by Natalie Wrye
“So,” Ben finishes, “you’re good with managing relationships? Your relationships with women, I mean?”
I snort, a nervous tickle finding the back of my throat. “I wouldn’t say that. Sevin says that to keep the women from getting too close in our profession requires you to be a professional asshole.”
“Is that how you think of yourself?”
“As what?”
Ben’s brow arches. “As an asshole.”
My heart stops. “No, I don’t mean that…”
But what do I mean? I’m sucking at getting rid of this new babysitter already. I clear my throat.
“I mean, I’m no Prince Charming,” I continue. “I kind of can’t be. When you’re a famous athlete who doesn’t want strings, you sort of have to be the ‘bad guy,’ you know?” I cross my hands in front of me, trying to explain. “You can kiss their foreheads. But no hand-holding. No public signs of affection. No making them think you’ll be something you’re not. You dash their expectations. But one day, some woman is going to come along and try to rattle you. Try to get under your skin. Try to make you see her as someone that she’s not. So, you have to cut the calls short. Keep a distance. Avoid connections. You have to be… To be the…”
“Asshole.” Ben finishes for me. He grunts. “One hell of a job. We saw quite a bit of an athlete’s life with Sevin. With his paternity suit.”
“Yeah, but Sevin… He’s not that kind of guy. I’m not sure he ever was.” I break off, thinking of the man who’s been so much more than a friend to me. My thoughts meander. “He’s not as bad as some other athletes in the business. I mean, he’s not… he’s not…”
Me.
Ben nods, as if hearing my unspoken thoughts.
I thought Naomi was the only one who needed a guide tonight. Babysitters aside and dating guides, I’m starting to realize that someone needs help to get themselves on a different path…
And that someone else might just be me.
Chapter 19
SAWYER
It’s 4 A.M., the sky not yet cracking on the horizon. But I already know it’s going to be a long day.
My new babysitter Ben left hours ago, and I still haven’t gone to bed. Nursing my fifth beer of the night, I stumble around my newly renovated penthouse, my chest squeezing, fist pulsing as I glance up and out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the stunning Sears Tower in the distance.
How silly it all seems now. How useless.
I’d toiled with architects for hours on every inch of space in this apartment. And yet, it meant nothing.
I had no one to share it with. At least, no one meaningful.
Not a woman or Dani or even Dad, and as my footsteps cover every yard of hardwood, I can’t help but feel how meaningless it all is.
To build a life…with only me in it.
The penthouse was a cover I’d used to hide a host of sins.
The surface was great—new and shiny. But it’d needed work underneath, the guts of the entire outfit falling to pieces before I’d had to carefully put everything together.
And somehow the conversation with Ben tonight confirmed everything…
That was me. I’m the fucking penthouse.
Bare and empty inside.
Naomi might have been the only woman who hadn’t cared. At the party, she hadn’t even blinked twice at the new place.
I finish this fifth beer in my hand, already thinking about the sixth. Shirt off, feet bare, I make my way back to the fridge for more when the sounds of footsteps stop me in my tracks.
I glance over and into my doorway to find a beautiful disheveled Naomi, standing there, a question in her eyes.
One I can’t answer right now.
I grab that sixth bottle, closing the door.
“Awake from the dead, I see.”
“Not dead,” she mumbles, offering a sleepy smile. “Just wishing I were. Man, I’m pretty sure I’ve never inhaled wine so fast in my life. I’m just glad the room stopped spinning.”
“Well, if the room’s in danger of spinning, why not head back to bed?”
“Can’t.” She takes a step closer. “I never can sleep when I drink this much. Doesn’t happen often. But a time or two before, I’ve cried in several glasses of wine while watching ‘Me Before You’ so…”
“Let me guess…” My mood is dark. “Another romance movie?”
“Of course. I’m addicted. And I don’t care who knows it. It’s my kryptonite.”
“Why?” I suddenly feel the need to know.
