by Ami LeCoeur
“You’ve been trying, though?” Even at your age? I wondered what the upper age limit was, but I didn’t say anything.
“Yeah. So far, it’s always been some bullshit reason I didn’t do good enough. Like the last time, I had the flu. Talk about shit luck, right?”
I nodded sympathetically, not understanding his obsession but appreciating that he had a goal that meant something to him.
“That’s my dream, you know? I’ve been dreaming about it for, like, fifteen years. That’s half my life. I can’t give up, no matter what. That’s why I’m training so hard right now, for the next open tryouts. I’ll get there yet.” He laughed, picking up his beer. “But tonight’s a special occasion.”
I raised my beer, toasting him in response.
He motioned to the big screens showing athletes playing basketball and hockey. “That’s where I wanna be. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. It’s where I belong. When I was a kid, the guys who played football were my heroes. I wanna be that person, on a poster in a kid’s room. I want the endorsements and the contracts. You ever see the way those people live? With the cars and women and houses? That’s what I want. It’s where I was meant to be in life.”
I noticed how much he focused on the lifestyle and perks and how little he actually talked about football, but if he was good enough for a scholarship, he had to be a decent player. I hoped he was for his sake. Otherwise, he was in for a world of hurt. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d make it in time, before his chances ran out. I had a brief image of him as a sixty-year-old down on the line of scrimmage. I shook it off.
“So, you believe in destiny then? Is that what you’re saying?” I teased.
“I don’t know. It had to be destiny that brought us together.”
Oh, good line, I thought as he pulled me closer to him. My cheeks felt warm, and I didn’t think it was the half beer I’d drunk that caused it.
Just like at the arena, his arm stayed around my shoulders most of the night. The smell of his cologne mixed with his maleness combined in a way that did something low and deep in my stomach. It worked on my senses like magic.
Anybody who’s ever been to a bar knows that woman. The one who lets a man hang all over her, pawing at her, and treating her like his possession. He gets defensive when another man so much as looks her way or speaks to her. She laps it up, giggling, or snuggling up to him, enjoying his attention, basking in the way he treats her.
I never liked that woman. I figured there must be something missing in her life to enjoy being in that position. But there I was, behaving just like her, even if I was nothing like I thought she was. I’d assumed she was weak for letting a man treat her that way. Yet here I was, not just putting up with it, but actually enjoying it.
All my life I’d been strong, independent. I’d built my own business from the ground up. It wasn’t like me to take a backseat and enjoy the way a guy hung over my shoulders like a tote bag. Maybe that woman wasn’t who I thought she was, after all. Maybe she was me, and she liked feeling protected, for once. Liked that every decision wasn’t up to her. For once.
I found my attraction to Tony ramping up the longer we stood there together. I enjoyed the closeness, the caresses of his hand on my arm. And I certainly didn’t mind feeling his free hand as it crept up my thigh, either. Or, his mouth as it nuzzled my neck. I turned my head to him, and our mouths met for the briefest moment. His lips were surprisingly soft—especially for a big strong athletic guy like Tony. It was sweet, and stirring, even from that brief contact.
I couldn’t deny the chemistry between us. He was young, strong, virile. A modern-day warrior, wanting to run on the football field, shoving opponents out of the way. Defending his woman by standing up to the bullies. Making me feel protected and special. It moved me far more than I expected, and I melted, snuggling closer into his warm, protective arm.
I looked up at his profile, wondering how far this attraction would take us before the night was through.
Chapter Eight
I didn’t have to wait long before finding out what the rest of the evening held. The minute we were in the cab, his mouth covered mine. His hands pulled me onto his lap, and I could feel his cock, rigid and demanding attention.
I sighed, caught up by my body’s response to his touch, his nearness. Our tongues met, and I shuddered as if lightning bolts raced from my mouth right to my most intimate center. I sighed again, taking his face in my hands as I looked into his soft brown eyes. He crushed his lips against mine. I melted against him, surrendering.
