Karen’s friend, Missy, sighs. “Don’t you just love his dreamy Texas accent?”
Jonesy rolls his eyes while Baylor’s slender brow arches in amusement. I realize that’s one more thing I like about Baylor. She doesn’t get all swoony over my accent. Why these other girls go batty-eyed for my southern drawl, that admittedly I share with millions of other people, is beyond me.
As the night progresses, I find myself doing the very same thing I despised girls doing—staking my claim on Baylor. I possessively drape my arm over her shoulder every time I see a guy glance her way. I realize this is all new to me. Guys checking out the eye candy on my arm never bothered me before. In fact, I welcomed it. Not only did it mean I was with the hottest chicks at the party, it meant that there were plenty of guys to pick up my leftovers when I was done with them.
I catch Baylor noticing a guy admire her from across the room. Even in her casual attire, she still garners as much attention as any one of the surgically-enhanced sorority girls do. She simply smiles weakly at him and then touches my hand that is still claiming her. I lean close and whisper, “Mine.”
She momentarily breaks from the conversation she’s involved in to breathe in my ear, “Yours.” Then she nonchalantly returns to the debate she was participating in over what Ryan Gosling’s best movie is, completely unaware that my dick just sprang to life.
I’ve never wanted anyone to say that word to me before. In the past, it would have sent me running for the hills. But that was then. Before Baylor. She has changed my life. She has changed me.
Baylor excuses herself to use the bathroom. I take the time to catch up with Karen, who is happy to have me to herself for a few minutes.
“So, I found out that Chris is seeing someone,” Karen says.
“Who’s Chris?” I ask, trying to figure out which one of her girlfriends she’s talking about.
“Chris,” she repeats. “You know, Baylor’s Chris.”
Oh, Asswipe. “He’s not Baylor’s Chris,” I tell her. “Quit calling him that.”
“Geez, jealous much, Gav?”
“Whatever,” I say. “So, he’s dating someone, that’s great. But I guess that means your friend is out of luck.”
“Yeah, guess so,” she says. “He didn’t say who he was dating, though. Do you know?”
I shake my head. “Don’t know, don’t care. As long as it keeps him from chasing Bay, I really don’t give a shit.”
When I check my watch and see that plenty of time for Baylor to pee has gone by, I go on a quest to find her, much to Karen’s displeasure.
I come around the corner at the end of the hallway and almost run smack into Angie’s back. She’s talking with Baylor. Angie is tall and she towers over Baylor, her height and her poofy black curls shielding me from Baylor’s sight. Since I’m happy Angie is making an effort to mingle with my girlfriend, I retreat a few steps back around the corner and let them talk. When I hear my name, it’s only human nature to try and move closer to hear what they are saying.
“It may be all fun and games now, but you must know that Gavin couldn’t possibly be that serious about you,” Angie says. “His father would never allow it.”
Baylor laughs. Atta girl.
“Gavin’s a big boy,” she says. “I think he is perfectly capable of choosing who he wants to be with in life.”
“In life?” Angie spits out. “You don’t really think he’s in this for the long haul, do you? You realize that his father may run for president one day. That requires Gavin to follow certain standards about who he can be with. He must marry someone of consequence, and a waitress in daddy’s diner is hardly that.”
Oh, that bitch did not just say that. I hold myself back, remembering what Baylor said earlier about taking care of herself.
“Let me guess . . . someone like Karen is who he should be with?” Baylor asks. “Even though I’m sure she hasn’t worked a day in her life.”
“Well . . . yes,” Angie says. “Her family owns half of Texas. She doesn’t have to lift a finger. Just being who she is makes her the perfect one for him. You could never compete with her, so don’t bother.”
“I wouldn’t even want to try,” Baylor says. I’m amazed that she’s stayed calm throughout their conversation. If she wanted to jump Angie and scratch her eyes out, I would sit back and enjoy the show. “That would make me like you and the rest of your plastic friends,” she says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving. And when you report back to Karen, feel free to tell her that I’m leaving to go fuck Gavin. Again.”
Holy shit!
I want to high-five her for holding her own—a petite shy girl up against Goliath. But I don’t want her to know I was eavesdropping, so I back away and pretend like I was merely walking around the corner.
“Hey darlin’,” I say, pulling her into a seductive embrace and kissing her senseless for Angie’s benefit—okay, and maybe mine. I barely even hear Angie walk off in a huff, because the feel of Bay’s lips under mine and the echo of what she just told Angie she was going to do to me has my head spinning. I break the kiss and pull her behind me, passing by dozens of people without so much as a word. I can’t stop to talk, not with my dick pressing painfully against the fly of my jeans. Just hearing Baylor say fuck is all the foreplay I need.
I take her home and show her over and over exactly how perfect she is for me.
chapter seventeen
I’m running drills with the team as I think about the past few weeks. I never knew life could be like this. I wake up every day feeling like it’s Christmas because I know I’ll get to see Baylor.
Even though it’s been a hectic few weeks with my spring tournament and her dad’s visit, we have still made time to see each other every single day. Finding time for sex is another thing entirely. Just another reason I’m looking forward to next week. Spring Break. Seven whole days of nothing but Baylor and me. No school. No soccer. No roommates. Lots of sex.