“I don’t know… I just love them. I just think that they’re hopeful and dreamy and focused on happily-ever-after’s and completely and utterly…”
“Delusional, you mean.” I take a swig from my beer, setting it on the kitchen counter. I glower. “The whole concept. The happily ever after’s. Everything. It’s all just so…delusional.”
“Delusional?”
“Yes.” I pick the bottle back up, draining it. “The perfect romance doesn’t happen. And I wish these movies, these messages on TV, would stop floating that theory out there. That love lasts forever. It doesn’t.”
I round the kitchen counters, making a beeline for the fridge again. But Naomi’s voice stops me.
“Okay, so I see we’re at that part of the program, now?”
I stop short. “Quit the program BS, Naomi. I’m serious. I’m not in the mood for this shit.”
“What shit is that exactly?” She asks, crossing her arms as she walks closer. “Intimacy? Love? Marriage? Monogamy? Everything you’re supposed to be learning? Everything I’m supposed to be teaching you? Newsflash, Sawyer: You’ve been learning it the entire time we’ve been together. I’m not an idiot. I can see you changing.”
She keeps walking. “See you transforming. And you know what? It scares the shit out of you. And you’re too damn terrified to admit it.”
“Look, I appreciate the effort, Naomi.” My stare flicks over her figure. “You have no idea how much I really do. But we all know how this is going to end. I give you a great orgasm or two. You give me a good time. We both go back to being the people we were. And Sevin so thoughtfully gives me a bullet to the back of the head. I made it this far in life without risking myself or a possible hole in my cranium. And I'd like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”
I watch the brunette smile, something dawning behind those coffee-colored brown eyes.
A hint of a revelation stretches in her expression. But in seconds, it fades away as she stares at me, shoulders slumping. She crosses her arms over her wrinkled black halter top scarcely hiding her generous bosom, and it takes every ounce of will in my body not to react.
I can't think too much about it. Because in seconds, Naomi draws near, obliterating every other thought in my mind.
Her voice is low, unusually so, as she reaches for me. I barely recognize it. “So if you know that all of this—this pact, this agreement, this ‘you and me’ will go back to being what it was before…” She feathers touches along my shoulder, almost making me shudder. “Then why are you trying to stop it?”
I grab her fingers, feeling much less confident than I did just a minute ago. My skin starts to heat. “Because this is wrong, Naomi, and you know it.”
“Why?”
“Because you work for my best friend.”
“And?”
“Because you’ve hated me from the moment we've met.”
She brushes my statement off with a laugh that tickles something deep down in my soul. I’m seeing the new version of Naomi…and I hate how much I like it.
Watching the normally demure assistant let down her guard is a little intoxicating. And I feel the walls—the shiny, facade-built, fucked-up penthouse in my heart—start to fall.
Brick by brick.
I try to harden them as I grit my teeth. “Look, we’ve both had a long night already. Lots of alcohol. Lots of a drama. And even more ‘lots’ on my mind right now.”
Naomi’s stare grows molten
, nearly hot as she looks up at me, her lips pulled straight on her face. “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not trying to do things to your mind, now, isn’t it?”
NAOMI
Sawyer’s eyes narrow in my direction. But I don’t take the hint.
My mind is racing too hard, my heart, too. The words rush out of my mouth without another thought, spilling out all over the floor without anyone there to wipe them up.
“You are a man who cares more than you will ever let on. You stay later at practice than mostly everyone. Even Sevin. You’re the first one on the field and the last to leave. I see you stare out over the stadium before the game even starts as if you’re still in wonder at how you got there. You talk to every fan. Shake every hand. You laugh and joke with the people who come to see you, as if you know you need to handle them with care. As if you feel personally responsible for the fun they have at the game. You’re good to the people you work with—the ticket holders, the cashiers. You’re loyal to your friends. You clearly love your sister. And you’ve taken care of me now when I was practically passed out. Twice. So, don’t tell me you don’t believe in ‘happily-ever-after’s’. You do. I think you’re just terrified of what will happen to you when you find yours. When you find a love, passion, a connection you can’t live without. I think you’re afraid. I know you are…” I sigh. “Because I’m afraid, too. Afraid of losing you.”
