Dirty Players

Chapter 7

Zoe

I was humming along to a song on the TV, singing the parts that I knew, when I realized Howard was standing at the kitchen doorway just staring at me, and I stopped.

"Don't stop," he said, laughing. "You have a nice voice."

I grimaced. "If you think so, you're probably tone deaf."

"Well, dinner's ready, so you can come and eat. Or would you rather I bring it here?"

"No, that's fine." I jumped up, taking the remote to turn the volume up on the music, then walking over to Howard, following the nice smell coming from the kitchen I'd only just noticed. "What did you make? It smells delicious."

"I thought something simple would be best. We're having baked chicken with stuffed baked potatoes. I cut up the chicken into strips, so you can just set the table. Do you have barbecue sauce? I like to have something to dip it in."

"Sure."

I got some plates and cutlery and transferred them to the table. Howard brought everything over and set them in the middle. I took several strips of chicken and a baked potato. I took a bite out of each, and groaned at the amazing taste.

"How the heck are you better than me at cooking," I grumbled in mock annoyance.

"I guess I've just got the touch," he said with a chuckle. "I used to help Mom with cooking. Dad left us when I was really young, I barely remember him, so it was just Mom and me for the longest time. I started helping out with cooking and other chores in the house around middle school because it took a lot of effort for her to work and raise a kid on her own. I pretty much looked after myself just to give her a break."

I smiled sadly as I ate another strip of chicken. "I never did that. Mom always insisted on doing everything since it was the only job she had, taking care of Dad and me. She did everything without complaint, even up until she got sick. Dad and I barely knew how to take care of ourselves without her around."

It wasn't until I was around eighteen, when Mom got really sick, that I started learning to cook, and it had been an uphill battle since then. Dad was an even worse cook, having never stepped foot in a kitchen for anything other than getting his coffee and maybe some toast, so back then, it was left to me. I'd cook, and sometimes the food would come out great and sometimes not so great. When I was distracted, I'd forget and everything would burn.

Things weren't easy for us back then. Not for either Dad or me. We both woke up in the morning and had breakfast prepared, if we were home for lunch then Mom cooked without being asked and called us for food. The same for dinner. There was never one time I remembered going up to Mom and saying 'I'm hungry' because she always seemed to know and took care of it before it was a problem.

Mom really took care of us.

It was depressing, every time I thought about my mom. So much time had gone by, but the pain didn't lessen, I just got used to it. There were times I could even picture the happy times, and I no longer cried over it, except for two specific dates. Her birthday, which we'd always celebrated, just the two of us even if Dad was busy with something, and the anniversary of her death.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Howard said, breaking me out of my thoughts. When I met his gaze, his expression as he watched me was sympathetic. "What did she have?"

I sighed. "She had cancer. I can't even remember which kind of cancer, because that time of my life is really hazy. It was several years before she actually died from the day she got diagnosed, but it felt like the time passed by so fast... it's hard to believe it's been five whole years since then."

"And you miss her," he stated.

"Of course. How could I not? She and I were pretty close. You're lucky you still have your mom with you."

I stabbed at a piece of chicken. I didn't mean to make the mood so melancholic, but I couldn't help it. This wasn't something I should be able to get over. Then, Howard chuckled, and I looked up, frowning.

"What's so funny?"

He smiled. "It's not that there's anything funny. You realize this is the first time you've talked to me about anything personal?"

My frown deepened. "That's not true. You and I talk all the time. I've even told you about–"

"Everything you've ever talked to me about, has something to do with the team. Even if it's something personal, it has something to do with the team, how you really want the GM position but your dad won't allow you and such. This is the first time I'm hearing about your personal life entirely outside of football."

"I told you about my friends that one time," I said defensively.

"You did," he agreed. "But that was because I happened to meet you outside when you were with one of them. You couldn't even bring yourself to introduce me to her. Really, Zoe, I would think you were ashamed of me or something."

"It's not that, it's just..."

Because we weren't really together, I didn't think there was any reason to be involved in each other's personal lives. Of course, then it turned out Dad and his mom were dating, so I'd even met his mom already, which was a step higher than any other guy I'd been with, and Howard and I weren't even officially dating.

I'd thought that this whole time, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words right then. It felt like something was choking me. Clearing my throat, I set down my fork and got up.

"I think I'd like something to drink. Do you want anything? Or just water again?"

"I'll have what you're having," he said simply.

I was relieved when he went along with me changing the subject. I went to the fridge and looked over the choices. There was some beer in the fridge, but it was Dad's. I never touched his alcohol in case he asked about it, because it would lead to a conversation, I didn't need to have with my dad at twenty-six.

