Page 23

Jordan

T he ride from the arena to the house is completely silent. Sutton opens her mouth four different times like she wants to say something, only to snap it closed again. I can only guess where her mind is at, what she’s thinking.

I can’t fucking believe he actually told the truth. I don’t think I will believe it until I read that statement for myself. But I want to be at home when we do it, behind closed doors. I don’t want her reaction spread all across the world…and I damn sure don’t trust Charles not to do exactly that.

Sutton may have hope for that prick, but I don’t. He’s burned my team one too many times already.

I pull into the garage and kill the engine before circling around to lift her out of the truck. She trembles against me as I carry her inside, not stopping until we’re in the bedroom.

I settle on the chaise, pulling her down onto my lap. My iPad is still on the table beside the chaise. I leave it there for a moment, focused on Sutton…on making sure she’s ready for whatever we’re about to read.

I tip her head back, scrutinizing her beautiful face. She’s still trembling faintly, but her eyes are clear.

“I love you,” I remind her, needing her to hear that before we start picking at a wound that’s barely started to heal.

“I love you, too,” she whispers.

“No matter what it says, that doesn’t change. We don’t change.”

Her brows furrow. “You think we will?”

Do I?

“No,” I say carefully. “But I know what it’s like to be in the middle of a media shitstorm. If he really told the truth about what he did and why I put him in the hospital, that’s what’s coming for him. It’ll probably come for us, too.”

Once they find out we’re together, there will be no avoiding it.

Maybe we could have flown under the radar before Jamison came clean, but now?

Hell no. Even if Montaque doesn’t out us, someone will.

People will be all up in our business. I mean, I got booted from the team because of him.

And now I’m dating his sister? Oh yeah, they’re going to talk.

I don’t really give a shit what they say about me. But what they say about her matters to me. A whole helluva lot.

“I don’t care,” she whispers vehemently, placing her palm against my cheek.

“I don’t care what they think about us, Jordan.

I don’t care what they say about me. They can point fingers and say I chose you over him.

They can question my loyalty. I don’t care.

I love you. That’s worth any sacrifice to me.

” Her lips quirk into a tiny grin. “Besides, the sooner they know about us, the sooner everyone knows you’re off the market. That’s not a bad thing.”

A short bark of laughter rumbles from my lips as she gets all territorial and possessive. As if she has anything to worry about. Other women don’t exist to me. It’s always been her. “You jealous, baby?”

“No.” Her thumb sweeps along my bottom lip. “I’m just glad the whole world will finally know that I’m yours and you're mine. If they want to follow us around for a while and say stupid shit, let them. I don’t care so long as it’s still me and you when the dust settles.”

I haul her closer and kiss her breathless. “It’ll always be me and you.”

“Good.” Her lips curve against mine. “Then let’s read this statement and deal with it. You promised me orgasms when we got home.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

“Mmhmm,” she hums, making me chuckle.

I shift her around until she’s sitting in front of me just like she did when she talked with Vanessa earlier and then reach for the tablet. It doesn’t take me long to find her brother’s statement. It’s all over the goddamn place.

Jamison Peters has announced his retirement from the Bucks!

New York – Jamison Peters, captain of the New York Bucks, has announced his retirement after eight years with the team to seek rehabilitation for alcohol addiction.

“I’ve been selfish and hurt a lot of people over the years,” he said in a statement released by the Bucks organization just a little while ago. “More importantly, I’ve caused damage that I can’t undo.

Five years ago, my former teammate, Jordan Silvestri, hospitalized me in the middle of a game.

I let management, our fans, and the people closest to us believe he attacked me over a woman, but I left out the most important details, the ones that told the whole story.

Jordan didn’t attack me without provocation.

He hit me in defense of someone we both cared deeply about after I took intimate videos of her without her consent or knowledge and shared them with others.

I deserved what he did, and I deserve your condemnation now.

To the people I hurt, I’m genuinely sorry.

I wish I could take it back or undo the lasting damage I’ve caused.

To my sister, Sutton, I’m sorry I’ve let you down.

To the woman I victimized and to Jordan, neither of you deserved what I did.

There are no excuses or justifications for my behavior. I’m sorry.

