DELAY OF GAME

Jade Dollston

Copyright

Copyright © 2022 by Jade Dollston

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Short quotes for book reviews are acceptable. For permissions, contact: [email protected]

Cover Design by Sammi Bee Designs

Editing and proofreading by Chrisandra, Master of the English Language, Commander of Commas, Princess of Punctuation, Goddess of Editing. That's actually on her birth certificate. True story.

Copy and sensitivity edits by Indie Edits with Jeanine and Corbeaux Editorial Services.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses and locations are either products of the writer's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT AND PROFANITY. READERS 18+ ONLY.

Dedication

This book, my debut novel, is dedicated to my daughter. I love you with all of my heart. You've given me support and confidence that I can do this thing that I'm doing.

Also, DO NOT read past this page.

If you ignore the above plea, just know that "those parts" of this book are total figments of my imagination. I've never actually done any of them. Except that one time…

PRE-GAME

PRE-GAME

(Prologue)

Blue.

It’s one of the most common colors in the world. There’s the lightest blue of a cloudless Texas sky, and there’s the deepest blue of the yawning depths of the ocean. With about a million shades in between.

But the blue I’m seeing right now is making it difficult for me to pull oxygen into my lungs.

It’s bright. Sparkling. Almost like a pair of sapphires set high on the most cherubic face I have ever seen. The darkest blue surrounds the little girl’s pupils, and the facets and flecks of her irises lighten toward the outside as I search them with a sense of near desperation.

Framed by long, dark lashes, those orbs regard me curiously. Probably wondering why the hell I’m staring like I’ve seen a ghost.

It isn’t that I’ve never seen that particular hue before. To the contrary, I see an identical set of sapphire eyes every single day.

When I look in the mirror.

I don’t even need to glance at her mother to confirm what I already know.

Carrie Cavanaugh is my daughter.

FIRST QUARTER

FIRST QUARTER

1. Blaire

Blaire

Five Years Ago

I packed my cap and gown in one of the few open boxes left in my tiny apartment and sealed the top. My eyes swept the near-empty room, and I felt a sad smile creep across my lips. I was going to miss this place, but I had bigger things on the horizon.

Checking the closet and all the drawers in the bedroom for about the fiftieth time, I noted that nothing had miraculously appeared inside them since I last checked an hour ago.

Yeah, I’m a tiny bit neurotic. You almost have to be to earn a degree in Biochemistry with a 4.0 GPA at Texas A&M University. And to ace the MCAT exam for med school.

I checked the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom once more before setting a towel and washcloth on the edge of the spotless white bathtub. I made a mental note to wash them with my sheets in the morning.

Putting my phone on the floor beside the tub so I could call Axel while I was bathing, I turned to the mirror and scraped my thick auburn hair up into a high ponytail. I wanted to make sure he was coming over tonight so I could finally talk to him privately. I had put it off for two days because we had been surrounded by our families, who had arrived in College Station, Texas, for our college graduation ceremonies, but it was time.

Fuck, I’m nervous about the conversation we’re going to have, I thought as I walked back into my bedroom and bent to grab some clean underwear from the box labeled “Lingerie.”

Someone grabbed me from behind, and I screamed, but a large hand went over my mouth and stifled the sound. My heart rate kicked up a notch until I recognized the familiar scent, and it eased to a steady thump. Then I was being spun around and lifted with a set of big, strong arms around my butt until my chest was level with his face. My boyfriend, Axel, looked up at me with his most wicked grin. “Hey, sweet thang,” he said.

Though it was probably no more bothersome than a fly landing on him, I swatted at his broad, hard chest. “Dammit, Ax. You scared the hell out of me. You’re awfully stealthy for a big guy.”

“And you’re awfully beautiful for a genius.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“That’s what I was counting on,” he said, circling his nose around my left breast. A low hum of appreciation had his lips vibrating against my skin as he sucked my nipple into his mouth through my shirt. When he pulled his head back and looked up at me, his sapphire-blue eyes drew me into their glinting depths. “Do you have any idea how fucking proud I am of you?”

I rested my hands on his broad shoulders and leaned down to kiss his soft lips. “I’m proud of you, too, baby.”