We had some wine bottles that had been around for a few years. It was a good thing that wine didn't expire with age. Dad rarely touched them, since they'd been Mom's, and I occasionally drank a glass when I was in a particularly bad mood, but I didn't break any of them out today. There was lemonade, so I poured two glasses of that and went back to the table.

"Lemonade with chicken?" He asked skeptically.

I chuckled. "One of my mom's favorite pairings. Actually, she'd have it with wine, but because I couldn't drink wine, she would drink lemonade with me. A lot of my friends would go for chicken with beer back in college, but I always have it with lemonade, or lemon water. If I don't have that I'll have orange juice."

Howard followed my lead as I ate a bite of chicken and washed it down with the lemonade. The taste was nostalgic for me, and Howard seemed pleasantly surprised.

"You like it?"

He nodded. "It surprisingly works."

We continued to eat in silence for a while. Even when we didn't talk, it felt comfortable with him. This wasn't like how it was when it was me and Dad, and I did miss eating with someone else. After I graduated college, Dad would come home late after eating out so there were few times when I had to cook for more than one person. This was even better, because I didn't have to cook it.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Go ahead. You can ask me anything, Zoe."

"Do you remember anything about your dad?"

He looked surprised that I would ask, but then he smiled, as if he was happy that I wanted to know more about him. It made me feel a little embarrassed. We met nearly two months ago, and I knew all his game stats since he started in the pro league and the rumors about him, because I researched him before I scouted him for the Southern Eagles. Other than knowing he only had a mother, and only because our parents told us separately when they announced they were dating. When I thought about it, I really didn't know much about him.

"To be honest, I don't remember much," he started, expression turning thoughtful. "I barely even remember his name now, and Mom didn't keep any of his pictures, because she knew when he left that he wouldn't be returning. Of course, as a kid, I didn't really understand that. I was six, I think? I waited, and waited, until I just stopped thinking about it."

"That must have been horrible."

He shrugged. "It's not something I think much about. As far as I know, he could be dead now, so there's no reason to think about him. Mom says I look a lot like him when she last saw him, though."

He was six when his father left him, and he was twenty-eight now. He hadn't seen his dad in twenty two years, so it wasn't impossible that he could have died in all that time. I was awkward with my own dad, but I couldn't imagine him not being there.

"I'm sorry."

"It's nothing for you to be sorry for. Anyway, I'm glad. You really enjoyed the food," he teased.

"Hmm?"

He gestured at my plate, looking amused. I'd been eating while we talked, and I didn't even realize my plate was empty until right then.

"You don't have to lick the plate or anything. You can have the rest. And if you'd like, I can cook for you more often."

That made me smile. He'd only had one helping, but since he was offering, I wasn't going to be polite. I filled my plate with what was left, leaving him one stuffed potato. I felt a little guilty, but I really was hungry, I'd barely eaten anything the whole day, the one hot dog and ice cream I'd eaten around lunch being my only meal of the day.

"Thanks for the offer." Since Mom, no one had ever cooked for me. Dad had tried once when I was sick, but he'd nearly burned down the kitchen instead, and he'd never tried again. "I would like that, actually. And, now that you've offered, you might as well make lunch and dinner for me tomorrow. And the day after that."

His eyebrows jumped up. "Is that really going to be okay? If your dad ever found me here, he'd be mad, wouldn't he?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you were actually worried about that, you wouldn't keep coming here even knowing the danger. You can't keep jumping out of my window, that's why I don't like you coming here. But, this one time, it's okay."

"Oh?"

I hummed. "I got a call from him while you were busy in the kitchen saying he'll be out for the whole weekend. I don't have anything to do so I was just thinking of hanging around at home. Would you like to stay over for the weekend and keep me company?"

The moment I asked, I paused and wondered if I'd f****d up. We slept over at each other's places, though it was more like I'd slept over at his apartment or we found a hotel and spent the night together, but usually only if it was too late to be outside. We'd go our separate ways the next morning, and here I was just casually inviting him to spend a weekend. He might not like it.

"If you're busy, you don't have to," I said quickly. "I just thought it would be nice to have someone spend the time with, and you're here."

"So you're only asking because I'm here?" he asked, amused. "If I hadn't come here, you wouldn't have thought to call me over?"

"That's not what I meant," I grumbled. Though, I might have thought about it, honestly. Dad asked me where I was on the nights I didn't come home and I'd give him an excuse. I'd say that I was staying over at a friend's, so I tried not to sleep away from home often. "If you're going to be busy over the weekend, though, it's not like I can't stay by myself."

