by Aja Cole
"Both." Putting her glass on the table, she presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. "Ugh, I don't know what I want. I just...I don't know. I just wish I wasn’t so…stuffy.” She waves her hand dismissively. "But whatever. You could probably take your own advice, by the way."
"Me?" I massage the pads of her feet absently. "I'm fine."
"Didn't you just say to me that I don't have anything to prove to anyone? What about you? Why does everyone else need to be okay with what you do if you're not hurting anyone? Why are we doing," she gestures to our surroundings, "this? It's your life. Not theirs."
"This is different..." I start, but she cuts me off with a sharp hand.
"It's not. They think they have you all figured out, too. Judged you already without even knowing the full story. Fuck them." She emphasizes passionately, her eyes narrowed and fiery. "You're not some callous, out of control asshole, Dylan. On the surface, it looks like you love all the attention but I know you don't. You just happen to be sexy enough and mysterious enough that people come up with their own answers about you, without knowing you."
Champagne Shayla apparently turns into an advocate, and I can't say that I'm mad at it. It's pretty adorable, and aside from my family, no one's ever basically told me that they support me this way.
But I don't really want to get into the feelings that her words are tossing at me, so I latch onto a different part of her little speech.
"You think I'm sexy and mysterious?"
Her mouth gapes and I beam.
"Really? That's all you heard?" She huffs. "You are such a man."
"I think you already know I'm all man, sweetheart."
"Oh yeah?" Her eyes lower and my gaze is drawn to her lips.
"Do you need a reminder?" I ask, damn near holding my breath for her answer. My hands stroke the top of her dainty feet until she slips them away from my lap, rising to her knees in the middle of the couch.
Wordlessly, she strips off her shirt, revealing a sheer, skin toned bra that makes her hard nipples even more enticing through the fabric. I watch her silently while she stands up, shimmying her jeans down her legs and leaving behind matching underwear. It almost looks like she's wearing nothing at all, and I've never seen a more alluring sight.
"Refresh my memory, Mr. Hunter."
14
Shayla
I’m standing here nearly naked and for once, the only thing I'm asking myself is when he's going to make his move. This thing between us...whatever it is, whatever it isn't...I just know that I want it.
Now.
He hooks one finger in the front of my panties, pulling me closer and I oblige until I'm standing between his spread legs. There's a vulnerability in standing here with my clothes gone while he sits there with his sleeves rolled up to display powerful forearms, tie loose around his neck and slacks pulled taut over his noticeable erection. He hasn't shaved his face in a few days and the shadow on his cheeks and jaw add to how rugged he looks right now. Green eyes burn into me and I know there's no backing away from this cliff.
Not anymore.
He sweeps his hands over my hips, my sides, the curve of my breasts and teases his fingers over my nipples through the mesh of the bra, and down my abdomen. He rests his palm on top of my mound, and I close my eyes at the brazen heat.
"You're breathtaking." He rumbles in that sex deep voice of his, and I open my eyes, placing my hand over his.
"So are you."
"You've had too much champagne, you're seeing things." His face creases in a lazy smile and I climb on the couch atop him, framing his face in my hands.
"My vision is just fine." I draw a finger from his forehead down to his jaw, coasting over and up the other side of his face and between his brows, down the proud line of his nose. I stop with a finger on his lips as if I'm shushing him. I lean closer, my finger the only thing between our mouths. "Like I said...breathtaking."
His arms band around me at the same time as I wrap my arms around his neck, and our bodies fit each other like they were made with each other in mind. I pour all of my desire into our kiss, and it feels like he learns my mouth with his for ages. Our tongues tease and tempt, and his fingers dig into my ass with the most delicious bite. He unhooks my bra with ease, moving it out of the way and filling his mouth with my breasts. He molds them in his hands, nibbling and licking his way over my nipples the same way he did the other night.
It worked then, and it's damn sure working now.
"I want you to ride me like this, fucking me while I keep playing with these," he emphasizes his enthusiasm with a kiss on each nipple, shaking his head like he can't believe his luck. "I love your breasts so fucking much."
I back off his lap to take off my panties and move back into place but he stops me, whirling me around so my back is to him instead. His breath hisses out behind me, and I bite my lip and arch my back when he grips my ass cheeks again. My skin is so sensitive to his touch, so much more than it's been for any man before him.
"Bend over, put your hands on the table for me."
I shiver at the command, following his instructions immediately. A moan spills from my lips when he blows cool air over my hot pussy and my knees almost buckle, but he grips my thighs and keeps me up. One long lick of my slit almost sends me over the table.
"Fuck," I croak, feeling him pull me open with his thumbs, darting his tongue inside my heat. Being bent over like this makes him eating me out feel dirtier, and even better if that's possible. He drives me wild switching between fucking me with his tongue and fingers and surrounding my clit with his mouth, and my orgasm takes me by surprise. I shudder on my toes, fingers gripping the table for dear life while he licks me through the climax until I'm twitching away from him.
"Change of plans," Dylan growls low in my ear, pulling my body back against his. At some point, he undid his slacks and I can feel his cock throbbing against me. "You make me crazy, feels like I'm gonna die if I don't fuck you."
