by Leslie North
The friends laughed, and Michelle watched as Blake returned to his phone immediately. She wondered who it was he was texting, or what could be so important that he’d let it distract him from his birthday dinner. The server returned then with their wine, pouring each person a generous glass.
“So Michelle,” Mila said, grabbing her wrist. “We heard you’re a trainer for the Seagulls!”
“Are you best friends with all the baseball players?” Jackie asked, resting her chin on her palm.
Michelle laughed, launching into an executive summary of her real role in the gym—professional mom and shin wrapper. The ladies were very curious, peppering her with questions until the server returned to take their orders.
And once more, Blake buried himself in his phone, frowning down at the screen as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Michelle’s stomach went into a knot as she looked over the menu. Something was definitely off with him. She just hoped it wasn’t the growing confirmation that her fears were correct, that Blake’s commitment to her had lessened now that he’d gotten her into bed.
“What are you getting?” she asked, leaning forward to snag Blake’s attention. The server had started taking orders at the other end of the table.
“Oh, uh…” he pocketed his phone, looking down at the menu as though he’d only recently realized he was in a restaurant. “I haven’t even looked.”
“I think I want everything.” She turned to Mila. “Any recommendations?”
Mila pointed out the scallop dish that she planned to order, which made Michelle’s decision for her. “Done. But that means you can’t get the scallops too, Blake. You have to get something different.”
He didn’t hear her at first and then jolted when she waited expectantly for an answer. Blake smirked, turning to Grayson. “Okay, then, Grayson. You’re picking my meal for me. Consider it my birthday present. Anything but the scallops.”
“Wow. I got off easy with this one. How about…this?” He jabbed his finger at something on the menu, and Blake nodded.
The server came around to Michelle, took her order, and as he turned to move, his elbow grazed the edge of Michelle’s glass of wine. It toppled, but Michelle caught it just in time before the entire thing emptied out onto the table.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry,” the server said, reaching for a napkin on the table to help sop up the spilled wine.
“It’s totally fine,” Michelle said, waving it off. “Seriously, no worries.”
The server took Blake’s order then, offering one last apology to Michelle before rushing off. As Michelle reached out to take another sip of her slightly-emptier glass, Mila gasped.
“There’s wine on your jean jacket,” she said. Mila tutted. “We should clean it now. I’ll be able to get it out easily.”
“Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom.” Jackie sprang to life, ushering Mila and Michelle to their feet.
“It’s okay, I can—” Michelle started.
“Nope. This is an official girl’s trip to the bathroom,” Mila announced, setting her cloth napkin on the table. “Let’s go.”
Mila and Jackie herded her to the bathroom. She giggled once they were inside the individual bathroom, which was practically bigger than Michelle’s living room.
“Okay. Now that we’re all alone,” Jackie said, grabbing Michelle’s hands, “Can I just say how cute you and Blake look together?”
Michelle laughed, feeling the heat creep back into her cheeks. “Aw, thank you.”
“That’s really what we came here for,” Mila admitted, leading Michelle toward the sink. “Well, that, and to get this stain out.” She pulled at Michelle’s jacket, easing it over her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do that,” Michelle started.
“Nonsense. This allows us to gush in the meantime,” Mila said.
“So where did you two meet?” Jackie asked, her eyes alive with curiosity as she crossed her arms and leaned against the countertop.
“At the stadium, actually. Daniel threw a fastball that clocked Blake in the head,” Michelle said with a laugh.
Jackie gasped, covering her mouth. “I would apologize for Daniel hurting your man, but maybe you two wouldn’t have met otherwise.”
Michelle grinned, watching as Mila tended to the jean jacket with cold running water and gentle, circular movements over top of the stain. Blake had told her that Mila worked with clothes and fashion, and if her sleek, fashion-forward ensemble hadn’t tipped her off, then Mila’s careful attention to the stain would have sealed the deal.
“I’m just so happy Blake has found someone,” Mila said, grinning over at her as she turned the water off.
“Yes, well, we’re happy to have found Blake, too,” Michelle said.
“We?” Mila asked.
“Mollie and I,” Michelle clarified. “Mollie is my daughter.”
Surprise washed over Mila and Jackie’s faces in unison. The truth burned through her—for however much Blake had talked about her to his friends, he hadn’t mentioned her daughter. The center of her world—and hopefully a large part of his, if they’d make it that far. So what did that say about the state of their relationship?
“I had no idea you had a daughter,” Mila gushed. “Grayson and I have a son, Ethan—he’s almost four months old. How old is she? We should organize play dates.”
“Mollie is five,” Michelle said. “And she loves babies.”
“That is too cute,” Jackie said. “Let me know when you schedule this—I want in, too. I’ll bring the dog.”
“I knew Blake would do well with someone loving and supportive in his life,” Mila went on, smoothing out the wet spot on the jean jacket sleeve. “He needs something serious and stable. You two seem perfect for each other.”
