The Perfect Stroke

Home > Other > The Perfect Stroke > Page 6
The Perfect Stroke Page 6

by Jordan Marie


  CC:

  And if I am?

  I read her text, feeling a thrill run through my body. My hand practically shakes as pictures of CC naked on silk sheets flashes through my mind.

  Me:

  I need you to not move for about thirty minutes.

  CC:

  Why thirty minutes?

  Me:

  That’s how long it will take me to get there.

  CC:

  Go back to your business dinner.

  You’re interrupting my alone time with Bob.

  Me:

  Bob?

  I feel a stab of jealousy that I try to ignore.

  CC:

  Battery operated boyfriend.

  Me:

  Don’t you dare! Your orgasms are mine.

  CC:

  Sorry. I’m afraid the phone signal is going out.

  “Grayson? Did you hear me?” Cammie asks, and I reluctantly put my phone down.

  “I’m sorry, dove. My manager wanted my opinion on some contracts he got in today.” My eyes automatically go to the wall across from me and the large clock that proclaims I’ve only been here for an hour. How long do I have to stay before I can make an excuse to leave? If I don’t get out of here soon, I may go crazy. “What was it you were saying?”

  “I was asking if you’d like to go out with father and I sailing.”

  “Sailing?” I’m pretty sure Kentucky is nowhere near the ocean.

  “A hobby of mine. I have a couple of sailboats docked in the Kentucky Lake. I’m going to take them out this coming Sunday and stretch the sails. Hell of a way to relax,” Riverton says, and I nod. The last thing I want to do is go sailing with Riverton and his daughter. I can hear Seth in my head demanding I agree, though.

  “Sounds fun. I’d love to join in,” I lie through my teeth.

  “How grand! I can hardly wait. Sailing is one of my favorite pastimes. Isn’t it marvelous how much we have in common, Grayson?” Cammie asks.

  “Amazing,” I tell her, hoping the sarcastic intent is somehow hidden enough it goes over her and Riverton’s heads.

  “I think I’m going to leave you two kids alone and find my bed. I’m not as young as I used to be,” Riverton says, standing up. He reaches out his hand to me, but I’m feeling my stomach drop to the bottom. The last thing I want to be is alone with Cammie. I shake his hand, clearing my throat.

  “I was hoping we could discuss the upcoming tour, sir.”

  “I’m much too tired for business tonight, son. We’ll talk about it this weekend and then we’ll take the boat out.”

  “Sounds good,” I tell him, inside calling him an asshole. It’s not that I’m wanting to leave Kentucky. With CC here, I’m finding the last thing I want to do right now is leave. It’s just I don’t like being dicked around, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Riverton is doing. I’m not sure why he would want someone like me for his daughter. Fuck, if I was a father, I’d be the last type of man I’d be searching out for her.

  “You want to retire out into the garden?” Cammie asks.

  I have to restrain myself from groaning. Retire?

  “Actually, I should be going. I have a conference call early in the morning.”

  “Oh, no! Gray, don’t leave.”

  “Again, I’m sorry, but I…”

  “Well, I demand you spend a few minutes out in the garden with me. Why, we barely got any time alone with daddy here monopolizing all your time.”

  “Well, there are things we need to discuss. He is the reason I’m here, after all.”

  “Just think. If not for that, we would have never met. It’s funny sometimes, how fate works,” she says, taking my hand and pulling me out the French doors. Hell, she’s talking about fate. Everything in me is screaming to run away fast and hard.

  She leads me to a bench outside surrounded by perfectly sculpted hedges, rose bushes, and other flowers of which I have no idea what they are. It’s pretty, I suppose. Her hand is wrapped so fucking tight around mine, I’m pretty sure that the blood supply is cut off.

  “I can’t tell you how much fun I had tonight, Grayson. I just love being around you. You know how you meet someone and something just clicks and you instantly feel comfortable around that person?”

