by Meghan Quinn
Chapter Three
GUNNER
“So, this is your hotel room, huh?” Lindsay says, nodding, while looking around. “Identical to mine.”
I walk behind her, place my hands on her hips and bring my mouth close to her ear. “They usually are identical in resorts like this.”
She shivers under my touch and I try to tamp down the excitement racing through me at the mere sight of her.
For some reason, I didn’t think I would see her this weekend. She’s kind of elusive. Pops in and out of my life when I’m least expecting it—besides the time I saw her at Knox’s wedding, I was prepared for that interaction—and she always leaves me craving more.
It didn’t take much convincing to get her up here.
A drag of my finger down her arm.
A joke accompanied by a wink.
A quick reminiscent moment.
And a lot of pleading with my eyes.
God, I want her.
So fucking bad.
In college, I had no idea how good I’d had it when I was with her. I had no fucking clue the kind of high she gave me, and when I went off to play baseball, I realized that with every other girl I took home, I was chasing the high that only Lindsay can give me.
And then that one fateful day I ran into her right after she’d finished her master’s. Fuck, I don’t think I’d ever had that much sex in a twenty-four-hour period, and before I could grab her number, she was gone. I tried asking Knox for it, but at the time, he wasn’t talking to Emory—they had an eight-year falling out—so I was shit out of luck.
Until Knox’s wedding.
Hell, Lindsay in a silk, rose pink dress with a slit that went all the way to her hip, her blonde hair curled and draped over her slender shoulders. I was so fucking gone.
I needed her.
And the next morning, when I asked to see her again, she blew me off. Figured she was done with me.
Until I saw the look in her eyes down by the bar today.
She’s so not done with me, and I’m fucking determined to make sure she doesn’t slip through my fingers again.
“For the record, I’m up here to see if your room has a view. That’s it.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, running the tip of my nose along her neck, taking in her sweet scent.
Her head tilts to the side and I feel her relax under my grip. “You have the curtains shut.”
“Then open them,” I say, bringing my teeth to her earlobe.
When I lightly nibble on the soft skin, she springs out of my hands and powerwalks to the windows where she throws the curtains open. “It’s . . . uh . . . it’s dark.”
Walking up behind her again, I say, “Then maybe you should stay until the morning, when it’s light out, so you can examine the view better.”
I spin her around and gently push her up against the window. She sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes widen when I close in on her.
Tilting her chin up, my mouth inches from hers, I say, “Stay the night.”
She swallows. “Like a slumber party?”
I chuckle. God, she’s fucking cute. “Naked slumber party.”
“Naked, huh?” Her breath catches in her throat. “I, uh, I don’t have my toothbrush with me.”
“Why are you looking for excuses?” I push my hand up her side, along her ribs and settle it right below her breasts. She shifts under me, her breath hurried now, her lips barely parting.
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“It’s been a phenomenal idea every other time we’ve done it.”
“Well, yes, but I swore the last time we had sex would be the last time, so . . . you know, keeping promises with myself and everything.”
“That’s a bullshit promise and you know it, or else you wouldn’t have come up here.”
“Momentary lapse of judgement.”
I study her, my eyes flitting back and forth between hers. She wants this, I know she does, she just needs to be nudged past the odd shield she’s wearing.
Taking a step back, I nod, knowing it’s a risky move, but wanting to see how reluctant she truly is.
“Well,” I start to unbutton my shirt and I watch as her eyes immediately glue to my chest. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re breaking a promise to yourself.” I finish with the last button and shrug the shirt off. I watch her visibly sigh as she takes in my bare chest.
“What uh . . . what are you doing?” she asks, motioning to my body.
“Taking a shower. I’m hard as a fucking rock, Lindsay. Need the relief.”
Her eyes fall to my crotch and then quickly retreat back to my gaze. “You’re . . . hard?” she gulps.
That innocent look, the way her chest seems to heave with every passing second, I can feel my cock grow painfully harder. Yeah, I’m going to need relief, and soon.
“Yeah, Linds. That’s what you do to me. You should know this by now.” I give her another playful wink and then turn my back and head to the bathroom where I leave the door completely open. In order for her to leave, she’s going to have to pass the bathroom.
Hopeful, I remove my jeans and just as I slip my thumbs into the waistband of my briefs, I catch her from the corner of my eye. I glance to the side and catch her standing in the hallway, indecisive.
Please Jesus, let this work.
I push my briefs down and turn toward her, aiming for the lever for the shower. My cock juts out against my stomach, painfully aware of how close Lindsay is.
When I look to the side and catch her blatantly staring at me, I keep my hand on the shower lever, not turning it on just yet, but instead letting her get an eyeful.
“Are you leaving, Linds?”
She licks her lips.
Her hands curl at her sides.
Indecision weighs heavily in her eyes.
She needs one more little push.
I step away from the shower and close the distance between us until I can feel the heat pouring off her in waves.
Skin flushed, her tongue darts out and wets her plump lips, lips I’ve done very naughty things with in the past.