Michelle smiled, but it felt strained at the edges. Doubts were flooding her, seeking all the weakened cracks in her new relationship with Blake. Blake needed serious and stable, sure—but was he ready to offer some seriousness and stability in turn? Michelle couldn’t handle a half-hearted commitment—not when Mollie’s happiness was at stake.
“We should get back, or they’re going to accuse us of doing our nails in here,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes. “I love these guys, but they’re predictable.”
Mila snorted. “Even more so when the three of them get together.” To Michelle, she said, “If you haven’t seen all three together much before now, you’ll understand what I mean by the end of dinner.”
Michelle grinned, but it fell quickly. She followed the ladies back out into the restaurant, immediately spotting Blake once more absorbed by his phone. Grayson even punched his shoulder as the three of them took their seats again, but Blake barely stirred.
So this confirmed it. If Blake could be so detached, so emotionally absent, on the doubly big occasion of his birthday and her first meeting of his friends, then that didn’t bode well for the future.
Michelle took a healthy gulp of her wine, vowing not to think about it much more. After all, it would only send her down a dark path, and she wanted to enjoy this dinner as much as possible.
Whether or not Blake even noticed the world around him.
13
By the time Blake and Michelle headed back to her house, he could tell something was seriously amiss.
“Babe, you okay?” He reached out to grab her hand in the dark car. The city lights blurred past them as he drove through the business district.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She sniffed, which meant that she wasn’t fine.
“You seem quiet.” In fact, he didn’t think she’d spoken for the last ten minutes. He’d lost track of time, that’s how lost in his own thoughts he was.
“I am,” she said with a laugh. “In fact, I haven’t said a word. I was waiting for you to notice.”
“Sorry. I’ve been distracted tonight.” He sighed tersely, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” she said dryly. “I’ve noticed.”
He
ran his tongue over his teeth. Shit. He’d really tried to be present and engaged. It was just so hard when the stress of a possible delay with the club opening was hanging over his head every second of the day.
“I really didn’t mean to be a jerk. I’ve just been so hung up on the club issues. I’ve been in constant contact with the contractor, and we’re working basically every second to get things on track again.”
Michelle seemed to soften slightly, but he couldn’t tell if all was well or not in the dark car. Not until he could get her alone, and hopefully undressed. “I wish I could help with that.”
“Well, I’m hiring extra crews to install the new electrical system so we can satisfy this damn permit. You don’t have to do a thing.” He picked up her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. “I’m hiring all the best, and then extra on top of that. I will open on time. I bet you a million bucks.”
She smirked. “I don’t have that kind of money laying around. I can’t join in on the bets like your friends.”
“You wouldn’t want to bet against me on this one anyway,” he said. “That’s how serious I am.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He kissed her knuckles again, easing the SUV onto the freeway. They chatted about other things—how amazing dinner was, how sweet and nice Mila and Jackie were—on the way back to her house. And when he pulled into her driveway, he realized he was more than ready to head inside and up to her bedroom…but he wasn’t sure if she wanted that.
He cut the engine, drinking her in once the interior lights flicked on. She avoided his gaze, reaching for the door handle. His gut turned into a tight knot. Something still seemed off, but he had even less of an idea what it might be now that the previously palpable tension had eased.
“What are you feeling like, babe?” he asked, squeezing her shoulder. “I want to take you inside and have my way with you, but only if you’re up to it.”
She sent him a smile over her shoulder but didn’t respond right away. In the half seconds of deliberation, he worried that she’d shoot him down. And what would that signal between them?
“Come inside,” she finally said, and he let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Relief trickled through him and he pushed open his door, following her inside the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him and she was toeing off her heels, Blake swooped over to her, bringing her against him.
“I’m sorry for being distracted at dinner,” he said, truly meaning it. He felt like he’d ignored her, and that wasn’t cool. But hell if he knew how to execute this precious balance of being with someone and making sure they stayed. Blake was only good at wining, dining, and fucking. He had no tools in his tool belt for holding onto a woman long term. He’d never done this shit before. He’d only ever actively avoided getting here.
So probably recognizing that he was occasionally an unintentional asshole would help.
“I get it,” she said, smoothing her hands along his shoulders. “Don’t worry.”
He swiped his thumb over her cheek, searching her blue gaze for the deeper truth, but she was incredibly difficult to read. He’d have to take her at her word. If she said not to worry, then he wouldn’t. Simple as that.
He dipped down for a kiss, tasting the sweet tang of the dessert wine still on her lips. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to meet hers in the middle. She gripped his hand cupping her cheek, a soft moan escaping her as the kiss deepened.
At the very least she still wanted it. Wanted him. And he’d make sure that that didn’t change.
Blake traced the curves of her body through the dress that he’d been admiring all evening, slowly easing off the jean jacket until it crumpled to the floor.
“Where shall we explore each other tonight?” he asked, pressing his forehead to hers. “Maybe the dining room table this time?”
She laughed. “I was thinking something a little more traditional. Like my bed.”
He grunted, squeezing the apples of her ass cheeks. “Great idea. Let’s go there now.”
