Perfect Form (Texas Tornados Book 1)

by Britney Bell

  19

  Tyler

  I could not hold back anymore, nor did I want to. When she walked into my arms that was it. Now, we lay here naked, lounging in the comfort of each other.

  We ordered dinner, and it will be here soon, but I don’t want to get out of bed. This girl sharing my bed and lying in my arms just feels right. Let’s see how many times I can make her cum, before dinner gets here.

  Jordan’s back is snug to my chest, and our legs and arms are intertwined. Thinking about this little game I have going on in my head, has me suddenly hard as a rock, and delighted to be poking her in the back. She scoots her ass back just slightly to tease and rub against me. Oh, she wants to play.

  With my hand, I reach down and line my cock between her closed legs, to slide it through her wet folds to moisten it, and place it right against her ass hole. Leaving the pressure there to stimulate the area that my cock is dreaming of being in, I move my hand to cup and massage her breast. Her nipples are so responsive to my touch, and are begging me to pinch them again. However, my competitive mind is set on how many touchdowns I can score in this limited window.

  Dragging my hand down her torso to her core and nudging it between her thighs, I flatten my palm on her clit, as I enter her with one finger and then two. I move them inside her in a come hither motion, as I continue the flat pressure on her bundle of nerves.

  She is so wet, her body is writhing against my chest, and her moans are getting increasingly louder. She’s just about to cross the goal line and score to a climax with my name on it.

  “Cum for me, Jordan. Let me feel you milk my fingers,” I encourage, and she erupts instantly. “Touchdown,” I whisper in her ear, and she tilts her head to me with a satisfied smile and a little chuckle.

  With a kiss, I role her on to her back, and align myself on top of her, and between her legs. Fuck, she is beautiful. Striving for another touchdown, I start by worshiping her breast. Sucking, and rubbing each one with a gentle touch, increasing slowly using a little more strength. I noticed that my girl likes it rougher, and fuck, that turns me on, too. With a little nip on each nipple, I work my way down the field of her body to the red zone, kissing and licking as I go.

  Her hands are encouraging me by rubbing her fingers through my hair. Right as I hit just below her nub, her fingers become still, and she adds pressure to my head to hold me there. My God, she tastes so sweet, and it’s addicting. Right here, this is the spot. Her touchdown is mine. With each long slow controlled lick from her nub to her ass hole, her breathing hitches, and her pulse increases. She is on the edge. On a swipe over her clit and diving into her with my tongue, she arches off the bed, seeking more, but I flatten her back down to the mattress and hold her there. With my other hand, I slide a finger in and move it in the motion that I have memorized to make her cum. In exquisite form, she does, and my tongue is there to lap it all up.

  As I move up her body, I wipe my face on my forearm, and guide her to lay her cheek on my chest. Stroking her hair, I whisper, “That’s 2 touchdowns.”

  “Hmmm,” is her only response.

  I give her a moment’s reprieve, before I’m on the prowl of her body again, and my dick is so fucking hard it hurts. It needs to be inside her. I reach over my head to the side table and grab a condom, and cover myself with quick form, while her body is still nestled in the crook of my arm.

  I move her to sit on top of me, taking in every inch of my girth. Her eyes widen at the size, and she leans into me, laying on my chest. We lay there for a moment in silence, enjoying the feeling of being connected. But, I have a goal to reach, and I start moving my hips up and down, rocketing in and out of her.

  Her moans quickly turn to pleas of needing more, and I gladly accept. As I grip each ass cheek and hold her down to me, I piston in and out. She let’s go. I feel the gush of wetness coat my covered shaft. The doorbell rings as Jordan is yelling my name hoarsely.

  It shoots me off, and I yell, “Fuck!”

  Success! Three touchdowns equals three orgasms within the 45 minutes it took for our food to get here. Satisfied with the result of my little mental game, but my cock still wants more. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of this sexy as hell woman.