“Are you leaving?” I ask her again, lifting my hand to her chin and cupping it.
Her eyes dart between mine.
Her breath catches.
And she takes a step closer just as her hand reaches out and connects with my length.
Jaw clenched, I try to hide the internal response that wants to escape from that little touch. I wet my lips, tamp down my groan, and take hold of her lips with my own as her hand smooths up and down my length.
“Say it, Linds. Say you want me.”
“You know I want you,” she answers with ease, her thumb stroking over my tip. “That’s never been the problem.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
Her lashes lift and she looks me square in the eye when she says, “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Taking what you want? To hell with that,” I say, pushing her up against the wall and gripping her jaw. I lower my mouth, centimeters away. “Tell me no, right here, right now. Tell me right now and I’ll leave you alone this weekend.”
She swallows, her hand stills on my cock.
And she’s silent.
I count to five.
Giving her enough time to answer.
Four . . . five . . .
Nothing.
Which is my cue.
I run my hands down her body and grip the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head to reveal a front-clasp black bra. Her tits spill over the top as her chest falls up and down.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
I undo her bra and let her tits pour out as her bra tumbles to the ground. Bending at the knees, I take one of her heavy breasts into my hand and suck on her hardened nipple. Her head falls back against the wall and her fingers thread through my hair.
One thing I love about Lindsay is how she frees her mind when she’s with me and just feels. She gets lost in the moment and I can tell that’s exactly
what’s happening as her fingers drag through my hair, urging me to do more.
I pull away and stand tall, gripping her chin again, and then I bring her mouth to mine and press a soft kiss across her lips. “Bed. Naked. Now.”
Her lips roll as her hands go to her jeans. I step away and watch her peel them from her body, along with her matching black thong. When she pushes her clothes to the side and turns away, giving me the perfect moment to take in her backside, my stomach twists with the knowledge that I get to have this alluring woman one more time.
It better not be the last time.
She gets to the bed and looks over her shoulder, her hair floating over her shoulders. “How do you want me?”
Trying not to swallow my tongue, I say, “On your back.”
Complying, she lays down on her back and waits for me. Slowly, I walk around the bed, perusing her body, reminding myself of every curve and every erogenous zone that brings her to a fast and sexy climax.
“Always so fucking ready for me,” I say, dragging my finger down her leg, which voluntarily parts from the other. “When was the last time someone made you come?”
She swallows hard, her eyes shutting for a brief moment. “You. You were the last man I’ve been with.”
And holy fuck, that does something to my pride.
Puffs it.
Makes me feel like the beautiful woman lying on the bed belongs to me.
That she’s mine.
“Do you think about that night?” I ask, kneeling at the base of the bed and moving my body between her legs. “Do you think about how I took you up against the hotel window?”
Her top teeth roll over her bottom lip as she nods, anticipating my touch.
“Good, because I think about it all the goddamn time.” I slip my hands under her legs and push them up toward her chest, exposing her beautiful cunt. “Hold them,” I demand.
One thing I also love about Lindsay, she listens. She takes my commands without blinking and I know it’s because she loves it. She always has. From the very first night I came inside her, she’s always listened to me in the bedroom.
Outside of the bedroom . . . that’s a different story.
“You’re already so fucking wet.” I glide my finger down her center, gathering her arousal on the tip before I bring it to my mouth. Her eyes drift shut when I suck on the taste of her. “Fucking perfect,” I mutter. Shifting so I’m fully facing her bottom half, I ask, “Are you with me the whole night?”
“Do you . . . want me the whole night?”
“I want you the whole goddamn weekend.” And then more.
So much fucking more.
Having her here, waiting for me, hell, it’s a stark reminder of how shitty I’ve handled things with her. That changes now.
I smooth my hand down her inner thigh and then, with one finger, glide inside her. She sucks in a harsh breath and then follows it with a moan as I curve my finger up.
“God . . . I’ve missed you,” she says, her body relaxing into the mattress, her pelvis still as I push in and out of her.
I’ve missed her.
Desperately.
I never realize how desperately until she’s right in front of me and then it feels like I can’t fucking breathe unless she looks at me with those soulful eyes.
Moving my thumb over her clit, I draw circles, applying just enough pressure to feel her pussy clench tightly around my finger.
“Yes,” she whispers, her neck straining, her legs held tight in her hands. “Yes, Gunner.”
I apply a little more pressure and her mouth falls open.
“I want two fingers,” I say, slipping another inside of her, and it’s fucking tight. “Relax, darlin’. Let me in.”
She breathes out a heavy breath and I take that moment to rub her clit some more, which visibly sends her melting into the mattress, giving me more access. I curve both fingers up and work her, playing with the way her body twists, turns, begs for more. When she’s on the edge, ready to fall over, I pull away, making her eyes fly open and a delicious protest to fall past her lips.
“Gunner.”
“I need to be inside of you when you come,” I say, positioning my cock at her entrance. “I want you bare. You still on birth control?”