Axel scoffed. “What the hell did I do? You’re the one who graduated summa cum laude with a degree in bio-fucking-chemistry, whereas I scraped by with a 2.9 in Kinesiology.”

I frowned down at him, hating when he put himself down. “But you graduated, Ax. Do you know how many athletes never make it across that graduation stage? You could have gone pro last year, but you stuck it out for your senior year to get your degree, and I love that about you. And your GPA would have been much higher if you didn’t have football practice and games all the time, while I spent all my free time studying in the library.” I punctuated my next words with smacking kisses against his lips. “I. Am. Proud. Of. You. Axel. Broxton.”

“You’re so good for me, Blaire Atwood.” He let my body slide down his until my feet touched the floor, but his arms stayed around me. “I’m so glad you encouraged me to stick around for my senior year,” he said, running his fingers through my long golden-red ponytail as I lay my head on his muscular chest. Axel had been predicted to go late in the second or early in the third round of the NFL draft if he’d chosen to forgo his fourth year. I had talked him out of it, wanting him to earn his degree instead of entering the draft a year early.

“And you made a name for yourself as the best tight end in college football this year,” I said, smiling up at his gorgeous face. Axel’s decision to stay in college had benefited him in more ways than just earning his degree.

Ax kissed the tip of my nose. “So, instead, I got drafted by Boston in the first round, increasing my salary and earning me a hefty signing bonus.” His bright-blue eyes sparkled down at me.

Ax stood at six foot five and was a wall of solid hunky muscle, so I had to look up at him when I was standing flat-footed like I was now. “How did you escape the parental units so early? I wasn’t expecting you for at least another hour.” He had gone to a post-graduation dinner with his family at a fancy steakhouse, while I went with my only family, my brother Beau, to Koppe Bridge Bar & Grill, a not-so-fancy restaurant with the best burgers in town.

“I told them I was cutting out early because I was horny as fuck and needed to dip my wick in your sweet little candle holder.”

I winced at the thought of Axel saying that to his uptight parents. “Jesus, Ax. I’m sure your father loved that. How many times did he call me a gold digger tonight?”

His face turned serious as he lifted my chin with his forefinger and brushed his thumb against my bottom lip. “Don’t worry about my father. He’s an asshole, and his opinions are all fucked up because of Jennifer, but he’ll come around once he gets to know you better,” he said, referring to his dad’s gold digging first wife, who had left him high and dry after three years of marriage, taking a large chunk of his considerable net worth along with her.

“Yeah, maybe,” I mumbled reluctantly. Ax nuzzled his nose against the crease forming between my eyes and then kissed me there. “But babe, we’ve been dating for almost two years now, and your father has only spoken maybe twenty words to me. He hates me.”

“My mom loves you,” he said reassuringly, pressing his lips softly to mine. It didn’t go unnoticed that he didn’t deny his father’s feelings about me. “And my brother thinks you’re the shit.”

“You know I adore Violet and Oliver, but how are we going to spend the rest of our lives together if your dad doesn’t like me?”

Axel’s big hands cupped my face as his blue eyes locked onto my green ones. “I like you, Bear, and that’s all that matters. We’re going to be living in Boston for at least the next four years, since you’re going to Harvard Med School. So, we will barely see my family.”

“I guess,” I conceded, though it seemed like avoiding the situation was similar to putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

I toyed with the gorgeous platinum bracelet Axel had bought me, my thumb finding the roughness of the AB + BA that he’d had engraved on it. Axel Broxton and Blaire Atwood. I kinda had a thing for letter patterns and loved that my and Axel’s initials were mirrored. Call me cheesy, but it seemed like destiny to me.

Axel lifted my hand and kissed the soft underside of my wrist. “I’m going to make a name for myself in the NFL, and you’re going to kill it in med school. And we’ll live happily ever after.”

I ran my free hand across Axel’s stubble and up through his dark hair which, combined with his blue eyes, was a potent aphrodisiac. The man always seemed to have stubble, which was uber sexy to me. He could shave and be baby-butt smooth in the morning, and by noon, he had a five o’clock shadow.

Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed the length of my body against his hard, muscled torso and whispered in his ear, “Happily ever after, huh? You must love me or something.”

His grip tightened around me, his lips sucking softly on my earlobe. “A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” I asked, feigning offense.

