Gwen’s lashes fluttered as she broke my gaze. She reached up and tossed her hair over her neck, a nervous gesture I used to think was incredibly sweet. “Law,” she said, looking back at me after a moment. “What are we doing here?”
I took another sip, considering the best way to answer her question. Then I sat my glass down and reached over, picking up Gwen’s hand. With Gwen, honesty was always the best policy. “It’s been a shitty week,” I said. “Seeing you has been the highlight. All I want to do, right now, is go upstairs, seclude ourselves for a few hours, and pretend like this entire thing has been one bad dream. I want to lose myself in you, Gwen. Because I remember just how good it was.”
I had her hand in mind, and I picked it up, running her knuckles along my cheekbone. Gwen’s eyes tracked my hand. Her jaw seemed to slacken slightly, and her eyes darkened, but she didn’t respond.
“No strings,” I said. “I don’t want anything from you. I just – I want to be with a friend right now. I don’t want to be by myself. I thought you might feel the same way. Do you?”
“Yes,” she breathed, her body swaying into mine. I smiled at her, letting her see just how hungry for her I was.
Then I leaned in close so that I could smell her hair, the floral of her perfume, and that clean laundry scent that always seemed to stick to her skin. I brushed my lips lightly over her cheek bone. “I’m glad it’s you with me,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She turned her face toward me, and I kissed her.
6
Gwen
It had been two months since I’d had sex. That wasn’t a record or anything, but my ex hadn’t been all that great in bed. And I’d been aching for Law since the moment I’d laid eyes on him. Law wasn’t the only one who remembered that weekend at Lakeport. More than the cold water and the incident with the raccoon, I remembered the cabin he’d rented. A small, one room, secluded thing where we’d practiced at least eighteen of the different positions I’d read about in Cosmo girl. That weekend we’d teased, we’d fucked, we’d made love, and I’d ended up so sore that I’d had to visit an OBGYN when I’d gotten home.
Three doctors had stood between my legs, examining my lady bits, before one had finally declared that I had “sex blisters.”
“What kind of kink are you into!” she had joked. “What’s wrong with that boyfriend of yours? Doesn’t he know about foreplay?” I’d neglected to tell the doctor exactly what Law knew about foreplay. The truth? Law was damn thick around, and we’d had a lot of sex. Whenever I wanted to get myself off, I thought back to that weekend.
I was thinking about that weekend when Law put his lips to my cheekbone, when he kissed me.
His lips were soft as satin, and firm as my mouth opened under his. His tongue swept in, and I felt my insides turn to liquid. I kissed him back, hungrily, suddenly afire with need for him. God – it had always been this way with Law. It was as if my body cried out for him and, once near him, wouldn’t rest until we’d joined.
His hand snaked into my hair, holding my head still as his mouth plundered mine. I whimpered beneath him, my body remembering all the things he used to do to me. Law is not a very emotional guy, but if you’ve ever watched him play football… Yes: He’s that explosive in bed.
His free hand slid from my knee to my thigh, and I felt my legs parting for him, my chest pressing forward, breasts brushing against his jacket.
Law broke the kiss, his eyes shooting fireworks beneath his heavy lids. “Come on,” he said, giving me a small nudge toward the end of the booth. “Let’s take this upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” Was he going to rent a room?
“I live here. My apartment is on the 10th floor.”
I knew I should care that he’d planned this, care that he’d brought me to a bar that just happened to be beneath his apartment, but I didn’t. Not at all. All I wanted right now was for Law to fuck me senseless and make me forget about this horrible week. I knew he could.
Grabbing my drink and tossing it back, I got out of the booth and let Law lead me to the elevator, his hand hot on my low back, his fingers brushing the top of my ass. I wanted this. Badly.
In the elevator, Law hit a button for the top floor, and the moment the doors closed behind us, he pressed me against the wall and kissed me. One foot pushed my legs apart. He grabbed my hips, bent his knees, and ground against me so that I could feel the thick length of his iron-hard cock pressing against my sweet spot. I kissed him even harder and tilted my hips into his: a blatant invitation.
