by Sierra Hill
Whoa. Don’t even go there right now. Concentrate. Ham and cheese. Spatula. Tomato soup.
Cade sees my incredulous look, and probably reads the naughty thoughts all over my face, and his lips quirk up into that smug smile again because he knows he has me.
“Wouldn’t you like to escort my gramps to one of my games, Ainsley?” He asks in an oh-so-innocent tone. “And I know I’d sure like it if you came to watch me play.”
His tone reflects something not so innocent then and I can feel my cheeks flush. Damn him. Doesn’t he realize that all I’ve been able to think about the last five days is how hot and jittery he left me last Saturday night? I’ve been keyed up ever since and unable to banish the lustful responses he awoke in me. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal.
Honestly, I wanted nothing more than to sleep with him that night. And I had secretly hoped that he’d put the moves on me so I didn’t have a choice. But he didn’t go back on his promise and was a complete gentleman, instead. Which pissed me off and made me happy at the same time. Spending time alone with him in his bedroom had my body shaking with need. I don’t think I’d ever experienced that over another boy before.
To make matters worse, I had imagined my hands running over every single muscle in his chest, his back, his arms. He’s like a living, breathing Hercules. Big and strong. And beautiful. I loved sifting my fingers through his soft mop of curls. And the rough abrasion of his short beard against my lips and neck when he kissed me. It lit me up in areas of my body that haven’t gotten action for years.
Even when I said I had go, there was no pleading for me to stay. No promises that if I just laid back down he’d keep his hands to himself. He simply stood up, took my hand in his and walked me out to the front door where the Uber was waiting for me. And then kissed me senseless until the driver honked at us to get a move on.
Oh, an that. My heart clenches tightly even now to think about how he called and paid for the ride on my behalf. He wouldn’t accept my money. Said it was the least he could do to make sure I got home safe, since he was in no state to drive.
Thoughtful. Sweet. And oh-so-gorgeous.
So tell me…how the hell am I supposed to say no to his request? His asking me to take Simon to watch him play basketball.
I’m just about to flip the grilled cheese sandwich over when I feel a very tall, hard body press against me from behind. Cade’s hands land on my hips, his breath hot on my ear.
“You’re looking especially gorgeous today, Ainsley.”
His voice is like molten honey. Thick and rich. I want him to spread it all over my body and cocoon me in a prison of smooth silk.
I chuckle humorlessly as I look down at what I’m wearing. I’m in bright blue scrubs and my hair is pulled back in its usual pony tail. Nothing sexy or enticing, but I did spend a bit of time on my make-up since I knew I’d be seeing Cade.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Look at me…I’m a frumpy-looking caregiver,” I deadpan, stepping to the side and presenting my attire to him with an eye roll and a flap of my hand. “I probably smell like urine and bleach. If you think that’s hot, you’re nuts.”
Cade looks over into the TV room and concludes that everyone, including his grandfather, is now watching a documentary and no one is paying us any attention.
“I want to kiss you so bad right now.” His admission turns me on.
“Cade, I’m working.” I say half-heartedly, hoping he won’t care about that and do it anyway. To hell with the consequences of being seen.
He just gives me his killer grin and shrugs.
“So there’s a rule that says you can’t kiss on the job?”
I give him a snort of laughter because that’s stupid. I’m sure there’s nothing in my Employee Handbook about kissing while on duty. But I do take my role seriously and can’t let my attention wander when I’m responsible for my patients.
“You’re dumb,” I lamely throw out at him. “Now go away, before I burn dinner.”
He steps back to give me room and leans against the counter to watch me. His eyes roam over me, driven by lust and desire.
“I saw you checking me out earlier. Did you enjoy the show?”
Oh God. How embarrassing. I’m sure he’s used to girls on campus gawking at his body all the time, and no doubt that he relishes in the fact that he is hotter than hell. But he’s put me on the spot and I don’t know how to respond.