She nods.
“Good, I need to feel all of you.” On a deep breath, I slide inside her, her arousal making it so goddamn easy.
My cock is sheathed by warmth, the angle so exquisite that I bottom out and hold still. I suck in a sharp breath, feeling the strain in my neck, in every muscle of my body, I’m trying to take this slow, but it feels next to impossible when it’s this good, when this feeling is so goddamn addicting.
“Fuck,” I breathe harshly as I slowly pull out and then push back in.
“More,” she says, keeping a hold on her legs. “More Gunner. I’m so close.”
“No coming.” I stop my hips. “Not until I’m fucking . . . ready,” I say as a twitch of pleasure shoots up my back.
Fuck, I might be ready.
Clutching her hips, my thumbs pressing into her skin, I thrust harder, and my balls to tighten with every single pass of my cock into her deep warmth.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, clenching my jaw. “It’s never this good. Only with you, Lindsay. Only with fucking you.”
I pound in harder. She writhes beneath me, her nipples hard as stone, her tits bouncing with every thrust. It’s too goddamn much.
“You there?”
“Yes, God, yes.” She reaches up, takes my head and brings it down to her mouth, and her lips press against mine, her tongue diving in, and that’s it’s.
I’m fucking gone.
My hips fly.
My legs tingle.
My balls start to tighten.
“Oh my GOD!” Lindsay screams. “Fuck, Gunner. I’m coming.”
Her pussy clenches around my cock.
My length swells and holy . . . shit . . .
Vision blurred, a burst of euphoria shoots through my groin and before I can stop myself, I’m coming so goddamn hard that I lose sight of everything I’m doing.
All I can do is feel.
It isn’t until I collapse on top of Lindsay and feel her hand rubbing up and down my back that I realize where I am and what I just did.
Jesus Christ.
Lifting up, I look into her sated and pleased eyes, cup her cheek, and mold our mouths together, kissing her like she fucking deserves.
She grants me with a satisfied moan before I pull away and rub my thumb over her cheek. Speaking the truth, I say, “I’ve missed you, Linds.”
“You missed good sex.” She laughs, and I shake my head.
“Nah, I’ve missed you.”
Her eyes widen and she is about to answer, when her phone rings. As if I weigh nothing, she pushes me to the side and goes to her pants to pull out her phone. One check of the screen and she says, “I have to take this.”
She walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.
I sigh and roll so my back is pressed against the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.
Fuck.
I rub my hand over my forehead, wondering how the hell I can erase that scared look from her face and get her to realize how great we are together. Throughout the years, we’ve gotten to know each other. It hasn’t always been about sex. Between every orgasm, we’ve spent time talking, and just from those talks, I know she’s someone I want to get to know so much better.
Not to mention, she’s so goddamn perfect. Sweet, sexy, a total bombshell in bed, so caring with the kids she teaches, so funny . . .
Why the fuck have I taken so long to realize this?
Maybe because I’ve been a punk-ass bitch for the better part of the time I’ve known her.
That, and I’m ready to fucking settle down. Baseball is over. I’m a teacher, a coach, it’s time to start a family.
Lifting myself off the bed, I walk to where her discarded clothes are to pick them up for her and just as I appro
ach the bathroom, I nearly trip over my own damn feet when I hear Lindsay . . .
“Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Love you, baby.”
Baby?
Is she . . .
Is she in a fucking relationship?
And she just had sex with me?
Chapter Four
LINDSAY
I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. After going to the bathroom, I clean up and then stare into the mirror.
My hair is a mess.
There is a tint of beard burn across my chest and face.
I have a dazed look in my eyes.
And I know the girl in the reflection has been thoroughly fucked, the only way Gunner Klein knows how to fuck her.
And of course, Dylan just happens to call after I finish. I don’t think my heart has ever raced so much and I don’t know why, because it’s not like Gunner knows.
Off to the side of the bathroom counter is one of Gunner’s shirts, folded neatly. I throw it over my head, feeling all kinds of self-conscious right now. I know damn well I shouldn’t have had sex with Gunner, especially given what I need to tell him, but I couldn’t resist. Not when he looked at me with those pleading eyes, desperation laced in his pupils.
I wouldn’t have been able to walk away even if I truly wanted to.
One more deep breath, one more glance in the mirror . . .
I open the bathroom door only to come face to face with an angry Gunner. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts, his arms are crossed over his impressive chest, and there is a heavy furrow in his brow that I’ve never seen before, not even when he would give up a hit on the mound in his pro ball days.
Something happened.
“Gunner, what’s—”
“Are you in a relationship?”
“What?” I ask, completely confused. Where would he get that from?
“Because you fucking told me I was the last man inside of you.”
“You . . . you were,” I say, feeling my voice start to waiver.
“Then why the fuck are you hiding away in the bathroom, calling someone ‘baby’?”
“You heard that?”
“Yeah, I fucking heard it, Lindsay,” he says, his southern accent growing stronger with his anger. “What the fuck?”