When the elevator opened, he bent his knees lower and lifted me abruptly. I had to grab onto his neck and wrap my legs around his waist. My dress rode up my thighs, exposing my ass for the world to see.
But Law didn’t stop moving. He held me to him with one hand, his mouth at my neck, sending darts of pure sensation from my neck to my groin. I moaned.
I’m not sure how we got inside his apartment, I was too far gone to notice, but I gasped when he unceremoniously dumped me onto his couch. Then I could only stare as he started to strip. His jacket flew in one direction, his tie in another. I lifted the edge of my dress to take it off, but he growled, “No! Let me.”
So I stopped and watched, my mouth going drier and drier as he tore his shirt over his head, revealing a tattoo I’d never seen before: there were four slashes, as if an animal had torn his skin, and beneath his skin was a layer of iron. I reached out to touch it, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me up.
He had my dress off in a second.
“Oh, fuck,” he barked, and I was glad I’d had the foresight to dress in black panties and a matching black bra. Pulling me roughly to him, Law kissed me hard, unhooked my bra, and pulled it from my shoulders. Then he broke the kiss and got down to his knees, one at a time. He looked up, never breaking eye contact, and I trembled as he slowly hooked one finger underneath my black thong and slid it down my thighs. Eyes still on mine, his hands came up, holding my hips in place, and his head dipped down. Fuck! Fuck!
His tongue slid between my lips and glided upward over my clit. I moaned, and he did it again. Oh god. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensations shooting through me, and Law took that as an invitation to press onward, and he did, eating me with his whole mouth, his tongue working his way inside me until I was keening. Oh god!
His mouth left me so abruptly that I all but fell back onto the couch, staring up at him in confusion, but he was smiling at me, licking me off of his lips. I knew this game. He loved it: bring me close to orgasm and then withhold. Withhold until I begged him for it. Well, two could play at that game.
I pushed my hair out of my face and sat up on his couch, spreading my legs so he could see how swollen and wet I was. Then I reached forward and grabbed his belt buckle. I made slow work of the belt, slow work of the zipper, and tugged his boxer briefs and his slacks down to mid-thigh. His erection sprang free: long, thick, and heavy.
Without preamble, I fit my mouth around it, loosening my jaw muscles so that I could fit him in.
“Fuck!” he said, steadying himself by winding his hands into my hair and shuddering as my tongue shot out along the underside of him.
Slowly, so slowly, I fit him deeper, sucking hard, moving on and off his shaft until his hips were straining for more – I couldn’t give it. He was too big.
Cursing, he all but tugged me off of him and pulled me up, kissing me hard, his hands cupping my breasts and squeezing gently, rolling over their sensitive tips. My body was electric, and his touch was conductive. My body sang with sensation that I nearly lost myself to. Then he let go.
In one motion, he spun me around and bent me over, planting my hands on the couch so that my ass was in the air. I held onto the cushions as he bent down, and I cried out as he put his mouth on me again, this time from behind, and he slid a finger inside me. Then another. Oh god, I was going to come!
As if he could sense it, he pulled away, and I cried out as he kissed the backs of my thighs, trying to calm me down.
“Shhh, relax, baby. There’s no rush,” he murmured, his teeth sinking into my ass cheek. I jumped and whined. His fingers returned, dipping in slowly, swirling, thrusting in and out, and widening me, preparing me to take him. Oh god! Not like this. He wasn’t going to fit like this.
As if he knew what I was thinking, he stood and spun me around in his arms. He’d kicked off his pants, and I got a look at his lean, muscled thighs before he took my lips in another searing kiss. I couldn’t take any more; my body was aching for release, aching to feel him thick and hot inside me.
“Law,” I begged against his mouth. That was all he needed. He backed me up until the wall was against my back, and he bent, grabbing my left leg and hooking it over his arm, opening me for his penetration. His mouth never left mine – his kiss hot, and his tongue thrusting in a carnal rhythm. I felt the thick tip of him against my entrance, rubbing, coating himself in wetness. How…I looked down and saw that his knees were bent, poised to drive into me.