Do I admit I liked it? Do I tell him that if I could, right this minute, I’d let my hands run up the length of his body and I’d use my tongue to lick up and down his totally-sculpted torso? Or do I act nonchalant about it, like if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all?
I decide to go with unimpressed. “Sure. It was okay.”
His jaw locks tight, lips pinched and eyes narrow on me. “Just okay, huh? That’s not what your drooling mouth told me when I caught you gawking.”
“Gawking? I was not!” Of course I was gawking. “You are so full of yourself, Number 23. You think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?” Damn, you really are. And I want to unwrap you.
“I don’t think it. I know it, baby. And I also know what I saw. So even if you don’t admit, I know the truth. You want me.” His finger taps me on the nose with a little thump.
I place the sandwiches on the dinner plates and begin to fill the bowls of soup as a text message notification comes through on Cade’s phone. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pull out his phone from his shorts pocket and look at it. Then he quickly puts it away.
“I gotta get going. Meeting up with the guys for a workout tonight.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.” I hope he doesn’t hear the disappointment in my voice. I’m not sure what I expected, but I was hoping he’d be around for a little longer. My shift runs until ten tonight and it’s only six o’clock right now. We barely had any time to talk and I can feel a small bloom of resentment in my heart. I’m a bit crestfallen.
Cade helps gather up the tray that I’ve just piled up with all the dinner plates and begins walking it to the dining area. I admire his fine ass with a frown as he walks ahead of me.
“You’re checking me out again, aren’t you?”
“Oh my God!” I was absolutely checking him out. “I’m just making sure you don’t spill, idiot. Geez, you have such an ego.”
Once we have everyone settled for dinner, Adriane comes back in and tells me to go take a break. I think she’s done a pretty good job deducing that Cade and I are…well, I don’t know what we are. Friends? Friends that make out? Whatever we are, she sees something between us. I give her a grateful smile and run to the restroom while Cade says goodbye to his grandfather.
We meet at the front door and step out onto the porch, and before I can even get the door closed behind me, Cade cups my cheeks and captures my mouth in an urgent, blistering kiss. Two quick kisses in succession follow and then I melt into him like an ice cube in the Sahara. His body isn’t the only thing that’s strong. Cade’s lips are soft and full, yet strong in their command of my own mouth. He’s demanding and thoroughly captivating.
And then it’s over much too soon. Cade pulls away from me, leaving me bereft and wanting more. I want more of him. I don’t want him to leave.
“I’ll be back here to pick you up at ten.”
Once again, Cade says and does something that I’m totally unprepared for. He just keeps throwing me for loops and doing the opposite of what I expect of him.
I cock my head to the side and meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”
His soft chuckle against my cheek tickles.
“It means I’m picking you up after your shift so you don’t have to ride the bus home.”
“Cade -” I warn, but he doesn’t allow me a chance to refuse.
“No argument, Locker. I want to spend more time with you. Is that a problem for you?”
Yes. No…Yes, it is a problem. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize that he’s almost too good to be
true. He’s thoughtful, a gentleman, and extremely easy on the eyes. And he’s like a human defibulator, because every time I’m around him he jumpstarts my heart.
So yeah, it is a huge problem that he’s all these things and I’m unequivocally attracted to him to the point of no return.
What am I supposed to say to that? No Cade. Don’t pick me up. I’d rather ride the Metro with all the seedy elements of Phoenix sitting right next to me, reeking of alcohol and their own shit or trying to grope me.
“No, it’s a not a problem. But it’s pretty presumptuous, don’t you think? I’ve been fine on my own well before I met you…I don’t need a chauffeur service.” I say indignantly, but I fail at making my point when he just smiles down at me with a knowing grin.
Cade’s lips brush my ear and sends shivers of excitement down my spine. He smells so good. A spicy intoxication of cologne with a hint of spearmint.