  I listen to her words and an image of CC comes to mind instantly. I smile before I can stop myself. “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” I tell her without thinking.

  “I knew it!” she squeals, and then before I can think over what we’ve talked about, her lips are on mine and her tongue is plunging into my mouth. Her taste is wrong. The feel of her in my arms is wrong. I don’t push her away, but I do nothing to deepen the kiss. She pulls away with a satisfied look on her face and I have a bad feeling that this is going to mean trouble.

  Shit.

  “Have I told you that you sure clean up good, Cooper?” Gray tells me when I open the door.

  He’s standing there dressed in jeans and a t-shirt holding a bottle of wine and some flowers, and he’s wearing a grin. It’s been four days since our conversation at the garage. He hasn’t missed calling or texting, and I’m starting to look forward to hearing from him. All of that spells trouble, but I’m ignoring the signs. I’m charging ahead because for the first time in my life, I see something in front of me that I want to keep. I know I can’t. That’s just the way life is, and there’s no way someone like Grayson Lucas, golf star extraordinaire, will want me for anything long term. Still, for as long as this lasts, I’m going to take what’s there and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

  “Cooper? What happened to sweet lips?” I ask him, opening the door wider so he can come inside. He shrugs away my question as I close the door behind him. I turn around to walk back towards the kitchen when he wraps his arms around me. He holds me close, the flowers and wine bracing against my back.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  I realize I’m dealing with a player, and those words are probably just another line designed to get my pants off of me, but the thing is… it’s a very good line. Plus, I really want him to get my pants off.

  “Scruffy is a good look for you,” I tell him, moving my hand along the five o’clock shadow on his face. Any look is good on him. I don’t think you can make him look bad—at least, physically.

  “Can I have my kiss now?” he asks. Last night during our phone conversation, I told him he could have a kiss if he could remember what I was wearing the night we met. I really didn’t think he could, but he nailed it, all the way down to the sea foam green, lacy silk panties and bra I had been wearing. I reach up to give him a peck on his cheek.

  “There.”

  “Um… no. That is not the kiss we discussed.”

  “It’s not?” I ask as innocently as I can pull it off.

  “Definitely not. There was no tongue action in that.”

  “I don’t remember tongue action being discussed,” I tell him with a grin, breaking away. I take the wine and flowers from him and lead him into the kitchen.

  I have a small house. It was Banger’s and the only true home I’ve ever known. It’s an open concept with the living room and kitchen as one large space. It’s too small for a dining area, so there’s a breakfast bar. It’s two small bedrooms and a bath. I’m sure it is nothing like what Grayson is used to, but I don’t sense him checking it out and finding it lacking, so I relax a little.

  “Tongue action was implicitly implied.”

  “Say that ten times really fast.”

  “Why, Cooper, are you trying to get me to show off how well my tongue works?”

  “I think I can remember,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I hope burgers and fries are okay. Honestly, it was a long day at the garage and I was too beat to worry about dinner.”

  “Burgers and fries are my favorite,” he says, and though he’s probably lying, I relax that much more.

  “Thank you for the flowers and the wine. You didn’t have to,” I tell him, putting them in a vase and runn
ing tap water into it.

  “I did it with an ulterior motive,” he says, and I jump because he’s right behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back into him. His face slides against mine, the stubble on his face scratching softly against my neck.

  “What would that be?” I ask, my voice breathless.

  “You. I want you,” he says, his lips following the pulse point in my neck.

  “Gray…” I protest, but even I know it sounds weak.

  “God, I’ve been thinking of nothing but you for days,” he groans, his hands moving under my shirt, sliding slowly up my stomach, teasing the warm skin there until he cups my breasts. I want to give in. All week I said I was going to, but now…

  “Gray, I don’t think we should do this,” I tell him, forcing myself to pull away. Once his hands leave me, I feel strangely deprived. God, I’m a bigger mess than even I knew.