I finally glance up, and into his eyes, and Sawyer is staring at me in shock.
Mouth open, blue eyes wide and full as moons, some indiscernible expression burrows in that beautiful face, but before I can say anything else, he grabs me, touching his lips to mine.
I come alive the moment our mouths connect. The unfiltered passion that hides inside me lets loose the second Sawyer’s arms swing around me, holding me close. All the pent-up frustration in my body turns into a moan that leaves my lips.
Heart on fire, head swimming, I’m intoxicated much more than I’ve been all night.
By him.
His lips. His tongue.
His fingers around my ribs.
His touch will be imprinted on my brain forever, and even when I am old and decrepit, when my teeth are missing and more than a few marbles as well, I will always remember the feeling of utter sensuality he gives me every time we touch, every time we’re even near each other, breathing the same air.
Even at this very moment, I’ve never felt so sexy in my life. So sure.
I feel like I can fly under his hot gaze. And as he backs up, disconnecting our lips, I wonder if he can tell—read my thoughts just by looking at me.
Under the cover of mostly darkness, I can still tell his blue eyes are burning a hole into mine, his steady stare hot all over my skin. He makes no effort to move any more than one step away, and it’s pure torture.
Continuing to hover close to me, his presence—looming and large makes me feel like both the smallest and strongest woman alive, my arousal blooming just by looking at him.
“You are fucking marvelous, do you know that?”
“Not lately,” I confess. “Not until you.”
“I hope you know…” he smiles slowly, breaking my heart in two, “that I’ve never wanted another woman like you. Never wanted to spend time with. Talk with. Laugh with. Make love to a woman like you.”
“Make love with?” I laugh, hooking my hands around his neck. “Sawyer Kennedy makes love?”
He steals my line. “Never,” he confesses. “Not until you.”
He kisses me again, leaving me panting up at him. His hands fall to my hips, playing there. And within seconds, he’s pushing me backwards, leading me towards the bedroom.
My third set of Hello Kitty panties are soaked by the time we make it to the doorway, and I am speechless, utterly dumbstruck when Sawyer reaches for his shirt, pulling it over his head.
He sends it sailing.
His jeans are the next to go, revealing dark boxer briefs bulging at the center, and within seconds, he’s stepping out of those too.
I can do nothing but stare—literally stare—as his underwear drops, revealing what might be the hugest cock I’ve ever seen in real life. My jaw drops.
“Seriously? Are you made of Clay-doh? Because you are unreal.”
“I take it that the comparison to Clay-doh is a good thing?” He arches a brow.
“I can’t speak from experience, per se, but this...” I point between his legs. “…what you have right there belongs in a museum. And if I were a less jealous woman, I would urge you in to considering it. But technically,” I grin, walking closer, “I want you all to myself.”
“My, my, my. Someone’s gotten bold.”
“Someone’s helped me get bold. And there’s no going back.”
He stands there, gloriously naked for a second or two, his prized prick still harder than pure steel, brushing my stomach.
His blue eyes singe with a subdued fire, and this time, I can see them. Every single bit of the flame in those deep oceanic irises is on me, and my heart, which has been on a rollercoaster all night, sinks into my stomach as he tilts his head, placing his full lips directly against my neck, a smile curving against my skin.
His voice rumbles against it.
“I want you to know…this is not about me at all tonight. This is about you.” He pauses, his words tickling against my nape. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise. I just want to make you feel good. Feel wanted. This is not about me. I’m not Mr. Del Monte, your favorite banana. You don’t have to worry about your technique tonight.”
He laughs against my shoulder, holding me close. And I’m practically melting.