I met his gaze; he was smiling that slow, sexy smile he used to give me when he was about to give it to me good. He began to push in, inch by slow inch, and the angle he’d created all but ensured he’d be deep inside me.
I gasped, and he withdrew, but I wasn’t expecting what he did next: one long, hard thrust, and he was in me to the hilt. I cried out, my orgasm crashing on me with a ferocious suddenness. He had to hold me up as I convulsed around him, sobbing with the intensity of the release.
“Oh, baby,” Law whispered in my ear. “We’re not done yet.” He began to withdraw, bending his knees and easing out of me. I whimpered at the loss of the feeling, at the intensity of sensation that swirled through me. He drove in again, hard. I cried out, clinging to him, trying to find some purchase, but I was powerless in this position. Out, then in again. I cried out with each thrust of his hips, each time he entered me. My body quickening with each stroke, building toward something big. “Oh god!” I cried out. “I can’t again! Law!”
He grabbed my other leg and hoisted me up so that I was trapped between the wall and his chest, my legs wrapped around his hips. Still buried deep inside me, he shoved off of the wall and walked us down the hall. I barely noticed. He was feasting on my neck, his teeth scoring the sensitive skin.
Laying me down on the bed, pulling out only to adjust himself, before I knew it, my legs were over his shoulders and he’d come into me again. The angle was so intense that I screamed, but he relented not one bit. “Come for me again, baby,” he gasped as he thrust, his rhythm constant and unrelenting. Oh! It was too intense! I couldn’t take it!
“Oh god! Oh god!” I chanted.
He reached down; his finger brushed against my clit, and I exploded around him. My cries were drowned out by his as he came like a bull inside me, bellowing, letting go of my legs so that they fell from his shoulders and his weight fell against my chest. My orgasm went on and on, and I wrapped my legs around him, holding him tight to me.
7
Law
I was not expecting that. Shit. I was not expecting that.
I’d like to think I have an excellent memory, that I hadn’t forgotten a single thing about Gwen Mathers, but I had convinced myself over the years that the sex couldn’t actually be as good as I remembered. It was better. It was mind-blowingly amazing.
She kissed like a nymphomaniac, and the way she’d squeezed onto my cock… I’d thought I was going to explode on that first stroke. Holy hell.
And it had been so much more emotional than I’d meant for it to be. That was my fault – I’d wanted to remind her, wanted her to remember that we’d been damn good together and that she’d let go of something terrific. But I’d come out of my stupor to feel her hands in my hair, her breath hot and sweet on my cheek — and I’d lost myself in memories of her. Nobody fucked like Gwen Mathers. I hadn’t let go of her. Not for minutes.
We got up to clean ourselves off, and I took my time, admiring Gwen’s long legs, tight ass, and perfect breasts with her pale, pink nipples still tight from my attention. I got her a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to wear, and when she put them on, she looked so much like the girl I used to spoon in my single bed my junior year that my heart hurt. Fuck. I had to get ahold of myself.
I asked if she wanted to spend the night and was delighted as fuck when she said yes. She called her mother to check in on Nikki and looked relieved when her mother picked up the phone. Watching Gwen’s face as she spoke to her mom reminded me of how tense their relationship was. I had never understood until she’d finally let me meet Alice Mathers. I hadn’t liked her mother from the beginning, and the thought of Alice taking care of Nikki left me feeling slightly uneasy.
“Do you want me to go over and pick her up?” I asked when Gwen hung up the phone.
Gwen shook her head, saying that Nikki would be fine. I put on a movie for us — something I knew would bore her. Sure enough, half-way through, Gwen slid down the couch and sucked me until I was hard. I took her into the kitchen and reminded her what it felt like when I took my time.
Not long after, my Uncle Joe’s grandson, Tony, came over with a few Styrofoam containers of food, saying they were leftovers from Benevento’s and that Uncle Joe didn’t want me to go hungry. Gwen and I sat at my kitchen table and ate leftover bread, cheese, and charcuterie.
