by Britney Bell
The day flies by with back to back clients, still trying to get caught up from working with Tyler last week. Now, it’s time to put my big girl panties on and face my feelings, by talking them out with Harper, no matter how scary they are.
We meet at the Taco Shack, where we used to always meet during our college days. It’s a cool place, close to school. People can hang out, relax, and forget about their studies, for a little while. Their skinny margaritas are the best, and the liquid courage will help me talk through things with Harper. I arrive a little early to get a drink in before she gets here. She will, for sure, find all of this fascinating. Since I’ve been refusing to have this conversation even with myself, hopefully talking with her will help me sort some things out.
But, really, is there anything to sort out? He’s Tyler Beckett, Texas Tornados’ quarterback, and I am Jordan Shipman, an average traveling massage therapist. The night of the gala proved that. I was just a piece of jewelry on Tyler’s arm. Which was okay for a night, but I’m not sure I can handle that all the time. He travels all over the country, and I haven’t been out of Texas. He makes millions, and I struggle to live paycheck to paycheck. I like making my own way. It’s so satisfying to be able to make a living using my experience and talents, and being able to provide for myself.
As I am sitting at the bar, nursing my liquid courage with a side of lime, a head plops down on my shoulder. I jump, startled from my thoughts.
“Long time no see.” Harper laughs as she takes a step back. “You nearly jumped out of your skin.”
I confirm her comment with a tip of my drink her way.
“Hey, it’s been a long week, Harper.”
“Well, it feels like a hell of a lot longer when you drop off the face of the earth with no return text or calls.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been a little busy with work,” replying as I wave to suggest we get in line to order food, and trying to deflect this talk until we at least sit down.
“I see that you are stalling. We will be having this conversation, but we can order tacos first. Just be prepared to start talking, as soon as your ass hits that chair.”
The line is not nearly long enough. We order quickly and sit close to the bar, in order to keep the margaritas flowing.
“And…” Harper points her finger and rolls her hand to say get on with this.
“Okay, so you do know that I was on a week-long assignment. What you don’t know was with who. I didn’t know either, until he told me.”
“Well, who is he? Why are you procrastinating and leaving me hanging? You have never acted like this with any other clients. Unless… Jordan, what did you do with your client?” she asks with a smartass grin on her face, as her head tilts with a questioning look.
My head falls forward into my hands, and I let out a heavy sigh. “Harper, I don’t know. It all happened so fast. His name is Tyler Beckett…”
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“You know who he is?” I ask also in disbelief that he’s also… him.
“Yes, of course. Who doesn’t know who the super-hot and sexy quarterback of the Texas Tornados is?”
“Me, apparently. Remember, I hardly watch tv, and I don’t follow sports,” I say defensively.
“Anyways, stop deflecting and spill.” She’s staring me down and losing her patience.
“Okay.” Here goes nothing. I give her a play by play of how I got the job, and how Tyler and I connected. “It felt really comfortable. Like two friends enjoying each other’s company. However, our sexual chemistry was off the charts. I mean, Harper, do you know how hot he is?”
“Yes, Jordan, I do. Keep going.”
“A couple of times we bumped into each other, and it was like a magnet. We couldn’t pull away from each other. It was different than being on a first date. It was more like two people getting to know each other, but the attraction was so strong, that we couldn’t get enough.”
She’s now sitting on the edge of her seat, listening to every word, intently. So, I continue on about how we touched and cuddled for the next four days, all day long, every day.
I left out the happy ending massages and the unbelievable great sex, that was a secret that Tyler and I shared, and it was sacred to my heart. However, I did tell her about the gala and how awkward it was.
“When are you going to see him again?” Harper ask, her eyes wide with interest.
“I don’t know, Harper. He is busy with work again, and after the gala, I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting anything to do with me. I am just not that caliber of a person,” I say as I take a large bite of taco to end the conversation.
“What the fuck ever, Jordan! You are fucking amazing, talented, caring, and lovable with a huge heart. Don’t you dare go telling yourself any differently. If he just wants a puppet on his arm to show off, than he’s not man enough for you and doesn’t deserve you anyhow,” she fires off with her green eyes blazing straight at me, to make sure I hear every word she’s saying.
17
Tyler
With memories of Jordan at my house hitting me at the oddest times, I have to shut them down quickly, to keep my mind on track. I haven’t talked to her since Sunday night. I can’t afford the distraction, and with my focus elsewhere, another week goes by in no time. It’s jam packed with practices and film review because Sunday’s playoff game in Florida is going to be really tough. Literally, all of my focus is on the weekend, and it’s as if I am living with my quarterback coach, because we have spent every night this week together, finishing up late in the evenings, and back by 8am each morning, to practice with the team. It’s day in and day out of this until we leave on Friday.
Game day arrives, and my game day routine is implemented. It’s always a little more challenging on away games, but it’s still manageable. Staying on task, a united robot with our one track mind, we load the bus and leave for the stadium. Let’s get this show on the road. Either we win this playoff game and move on to the next, and advancing on to the Super Bowl, or we lose this game and the season’s over.