“My place?” he asked, panting between kisses.
“Yes,” I breathed. I needed him. I wanted him. I needed to erase the discomfort of my most recent experience with Jimmy. I was so desperate to be touched and held, to be cherished. He had already stoked a fire in me that wouldn’t go out on its own. I needed him to put it out for me. As soon as he told the driver where to drop us off, I pulled his face back to mine so I could drink in another long, deep kiss.
He led me to his apartment, his hands all over my ass as we walked down the hall. My knees were weak, my heart thudded. I felt a little dizzy, a little overwhelmed. I couldn’t believe this was finally happening, after such a long dry spell—it had been way, way too long—and I almost didn’t know how to act.
I took a cursory look around his apartment, and I couldn’t pretend to be surprised by the way he’d decorated the place. Weights in the corner, football trophies in a bookcase that was empty of books, a signed football, photos of him in his football uniform. I had to admit that he looked killer in a jersey, especially with those tight pants the players wear.
There wasn’t much in the way of comfort in the bedroom, except for a large, fairly well-appointed bed. I wondered how much action it saw. I didn’t have to wonder long, though, since before my mind could consider it, he was backing me up against the edge and lowering me onto the pile of pillows.
Then I closed my eyes and let myself go, swept up in each luscious moment. It didn’t matter if he was a simple jock, that he wasn’t a top executive at some fancy corporation.
He was touching me, kissing me, unbuttoning my blouse, and sliding it over my shoulders and down my arms. His fingers trailed back up to my neck, and he pulled me closer. My skin was on fire, the blaze radiating from deep inside me. There was a sharp, almost painful ache between my legs that I knew only he could soothe.
I moaned when his mouth brushed my throat, moving down to my chest. It had been so long, I was already close to exploding with half my clothes on.
“You like that? Does it feel good?” he whispered, breathing heavily against my skin. I could only whimper in reply, unable to speak for the passion raging through me.
He was thick and full, and I was horny. So horny that I’d forgotten even where we were. And once I’d given myself over to enjoying the moment, I didn’t really care to try to figure anything out—only to feel and enjoy every moment, every touch.
My bra clasped in the front, and he unhooked it with a deft flip of his fingers. I arched my back when his hands covered my breasts, giving my body over to him, wanting to meet his touch with my own. I couldn’t even speak. All I could do to show him how much I loved it, how good it felt, was to moan louder and louder in approval.
His tongue lapped at my nipples, and I held his head fast, pulling him closer.
“Yes!” I cried out, jerking my hips upward. I was dying, almost pleading for him to touch me. To make the ache go away. When his hands fumbled with my pants, I could have cried in anticipation of the relief I so desperately needed and wanted.
Without saying a word, Tony slid down my body, kissing a long, wet trail. I pulled his shirt up his back and over his head, running my hands over his hot, flexing muscles. It made me even hotter, holding on to his strong, powerful shoulders. I dug my fingers into the firm but supple muscles, kneading, groaning, begging for more.
He slid my pants down my thighs, then hooked his fingers into my panties and roll
ed them down. I couldn’t have told him to stop, I needed him too much. I wanted him on me, over me, in me. When his tongue lapped at my slit, then buried itself deep in my heat, I jerked in pleasure, almost jumping off the bed. It was piercing and intense, almost too much for me to handle. I was afraid I might break into a million pieces or explode or die or… something. All I knew was that I was so close, I surely couldn’t stand any more pleasure.
But he gave it to me anyway, driving on and on, licking and sucking until I screamed, my body stiffening before shuddering uncontrollably as waves of bliss rolled over me, down me, through me.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh. My. God. It had been so long. I laid there, nearly whimpering as five years of stress flowed out, and relief settled over me, leaving me breathless and unable to speak.
But he wasn’t finished. Not yet. Not by a long shot. And I barely had time to recover before I heard him pull a condom from a wrapper and slide it over his thick, rigid length.