  I begrudgingly roll her off of me, give her a peck on the lips and get up to answer the door. She giggles and taps me on the ass, as I jump out of bed and rip the condom off, throwing it in the waste basket next to my bed, and bend over to slip my sweatpants on.

  “Hurry up I’m starving.”

  “Oh really, did you work up an appetite?” I ask with another quick kiss on her lips and run out of the room and down the stairs, as the doorbell rings a second time.

  I grab my wallet from the counter and give the delivery guy a tip, but grab another condom out of it before setting the wallet back down.

  This is not over. I take the food to the kitchen where Jordan already has plates and glasses of water out, ready for us to sit at the bar and eat. Seeing her comfortable and knowing her way around my house takes my breath away. She fits here in my space. This can truly become her space, as well.

  Setting it down, I grab Jordan and sit her up on the edge of the counter, as she squeals in surprise. I’m glad she only has my t-shirt on, easy access. I quickly lose my pants, sheath myself, and enter her, all in a matter of less than a minute. Fuck, this is right where I belong. Grabbing her ass to hold her close to me, and with only five pumps, her name is a loud moan, as I fill the latex.

  I relax my head on her shoulder, as I place her farther onto the counter. Taking that moment to just breathe her in and catch my breath.

  “Thank you, dinner is served.”

  Dinner was delicious and the conversation flows like we’ve been friends for years. She brings up the fact that the gala was weird, and that she felt uncomfortable. I knew the media would bother her. Dammit!

  Before we know it, it is 10pm, and we are both getting sleepy.

  Jordan grabs her shoes and puts them on. “I’ve got to go, thank you for dinner and a wonderful evening,” she says as she stands. I follow her to the door.

  “Will you stay the night, Jordan?” I ask with hopeful excitement in my voice.

  “Oh, I would love too, Tyler, but I have a full day of work tomorrow. I have my regulars in the morning and tomorrow evening I have a new client.”

  Tomorrow is Tuesday, that was the day Drew has his new massage therapist going to his house. I don’t want her hands all over his body.

  “That’s okay, I understand...” I say leaving it as if there is more to say, but drop it. “So, a new client, huh. That’s good for business.” My words are a little harsher than I meant them to be, and Jordan looks at me with a raised eyebrow, questioning my tone.

  “Yes, awesome for business. I only have a couple of open slots, before I am fully booked for five days a week.”

  “That’s great. Have a good night, Jordan.” Kissing her on the forehead, as I all but push her out of the door. I feel betrayed, hurt, and scared for her, which I know is crazy, but thinking about Drew antagonizing her has me burning with fire. I have nothing else to say.

  “Good night, Tyler,” she says with question in her voice.

  I’m pissed that she left tonight, I am pissed that her hands will be all over Drew tomorrow night, and I’m pissed that the fucking paparazzi make Jordan feel uncomfortable to be with me out in public.

  Not sure where this rage and possessiveness is coming from, and that’s another thing that pisses me off.

  Dammit, there is nothing I can do about any of it. She’s not mine to ask more questions about her day tomorrow, nor would I ever tell her how to run her business.

  If I actually wanted to have a relationship with Jordan, than I needed to man up and have that discussion with her. Is that what I want, I really hate it when she’s not here, and it gives me a sense of belonging and fulfillment when she is here.

  I wake up early the next day and groan, one bad thing about the season being over, I ha
ve nothing to distract me from thinking about this all day. Just after lunch I can’t take the thoughts anymore, and I’m out the door and off to the stadium to workout. Reed is there, and we get some throwing practice in.

  “Hey, Reed, you got dinner plans?” I ask as I throw him a pass about 10 yards down the field.

  “No. Why, you want to take me on a hot date, sugarplum?” he answers with a laugh and tosses the ball back to me.

  “Shut up. No, I’m going to head over to Mickey’s. Do you want to go?”

  “Hell yeah, I love their burgers and onion rings with a cold beer. The scenery there isn’t so bad either,” Reed says with a smirk on his face.