I could sense him smiling against the skin of my neck, his hands sliding up and down my sides before coming to rest on the sides of my breasts. “Maybe if you let me suck on your perfect tits for a while, I’ll reconsider my evaluation.”

Knowing that once he got started, we were going to be busy for a while, I attempted to initiate the very important conversation I needed to have with him. “Axel, we really need to talk about some things.” He scooped me up, temporarily distracting me as I wrapped my legs around his waist, finding that he was already hard and ready for me. “Do you always have to manhandle me?” I asked with a laugh.

“You know you like it, Blaire Bear.” His long fingers sank into the flesh of my butt as he uttered my nickname. He was right; I loved how strong he was and how he could pick me up and toss me around. “Especially when I’m manhandling you around the bedroom,” he growled as he carried me across the room. He threw me on the bed, where I bounced once as he started crawling over my body like a sexy fucking predator.

Axel pulled my T-shirt off in one swift movement and threw it over his shoulder. “We won’t be needing that,” he said. Then he worked my panties over my hips and down my legs before tossing them over his other shoulder as his eyes twinkled up at me. “And we certainly won’t be needing those.” He planted open-mouthed kisses all over my stomach. My very flat stomach. Dammit, we really needed to have that conversation ASAP.

“Ax, baby. I need to talk to you about something important,” I said, pushing against his shoulders. He stood and reached behind his neck to pull his shirt off, and the rest of the words hung on my lips, only to slide backward across my tongue and down my throat, forgotten in an instant.

Sweet Lord, he is gorgeous. No matter how many times I saw Ax with his shirt off, I always had the same reaction, which was about a half step away from drooling.

Okay, full disclosure, sometimes I did drool a little bit.

“Sex first, talk later.” His deep voice rumbled through me, even from several feet away. “We haven’t been alone in two days, baby.”

My eyes tracked over his muscular chest and six-pack abs. God, and that sexy line of V muscles that pointed directly into his pants like an arrow on a naughty treasure map.

“I swear, your body looks like it was personally sculpted by the right hand of God, Ax.” Then he dropped his pants, and my eyes lowered to between his legs. “Except for that part,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “That was handcrafted by the devil himself.”

Axel took his long, thick cock in his hand and stroked it as his eyes bored into mine. He knew what it did to me when he touched himself like that. “So, do you want me to put my wicked devil dick inside you, Blaire? Make you come so hard your neighbors will be screaming my name?” I knew from experience that he wasn’t simply dirty talking to me. Axel Broxton didn’t just have a big dick; he knew what to do with the damn thing.

“If you think that’s something you’re capable of,” I taunted.

A slow grin crept across his face as he knelt on the bed and traced his tongue over the soft skin on the undersides of my breasts. “Challenge accepted, Bear,” he muttered just before his lips closed around one nipple and suckled softly. He slipped one hand between my legs and circled my clit with two long fingers, teasing me before sliding those magical digits inside me.

My hips lifted involuntarily, seeking more. “Please, Ax,” I whimpered. “I need you inside me.”

“I know, baby, but I haven’t even tasted this lovely tit over here,” he said, dropping wet kisses across my chest and taking my other nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard and swirled his tongue around the tip until it was as hard as the other one. Lifting his head, he surveyed his handiwork. “There. That’s better. I don’t want to live in a world where breasts are treated unequally. Only through nipple equality can we achieve our goal of world peace.”

“Okay, Socrates, maybe you should have majored in philosophy,” I said with a giggle that was suddenly quashed when he pumped my sex harder and circled my clit with his thumb.

“I’m deep, sweetheart.”

“Not yet, you’re not,” I groaned as he sucked his way up my neck while still finger-fucking me with a vengeance. My eyes closed, and my hips lifted off the bed to meet his carnal onslaught.

“Mmmm, you want me deep inside your sweet pussy, baby?”

I wound my fingers through his inky hair and tugged. “Yes. Now, Axel. I’m about to come, but I want you inside me.” He pulled his fingers out of me and rubbed the swollen head of his erection through my slick folds as he licked his digits clean, his steamy gaze never leaving mine. Jesus, it’s hot when he does that.