“You liked that? That was for you. This is for us...” He moved me slightly, positioning himself against me.
“Yes!” I gasped. “Yes, Tony. I want you. Inside of me. Now.”
He laughed gently, placing the tip of his cock in exactly the right spot. He held it there for a moment, as a tease for what was to come. Then suddenly, he pushed inside, and even though I was wet, for a moment it was almost too much. He was big, not the biggest I’d ever had, but pretty damned close, and it had just been too long since… since anything had filled me with such throbbing bliss. I cried out, again, reaching for him, hooking my fingers onto his shoulders, pulling him even deeper inside me.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him tight against me as he slammed into me again and again, rocking me to another orgasm. It throbbed through me, taking me into another world. I moaned, practically speaking in tongues, jerking my hips up to meet him, almost crying because it felt so good.
“Tony… oh, God!” I moaned, burying my face in his neck, shaking from head to toe. He was still going, still pumping in and out, faster and faster. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even come down from the last orgasm before another one started to build. He fondled my breasts, pinching slightly as he ground against me, harder and harder, faster, taking me higher than before until I screamed his name again, and this time, he came along with me.
“Oh, my God.” I gasped for breath, feeling like I’d just been blown apart and put back together, a limp rag doll who had survived a tornado. My hair was a mess, I was sweaty, I knew my makeup had to be running all over my face. I might have even cried a little, somewhere in the middle of it all. It was a blur. A delicious, blissful blur.
And that wasn’t the last time we ended up in blissland that night. He was tireless, and I was insatiable after five years of being untouched. He had the most interesting joyful energy to him, like every time was the first. He had no inhibitions, and he made no apologies. Totally present in the moment, he was like no one I’d ever known before, enjoying himself and laughing at my helpless reactions.
Without a doubt, I enjoyed myself, too. And enjoyed myself and enjoyed myself again. Until I could hardly walk, in fact.
But I had to walk. As difficult as it was to leave him, I couldn’t stay. It would be weird. Besides, I had to feed and water the cat before hitting the sack myself for the night. I slid out of his bed, feeling like a very satisfied, very wanton woman, and got my clothes together as quietly as possible. He was out cold, so I didn’t need to try too hard to avoid waking him. I guessed everybody had their limit.
It wasn’t until I was in the cab, on the way back to my place, that I started giggling almost uncontrollably. There I was, in the back seat with my hands over my mouth to stifle the noise. Finally. After all those years, I’d broken my dry spell with a bona fide sex god.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered to whatever merciful being had finally answered my prayers.
Chapter Nine
“My, my. You’ll have to tell me your secret.”
Rhonda’s sly words pulled me out of the daydream I was having as she set a stack of papers on my desk.
“What’s that?” I could have been slightly embarrassed she’d caught me zoning out like that, especially considering what I’d been thinking about. It had two strong arms, two strong legs, one rock hard cock, and a ton of stamina.
“I said you’ll have to tell me your secret.”
“Which secret is that?”
“The glow in your cheeks. Are you using one of those tinted moisturizers? Or maybe you had an especially hard workout… at the gym.” She winked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I kept my tone light. It was fun having a sexy little secret that wasn’t really a secret. She’d worked for me long enough, I shouldn’t be surprised if she guessed I’d finally gotten some.
I laughed to myself when she left the office, shaking her head and chuckling. For once, it was me coming to work after a steamy night with a hot man. I’d faced down enough of Rhonda’s afterglow and broad winks over the years. Now it was my turn, and I felt more than a little smug.
It was nearly impossible for me to get any work done that day, and I must have forgotten the pencil in my ponytail at least a half-dozen times. I was too distracted to hold a coherent thought in my head for very long—unless that thought had to do with Tony, of course. And I did plenty of thinking about him.