The first half of the game goes our way, and we are able to stay one touchdown ahead. After halftime, the pendulum seems to shift, and Florida is on top by a touchdown. It looks like it is going to come down to whoever has the ball last. Well, unfortunately it doesn’t fall in our favor, and we lose by a field goal.
As I am sulking in the locker room and dreading having to talk about this with the media, Drew and Reed come over and try to convince me to go out with them. After a while, I give in and agree to go, more to shut them up than because I want to.
VIP Lounge in Miami is for the socialites, and people who like to be stuck up and show off, and of course, this is where Drew and Reed want to go. I’d much rather be in my hotel room, licking my wounds from the loss.
“Well, this is certainly upscale from Mickey’s,” Reed points out, taking in all the shiny, silver surfaces and crystal chandeliers hanging above the tables. There is also a large dance floor in the middle.
“Yeah, but I prefer the low profile of Mickey’s,” I reply, as a couple of girls wander over to our table, almost as soon as we sit down.
“Excuse me, are these seats taken?” one of the girls asks, motioning to the extra two chairs at our table.
“Actually, sorry, they are. We are expecting a couple more people,” I answer, before either of the other guys have a chance to. They are both staring at me, like I have lost my mind. Maybe I have. What single red blooded male would turn down three hot women, for the evening? I just don’t feel like entertaining them, and the only woman I have on my mind is the one who wears scrubs and can work my body like magic with her hands.
“Well, alright. You guys have a good night,” with that, they turn and move on to the next table with a group of three men. Just a quest for the night. Something shifted by having Jordan at my house, this week. I realized I wanted more of that, someone to come home to, after a long day of practice, or spending a couple of days away fro
m being gone on a road trip game.
“Tyler, we haven’t seen much of you lately. What pond have you been dippin’ that sea slug into?” He pauses just long enough for me to give him a ‘shut the fuck up look’. “You been havin’ your in-home massage service playing that little skin flute of yours? It seemed like you had great results, and it was impressive how quickly you recovered. Any magic formula we should know about?” Drew’s questioning and trying to prod for inside information. Not happening. I’m not one to share stories, and I’m certainly not one to share my girl.
With a looked that told him I was not happy about this topic, I replied in a harsh tone, “I haven’t been up to much, just studying nonstop, for today’s game.” Obviously ignoring his questions about where my dick has been lately, which is none of his fucking business. He’s a cool guy, but he can be a giant jackass, sometimes.
“Well, like I said, I was impressed, so I asked around and acquired the services of a little massage therapy of my own. She’ll be coming to my house Tuesday evening, to work on the masterpiece of this body,” he comments with a hand gesture waving from his head and down his body.
All I really can see is red. I immediately imagine Jordan leaning over her massage table, struggling to put the sheet on, and her ass wiggling in the goddamn air, for Drew to admire. What if he grabs that ass, and thinks he can have his way with it?
“Oh. Really?”
“Yeah, Matt was kind enough to help me out with finding someone. He is actually glad that I asked, because they have been way too busy with the season continuing a little longer, due to the playoffs.”
I’ve never had this kind of crazy protective rage I have at this moment, and I don’t understand it. Jordan is a professional business woman, who can have other clients. Yet, the picture of Drew’s hands on her is infuriating. This is unbelievable, surely she’s not going to start working on my teammates and go to his house alone. However, it could be a possibility. It was Coach Briggs who sent her to me, and she came alone. I haven’t talked to her in a week. A lot could have changed, within that time. I have to get out of here and call Jordan.
18
Jordan
“Hey, stranger, so sorry about tonight,” I answer hitting the green button to connect the call.
“Yeah, thanks. It was a tough one.”
Getting comfortable, I curl my legs underneath me on the couch and continue, “How do you feel about being done for the season?”
“Sad that we didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, but ready for the break. Next season will come soon enough,” he says with sadness in his voice.
“What do your off seasons look like? Since this is a job, do you still have to go to the stadium to workout with the team, throughout the week?”
“Na, we have a couple of months off, after that we will start practices again in the spring. Through the off season, I work out on my own to keep in shape, and get together with a few of the receivers for throwing practice, several times a week.”
“That’s cool.” That’s all I say, to let him take the lead on where this conversation is headed. He called me, after not talking to him for a week, to be honest, I’m okay with that because all the cameras and socialite shit really scares me. His family is great, but all the other is not at all. I’m really not sure where he wants to go with it.
“Do you have plans tomorrow, I’d like to see you and hang out?”
I have to take a deep shaky breath, to control my heart rate, before I reply too eagerly. “No, actually it’s my day off.”
“Is your laundry all caught up?” he asks, and I bust out laughing.
“Yes, Tyler, all of my laundry is done for the week,” I reply with a chuckle.
“Great, do you want to come over? We can order take out for dinner.”
“Mickey’s?”
“Of course, and for sure cheese sticks.”
“That sounds fun, what time? Not too early, I just got my routine back to normal, and as you know, it does not involve mornings.” That earns me the sound of laughter, coming from the other side of the phone.
“How about 4pm?”
