Stroke It (A Standalone Sports Romance)

by Ivy Jordan

  It was obvious that he hadn’t had anyone do anything for him in a long time. “I want you to Skype your kids tonight and take the time to plan your trip,” I encouraged. He nodded, his eyes filling back with tears of happiness and overwhelming thanks.

  “I hate that you’ve wasted your entire Saturday on me,” he sighed.

  “Wasted? No. You’re stuck with me old man,” I teased, pulling him in for a tight hug.

  I felt good as I left knowing that Milton would be in good spirits while I was gone, and at least have everything he needed to care for himself. I wished someone done that for my dad. I wished I had.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Elijah

  I woke up next to Taylor, her body barely covered by the hotel’s thin sheet. I leaned over, kissing her bare shoulder softly as I took in the sweet vanilla scent of her skin. “Good morning,” she mumbled, her face still buried in the pillow. I laughed as she rolled towards me, sleep in her eyes as they stretched open, and her hair piled high on the pillow beneath her.

  “Good morning,” I whispered, unable to resist kissing her blushed cheek. “Are you ready for this?” I asked, smiling as she slammed her hands over her face.

  “Oh wow, that’s today?” she acted surprised, as if she’d forgotten.

  I slid out of the bed, pulling the sheet from her nude body with one swift jerk. Damn, she was beautiful, every inch of her smooth, manicured, and curved to perfection.

  It had been a long weekend, one we’d spent at the hotel instead of her place for a change. It was nice, all except the hateful looks the bartender gave me when she realized she wasn’t ever going to end up with my room key. Maybe a few months ago, but not now. Something changed in me, a shift of dramatic proportions, one Isaac and Maddie would be proud of, if they only knew.

  “You better get dressed. We have to leave before the sun gets too hot,” I warned. It took everything I had not to pounce back onto that mattress and take her in my arms as she stretched out her body, her breasts tight and full on her chest, and her bush so neatly trimmed between her legs that it practically begged me to dive in.

  Taylor finally pulled herself from the bed, grabbed a towel, and twirled it, teasing me with the twisted end, snapping in my direction like a whip. “Let’s go; shower time,” she ordered playfully.

  After an entire weekend sharing a hotel room, we no longer needed approval for showering with the other. It came naturally, and I loved every second of it. I laughed, grabbing the end of the towel as it snapped towards me, and jerked it from her hand. I stood there, twirling it into a tight point as she let out a squeal. “You better run,” I warned, snapping the towel in her direction as she ran towards the bathroom. I knew I was nowhere near actually hitting her ass cheek with the towel, but it was fun to watch her panic with the fear of not knowing for sure.

  After our shower, I was struggling with keeping my erection under control. Her sensual hands lathering soap all over my body, and her nails gently grazing my scalp as she shampooed the short hairs on my head were enough to drive me wild. “I need to stop by the house,” she announced as she slid into her jeans, hiding her beautiful flesh from my view.

  “Okay,” I agreed, feeling relief for my poor cock that had been teased beyond belief.

  Taylor looked adorable in her light flannel shirt with a bright red tank top underneath. I swear that woman had gone out and bought everything red from the racks after I’d said it was my favorite color. I didn’t mind. I loved the way she looked, and no matter what color she wore, I knew it was going to be tough being near her without throwing her down and ravishing her, even in the damp terrain.

  The bartender was glaring at us as we exited the elevator, our hands intertwined, and our shoulders grazing each other’s. I noticed Taylor looking towards the woman and her glare, and then turning back to me with a wide smirk. “Is there a reason she should be so jealous?” she teased.

  “She’s had her eye on me a while now, being the only single, non-dad guest in the hotel,” I laughed.

  “Part of that isn’t true,” Taylor smiled up at me with her beautiful bright eyes.

  “Well, I was single when I got here,” I corrected myself.

  “I was talking about the ‘non-dad’ part,” she said softly, pulling herself closer to my side as we walked out the front door.

  I gulped, sickened by the fact I’d forgotten that. “So, none of its true anymore,” I played it off, even though my stomach rolled with anxiety. What was I going to do about that?

