“Well thanks,” he said, sounding a little shy all of a sudden.
Certain Kyran “The Rebel” Black would come back soon, she relaxed against the seat. With his prodding, she told him about her JV team. Unsure how long they’d been driving, she saw him ease the Escalade off the highway, toward Silver Springs, Maryland.
“You live in Maryland?” she asked.
“Yeah, didn’t like my condo in Alexandria, too small,” he said.
“Wow, I live in Baltimore. Maybe I should have driven so you wouldn’t have to go back to the stadium tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning is hours away, don’t worry about it.”
He downshifted, slowing at a yield sign and turning down a street that led to a gated community. Anna was surprised. She expected a monstrosity of a high rise. It was a neighborhood.
“Thought you lived in a condo,” she commented.
“These are condos. They’re single units.”
“Gotcha,” she said.
The condos were modified Cape Cods, each having a front and backyard, a driveway and a single-car garage. They looked homey, trendy and self-contained. Kyran drove the SUV to a gate, slipped a plastic card into a slot and waved to the security guard standing in the gatehouse. As soon as his card activated, the massive gate slid open, parting just enough for one vehicle to ease through.
“Nice,” she said, glad for the protection.
The security guard recognized the Escalade and Kyran had rolled down his window enough for the guy to see him.
“Hey, Phil,” he greeted the guard. “Keep an eye on things tonight. Might have a reporter try to get through, don’t let anyone in claiming to be my guest.”
“You got it, Mr. Black,” Phil said. “Good game tonight, heard it on the radio.”
“Thanks,” Kyran said, driving on.
Anna started to worry again. This reporter was trouble, she sensed it.
“What kind of stories has Brenda Jamison printed about you, Kyran?”
A few lanes down, he turned right, slowing as he approached the third condo on the left. Easing into his drive, he punched a button and the garage door slid upward.
“Gossip, mostly,” he answered when they were inside the surprisingly big garage, the door closing them in as he cut the engine.
“You said that before. I’ve read a lot of stories about you and your love life, why are hers different?”
“Because Brenda’s vindictive,” he admitted. “When I first signed with the Griffins she ruined a relationship I’d been in.”
“You mean someone you were seeing before you moved here?”
“Yeah, it was Seville Davis.”
“The supermodel, that Seville Davis, you mean, holy cow!” Anna squeaked, slapping her palm against her mouth. Was that her voice? She didn’t squeak when she talked, until now.
“That’d be the one,” Kyran said. “Don’t worry. She’s out of the picture.”
“But…she’s an underwear model!” Seville modeled lingerie. Her centerfolds sold thousands of thongs and beautiful satin bras and made men order the catalogues.
Anna wore nice, comfortable panties, bikini cut, but still panties. Not those fancy bits of lace and satin that cost a small fortune.
A little panicked wondering how she ended up going home with Kyran Black for a night of sex, Anna grabbed for the door. Escape was now her only thought.
“Anna, don’t do that,” Kyran said, his hand coming out of nowhere to catch her elbow and stop her.
“Just getting out,” she remarked.
“You look like you’re about to run for the nearest exit.” Holding tight, he sat there in his SUV, waiting for her to make the next move.
“This is crazy, crazy! Do you hear me?” Refusing to cry all of a sudden, her hormones working overtime, she took a deep breath.
“A little, but it’ll be okay, come on, don’t be scared to follow this night through.” His grip eased up a little.
“What did she do, Brenda, I mean? What did she do to ruin things between you and Seville Davis?” Anna wasn’t sure why she asked. She still needed to know.
“Took pictures of me with another woman,” Kyran said.
“In bed with another woman, you mean?”
“Hell no, I don’t mess around like that when I’m dating someone.” Sitting back some, he looked over at her, his honesty plain to see. “It was a girlfriend of Ricky’s. She’d come to see him when he wasn’t expecting her.”
“He’s the one who cheated on his girl,” she guessed.
“Afraid so,” he answered. “Look, honestly, I don’t remember her name. She was in college and upset. Ricky asked me to take her to the airport.”
“That’s all?”
“Yep,” Kyran insisted. “I drove her there, made sure she got something to eat, put her on a plane back home. Pictures of us together showed up in the papers the next day.”
“Wait, I remember that. There were photos of you with a college co-ed in a few of those gossip magazines. The pictures were fuzzy. Headlines read that you were robbing the cradle.” It had bothered her then because her ex-fiancé had taken up with a pretty grad student about that time.
“Only thing I did with that girl is give her a hug goodbye, which she initiated. I couldn’t push her away, she was crying,” Kyran commented.
“That’s the picture I saw.”
“So did Seville, who wasn’t one to accept being second fiddle.”
“I bet.” Anna relaxed, believing Kyran didn’t do anything other than help a friend of Ricky Weather’s.
“Since then, Brenda Jamison has taken it upon herself to write false stories about my love life, cashing on in my rebel image.”
“Let’s hope your agent gets her to stop,” Anna said, feeling him stare at her, his hand still on her elbow.
“You coming in or are we going to do it in the backseat again?”
She groaned. As much as she’d loved what they did on the way home, she couldn’t repeat the performance. She was too old to contort herself into a pretzel like that.