Howard grinned. "What are you talking about? Of course, I'm not busy. I don't even have a job, currently, what could I possibly have to do over the weekend."

"Oh," I breathed out. He usually didn't seem all that bothered about his current state, so I didn't really think about it, but a football player without a team was technically unemployed. "Then, what about friends? I know you've been away from town for a while, you have to have had friends before you left, right? You must have gone to high school around here..."

"Well, I did go to high school here, but how long ago was that? Ten whole years. I didn't keep in touch with any of the people I'd left behind here, and when I got kicked out of my team and came back here, none of the friends I'd made would talk to me. I don't think there's much point in talking to them, either, so technically, I don't have friends. The only person I talk to is my agent."

"Your agent?"

He nodded. "You met him, when I went to the office that one time to negotiate my contract? The negotiating didn't really last long, though, your Dad kicked me out."

"Oh."

I sort of did remember someone like that. I'd only ever seen him the one time, though.

"Anyway, I don't have anything to do, so yeah, I'd like to stay for the weekend. Thanks for asking."

I was still a bit surprised that he'd agreed so readily. I guess it meant he wanted to spend more time with me when we weren't just having s*x? I didn't know if I should be happy about it or not, but I frowned, because his expression when he said it looked strange.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. "If you really don't want to, it's not like I'm going to force you. Even if you don't have plans, you might have wanted to spend time at home alone?"

He shook his head. "Nothing like that. If I didn't want to spend time with you, I wouldn't have even come here today. It's fine, really."

I bit my lip so I wouldn't ask for more, but he didn't say that while looking at me. His head was ducked down as he slowly finished the food on his plate, and whether he noticed it or not, even with a smile on his face, his brow was furrowed, as if he was worried about something.

Was he not going to tell me? I hesitated to ask, because I didn't know if we were close enough to pry into each other's business. I only asked about his dad because he brought it up first. If this was something personal, he didn't want to tell me, I couldn't force him to do so against his will. I didn't want to, but I let it go as we finished dinner in silence.

"You cooked and you barely ate anything," I complained afterwards, the guilt returning once I'd cleared my second serving.

"Unlike you, I actually had lunch, and I ate before I came here, so I wasn't all that hungry, anyway. Let me just wash the dishes and I'll go run that bath for you."

I went to stand as he took the dishes to the sink. "At least let me do the dishes! You're making me feel a guilty. I'm not so lazy, or so tired, that I can't do this much."

"I know, but you don't have to," Howard said with a chuckle. "I want to do something nice for you every once in a while, and it's not much. Go sit down and wait."

I pouted as he used up all the space by the sink, nudging me away when I tried to get close to help. "You're surprisingly bossy, Howard."

He sent a smirk at me. "After being with me for more than a month now, shouldn't you know that already, Zoe?"

My face flushed at the heated words. Yes, he was definitely bossy when it came to the bedroom. I'd come to realize it quickly after the first few times we had s*x, and I was even more surprised when I didn't really mind it. I'd had a few relationships while I was in college, and I wasn't a virgin when I met Howard, but s*x with him was unlike anything I'd felt before. Maybe that was why I was so addicted to it.

Crap. Now I'm turned on.

Even though I'd just been surprised that he wanted to spend time with me without having s*x, I had to admit part of it was at least my fault. I gave in every time he seduced me because I wanted it, too.

I left him to his work while I went to sit on the couch, turning my thoughts to something else, like his strange expression from earlier. Actually, when I thought about it, him coming to my place at all was strange. He'd only been by three times, but when I told him he couldn't keep coming over in case Dad found him here, he'd agreed with me.

So why did he come here when Dad could have easily been the one to come home and see him at the front door?

Dad didn't know how close we were, but he hated Howard and he'd already warned me off from spending too much time around him, getting caught at our house would just make things more complicated for him if he really planned to sign on with the Eagles. Come to think of it, there was no way he'd know what I was doing today, and I didn't think of it when I first saw him, but how long had he been waiting before I got back? I found him crouching beside the door and I didn't question anything because I was in a bad mood at the time.

For all I knew, he could have been waiting a while.

Why would he risk coming here? Was something wrong? I was almost positive he was definitely keeping something from me, but I didn't know what it could be. What did he want when he came here?

I was distracted by my thoughts, so Howard surprised me when he came in and pressed a kiss to my cheek from behind.

"I've been calling you. What's got you so preoccupied?" He asked curiously, but didn't give me a chance to reply. "I drew the bath already, so you can come in and soak."