“That sounds great. See you later. Good night, Tyler.”
“Sweet dreams, peaches.”
Those sweet words send feelings all the way down to my core.
I go to bed right away, excited for tomorrow to come, and happy that I get to see Tyler, after not seeing him for over a week. The late morning comes, and I keep myself busy trying not to think of what this afternoon will bring and how it will go.
Pulling up to Tyler’s house, the gate opens automatically, as if it now recognizes my car. I make it to the front door, and Tyler opens it before I have a chance to ring the doorbell. He’s standing there with a huge smile, a t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and no shoes. Looking super-hot, making me instantly wet. The attraction and the sexual chemistry has not diminished one bit in the time that we’ve been apart. I would even say that it has increased, considerably.
He opens his arms wide, to let me walk into them for a hug. I accept, and his strong arms engulf me in a warm embrace. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.” His words are so quiet that I almost missed them.
I tilt my head up against his chest, as he looks down at my soft blue eyes. “I missed you, too.”
His lips meet mine, and it’s like a hunger that I’ve been starving for and can’t get enough of. The passion in his kiss tells me exactly how much he’s missed me.
Large hands roam my back and land on my ass to pull me closer, but I need more. I wrap one leg around his upper leg, and he uses the placement of his hands to lift me up, to allow me to wrap my legs around his waist. Kissing me fiercely, I break away long enough to say one word, “Bedroom.”
With that invitation he guides us straight upstairs and gently lays me down on the bed, climbing over my body as he does. Anticipating the feel and the weight of his body lying on mine has me shaking with need.
Sitting back, he takes his shirt and pants off. I follow his lead, removing my shirt and pants. He stops me as I start to remove my panties, and I look at him with confusion.
“I want to take those off, Jordan. You are my gift to unwrap.”
“It’s all yours to unwrap.” He groans as he accepts the present, and gently pulls them off. Tyler makes sure to touch me and heat my body up even more as he slowly removes them. Grabbing a condom, he throws my panties on the floor. I spread my legs wide and watch him sheath his large hardness.
“Ready,” he asks one final time, as his finger slips into my heat, making sure I’m prepared to take him. “So wet. So ready. So tight. God, I’ve jerked off so much, thinking about this pussy I’ve missed all week.”
“Tyler, yes. I’m ready. I’ve missed you too,” I confirm. With that, he lowers over my needing body and slowly slides his crown between my folds in one smooth push, and I gasp as he fills me. Staying still for a moment, he lets my body adjust to welcome him.
“You are so tight.” His voice is rough and low against my neck.
“Hmmm,” is all I can manage to get out.
He takes my mouth, to own my kisses, and pumps his hardness in and out of me, until I'm wound to the point of breaking.
“Your walls are squeezing my dick, telling me you want to cum.”
That is exactly where I am, and I’m about to explode. The need for release has me raising my hips to meet each of his thrust in order to connect his shaft with the sweet spot, that I know will send me over the edge. His dick feels so good, but I’m not ready for this to end.
“Let go, I want to give you more.” His whispers on my lips send me over the edge, roaring his name. He pauses his movement, and I can feel myself pulsate and squeeze him. “Awe. Fuck. Jordan.” His words were strangled, almost like he was in pain.
As my breathing starts to regulate, he pulls out a little. The cool air in the room hits my wet center right as he slams back into me.
“Oh.” Moaning breathlessly, I tilt my hips up to welcome the pounding. �
��More,” I plead.
Giving in to the request, he thrusts harder into my pussy, as his hand roams over my breast. With a slight pinch of my nipple, he clamps down and holds the pressure there while he continues to pump in and out of me.
“Fuck! Tyler!” is a scream as I erupt.
He releases the pinch of my nipple as I begin to climax and another rush of release rips through me. Holy fuck!
“That’s it, Jordan,” he encourages. “I could hear my name yelling out of your pretty little mouth all night.”
He kisses me, and I quickly get lost in the play of our tongues.
With a sudden jerk away, he rips his lips from mine, sits up, and rolls me onto my stomach, pulling my hips up placing me on all fours.
“Right there. Let me see that beautiful peach ass,” he says as he smooths his hands over my roundness, rubbing me with his warm hands. Coolness suddenly hits me, with a whoosh of air, right before the sting of a slap to my ass, and I yelp at the same time he fills me with his thickness. “Oh, I can tell you like that, peaches. Your soaking wet pussy is clamping me like a vise.”
I did like that little slap on my ass. A bite to the pleasure, and I’m needing more.
“Again, Tyler. Slap my ass, again.”
Confirming his statement, he grants me what I asked for and spanks me again, as he continues to ram into me. It feels so good. I lean my hips back into him. Silently asking for more, and he brands me again with his hand, shooting ecstasy through my entire body, leaving me shaky with my arms giving out, and I have to lay my face and chest on the bed. One pump, two pumps more, and he yells my name so loudly, using all the air in his lungs, I am sure that it will leave him with a raspy voice.
Feeling his body shake against my back, and his thick cock pulsate in me, I have an overwhelming since of comfort and home.