to do her job right. But it was more than that. She was truly interested in doing good with it, too—unlike some agents, who were in it only for a quick buck and would sell a player out to the highest bidder regardless of the reason.

She really did deserve better than him. She deserved the suburban house and the white picket fence. She deserved a guy who came from a solid background like hers.

Not someone who’d nearly killed his best friend.

Not a guy who lived with his past every goddamn day, who kept his secrets hidden like a coward, so they’d never see the light of day.

Dominic’s mouth was tight when he finally replied. "They’ve accomplished a lot so far. I’m pleased."

"It’s okay to take some of the credit," she said as she placed a hand on his arm. "It was your money that made all this happen."

Money was the easy part. Being happy—and living right—took work. Still, he wasn’t going to take credit for all the work of the many people who had gotten this district stadium off the ground.

The event organizer came by to see if he needed anything, and Melissa introduced herself. "I’m Melissa McKnight, Dominic’s agent."

Dominic schooled his face into an expressionless mask until the woman walked away. "When did you change your mind?"

"We need to go sit down on the stage," she said, leading him across the field like a dog on a leash, adding, "This afternoon," as an afterthought.

He wanted to pull her against him, kiss her senseless, and find out what her reason was. But he couldn’t do that in front of all of these people. Not ever, if he listened to his conscience.

"Working with you will be no different than working with JP," she said in a firm voice.

"Watch your back around him," he warned.

Fire lit her eyes. "Seems to me I should be far more worried about you."

With that, she walked away to introduce herself to other members of his board. Since her father had been in the business for so many years, she knew several of the retired players.

"Melissa," James said, "I haven’t seen you in years. You’ve certainly grown up well." A couple of other guys added their compliments, making her blush.

Dominic saw red. Didn’t they realize she was too young for them? Too innocent? They were all married with kids now, but he knew their dirty, f**k-filled pasts.

Silently, Dominic worked out whom he was going to take down first. James had been a middle linebacker, but with his speed, Dominic knew how to make the big guys wish they’d never gotten in his face. He would enjoy taking each of them apart piece by piece. He’d easily find other players to take their places on his board.

Listening to himself, Dominic could see that he was turning into a crazy man. Jesus. How could he expect these guys to act like father figures, rather than horny guys trying to get into her pants or look down her dress, when he couldn’t manage it for even thirty seconds?

A dozen teenage boys walked up to their group, and Dominic turned his attention to them. Ultimately, football had saved his life. Without it, he would have been just be another statistic. Another underage drunk driver who’d wrapped his stolen car around a tree because he had no future to live for. Dominic hoped that the year-round football program he was putting together here would help these kids stay out of trouble. Or get them out of any trouble they were already in.