Page 39 of Hot Receiver

“I think you said plenty the other day. If there’s anything more, shove it up your ass because I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“Yet you still let me come up here. Are you sure you’re not interested? Because I think you’re a liar, Zak.” I take a step forward, my pulse rocketing out of control, all thoughts of rallying the team evaporating from my mind under the heat of his stare. “And I think you’re interested in a hell of a lot more than you want to admit.”

Chapter 18

Zak

Istare at Matt standing in my foyer, trying like hell to keep my eyes on his face instead of letting them have free rein to roam the length of his rock-hard body. Even in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he reeks of sex and sin and everything I’ve fantasized about since he crashed back into my life. His eyes pop against his tan and flushed face, his hair slicked back like he just stepped out of the shower.

Shower.

I’d love to be in the shower with him, feeling his slick skin slide against mine while he writhes against my cock, grinding his hips into me when I stroke his hard length…

Goddamn it, letting him up here was a fucking stupid idea.

But I’m so lost right now, I don’t know which way to turn. My head is swimming with toxic thoughts that threaten to swallow me whole. They’ve been looping through my mind since that meeting with Jake and Marc, and nothing I do can stop them from bubbling up. Booze has no effect. Neither did a grueling workout. I can’t clear my head. Any shred of peace is completely beyond my reach.

Then, I got the call from the front desk. And a sliver of calm made its way through all the noise. So, I told security to send Matt up. But seeing him here, now, looking like the sexy as fuck guy I fell in love with all those years ago… the one I’ve fallen for all over again… it makes me realize what an idiot I really am.

Because with Matt, that semblance of calm always precedes a horrific storm.

Without fucking fail.

So, it doesn’t matter how good he looks, how tempting it’d be to strip him naked and dominate him physically.

The emotional destruction he inevitably causes isn’t worth the pleasure.

“Don’t tell me what I feel.” My words are tight, tense, and laced with anger. “You don’t know anything about me anymore. I’m not the same naïve fucking moron I was back in college, okay? You said a lot of words back then, a lot of words I believed in. But when it came time for action, you bolted. And I don’t need you in my face now, challenging me when you gave up on me. Onus.”

Shit. I didn’t mean for those words to spew. Now, I sound like a scorned and jilted ex-lover. My fingers ball into tight fists. This man has the power to twist my brain and crush my heart like no other.

I want to smash his face in. Again.

“You need to talk to someone.” Matt inches closer to me. “Let me help you.”

I let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You want to helpme? Now? Are you delusional, Matt? Or just that desperate for redemption?”

A strand of hair falls forward over his eyes. He pushes it back, his eyebrows knitted together. “I saw the news. About you and your mom outside that restaurant. I know what the media are saying about you and it’s not right.”

I turn away and walk toward the bar. “Yeah, so what? Were you upset you couldn’t be there to save me from myself again?”

“I think you have a lot going on right now and nobody to help you through it.”

I twist to glare at him. “And you thought I’d wantyouto be that guy?”

He recoils like I just slapped him, and that pisses me off even more. Where does he get the goddamn nerve to walk in here with a psychological assessment of my mental state? Yeah, it’s pretty much fucked, but doesn’t he realize he’s to blame for at least part of it?

“Look, I know we have a past, and I made a lot of mistakes back then.” He averts his eyes. “So many fucking mistakes,” he mutters, almost to himself. His gaze locks on the hardwood floor for a beat until something whips him back into the moment.

“We both did,” I say with a cold edge to my voice. “My biggest one was trusting you. So, why the fuck would I take another chance on you now? Unless this is another publicity stunt Marc put you up to. Golden boy Matt to the rescue when the prick owner goes off the deep end and falls into a world of media-spun shit. Again. Because people are narrow-minded assholes.”

“This isn’t a publicity stunt. I’m here because I’m concerned about you.”

“But you weren’t concerned the other day when you let me fuck you and then told me to piss off.”

A deep pink flush colors his cheeks even more. “That was an asshole thing to do. And I’m sorry. You aren’t the only one having a rough time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s hard being a rich and famous All-American NFL player with a hot, blonde actress on your arm, whoclearly fucking adores you. What a fucking nightmare it is to be you.”

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