Okay, so maybe I felt a little bit guilty telling her dad that I was heading home for break. But I didn’t want him thinking his baby girl was going to shack up with me. Because that’s exactly what she’s going to do. I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to anything so much in my life.
Meeting Bay’s dad was surreal. Another first. I felt like he could look right through me to see my tainted past. Like he had some kind of dad radar. He wasn’t even impressed that I’m the son of a congressman. In his eyes, I’m still not good enough for his daughter. He’s right, I’m not. But nobody else is either, as far as I’m concerned. After eating a few meals with him, however, I felt like he was coming around and I was growing on him a little. Me being a student athlete earned points. I’ll take all the help I can get.
I didn’t miss his faint southern drawl that came out from time to time—evidence of his formative years spent down in my neck of the woods. More points for that. Baylor obviously has a great relationship with her dad, something I’m envious of. You know what they say about girls falling for guys like their dad. Or is it that guys fall for girls like their mom? Either way works for us. Bay is a lot like my mom. And I’m like her dad in the only way that matters—I would do anything for her, just like he would.
Jogging with the guys on our way home from practice, I see someone I want to talk to. I tell my roommates to go ahead without me as I walk towards the Bell Tower where Chris is standing by a tree. From the look he’s giving me, his being here is no chance meeting.
As I approach, we view each other appraisingly. He doesn’t like me. That’s not news to me. I wonder if it’s because he thinks I stole Baylor from him, or if it’s because he’s well aware of my reputation and he doesn’t want me hurting his friend.
“Gavin,” he greets me.
Asswipe. “Chris,” I acknowledge.
“I hear Baylor has decided to stay here over the break,” he says. “I assume this has something to do with you.”
“I suppose it does,” I admit. “Do you have a problem with th
at?”
He shifts uncomfortably, so no matter what words come out of his mouth, I know that he does.
“Not unless you hurt her,” he says with a threatening undertone.
Although he’s clearly got muscles, Chris isn’t a big guy. But the way he’s looking at me right now, I have no doubt that he’d throw down over her.
“Not plannin’ on it,” I say.
“No one ever does,” he quips.
“Why don’t you let me worry about Baylor. You worry about your own girlfriend,” I say.
His brow crinkles as if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I clarify, “I heard you were seeing someone.”
“Me?” he asks, incredulously. “No. Not dating. But even if I was, I’d still worry about Baylor. She’s my friend. She’ll always be my friend. Just as Karen will always be yours.”
Ahhh. There it is. I had wondered if Baylor ever talked to him about her. “What of it?” I ask, my arms coming up to cross my body.
“Oh, nothing,” he says. “Just that you’re hooking up with Baylor over the break, and then a month later you’ll be shacking up with Karen for six weeks.”
The way he says it makes me think that my going to Brazil with Karen is affecting Baylor way more than she lets on. She never brings it up. I simply thought she was okay with it. She has never shown any kind of jealousy whatsoever—something that admittedly bums me out.
“I’m not shacking up with Karen,” I explain. “In fact, we’re staying in separate houses down there. Not that it’s any of your business. And how is that any different than Baylor going back to Maple Creek and working with you every day at the restaurant? Considering that you guys used to date and Karen and I are just friends, I’d say the pendulum swings the other way, wouldn’t you?”
I have a point and he knows it.
“Listen,” I say, “you guys obviously talk, but I don’t know exactly how much she tells you. So let me lay it out there to be clear. I love her.”
Chris takes a step back as if I’d shoved him in the chest. Between that and the look of sheer defeat on his face, I’d say he just all but admitted that he loves her, too.
Fuck.
I woke up with a stupid grin on my face this morning. The same shit-eating grin that has garnered strange glances from my roommates all week. Today is the day my week with Baylor begins.
Let everyone else go off to places like Key West and Cozumel. There’s no way in hell they will have the week I’m going to have. I’m the one who’ll be in goddamn paradise.
I say goodbye to Dean, Tim and Jonesy and then I get started cleaning. I do my best to wash away the distinct smell of guys from every downstairs surface I plan to christen with Baylor. I want her smelling nothing but me when I bury myself in her on the couch, the La-Z-Boy recliner, the kitchen counter. Who knew cleaning the house was capable of producing a boner?
I’ve tried to come up with fun and exciting things to do with her this week. But selfishly, all I really want to do is keep her hidden away in my house.
A text interrupts this very thought.
Baylor: Quick question. I’m packing and need to know how much I’ll need in the way of clothes ;-)
The winky face tells me we just might be on the very same page.
Me: The fewer the better.
Baylor: So, if I don’t need many clothes, should I leave my new lingerie at home?
Instantly hard.
Me: I’ll be there in 30 minutes. Bring it.
Baylor: Haha – see you then.
I spend the next twenty minutes speed cleaning. And maybe whistling.
The doorbell rings. Baylor wraps her naked body in a blanket from the couch and grabs her purse off the nearby table.
“I know you don’t think I’m letting you answer the door that way, darlin’,” I say.