  “So, you’re not single anymore?” Taylor asked as I helped her into the car.

  My heart raced. What had I done? Fuck.

  “You know what I mean,” I laughed it off, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  Her eyes narrowing on me, and her lips curling into a tight, partial smile told me she didn’t know what I meant. I wasn’t sure I did either. I wasn’t single, but I wasn’t really taken either. I still planned on leaving as soon as the house was done, and once I decided what to do about Bailey. Even if I did decide to be in her life, it was going to have to be on my terms. I had a life in Miami. I couldn’t be expected to just give all that up and move here to be a full-time dad, could I?

  Taylor ran into her house and exited a couple moments later with her backpack she’d had ready for our trip. “What’s all in there?” I asked, curious as to what she’d thing we needed.

  “Essentials,” she said sweetly, grinning in my direction.

  Essentials? So, makeup, a curling iron, maybe some nail polish in a new shade? I chuckled as she shoved it into the back seat, obviously not willing to tell me what essentials meant.

  I parked across from the beach in the public parking lot, was ready to walk to Taylor’s side of the car to let her out like I usually did, but she was already out. Her backpack slid onto her back, and she tossed on a hat, pulling her tight ponytail through the back. She looked prepared. We’d see if she truly was or not soon. I wasn’t sure I was prepared. I knew what we were getting ready to endure, and the only reason I looked forward to it was doing it with Taylor.

  Taylor proved to be a lot tougher than I’d expected. She pulled herself up the mountain side without so much as a nudge of help from me and was at least ten paces ahead of me when we reached the top. “Do you need a break?” she asked, stopping to look back at me.

  “Only if you do,” I boasted, really hoping she needed one.

  “I’m good. We need to get there before it gets any hotter,” she stated, turning back to continue her journey.

  Wow.

  She finally started to show signs of wearing down as she dredged through the marshy terrain to the next upward climb. “How much farther?” she asked, her voice sounding winded and tired.

  “We’re almost there,” I assured her. “Just over this next climb, then maybe a quarter mile to the cabin from there.”

  I had taken the lead a few hundred feet back, showing her which direction to go once there were more options than just up. “Let me help you,” I offered, placing my hand on her ass and boosting her up the jagged rock. She reached the top, pulling herself up to the surface with a grunt. My dick twitched at the passionate growl she made.

  “Here we are,” I announced, pushing the brush in front of to the side to open up the cleared field.

  “Holy shit,” she exclaimed, breathless and her face fire red from the heat.

  “I can’t believe you made it,” Xander boasted, heading towards us as we headed towards his cabin.

  I couldn’t believe we’d made it either. I was impressed by Taylor, more so than I already was. She continued to amaze me.

  Xander welcomed us inside, and the sweet breeze of cool air was welcomed by my hot skin. I tore off the boots Xander had given me before, leaving them by the door. “They keep ya dry?” he asked. I nodded. They, in fact, kept my feet completely dry.

  Taylor pulled her boots off, and then her wet socks. Her sexy toes painted red were all wrinkled from the dampness of her footwear. �
�I’ll have to get her a pair for the next trip,” I noted.

  “Next time? You think she’ll do this trip again?” Xander laughed.

  “She did better than me,” I boasted.

  “Let me get us a drink,” Xander offered, moving into the kitchen.

  Taylor carried her backpack over to the couch and sat beside me. I was still curious as to what was inside. What does she consider essentials?

  Xander returned with a glass of wine for Taylor, red and sweet just like she liked, and two glasses of whiskey for us guys. “I have something for you,” she said, unzipping her mysteriously packed bag.

  I watched with just as much eagerness as Xander as she reached inside. First, she pulled out a bottle of red, sweet wine, setting it on the couch beside her. “Just in case you didn’t have any on hand,” she chuckled and continued to dig.

  Finally, she pulled out a leather bound folder. She handed it to Xander.

  His eyes widened as he opened it, staring at the contents without speaking. Finally, he let out a long, deep sigh. “Thank you,” he smiled at Taylor fondly.