  “Can’t guarantee that she’ll be there tonight, Reed,” I yell down the field as he runs the route to catch the ball I’m throwing at him.

  “Well, I guess we better go see.” He jogs back and tosses me the ball.

  Mickey’s is pretty quiet as usual. Peyton is here tonight, and Reed has already turned into the shy guy that he is definitely not. This only happens around her, and I find it extremely entertaining.

  Just trying to pass the time, to distract me from thinking about what could possibly be happening right now. Jordan’s hands all over Drew’s body, and the potential for him to be taking advantage of her, has me going out of my mind. Drew is generally a nice guy, and would stop if a girl said no, but he could be very persuasive and a little pushy with his flirting.

  The beers are nice and cold, but I think I need something a little stronger. These thoughts are taking over my head, and I want them gone.

  One shot turns into Peyton leaving the bottle, and that turns into Reed putting me in an Uber, and me showing up on Jordan’s front porch at midnight, drunk off my ass.

  20

  Jordan

  Knock, knock.

  Who the hell is at my door this late? I look out the window, and the car is driving away. Maybe it was someone who had the wrong house.

  Knock, knock.

  I screech and jump at the knocking again, and this time I hear a low voice.

  “Jordan, I know you are in there. Can you open up?” Why in the world is Tyler here this late?

  Opening the door, I find him using the doorway to prop himself up. “Tyler, what is going on? Why are you here so late?”

  “I had to see you, and tell you something. I really like you, but I’m having a very difficult time knowing that you could easily get hurt by going to another man’s house by yourself. And my friend being the one to harm you at that. I will kill him!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your new client. I don’t like you going by yourself.”

  “Tyler, you are obviously drunk, and I’m not having a conversation with you when you’re like this. So, do you need me to arrange an Uber to pick you up, or do you want to come in and sleep on the couch?”

  “Come on, Jordan. Did he…”

  I cut him off. “Your choice, Tyler, but I am not discussing this with you tonight.”

  “Alright,” he adds with a pout, and his head hanging down. “I guess I’ll sleep on your couch.” Opening the door wider, I wave my arm to invite him in, and quickly grab a pillow and blanket, and set it on the couch.

  “Here, use these for tonight. If you need the restroom, it is through that door. Goodnight, Tyler,” I make that the final statement, and go to my room.

  What in the world has gotten into him? His behavior makes no sense at all. He was a little short with me while I was leaving last night, and I don’t understand that either.

  I thought last night was great, but it looks like something’s got under Tyler’s skin. This is why I don’t like dealing with relationships. I don’t have time for this. I have a business to run and a livelihood to make. He doesn’t have to worry about that. He could probably quit his job today and still be okay, for the rest of his life. Well, it doesn't work that way for me, and why in the world would he be questioning me about my clients?

  We don’t know each other that well, but he knows that I am nothing but professional with all of my clients, and our feelings were an exception. We talked about that during some of our long talks. He knows that he was my first ever ‘happy ending massage’, and he knows that I would not be performing that on anyone else.

  I don’t know what time my eyes finally closed last night, but the smell of coffee wakes me up. What time is it?

  Looking at the clock, I groan, “Way too early,” as I roll over and tuck back into my covers and pillow, and try to go back to sleep. Not wanting to get up and face the large guy who showed up last night, acting like a crazy man.

  Just as I’m drifting back to sleep, I hear a little tapping on my door. Well, here we go.

  “Come in,” I say with a lack of enthusiasm.

  “Um, good morning. Would you like some coffee?” he ask with a slight worried grin.

  “Yeah, thank you.” Silence, I’m not sure how to start off this conversation.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. I am not sure what got into me last night.”

  “Tyler, what was that really about?” Looking over my coffee mug as I take a sip.

  He scoots a little more onto the bed and looks at me nervously.