"Dylan," My vocabulary flees and all I want is for him to fill me completely. I don't care about anything else in this moment. Still clothed, with only his dick free, he notches that thick, beautiful cock against me and slides into me inch by inch. I can't do anything else but drop my head against him and let him have total command of my body. I grip his head and expose my neck for him, relishing in the bites and kisses he drops on my skin. His fingers pull and twist my nipples and I writhe against him, encouraging him with body and my words.
"Feels so good."
"Fucking hell, Shayla."
"Need you, so bad." I drop my head forward, gasping when his fingers find my clit and he rubs in tandem with his strokes.
"You have me, baby, you have me." He jerks me into his lap totally and I'm no match for his strength. He drapes my body over the arm of the couch, rising behind me and shoving his pants off his legs before he moves back into position, impaling me with one thrust.
I come again, just like that.
He fucks me with abandon, with the passion that I'm coming to crave, his hand gripping my neck and his hips slapping against my ass. I'm completely at his mercy and the drag of his cock inside me feels so damn good that I'm lost in the moment, lost in him with no way out. Warmth spreads through my body again, my fingers and toes tingling and I gasp his name over and over, shaken at how he makes me feel.
"Shit!" He curses, just before he pulls out and I feel the warmth of his cum on my ass and lower back. I rest my face on the soft fabric of the armrest, melting into the couch and completely content. It's not long before I feel him wiping off my body with something. When I muster up the energy to look at him, he's pulling his pants back on and zipping them up. His head is lowered so I can't see his face, but dread rolls through me anyway.
I think he's going to walk away, but he drops to his knees in front of me instead, pulling my lips to his in a soft kiss and pressing his forehead to mine.
Whew.
"We can't do this again."
Oh.
His words punch me right in the stomach and hot tears come to my eyes, but I'm not going to let them fall. I blink furiously and nod my head against his, even though I don't understand.
"It's not you." I can hear the regret his voice as he brushes hair away from my face.
"It's okay. Don't worry about me." I kiss him on the cheek and move away, hiding my face under the guise of picking up my things. "This was fun."
I don't give him a chance to say anything else. I grab my things and go to my room, heading immediately to the shower because there's no better place to cry in peace.
You'd think I would've learned my lesson by now.
Guess not.
15
Dylan
I'm exhausted and the only thing I want to do is sleep. I'm glad to be back home, though. I always look forward to sleeping in my bed again after away games.
And you missed Shayla.
Alright, maybe a little.
But my body is still aching from the hit I took yesterday and I can't decide if my hunger needs are pressing enough to eat first, or if I should just drag myself to my room and pass out until tomorrow.
Realistically, I know I'll regret it if I don't eat so I head to the kitchen and scramble a few eggs, throwing some bacon in the oven and an everything bagel in the toaster.
Nothing better for dinner than breakfast.
"Need more protein," I murmur, searching through the fridge until I find my almond milk and some fruit. I throw it all in the blender with some ice, protein powder and Skyr, shoveling eggs and bacon in my mouth while I wait for it to finish.
There's an urgent knock on the front door and I glance at my watch, knowing I'm not expecting anyone.
It's probably for Shayla, then.
I pull up the front door camera on my phone, seeing a harried, dark-haired man.
"Who is it?" He jumps when I speak, definitely not expecting that I can talk to him without opening the door.
"Uh," he clears his throat, leaning against the door with one hand. "Here for Shayla, but uh," he puts his hand to his mouth and makes a retching sound that makes me grimace. "Need your bathroom."
I open the door and give it a wide berth, pointing to the guest bathroom and watching Shayla's guest run to it and shut the door. I can very clearly hear him puking his guts out, and I take a bite of my bagel, wondering what his story is.
I'm finishing my shake when Shayla comes downstairs in a flowy red dress and matching wedges, her hair not in its usual twists but instead, curled around her shoulders.
She could make a burlap sack look amazing.
I've had games for the past two weeks and have been at practice or away games, so we haven't interacted privately much. It's not as tense as I expected.
I think we both have accepted that it's better to go back to the original rules and not get wrapped up in anything else.
I had to pull back because I almost finished inside her without a condom. I’ve never slipped up like that, ever. But I got so wrapped up in her that I lost my mind for a second.
She’s dangerous.
That hasn't stopped her from being on my mind though.
"Was that the door?" Her brow furrows as she looks around.
"Yeah, you've got a visitor but he's a little preoccupied with the toilet right now."
"The toilet?" She questions, setting her purse down just as the bathroom door opens.
Mystery guy looks terrible. He started out with the same warm brown complexion as Shayla, but now he looks washed out and drawn.
"Hey Marshmallow," he says weakly. "I'm ready to go, just had to," He blanches, scurrying back to the toilet and I finish my shake, sympathetic.
"I think he's going to be in there for a while," I take down some anti-nausea meds, a Ginger-Ale out the fridge and some water.
"Damn," She curses softly, sighing. "I've been on the waiting list for weeks for this class, and they won't be in town again until next year."
"What class?"