  He handed the folder to me and stretched across the couch to give Taylor a well-deserved squeeze.

  I stared at the picture of Tommy and Xander, remembering the day it was taken. Tommy had a black eye, and Xander a busted lip from a bar fight the night before. They’d become quick friends after Tommy leaped into the fight that didn’t concern him. Xander had mouthed off to someone, and that someone stood to be taller than any of us, and wider than the three of us combined. I’d never laughed so hard as I did that night when they showed back up at the barracks, bruised, sore, and drunker than skunks. They were arm in arm, and after that night, that’s how they stayed. A part of me was a little jealous of their friendship, of the night I’d missed out on, but I loved seeing Tommy happy, and I had plenty of nights like that in the years that followed, many with Tommy, and of course, plenty with Xander.

  “He told me the story,” Taylor giggled, which of course got Xander and I riled up to tell our versions.

  Two bottles of wine later, and a full bottle of whiskey guzzled, we were all talked out, and ready to crash. Xander made up the couch with a fluffy pillow and soft quilt for Taylor, and then tossed me a rolled up sleeping bag for the floor. “See ya in the morning,” he waved his hand behind his head as he headed into his room, stumbling, drunk, and happily reliving the good old days with friends.

  I’d planned on talking to Xander about Kellie, and Bailey, but never found the right time. I knew he’d be able to help me make the right decision. He knew everything there was to know about my dad, my childhood, and my thoughts on starting a family.

  I spread out the sleeping bag on the floor next to the couch. Taylor snuggled under the quilt and looked too peaceful to disturb. She was already falling asleep, her eyes closing, and sweet little noises escaping her throat. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I lay down and closed my eyes. Just minutes later, Taylor's arm wrapped around me and she snuggled into my back. I rolled over, taking her in my arms, and believing I was the luckiest man in the entire world.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Taylor

  Elijah was lifted up on his side, resting his head in his hand as my eyes opened. “How long have you been watching me sleep?” I whispered, smiling in his direction.

  His eyes penetrated my soul when they filled with that emotion, that unreadable, but beautiful emotion. “Just a few minutes,” he replied. I knew that was a lie.

  “You’re a creeper,” I teased and then giggled softly. I didn’t want to wake Xander, especially after he’d drunk so much the night before. I figured he’d sleep a while, and that was fine by me. I’d spend some alone time with Elijah, and then get up to help prepare breakfast.

  “I can’t help it; you’re just so fuckin’ beautiful,” Elijah whispered, his grin growing wildly as I stared into his eyes. He leaned down, kissing me passionately on the mouth. My body ached from his touch, and arched towards him, his erection pressing into my leg.

  “Good morning,” Xander announced himself as he walked through the front door. He held a basket, filled with mangoes, pineapples, pomegranates, and papayas. “You hungry?” he smiled.

  My belly was already grumbling, but I knew it was partly craving what Elijah and I had just started on the floor. “I am,” I exclaimed, lifting up from the floor. I headed into the kitchen, following Xander, amazed by all the fruit he’d collected right outside his front door. “You have everything you need here, don’t ya?” I asked, washing the fruit in the sink as he handed it to me.

  “Just about,” he agreed, flashing a warm smile in my direction. There was something in his eyes I recognized: loneliness, similar to that of Milton’s. I wondered why he didn’t want to find a woman, someone to share his life, and possibly start a family with. He was a handsome man, rugged good looks with shaggy blond hair, a goatee, and muscles that rippled down his body, covered in smooth, tan skin.

  “I’ve got some eggs in the fridge,” Xander motioned to the modern black side-by-side. This place was amazing, Elijah hadn’t exaggerated.

  I grabbed the eggs from the small basket and began whipping them with some cream until they were smooth and well-blended. Elijah entered the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and watching Xander and I work together preparing the meal. “You need a woman out here; you’re getting too domesticated,” Elijah teased his pal.

  “Domesticated? Boy, I’ll show you how domesticated I am when we go catch lunch,” Xander pushed back, a gleam in his eye that proved he was happy to be teased.