“Personally, I think it’s more selfish than presumptuous because I need to see you again tonight. Alone. And I want to keep kissing you. And my hands want to touch you.” As he says the words, his hands slide behind my back and rest just above my butt. If I wiggled just a little bit, his hands would fall to cover my ass. That wouldn’t be a bad thing.
And then all I can do is agree with him. Because I need to see him again, too. He’s very persuasive.
“Then I guess I’ll see you later.”
12
Cade
“Dude, what’s your rush? I thought we were all going out to Hungry Howie’s tonight for wings and pizza?”
Carver is towel drying his hair, buck naked in the middle of the locker room where we’re all getting showered and changed after our workout. Although practices haven’t started yet for the season, the team unofficially practices together three nights a week. Afterwards, we usually go out for some form of nourishment and entertainment.
But tonight, I’m going to hang with Ainsley.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s not something I ever thought I’d do. I actually chased her. I fucking sent her daily texts – just random, stupid shit over the last week to let her know she was on my mind. And then I called her the other night while I was lying in bed wondering what she was doing. It makes me sound like a pussy, but I don’t care.
The problem is that we don’t get to see each other much. I’m a busy guy, with school and basketball, but Ainsley’s schedule is fucking insane. I don’t know how she manages to always remain positive. Nothing seems to razzle her – especially not at the nursing home. I know I couldn’t handle working there. She just has this way about her. Kind. Compassionate. Sweet.
She hasn’t told me all that much about her family, but I’ve learned it’s just her sister, her mom and Ainsley. When I told her about my twin sisters, she flipped her shit. Thought that was the coolest thing, which I found amusing. Although I’m fairly close to both of them, more so with Kylah than Kady, I do still find them slightly annoying at times. Even Ainsley admitted that while she has a strong relationship with her sister, Anika, she’s dealing with the disgruntled teen attitude right now.
Even with that, she still seems completely devoted to her. It makes me like her all the more.
In the time that we have spent and gotten to know each other, there are still things I feel that has avoided talking about. She glosses over things about her life, speaking only in vague terms about her childhood. Like she has these dark places she’s hiding and doesn’t want me to know about.
But then again, I can’t begrudge her since I haven’t shared anything about my problems with the law or the reason for visiting my gramps so often. Part of me feels a twinge of guilt, but it’s not exactly public knowledge at this point. Coach Welby promised it would be kept confidential, so unless someone digs into the public records of my arrest and court appearance, folks will stay none the wiser.
The only ones who know right now out of my friends are Carver and Lance. And I trust them to know they won’t say anything. The rest of my team will know soon enough about my suspension when I don’t get to play the first three games of the pre-season. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
For now, it’s business as usual. Except for my plans tonight. Ainsley is my plan for the night. And although I don’t want it to appear that I’m rushing things, I definitely want more of her. Whether that leads to sex or not, I’m up for anything she’ll let me do to her and with her. And my imagination is vast.
I try to steer my thoughts clear of getting Ainsley naked right now, considering I’m in a locker room of nude teammates. Pulling my gym shorts over my boxer briefs and slipping a T-shirt over my head, I reply to Carver about my skipping out on the night’s activities.
“Sorry, bro. I got plans with someone a helluva lot prettier than you tonight.”
Carver scoffs. “Doubtful, ‘cause we all know I’m the prettiest of everyone.” He poses in the body builder flex and kisses his right bicep. Good Lord, he’s a vain dude.
“This happen to be that hot chick you had over last weekend? Goddamn, bro. She’s got a pair of tits I’d like to fuck when you’re done with her.”
A flash of angry jealously floods my body and I whip my wet towel at his naked ass.
“Shut your fucking hole, douchewad,” I scowl as he yelps from the slap of the cold material. “You’re not getting anywhere near her tits. So don’t even think about it.”
I’m in no way interested in discussing my feelings toward Ainsley with Carver. At least not yet. The truth is, I don’t really know what we have going on. Are we dating? A couple?