  “What’s going on, Cooper?”

  “It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready to just jump into bed with you.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a bed. The floor, the wall—hell, the kitchen counter works for me.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  “I don’t see the problem. We’ve already slept together, did you forget?”

  “No. That was different.”

  “I don’t see how. Besides, you can’t deny that we’ve been talking all week, and I think it was pretty clear from our conversations where this was headed. So why the sudden hot and cold, Cooper?”

  His words make me feel like I’m on trial, which sucks. He wants full honesty? Fine.

  “It was different before because there was nothing but one night of sex.”

  “Two,” he corrects me.

  “Whatever. The point was it was a space out of time where I let go of my better judgment and just took something I wanted.”

  “Me.”

  “Yes, you.”

  “So go ahead and take me now. I’m okay with being used, buttercup.”

  “That’s just it. I know you now. I know way too much about you now.”

  “Wait, let me get this straight. Before, you could fuck me because you didn’t know me. Now, you can’t because we know each other?”

  “It’s not that simple, Gray. I mean…”

  “You realize you have this shit backwards, right? Most women insist on knowing a man before they spread their legs for him.”

  Heat rises in my face and I want to slap him for trying to make me feel embarrassed over making the decision to have a one-night stand. Sanctimonious asshole.

  “That’s the problem, Grayson Lucas. Entirely too many women have known you. I just don’t want to be one of the long list of numbers.”

  His face goes hard and he looks at me so intently, I want to take a step back. “What the fuck was this week about if you were never planning on sleeping with me? Because I got to tell you, I’m a little over the whole come-over-and-watch-movies-and-hold-hands phase in my life.”

  “Were you ever in that phase?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  “Answer the question, Cooper.”

  “I do want you. I just… I guess I just need time. You have a long history, Gray. I don’t think I trust that I’m not just…”

  “What if you are? How will you know? Or how will I, if we don’t see what’s between us? Jesus, Cooper, you overthink shit way too much.”

  “You have a sex tape on the internet, Gray,” I remind him, my stomach curling in distaste.

  “Again, it was before I met you, and I knew nothing about the making of it. My lawyers had it taken down.”

  “It’s still there.”

  “You know the drill, Cooper. Once it’s on the internet, it’s always there. If you show me the site, I’ll report it. It’s all I can do.”

  “Gray…”

  “CC,” he starts, using my nickname. Strangely enough, I already miss him calling me Cooper. “I like you. I’m pretty sure you like me, but I’m not going to fight your fears every time we get together just to…”

  “I’m not afraid,” I lie, because I’m kind of terrified.

  “Your doubts, then.”

  “What is this, Gray?” I ask him, needing it defined. I want to know what he’s thinking, where he sees this going. I want to have no surprises.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t do great in relationships. I don’t know how to…” How do I explain to him that I don’t trust people? How do I tell him that I’ve never had a real relationship? He really would think I’m a freak if I told him exactly how much I feel out of my depth right now.

  “Why do we have to label anything? One day at a time, Cooper,” he says, his face going soft as he walks towards me. “Let’s just see what happens.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask him unnecessarily when he comes up to me and cups the side of my face, pulling my lips to his.

  “Kissing you and then, with any luck, kissing you some more.”

  “Until…”

  “Until we’re not kissing and we’re doing so much more.”

  “Aren’t you hungry? I have the food ready to fix, and…” I’m rattling on nervously, but he stops me with just a faint touch of our lips.

  “I’m hungry, but not for food.”

  “Gray…”

  “Are you with me?”

  I look into his eyes, finding them so deep and intense. Am I? Why am I so nervous? I’ve withstood bigger storms in my life than Gray Lucas, right? If this all blows up, then it will be my shame alone and I’ll just go on. If it doesn’t, then could what started off as a one-night stand become something… more?

  “I’m with you,” I whisper, making my decision and throwing caution out the door. Banger would either kill me or be proud.