It was eight o’clock when we went to bed. I was raring to go again, but Gwen looked fit to pass out. So we fucked on our sides. Gwen spooned against me, her ass cradled in my hips as I drove in and out of her slowly, my hands reaching around to ensure she came. Twice.
Afterward, Gwen passed out, but I couldn’t quite fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I was exhausted too, but I had a feeling that this moment between us would be a fleeting one. That Gwen was going to wake up and decide – like she had six years ago – that I wasn’t worth her time. So I held her for a while, savoring the feeling of having her back in my arms.
8
Gwen
Have you ever woken up from a dream only to realize that it's not a dream at all? I don't think I can accurately count how many times after breaking up with Law that I dreamed we were back together. Waking up after having the most mind-blowing sex of my life, beneath thousand-thread-count sheets in a bed so plush that it threatened to swallow me… It sure beat the hell out of my TJ Maxx sheets on my discount Sleepy’s mattress, in my one-bedroom apartment in Bridgeport Chicago.
I took a deep breath and rolled over, not surprised to see that Law wasn't in bed. From what I remembered, Law slept lightly and was usually up earlier than five.
I reached out and rested my hand on Law's abandoned pillow. For the first time in a very long time, I wondered if breaking up with Law really had been the right move.
Yes, I’d been upset over his connections with the Mafia. People like the Garcias and the Julianos made their money off of people like my parents: vice-driven and weak-willed. They murdered, bribed, stole, and used coercion... But Law wasn't involved in any of it, even if he did know them all personally, ate at their restaurants, and went over to their homes on Sundays...
My discovery of Law’s connection to the Mafia (the night I’d walked in on the meeting at Leonie’s) was the same night my mother had overdosed for the fourth time, the same night we’d had to sign her into rehab for the second time. I hadn't been able to deal with the knowledge that the man I loved most was close with the people responsible for all that was wrong with Miami. I told him that befriending the Julianos, spending time with them, was akin to condoning their activities. He’d argued that the world wasn’t black and white.
For me, it was.
And to a certain degree, it still was. Daily, I sat down to try to counsel children whose parents were abusive, or who'd been shot, or who had seen others shot; children whose parents had no love or empathy, who had neglected them. There were bad people in this world. Law wasn’t one of them. Just because Law consorted with bad people didn't make him a bad person. Did it?
I reached down and touched myself idl
y - I was sore and yet still burning for him. If my goal had been to take my mind off of my sister, mission accomplished. But thoughts of my sister drove me to check my phone. We had just over an hour before we were supposed to be at the lawyer's office. I dialed my mom.
"Hello?" she picked up on the third ring.
"Hey, mom," I said. "I'm checking in."
"Where are you?" my mother asked, though she didn't sound upset.
"I stayed at Law's apartment last night," I told her. "How is Nikki?"
"She was up at four in the morning," my mother sounded tired, but sober. "And she fell back asleep an hour ago. She's on the couch now."
"Are you both coming to the lawyer's office?"
"No. I...I can't. You take care of it."
“Okay."
"Call me after."
"I will." I hung up the phone. At least she was sober and could take care of Nikki. Oh god, Nikki. Poor Nikki. Poor Mia. My heart hurt.
I slid out of bed, on a mission to find Law. I wouldn't mind another distraction.
As I slid into the hall, I tried to orient myself. I realized that I could hear his voice. He was down the hall somewhere, talking to someone.
Not wanting to disturb him, I walked quietly down the carpeted hallway. Leopard print? Really? His voice got louder as I passed through his sumptuously decorated living room, and I stopped outside a door that was cracked ajar: his office.
"...No, don't do anything. Not until we meet face to face and talk about this." Law's voice usually held a soft neutrality, revealing nothing. Now, however, he sounded cautious, slightly urgent. "Fine. Then let me meet with Sonny personally. Tell him to hold off, yes. Of course you can be there, too..."
Bad Ballers: A Contemporary Sports Romance Box Set Page 30