She led the way, holding his hand as they sped up the stairs together. Inside her neat, orderly bedroom, outfitted in varying shades of gray and purple, he kissed her as he guided her backwards to her bed, toppling her to bounce softly on the mattress. She grinned up at him as he made quick work of his dinner jacket and the buttons of his shirt.
“Is this birthday dessert, round two?” she teased.
“Round three or four, maybe.” He shucked his shirt, and then got to work on his belt buckle and pants. “I’ve lost count. Too many delicious things that I’ve eaten in celebration. Both human and otherwise.”
She pressed the back of her hand to her nose as she snort-laughed. He fished the three-pack of condoms out of his back pocket before tossing his pants. Once he was down to his underwear, he pushed her dress up to her hips and clambered onto the bed. Eyeing her sexy cleavage in the dress, he said, “What would you say if I said I wanted to fuck you fully clothed, and then again in just your panties, and then again buck naked?”
“I’d say you have a lot of endurance.”
“Oh, I do.” He pressed his lips to her collarbone, lowering himself so that the thick ridge of his cock lined up with her already-damp panties. “When it comes to you, I want it to last as long as fucking possible.”
Her head rolled back as he moved himself against her, enjoying the splay of emotions across her face.
“Mmm.” He thrust against her again, able to feel the heat and dampness of her even with two layers of underwear between them. She was desperate for it—again. And he couldn’t wait to sink into that juicy heaven.
He didn’t know if it was the fact that they’d taken things slow, building up anticipation, or the fact that he’d actually gotten to know her so well beforehand—but he’d never had sex this good before. And that was saying something. Especially as one of the foremost playboys the San Francisco Bay Area had ever seen. Or rather, ex-playboy.
“Ohhh, Blake.” She clutched at his back, rocking her hips against him. Her nipples had turned into two tight points beneath her dress. He pushed the slippery fabric all the way up over her bra. He tugged the black satin cup down, covering that nipple with his mouth. She shivered.
“I wanna bury myself in you so bad,” he whispered. “I don’t think I’ve thought of anything else.”
“Except the club,” she cracked.
He snorted, burying his face in her shoulder. “Except that.”
“Blake.” She propped herself up on her elbows again, forcing him to meet her gaze. “We both have a lot we don’t want to think about for a little bit. So I want you to fuck me so hard that we forget.”
Her words were a challenge he was more than eager to meet. He claimed her mouth with his own, coaxing hot, passionate kisses. But her words began a slow swirl in the back of his mind. A lot we don’t want to think about.
What was she trying to avoid thinking about?
Now wasn’t the time to play therapist. She’d said it herself. She wanted him to fuck the thoughts away. And that, he could do. Even though it felt like she was slipping away from him—no matter how little sense that made—he could at least ease her mind for a little while.
There was plenty of time left to dig in and find out what was bothering her…after their orgasms.
Blake sat back on his heels and pushed his underwear down so that his cock sprang free. He tore open the condom packet with his teeth. Michelle fidgeted between his legs, dragging her nails up and down the tops of his thighs as he rolled the condom down over his cock.
Everything inside him pulsed with urgency, with impatience. But not just because he was about to get laid. Because he wanted more of Michelle. Wanted so much more that it almost didn’t make sense.
He shucked his underwear and then eased himself between her legs, pushing aside the damp scrap of her panties. Her pussy was swollen, glistening. He had half a mind to take a detour and get
lost in there with his lips and tongue, but no. He’d made a promise to her. Besides, his throbbing cock demanded attention. They could start with a bang, and spend the rest of the evening catching up.
Michelle sucked in a sharp breath as his cockhead nudged for entrance, already digging her nails into his biceps. His head spun with every new millimeter of space he claimed inside her. It had been less than a week since they’d last had sex, but it had felt like years.
Because the truth was, he needed this way more often.
Even if the club was eating up all his attention, Michelle and Mollie were constantly on his mind. Not his baseball teams; not his record label. Not even his friends. It was only Michelle and Mollie occupying the real estate of his attention span whenever he let his mind wander.
This revelation sizzled through him as he pushed himself inside of her. God, was he falling for Michelle? Her soft moan sent sparks skating under his skin. The pretty planes of her face held him captive as he sank deeper inside of her. Her pussy stretched like hot silk around him, cementing the realization.
Oh, yeah. He was falling for her.
And hard.
Blake buried his face in the hollow of her neck, drinking in the sweet scent of her. Her breathy gasp seared through him as he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt. He’d always assumed that sex lost its luster when you stayed with one person—but he’d had sex with her more times than he had with any other one woman, and it just got better every time. That was saying something. In fact, it said everything.
Blake nibbled at her earlobe, loving the way she whimpered beneath him. His cock throbbed inside her. He’d promised to fuck away all their thoughts, but right now, he just wanted to relish this.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hard you make me?” he whispered hotly into her ear.
“I have some idea,” she said. She hooked her ankles behind his back, flexing her hips against him. “Maybe I can make it even harder.”
He groaned, finding more depth within her as she rocked her hips against him. “Yep. Congratulations. You just did. Solid steel now.”