On and off, at the oddest moments, I would find a dirty movie playing in my head, and I was the star, having sex with a hot, young stallion. I’d probably have had a hard time focusing on anything else, even if sex the night before hadn’t been so great. But it had been pretty great. Better than great. Four times in one night? Even I knew that was something extraordinary.
I bit my lip, staring down at a pile of proofs but only seeing Tony’s sweet face over mine as he rocked himself back and forth inside me. He hadn’t been the selfish, oafish lover I’d worried he would be—just the opposite. He’d made sure I was more than just satisfied. And I was. No denying that. Finding a man so focused on my pleasure was rare, and special.
My core tingled at the memory of his tongue on me, in me, all over me. He must have gotten a lot of practice over the years because he sure knew what to do. I blushed furiously, remembering how overpowering the orgasms had been. It was like a dam being broken down, with years of frustration and loneliness pouring out.
Good for you, Sarah. It’s about time you had a boy-toy. And you obviously picked a good one. But before you get too carried away, think about it realistically, is great sex enough to build a solid relationship on?
I frowned at the sound of my skeptical thoughts. I’d been pushing them down all day, in between the fantasies, telling myself that yes, it was enough that we had an intense physical connection, at least for the moment. It was fun. It was what I needed, for God’s sake. But I knew, deep down, that couldn’t be everything. Did we have enough other things in common—besides sex?
Oh, shush! At the moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t care. And I wouldn’t let that critical voice get in the way of my new-found happiness, no matter how fragile.
Relationships have been built on less than that, the Tammy Voice chimed in, and I smiled wryly. Yeah, I knew, even though the sex was great, that wouldn’t be enough by itself. Oh, I needed and wanted the sex, but eventually, I would want more. In the long run, I wanted a partnership, a connection.
What do you have in common with this guy anyway, besides sex, the critical bitch in my head asked again. Seriously? Couldn’t my little voice just take a vacation, or at least Shut The Fuck Up for more than twenty minutes? Couldn’t I just enjoy what I did have for a little while without worrying about needing it to be anything more? Without pushing for something that might never be?
I sighed. Even when I was enjoying myself, that little workaholic alter-ego managed to show up. Making itself heard over everything else that was going on.
I had to physically shake myself, wave my hands aro
und, crack my neck, stretch. Enough with the internal dialogue. I knew I needed to set aside all thoughts of Tony for the rest of the day if I wanted to get any work done. It wasn’t just the proofs that needed review, it was assignments with the creative team for the upcoming Easter work. When push came to shove, I wasn’t about to throw away everything I’d built, just because some guy was good—really good—in bed.
Chapter Ten
I made myself go home at a reasonable time that night, reminding myself of my need for balance. Even if all I did was read a book or binge watch some TV or Netflix program, I needed to get out of the habit of spending so much time with my head in my work. Normally, I would have taken home an armful of ads and designs to look at, especially since so much of my day had gone by while I was in dreamland.
I kept my word with myself, though, knowing I would get my head back into the game after I got to work the following day. It was what other people did, and if they could, I could.
It didn’t take me long to realize that without a purpose, I was bored to death. I needed to cultivate interests outside of the business, something to do when I wasn’t working that didn’t involve ice cream or wine or the couch and the cat. When Tammy called, I jumped on the phone, thrilled to have a diversion.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem.”
“Wait. Workaholic Sarah isn’t workaholicking? Am I hallucinating?”
“Funny. I’m trying out your strategy, silly. What are you doing?”
“I have a late dinner date, but I wanted to call you first. I’m hosting a book brunch this weekend. Actually, Chaz and I are co-hosting.”
“Ooh, co-hosting a brunch. Do I hear wedding bells?”
“Now you’re funny, too.” We both laughed. “Seriously, though, you should come. I’m inviting several couples as well as a few singles. The special guest is a local writer I met when he came into our gallery looking to buy a gift. He’s also friends with one of the girls I work with. You gotta come, it’ll be fun.”