“It’s my party. And I’ll practice if I want to.”
I lead him to the bed. Pushing him down on it, I climb on top of him, untying the tie on my halter-top. I let the ties around my neck fall.
Chapter 20
NAOMI
I’d never seen Sawyer needy once in all the time I’ve known him. Never seen him desperate for a woman’s attention.
But tonight? Tonight, he stares at me as if he will die if he doesn’t have me.
That single glare surpasses all the stares before it.
His eyes are heated pools of retched desire. His fingers curl…as if they’re dying to touch me.
And I know he is exercising patience. Know that he is letting me do things on my terms, spin them at my speed.
And I love that about him.
He’s looking at me as if he could eat me right now as I sit across his naked body, undressing. My breasts are bare, heavy with want, and I raise my hands to them, cupping them, nipples hardening under my touch as I caress each to heated points.
Sawyer groans out loud. “Fuck, kitty, are you trying to kill me?”
“Not unless you’re suicidal.”
“I think my heart is going to explode. And I haven’t actually touched you yet.” He props himself up on his elbows, still laying on his back on the mattress, eyes even. “You are the sexiest fucking woman on the earth, and I should have done this a long time ago.”
“To be fair,” I say, continuing to tease my areolas, “if you had tried, I would have kicked you in the balls.”
“It would have been worth the pain. God, would it have been worth the pain. So, are you going to take that off? Because you’re only causing more of it.”
He reaches for the soft fabric of the lowered halter top, running a finger over its soft edge, and finally I grab the hem of it, pulling over my head, flinging it to the farthest corner of the room.
I look down at him.
He’s still hard. Still immaculate. Still perfect.
And I can’t believe I’m here. With him. Literally on the edge of losing my virginity to my fantasy.
I reach for my jeans, and his eyes widen, hair falling to the side of his face, his fingers still curled.
I leap off his lap to stand.
“You know, if I hadn’t gotten so drunk last night, I might not have come here.
And then we wouldn’t be doing this, so I guess my wine consumption and Soca wound up being a gift from God.”
“Nice try. But you speed balling Cabernets is not a gift from God.” He grins. “But your body sure as hell is. Take those off…so I can see the Lord’s work.”
I do as he says, shimmying out of them. The last item on my frame are my favorite pair of Hello Kitty briefs, and the smile I earn from him the second he sees them makes every step to get to this point worth it.
Sawyer breaks out into chuckles on his bed, leaning in for a closer look.
“Oh, Hello Miss Kitty. My, how I’ve missed you.”
I laugh right back, hooking my fingers in the corners. “Miss Kitty has missed you too. Very, very much.”
“I just feel sad for what you’re doing to her face. Poor thing’s all wet.”
Having mercy on Kitty’s wet head, I slide those down, too. I reach the edge of the bed, crawling up on it. Over Sawyer’s white sheets, I move forward until I’m back on his lap, almost close enough to sit on the nine inches of unreal steel staring me in the face.
“This is way bigger than Mr. Del Monte.”
“With more of the flavor.” He grins.
“We’ll let me be the judge of that.” And with a secret smile for him, I wrap my mouth around Sawyer’s cock. His surprise is sudden, a moan leaving his mouth that wasn’t supposed to be there.
He tries to stop me, his hands flying down his body, but I wave them off.
Using my technique from our practice session, I take him in. Sucking him with the relish of a ripe piece of fruit, I soak him with my tongue, licking him all over.
He is salty—every savory inch of his manhood. And he was right.
Having him here gives me power. I feel a sexual energy I’ve never known. And with all the knowledge of my Mr. Del Monte time, I work Sawyer’s cock with my lips, sliding, slurping, swallowing him down until he is harder than I ever imagined possible, every inch of his thick shaft certified steel as I bob up and down.
“Holy fuck…” he groans, digging his hands into my hair. “I should have shut my mouth. Please. Take all the practice you can get, baby. I beg of you.”