He caught my hand and tugged until I stood, then pulled me around the couch and up the stairs to the bathroom. I must have been out of it for longer than I'd thought if he'd had time to get all this done. The bathroom was already steaming, the tub three quarters full. I touched my hand inside, and the water was hot, but just the right, relaxing kind of hot.

"Thanks," I said absently.

I noticed Howard had his sleeves folded back, and the front of his shirt and his jeans seemed to be wet.

"You splashed some on yourself." I touched the wet spots on his shirt. "Come to think of it, I don't really have a change of clothes for you, and you can't wear Dad's. Maybe you really shouldn't stay over..."

My voice drifted off, because he was showing that strange expression again, a little worried, with an edge of desperation. He hid it away quickly, but I noticed.

"I'm not going anywhere. And since I'll be staying the whole weekend," he said, voice husky, taking a step closer. "I won't need clothes the whole time."

Before I could think of anything to say to that, he kissed me, and I decided it wasn't worth breaking off the kiss to speak. Howard surprised me, though. It wasn't a simple kiss. His lips pressed hard against mine, and he nipped and licked at my lips, even as I parted them for him, and he thrust his tongue in and out of my mouth, then sucked my tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was hot and desperate, and I let out a moan. Howard's arms wrapped tight around my waist, but just as well, because I didn't think my legs could hold me up steadily. I grabbed onto his arms, kissing back as best as I could, but he left me overwhelmed. When he broke the kiss, my mind was spinning. I panted, feeling the warmth between my thighs grow unbearable.

"Howard?"

I said his name, though it came out sounding like a moan. I would have been embarrassed if my body wasn't so hot. I wasn't some hormonal teenager, but around Howard, I couldn't help feeling like one. The whole issue with him keeping something important from me was still valid, but I completely forgot it in place of other, more important things.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, nipping my ear lobe and making me tremble.

One of his hands tugged on my top, untucking it from my skirt, then slid up my side. I groaned and attacked his clothes. We stripped each other down, our kisses growing more and more heated. With our naked bodies pressed together, I could feel his hard c**k pressed against me, and I rocked my hips into him, making him growl.

"The tub," he muttered, pulling away from the kiss for a few seconds. "The water will get cold. Should we get in the tub?"

I nodded absently. He'd dragged me over to the tub before I realized what was happening, and I was pulled out of the haze of lust by the feel of hot water on my skin. It burned for a second, and then it just felt good. The tub was pretty big, so it would fit the both of us getting inside. Howard pulled me in with him, sitting down and having me straddle his lap. I gasped, feeling his c**k nudge at my clit in this position, and I rolled my hips.

He growled. "If you keep moving like that, I won't be able to last."

"I've never done this in the bath before," I admitted.

He kissed me, letting out a hum. "I've f****d you in my shower a few times, though."

"You know that's not what I mean. This is going to get messy."

He bit down on my lip, hard enough for me to feel the sting, then pulled back and smirked. "Be as messy as you want, Zoe. I'll clean up afterwards."

I felt his hands on my hips, then circling around to grab my ass cheeks as he pressed me closer to his body. He shifted beneath me, angling his hips. The head of his c**k nudged at my entrance, and I slid down, taking him inside me. Howard leaned back, keeping his hold on me. I moved, rising up then sliding back down, taking him into me over and over. Howard guided my thrusts, but neither of us was in a hurry. I ground my hips against his, moaning as I pressed my forehead to his.

Howard kissed my neck, his lips moving down to my chest. I arched my back, watching him through half lidded eyes as his lips wrapped around one of my n*****s and sucked. A litany of moans and pleasureds sighs fell from my mouth, along with the sloshing of water the sound bounced off the tiles, echoing in the room. I held onto the side of the bath as I moved my hips.

"You look beautiful like this, Zoe," Howard murmured, placing a kiss between my breasts.

Smiling, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rolled my hips against his. His own arm held me by the waist, and I gasped when he rocked his hips up to meet mine. He picked up the pace, and I couldn't help but follow. I could feel the pleasure coiling low in my abdomen. Howard's hands tightened on my hips as he f****d me harder and faster, the water growing turbulent around us, and I cried out as my walls convulsed around his c**k. I came, body shuddering in his arms, and Howard grunted into my neck as he hit climax right behind me, filling me up with his come.

Afterwards, I slumped against him, head rested on his shoulder as I caught my breath. I saw the water that had poured onto the floor, and chuckled, but quickly cut it off in a groan when I felt his c**k rubbing against my insides.

"You better remember to clean this bathroom."

He chuckled, holding me tight against his chest. "Don't worry, I won't forget."