  “It was the fact that you have Drew as a client, and I was scared that he would hurt you, or make you do things you were uncomfortable with. I know he won’t actually do anything to hurt you. The alcohol played with my emotions more than anything. It pissed me off that the media makes you feel uncomfortable, Jordan. That is the public me, it always has been and probably will always be. I was never given a choice in the matter. Either, I accepted it and went with it, or I would fight it and tear my family apart.” He looks up and stares into my eyes with concern in his.

  “Wow, I’m not sure where to begin with this,” I respond, and take another sip of coffee, needing to be more awake for this discussion. “I’ll start by saying, my new client is a little 70 year old man whose wife has been a client since I started my mobile business. I have no earthly idea where you got the idea that Drew was my client.”

  “Seriously.” He leans back with a laugh.

  “Yes, seriously, but, Tyler, you need to wrap your head around the fact that this is my business, and I may have other clients who are athletes, or handsome and physically fit like you. This is my job, and this is how I pay my bills. I am the utmost professional. We talked about that. You know that you have been the only exception to that rule, and I fought it with everything I had. As far as the lights and cameras go, Tyler, I don’t think I can be just arm candy on your arm. I’m not of elite social status, and I’ll never be. You need someone that is at that level and can walk side by side with you, rather than be pushed to the back, leaving you to be by yourself.”

  He gently takes the mug out of my hands, sits it down on the nightstand, and takes both hands in his. Staring down at them, he looks me directly in the eyes. “Yes, Jordan, I do understand that, and know that you are always professional. I just need to set the record straight with you on how I feel about you. So you know I am here for you, should anything ever come up that you need me for.”

  My heart is thumping in my chest so hard, I’m sure he can feel my pulse through my hands, and all I can do is continue to stare into his eyes.

  “Jordan, that first day we spent all day together, I really started to like you. Having you in my house makes it feel like home. When you are not there, it is way too quiet and empty. Also, I don’t have a choice about whether the media shows up or not, but I also don’t want anyone else on my arm but you. I don’t give a fuck about social status, so get that out of your head right now.”

  I’m still silent, trying to take in what he’s saying. “What?”

  “Jordan, I like you in my house. I like talking to you on the phone. I like thinking about you while we are apart. I like seeing you, after I have missed you for several days. I like you a lot, and I know that there will be hurdles to work around with me on the road during the season and the paparazz
i, but I really would like to see where this goes,” he says and rolls his hand back and forth between us to suggest me and him together.

  He’s searching my eyes, looking desperately for the answer that he wants to hear.

  “Yes,” is a low whisper out of my mouth, and he now looks at me to clarify. “I like you too, Tyler, and I would love to see where this can go.”

  His hands move from holding my hands, to gently holding my cheeks, as he leans in slowly, for a tender kiss that escalates into us spending the rest of the morning in bed.

  As he holds me tightly to his chest, with my back up against him, he whispers in my ear, “Will you go on a date with me, peaches?”

  “Yes, I would love to, but I have to know something,” I reply bringing his hand up to my lips, to press a light kiss.

  “Oh, and what would that be?” he responses as he kisses my neck.

  “I think it is sweet, but why do you call me peaches?” Dipping his head down to bury it against my back, he shakes with laughter.

  “Because you have the perfect form of a peach shaped ass, and you even smell like peaches, too.”

  Epilogue

  My bedroom looks like the closest exploded onto my bed making a colorful patchwork blanket out of a multitude of fabrics and patterns. I think I’ve tried on just amount every article of clothing that I own, along with a few bags worth of Harper’s clothes.

  “Jordan, he said dress casual, warm, and wear comfortable shoes. I think this outfit with the dark blue off the shoulder sweater, navy skinny jeans and silver deck shoes will be perfect,” Harper reassures me.

  “You think? What if it’s not dressy enough? What if it’s not warm enough? If he would have just told me where we are going and what we are going to be doing, I would know exactly how to dress.”

  Harper turns to me and shakes the hairbrush in my face. “That gives away the surprise, and you know it. Now stop worrying, and let’s fix your hair and makeup. Tyler will be here soon, and we need to get you ready for your fine ass man.”