  I cooked the eggs while Xander cooked some veggies he’d pulled from his garden: mushrooms, potatoes, and green peppers. It smelled delicious as he dumped the mixture into my eggs, smiling at me as I stirred everything together. He had a bowl of fresh fruit already prepared, which he handed to Elijah and told him to make himself useful. I couldn’t help but laugh at their teasing. It was like having two brothers in the room. It felt good.

  “Are these wild chicken eggs?” Elijah asked, pushing the yellow substance around his plate like a finicky two-year-old.

  Xander laughed. “Yes, but mine aren’t wild. I feed them oats, fruits, corn, and grains,” he stated proudly.

  “What’s wrong with wild chicken eggs?” I asked. I’d never eaten them, even though we had several take a home in our yard when I was a girl. My dad would shoo them away, throwing away any eggs that he found.

  “Those birds are rats with wings,” Elijah moaned.

  “I have a system; my eggs are fresh,” Xander assured his squeamish pal.

  I was starving, and I didn’t care where the eggs had come from; they smelled delicious. I dug in, shoving a large bite in my mouth. “Oh wow, that’s good,” I exclaimed, staring at Elijah, motioning him to try them.

  I could tell he didn’t want to, but Xander called him a pussy, and he’d already seen me try, so he had no choice. He shoved a bite into his mouth, and then his eyes widened as he tasted the flavor. “Not bad,” he admitted.

  We didn’t see too many of the wild hens in town, but Xander’s place was swarming with them, so he could have as many eggs as he wanted. “I mark the ones I don’t take, so I know what’s fresh and what isn’t,” he explained after Elijah had declared he liked the feathered rat eggs.

  After breakfast, I was ready to ask about Tommy while I had the two guys together, figuring two memories were better than one. I sat down on the couch after getting dressed and slid my hand into Elijah’s.

  “I’ve got some news,” Elijah announced, taking my opening for starting the conversation.

  “What’s that?” Xander asked, looking up from his spear he held, sharpening it with a smooth rock.

  “Remember Kellie?” he asked.

  I knew what was about to happen, and I was grateful that he was finally talking about it and hopeful that Xander would help him make the right decision. I knew what the right decision should be, but I couldn’t tell Elijah what to do, but maybe Xan
der could.

  “I remember: the prom queen with a bad attitude,” Xander described her without showing any signs of emotion, and little interest.

  “Apparently, that night we hooked up, there was a… I… shit, I have a kid, she’s three,” Elijah blurted out.

  Xander didn’t show much surprise, making me wonder if he’d already known about the kid. Elijah said he seemed to know everything about everyone, and being on this small island, it would make sense that he’d already figured it out. “So, what are you gonna’ do?” Xander asked.

  It was a question I’d been wondering as well, but was too afraid to come right out and ask so directly.

  Elijah let out a sigh, a deep, exhausted one filled with irritation and stress. “She told me she didn’t want me to see the little girl until I decide if I want to be in her life. But, you know how what my old man was like; what kind of role model was that? What business do I have screwing this kid’s life up?” Elijah questioned.

  Xander laughed. “We don’t get to choose our parents, and they don’t get to choose us. But, I can tell ya, knowing a parent chose not to be in our life is far worse than any mistakes they make in raising us,” Xander stated profoundly.

  I knew that hit a nerve with Elijah. His mother had left, vanished without a trace. His father never spoke of her, and his memory of her, if ever there was one, didn’t exist. She chose not to be a parent. That hurt him; I knew it did. “I just don’t want to mess some kid’s life up,” Elijah added.

  Xander rolled his eyes and continued sharpening his spear. “You can make all the excuses you want. But, you have to man up, step up, and let that kid know she has a father, one that will support her, help her, and hopefully, love her,” Xander said without lifting his eyes from his spear.

  It was obvious the respect the two men had for one another, neither getting upset at the other’s remarks. Elijah sighed. “But, Kellie fuckin’ Kamaka?” Elijah moaned.

  “You fucked her, not me,” Xander laughed. “Sorry, no disrespect,” he lifted his eyes to me as he spoke.