  “Thank fuck,” he groans, putting his hands under my ass and pulling me up his body. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his shoulders.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you to tell me which way is your bedroom, and if you don’t hurry, then I’m going to fuck you against the wall because that’s how much I need you right now.”

  “First door on your left down the hall,” I tell him, grinning.

  I guess food will have to wait.

  My patience is almost at an end and I don’t want to scare her by acting like a Neanderthal, but there’s no way I can stop it. I’m usually smooth with women, but CC is unlike any woman I’ve ever known. Hell, her effect on me is unlike any before her. She lights a fire inside my blood and whenever she’s near, I can feel it burning.

  I devour her lips as we make it to the door of her room. I kick open her door and it slams against the inside wall, bounces back enough that I have to push against it again as we cross the threshold. The bed is just about five feet in front of me, but that’s five feet too much. I turn and push her against the wall. For a second I gain my sanity enough to worry I’ve hurt her, but she’s busy pulling my shirt up my body. I alternate bracing her body with one hand and letting the wall support her while I get the damn thing off, grinning as she throws the shirt to the floor.

  “So much better,” she breathes. “God, I love your body.”

  “It’s all the swinging and driving balls into holes,” I tell her.

  She lightly runs her nails on the middle of my chest, playing with the fine line of hair I have there, then stops to look up at me. She’s laughing, her eyes shining, her lips in a full smile that pull apart as the laughter bursts out.

  “Maybe I’m starting to gain a new appreciation for golf.”

  “Hold tight baby and I’ll make sure you do.”

  Her hands move up my body slowly and link behind my neck. “I’m holding,” she whispers right before she brings her lips back to mine. I capture them, sucking on them, moaning at the burst of flavor that hits my tongue—strawberries from her lip gloss, and a sweetness in flavor that reminds me of sugar and candy. It’s a taste I associate solely with CC now, a taste that h
as become my one addiction.

  A taste I have to get more of.

  Her tongue wraps around mine, mating with it and feeling so perfect that I groan. Never. Never has a woman got to me the way that CC continually does. That means something, I’m sure, but right now, I don’t have the energy or the spare brain cells to think about it.

  “We need you out of these damned clothes,” I mutter when we break away and I finally drag air back into my lungs. She grins at me, her hands going to unbutton her pants.

  “Let me down,” she breathes. My fingers tighten into her ass, automatically fighting the command. I don’t want her out of my arms. Where CC is concerned, I find I react very much like a caveman. “Gray,” she whimpers, her hips thrusting against me. Her need is heavy in her voice. “I need to feel my skin against yours.” Her words somehow seep through the fog in my brain, the same brain that demands I take her but is too lust-filled to work out the logistics.

  I gather her one last time against my body, angling and tilting her so that her pussy is aligned perfectly with my dick and then I grind into her. Even through our clothes, I know she can feel how hard and ready I am. I want her to know exactly what she’s doing to me. Her hands have moved and I can feel her nails bite into my back as she struggles to remain tightly pressed against me—not wanting to let go—just like me. Finally, she takes control and pushes away from me and I’m forced to set her on the floor. My hands feel empty and I’m tempted to keep one hand on her as she undresses, except I need my own clothes out of the way. I immediately go to work unbuttoning my pants and pushing them from my body. I kick them somewhere, not really giving a fuck. I’m just thankful I had the foresight to take off my shoes when I first got here.

  When I look back up, CC has already undressed except for her bra and panties: little pieces of dark blue silk that cling to her body and highlight the creamy white skin perfectly. I don’t think I took the time to admire her body the first time we were together. That was a haze of lust and the buzz of alcohol. This is different. This time the lust is still here, but I’m stone cold sober and the truth is: I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. Everything about her is perfect from the way her hips curve out into an hourglass figure to the perfect rise of her breasts, which move with every hard breath she takes and overfilling that silky bra. Perfect and mine to play with.

 

‹ Prev