She immediately drops the blanket and picks my shirt up off the floor, pulling it over her head. She bends over to get some cash from her wallet, flashing me a peek of her bare ass that has my recently-used dick springing to life once again.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
She walks towards the door as I whip on my boxer briefs and grab her, picking her up by the waist as I haul her back onto the couch. I pick the blanket up off the floor and wrap it around my middle.
“It’s only the pizza guy,” she says, pouting at me as she rips the blanket off my body.
Okay, two can play at this game. “I don’t care if he’s eighty. No one else gets to see you like this.” I walk away in just my skivvies after I pluck the twenty from her hand, knowing I’ll secretly repay her later. I always do. Either she’s aware that I do this, or she keeps terrible track of her money. She’s smart, so I’d bet that she’s onto me but is simply choosing to pick her battles.
I open the door and the twenty-something guy almost drops our pizza. His jaw falls open as his eyes graze over the half-chub that fills my underwear.
“Sweet Jesus, thanks for the tip,” he says, before I hand him any money. His high suggestive voice alerts me to the fact that he probably wouldn’t have given Baylor a second look.
I smirk as I glance back at Baylor, who is peeking over the back of the couch with a hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“Keep the change,” I say, handing over the twenty. He makes no effort to turn and walk away as I close the door. He simply leans his head to the side to get one last look at me before it completely shuts.
Baylor’s giggles fill my living room as I walk the pizza over to the coffee table. Then she rolls her eyes. “Men and women drool over you Gavin. Aren’t you lucky?”
“Darlin’, there’s only one person I want drooling over me.” I put the box down and sit next to her. “Don’t you know it’s the same for you?”
“What’s the same?”
“That men drool over you,” I say. “They can’t not look at your beautiful face.”
“Huh uh,” she says with rose-colored cheeks.
“Baylor, you don’t even know how gorgeous you are, do you?”
She laughs off my comment and says, “I guess we’d have amazing offspring then, wouldn’t we?”
My body instinctively stiffens at her words. Kids. Although I’ve always known I want them someday, the thought of them scares the hell out of me. But at the same time, I can see visions of an adorable little brown-haired girl laughing and swinging her legs up high between me and Baylor as we pull up on her tiny arms.
“Oh, my God. I didn’t mean . . .” Baylor stumbles over her words as she straddles my lap. “Please forget what I just said,” she begs, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it up and over her head, revealing her bare flesh underneath.
I sigh. Of course I sigh, a naked Baylor is sitting on top of me. She looks at me with regret and I realize she may be misinterpreting what I’m thinking. I open my mouth to explain when she grabs my dick.
I’ll explain later.
She’s working her hand up and down as I watch her tits bounce with her every movement. I think I must be the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.
She’s become a lot more comfortable with her body and my body over the past few days. I look around the dim room and wonder if I’d make her self-conscious if I went down on her right here. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for weeks. I’ve had more than a few fantasies about her squirming under my tongue. But I’ve been hesitant because she’s shown no interest in doing that to me. Some girls don’t like to give head and if Baylor doesn’t, I’m okay with that, but I don’t think I can go another day without tasting her.
She squeals when I suddenly pick her up and reverse our positions. I kneel on the floor before her and spread her legs. I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful. My body burns for her. I lean in to kiss her, rubbing my dick between her legs as I do, coating myself with her desire.
I work my kisses down her neck and across her chest, earning erotic moans as she runs her hands through my hair. My tongue darts out to draw a line down her stomach. Wh
en I reach her soft curls, making my intention clear, I glance up to see her surprised face. I watch her as I put my arms beneath her legs and pull her body to the edge of the couch. When I kiss along her inner thighs, working my way up to the apex, her surprise turns to desire and her eyes dilate and partially close as her head falls back against the cushion.
It’s my green light, so I slowly, carefully spread her folds and put my tongue on her hard bundle of nerves. Her body jerks involuntarily. She gasps, digging her fingers into my shoulders. I smile against her, tasting her for the very first time.
I bury my tongue inside her and delight in the pleasurable moans coming out of her delectable mouth. When I replace my tongue with two fingers and resume sucking on her throbbing clit, she braces a foot on the coffee table behind me and grabs hold of the couch. I can feel her thighs tighten. I know she’s close so I continue the assault with my tongue. I lick, suck and lave her until she grabs my head, holding me to her as she calls out my name, bucking her hips beneath me as her tight walls pulsate against my fingers that are working to draw out every last quiver from her.
Holy shit that was hot. Watching her come apart beneath me is what I live for. She is what I live for. My goddamn heart beats for her. My mind is consumed with thoughts of her. She owns me–my heart, my soul, every fucking breath that comes out of me is hers.
“Wow,” she says, heat creeping up her face. “I’ve been missing out.” She giggles.
“Not anymore,” I tell her. “Not as long as I’m around.”
“Well then, don’t plan on going anywhere, McBride,” she says, making me laugh.
“Not a goddamn chance,” I say.
I lean in to kiss her and she moans at the taste of her own juices. Why is everything she does so hot?
As if confirming the answer to my silent question, she breaks our kiss, holding me close when she breathes into me, “I want to do that to you.”
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