Axel rested on his forearms, cradling my head with both hands as he pushed his tip inside me. His entire face softened with affection. “I love you so much, Blaire. More than anything.”

Damn, this dirty-talking man can be sweet when he wants to.

I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him down onto me, a thin layer of sweat already forming between our bodies. “I love you, too, Axel.” He pushed all the way into me in a single hard stroke, and we both groaned before his lips took mine in a bruising kiss. Then he was driving forcefully into me, and I cried out into his mouth as his thick crown stroked me exactly where I needed him. I swear to God, this man had the exact GPS coordinates for my G-spot, and he hit it every damn time.

“You’re so. Fucking. Hot,” he grunted, punctuating each word with a slick, deep thrust into my core.

I clenched my eyes tightly shut as I started to come, pressing my face against his shoulder. “Ax baby, I’m coming. So. Hard. God, yes!” I was clutching him with my arms and legs as he rode out my orgasm with deliberate, powerful thrusts, all the colors of a kaleidoscope flashing against the dark backdrop of my eyelids as the climax overtook my body.

He kissed the side of my face, and I could feel him smiling. He smiled every time I came. I think he enjoyed my orgasms more than he did his own. “Damn, that was so good, Axel,” I panted against his shoulder.

He sat back on his heels and hauled me up against him like I weighed nothing. “Ride me, sweetheart,” he urged as his big hands gripped my hips and guided me up and down his length. “God, Blaire. Yes, baby. Fuck me with that tight little pussy.” He was slamming me down onto him as he thrust upward to meet me, and I rested my face in the crook of his neck, licking and sucking his salty skin frantically as we pounded against each other. “I missed you so much, Blaire,” Ax whispered.

“I missed you, too. God, you’re so deep inside me, Ax,” I moaned as I stroked my hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles bunch with every movement. Then I squeezed his rock-hard biceps and felt my pussy start to clench. Axel Fucking Broxton was hands down the champion of arm porn fantasies. I could almost come just by looking at his huge biceps and thick forearms. Add that to his dick pummeling my cervix, and I was tossed directly into the throes of another killer orgasm.

“Fuck, Blaire. I feel you, baby. I’m coming… with… you… oh, Godddd.” I felt my man warming me from the inside as his cum filled me up, his breaths harsh and ragged against my bare shoulder. He bit out another string of curses as our bodies slowed and moved together until the last tremors of ecstasy faded away. Axel’s hands were suddenly tender and languid on my back as we struggled to catch our breath. “I’m pretty sure… we’re going to… kill each other one day. We’re just going to fuck until we collapse and die.”

I grinned against his shoulder. “We could save money on burial plots if they could just bury us together, still connected.”

He pulled back and arched an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know if that’s romantic, disturbing, or downright cheap,” Axel said, pulling out of me and stretching us out on our sides, facing each other.

“Gives a whole new meaning to the word ‘stiffy,’” I cracked.

He closed his eyes and shook his head mirthfully, though I could see a smile trying to sneak its way across his kiss-swollen lips. He arranged the covers over us and scooted down in the bed so that our eyes were level. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about, angel?” His thumb skated sweetly over the apple of my cheek.

Oh, fuck. He had distracted me so well I had forgotten about it for a little while. The dreaded conversation.

“Why don’t we get up and put some clothes on?” I said in an obvious stall tactic, rolling away from him.

He grabbed my hip and pulled me closer to him. “I prefer naked talking. It’s my favorite kind.” His eyes searched mine, and his smile faded as he took in my serious look. “Just tell me, baby.”

“Well, um, I kinda have some news,” I said, my voice trembling with nerves.

He frowned. “You haven’t changed your mind about Harvard, have you?” His hand was stroking comfortingly up and down my side.

“No, no. Still definitely going to Harvard.” Dammit, Blaire. Just spit it out. “Ax, I’m, uhhhh… I’m pregnant.”

He stilled. Didn’t move a muscle. For a very long moment. I stared into his eyes, but he closed them as his jaw tensed.

Was he nervous? Excited? Scared? Because I was all three of those things in equal measure.

Then he rolled away from me and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, leaving me feeling cold. Physically and emotionally.

Well, shit.

“Baby, say something,” I said, reaching over to tentatively touch his back, but he jerked away from me like I had burned him.

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