Defined relationships have never been my thing. I’ve always been too focused on partying and playing basketball to get serious with any one chick. But I have no reservations about seeing more of Ainsley. In fact, I crave it. It’s an adrenaline rush, like the feeling I get when I’m dribbling down the court, my opponents surrounding me as I make the perfect jump shot.
Carver’s sarcasm can sometimes be annoying.
“Oooh…someone’s jealous over a chick. This must be serious, Griff,” he shakes his dangling dick in front of my face as I lean over the bench to tie my shoes. “She got you by the gonads, bro? Have a magic pussy or something?” He laughs uncontrollably, making a few of the other guys turn their heads to see what’s going on.
I push at his stomach so he stumbles against the locker. “Fuck you, Edwards. It’s none of your fucking business. Now shut the fuck up.”
Carver’s easy-going attitude makes it hard to ever ruffle his feathers. He just snickers and struts back over to his gym bag and pulls out a pair of boxers, completely disregarding my outburst.
He’s a great friend, and the biggest player I’ve ever known, both on and off the court. But he has a big mouth that’s always yapping and giving shit. Typically, I can handle it, ‘cause that’s what guys do. We talk smack about each other, always looking for ways to rile one other up. On the court it’s expected. It pumps you up, drives the competitor in you. Gives you the shot of adrenaline that’s needed when you’re playing.
When it comes to Ainsley, though, I’m a little less forgiving. It actually bothers me that he’s talking about her like that. Sure, I’ve thought about her tits and her pussy. I’m a horny-ass motherfucker. But I’m not going to degrade her in front of my pals. That’s not how I roll.
Pulling the strap of my gym bag over my shoulder, I turn to head out of the locker room, giving everyone a wave goodbye. When Carver says “Toodles, twat-eater,” I give him the finger and walk out the door with a grin.
I have about an hour before I have to pick up Ainsley, so I decide to run over to mom’s and maybe eat whatever leftovers she has in the fridge and talk with her a little bit. I haven’t seen her since my court hearing. In fact, I’ve avoided her calls and texts over the last two weeks, with the exception of my birthday and a few yes or no replies.
I’m a shitty son and she doesn’t deserve that treatment. It’s bad enough that s
he was walked all over and out on by my dad. So I hope me showing up unannounced will remind her that I do love her.
I pull into the driveway of my childhood home in Keirland, a suburb of Scottsdale. My dad is a prominent criminal attorney, which means I grew up in a wealthy, elite neighborhood. He was rarely ever home, always working or traveling, leaving my mom to dote on and raise the kids. She was loving, nurturing, and only occasionally would she smother me.
But I love her, regardless.
And she is a helluva a good cook. Although we could afford a housekeeper and cook, she always made our breakfasts, lunches and dinners on her own when she could. When I was in school, my friends and I would come home from basketball practice and scarf down the Snickerdoodle cookies (my favorite) and baked lemon bars she always had waiting for us. Everyone loved my mom.
It isn’t just her skills in the home, though, that make her special. She is smart and extremely kind, unlike my friends’ moms who were always gossiping about their neighbors, or trying to one-up each other with their clothes, and cars, and beauty regimens. She spends time volunteering at local charities and community events, and was always on the PTA and school booster organizations. In my mind, she is supermom.
She’s also extremely intuitive and would always provide helpful advice to my boyhood problems - once she coaxed them out of me, of course. Part of me wonders if that’s why I found my way home tonight. Maybe I secretly craved spilling my guts out about what I’m feeling for Ainsley. I need her advice because I feel like I’m in the deep end of an ocean and don’t know how to swim.
“Hey mom!” I call out, stepping into the well-lit kitchen from the garage door. “Are you home?”
The smell of lasagna permeates the air and I check out the counter for food as I drop my bag of dirty clothes on the floor and round the corner. We have one of those great room kitchen floor plans where the room is divided by a ten-foot island in the middle. To the left is a large dining room with an eight-piece dining set, and to the right a couch and two chairs circling the stone fireplace.