Finally, to the fans who trusted me and the teammates who counted on me, I’m sorry I misled you. I am not an example to live by or a role model, and my behavior should in no way reflect on the league or the Bucks organization.

I’m stepping away from the Bucks, effectively immediately, to enter treatment for alcohol addiction. But let me be clear: my addiction is not an excuse for what I did, nor is it a reason. It’s the result of years of shame. And the blame for that is solely on me.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, sinking back against the chair. The article goes on to dissect the statement and includes social media reactions from fans, but I don’t read any of that. I don’t fucking care about it. The only thing that matters to me is the woman weeping quietly on my lap as she reads.

She doesn’t say a word when she’s finished. She just powers off the screen of the tablet and then curls up with her head against my shoulder and her palm over my chest. I wrap my arms around her, my head resting atop hers.

I don’t know how long we sit there before she finally speaks.

“I can’t believe he finally told the truth,” she whispers, her voice gritty and raw. “Do you think…” She bites her lip, hesitating. “Should I…?”

“Go see him?” I guess.

She flicks a worried look up at me. “Is it wrong that I’m worried about him?”

“He’s your brother, princess,” I murmur gently, brushing my lips across her forehead. “You don’t just quit loving someone because they fucked up. If you were capable of that, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

She sighs softly.

“Go see him if that’s what you need to do.

I won’t tell you no.” I tip her head back, make sure she sees me.

“So long as he doesn’t hurt you again, I won’t stand between the two of you.

If you want to rebuild your relationship with him, I won’t be the thing standing in your way. The choice is yours.”

“I know.” She reaches up, touching my face. “I love you for that, you know.”

I kiss her palm. “I love you, too.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet.”

“Then don’t. You’re allowed to take time.

You’re allowed to need distance. You make the rules for how you navigate this.

” I’ve had five years to process and deal.

She’s had days. It’s not going to be smooth sailing and calm seas, not for a fucking while.

But she will be okay. I know she will because I refuse to accept anything less.

“Take me to bed,” she says softly. “Make me forget everything but your name.”

I carefully set the iPad aside and then lift her into my arms, carrying her to bed. Neither of us speaks as I undress her, stripping each piece of clothing from her slowly. Every new strip of skin I unveil, I worship with my lips and tongue, with whispered praise and shaking hands.

By the time she’s spread out beneath me, she’s trembling, my name whispering from her lips in a soft litany. I haul her legs over my shoulders, staring down at her.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, princess,” I say simply. It’s the truth. Even stretched thin and nearly broken open by everything she’s learned lately, she steals my breath. “I love you.”

The Earth revolves around the sun. The moon is in our field of gravity. And I love her. That’s the simplest truth I know. It’s the one that rules my entire world.

She sobs my name as I dip my head, worshiping her with my lips and tongue until she’s cracking apart for me, coming all over my tongue.

I keep going, pulling another one from her.

And then another. If she’s thinking about anything now, it’s not her brother.

It’s not the past. It’s how good she feels… how good she should always feel.

“Jordan,” she moans, her head thrown back, when I push inside her. Her pussy wraps around me, scorching hot and so damn perfect. Jesus. This is heaven. Being here with her like this…it was worth every second of the last five years. It’s worth anything.

I don’t fuck her. I make love to her slowly. So fucking slowly I can’t breathe. She’s strangling my cock, sobbing my name…ruining me the same way she always does.

I whisper every truth I know as I stroke inside her, my lips never leaving her skin.

“You’re my world, baby.” My lips slide down her collarbone, dipping into that hollow that makes her whimper. “You’ll always be my world.” I nip the underside of her jaw. “My whole fucking life is better because you’re in it.”

“Jordan,” she cries, clinging to me even more tightly.

“I’ll never stop loving you, never stop worshipping you.” I wrap my tongue around the shell of her ear. “Never fucking stop making you feel like this, Sutton.”

“Please, please,” she cries. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” I vow, rocking into her again and again. I get lost in the rhythm and the taste of her skin beneath my lips. In the way her body glides against mine, cradling me. And in the sweet way she cries out for me over and over.

I make love to her for hours, only stopping when she’s too wrung out to take anymore. We fall together the final time, so wrapped up in each other, I feel her heart pounding against my chest, and I know she feels mine beating wildly for her.

The same damn way it always will.