"Ballroom dance, taught by this amazing instructor, he and his wife have won every award there is, pretty much. I was always too nervous to go, but I," she shrugs, "I thought I'd give it a shot, but now Shawn is sick."
The bathroom door opens again and "Shawn" comes out finally, looking a little better but still worse for wear.
"I think I ate some bad sushi for lunch," he shakes his head, "Sorry, cous. But I think I can rally, it'll be fine. Just no quick turns."
"There is no way I'm dragging you to a dance class in this state, and you have to have a partner." Shayla gives him a look of disbelief, that brow wrinkled. "You've lost your mind. I'm just gonna go change into some pajamas and then I'll make you some soup. You can shake it off here." She looks at me like she's getting confirmation, and I nod. I'm not going to say the guy can't stay when he looks like he does.
"You paid for this class and I know you were looking forward to it. You're not skipping it for me." He says firmly, his eyes skirting to me. "Dylan, right?"
"Yep, that's me." He sticks his hand out, assuring me he washed them before we shake.
"You can go in my place, right? I don't want to be the reason marshmallow misses this, I'd feel shitty."
"Excuse me, if I'd wanted him to go, I would've asked him in the first place." She protests and I look at her, putting a hand to my chest.
"Damn."
"I didn't mean it like that," she huffs, crossing her arms. "I just meant that I knew your schedule and I figured you'd be tired and the last thing you'd want to do is go to a dance class."
She is not wrong about any of those things.
But...I'm not going to tell her that.
"If you don't mind me going, then there's no reason you have to miss it."
Shayla turns to Shawn, "We can't leave you here alone. What if you need something?"
"Then I'll find it." He crosses his arms, getting the same stubborn look on his face that Shayla gets. "If I'm really dying, I'll call an ambulance or my mom. But otherwise, I'm a grown man. I can handle a few hours by myself."
Raising her eyes to mine, Shayla looks like she's trying to think of any other reasons for why I can't go to this class with her. If I were nicer, I'd probably bow out myself since she's obviously conflicted about it.
But I think another part of her is just nervous about the class itself, and I don't want her to back out because she's a little anxious.
"Fine." She relents, "You get dressed and I'll get him settled."
I jog up the stairs to my room, giving my bed a longing glance.
Soon, my friend. Soon.
Guess what? Ballroom dancing is kind of...fun.
I wasn't expecting that.
I thought it would probably be stuffy and boring, lots of guided instruction and probably full of old people honestly.
Instead, it's pretty damn lively and everyone here seems to be around our age and some, a little younger. The older couples aren't that old, either.
All in all, I'm still exhausted but I'm glad I came because I can see how much Shayla is enjoying herself too.
I've realized that I'd do many things to see a smile on her face.
"Alright, everyone, time for a partner exchange! Let's see if you remember my moves without your date pulling all the weight." Alexandre, the instructor calls out, and everyone laughs. People shuffle around partners until everyone is with someone new, and I spot Shayla with a tall, dark-haired guy who mentioned he was in Finance.
I got his date, a bubbly blonde who's holding onto me a little too tight.
"Dylan, right?" She smiles.
"Yeah, and you?"
"Kenzie."
"Nice to meet you, Kenzie." The music starts and the steps are fairly simple right now, so we follow them automatically, and I'm careful not to spin her into another couple.
"So, where are you from, Dylan?"
"Nashville. You?"
"Right here in Atlanta, born and raised. What are you doing after this?"
The question surprises me
so much that I miss a step, and she laughs as I get back on track.
"Going home with my date, I imagine." I look over her head to Shayla, who's laughing with finance guy.
"Well, I'm heading to a party tonight if you decide you want a little more fun." Her tone is suggestive, and I'm starting to feel a tad uncomfortable. "And I really know how to party." She sniffs, and I realize that she's been sniffing randomly since she came to me. It doesn’t take long before I realize that she means a different kind of fun than just dancing and drinking.
When I first came to the Outlaws, it was right after all the shit that happened with Tammy. I was grateful for the trade because it meant I could get a fresh start, but my head was still in a bad place.
That's when my worst binges happened. Gambling, parties, women...the whole reason that everyone started to think I'd just decided to turn into some wild party boy and it's stuck. Even though I hadn't gone back to things being that bad for a few months before meeting Shay in that bar.
The one thing I never did though, was hard drugs. Some weed here and there, but that's it. I thought about it, more than a few times. Of course you'll think about it when there's a girl in front of you half-naked at a club getting her fix.
But that was one line I didn't let myself cross, and it's crazy to me that I'm not even a little bit tempted now.
I've slept with party girls like Kenzie, before Tammy and after Tammy, and I feel like a completely different person now.
The only drug I'm tempted by is Shayla.
The way I feel when things are good between us when I'm privileged enough to feel her and touch her...that's more addicting to me now than any vice.
Getting to hold her the whole night, before we switched partners, was a big part of why I've had fun. Watching her laugh, feeling her body against mine, and seeing her nervousness about trying something new flee…
I want to be a real part of her life.
The revelation slams into me and I blink, stopping in the middle of the sequence.