“Come inside, let’s get comfortable.” Kyran got out of the Escalade, making a beeline for the passenger side. Anna didn’t stand a chance of opening the door herself. Before she knew it he had the door open, her seatbelt released.
The gentleman in him guided her to the door and right on inside. The condo was decorated with surprising good taste. While the colors were beige, neutral and masculine, the floor was warm with thick brown carpeting in the hall and sunken great room.
“Take a look around. I’m going to put this in the laundry,” he said, showing his gym bag and going off toward the kitchen. They’d left her things in the back of the Escalade with the Griffin costume. She did have her purse and she set it on a side table near the door leading to the garage.
The great room was huge. The first thing she saw was a mahogany fireplace. Complete with a massive leather sofa, recliner and entertainment center, it was perfect for Kyran. From where she stood, it looked like he had every video game system there was, along with a fancy high-definition DVD player and a huge flat-screen television.
Off to the right was a fully stocked bar. Made of the same rich mahogany of the entertainment center and fireplace, the bar was polished. Three wood and brass bar chairs sat in the front and shelves of glasses were in the back. A mirror resided between the shelves, reflecting her image back at her.
Drawn forward, she stopped in the middle of the room. Oh god, she was a mess! Her hair was a riot of curls, her skin reddened in some places from what they’d done already. The football jersey was half on, half off her shoulders and her jeans were undone. She’d forgotten to button her jeans. Where her panties were, she had no idea.
Through the mirror she saw Kyran return, his eyes on her.
“I need to get my hair straightened,” she decided, turning away from her reflection.
“Why, it’s gorgeous?”
“It’s all frizzy,” she said.
“Curly, not frizzy,” he amended.
“You just want to get into my pants again.”
“Actually, I intend to get you out of your pants again.” Laughing softly, he edged her farther into the great room.
Feeling a little awkward, Anna scrubbed her hands over her upper arms. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“‘Course, follow me,” he said.
She did, trailing after him down a short hall to a loft. The master bedroom sat high above the great room. Guarded by a four-foot wall and wooden staircase, the bedroom was big, much like Kyran. He was six foot six, he needed the space. An oak vaulted ceiling complemented the four poster king-sized bed. The thick mattress rested on a fat box spring. The bed was so big it needed steps to climb up into it. Steps!
“That’s one big bed,” she said, flushing.
“I’m not a small man.”
“Nope, you’re not,” she agreed.
He was tall, muscled and hung. How his cock fit inside her was a miracle she’d think about in the morning. She’d be lucky to walk normally, she was certain.
“Relax, bathroom’s right through there,” he said, pointing to a door. “Take your time. If you need something, you’ll see the closet to the right of the bathroom.”
“Thanks.”
Really needing to go, she almost ran to the doorway. As he’d said, she passed the closet on the way to the bathroom beyond. Like everything else in his home, the bath was breathtaking. Marbled floors enhanced the giant tiled tub that looked like it could hold three of Kyran. Next to the tub, a see-through glass shower had more faucets and showerheads than any one person needed, but they looked divine. The primary one looked to be eight inches wide.
Eight inches, much like Kyran. She was way out of her depth, but there was no turning back. They’d already had sex twice. Not to mention that he’d made her orgasm three times before that. She could take the rest of the night and leave in the morning as planned.
Refusing to look at herself in the mirror yet, Anna used the toilet, finding a box of wet bath tissues nearby. She cleaned herself up, flushed and went to the sink. Washing her hands, she scrubbed, going so far as to scrub her arms and wet her face. It felt so good, she scrubbed again.
“Anna, you okay in there?” Kyran called out, knocking.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She found a hand towel, dried off and chucked it into a hamper.
“Open the door.” He tried to open it, but she’d locked it.
Going to the door, she flipped the lock. “It’s your place, come on in.”
“Sure you’re okay?” Not surprisingly, he came up real close, bridging her personal space, and she let him.
She didn’t feel threatened when he was close. She liked it, welcomed his strength and his youth. Some parts of her were sore, she could admit that. But she didn’t want him to know. She wanted to meet him halfway and give a lot back.
“I’m okay,” she said, letting him take her face into his palms.
Big and rough, his palms were a little scratchy, his touch unforgettable. Caressing his thumbs along her jaw, he brought her up to her toes, kissing her softly. Unlike their last kiss, he didn’t storm her defenses. He simply kissed her, lips to lips, tongue to tongue when she opened her mouth, taking him in. The mirror, his fame, her looks, all of it faded behind the rightness of this moment, of this kiss.
Her knees literally felt weak, her toes curled and yet he still kissed her, making it a seduction. It was the sweetest thing he’d done for her so far.
Finally, he lifted his head, smiling down at her. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said, staring into her eyes, seeing her flaws. He had to see them.
“I’m not beautiful.”
“We disagree on that.” Stepping back, he dropped his hands to her shoulders. “And it’s the last time you’ll degrade yourself in front of me.”
“Just being honest, Kyran. Don’t you see the lines here?” she asked, pointing to the marks near her mouth, the ones by her eyes.
“I see you, Anna.” His fingers tightened, reassuring her, his soft smile unwavering, confident. Her heart tripped violently in her chest, her womb clenching at his nearness. Knowing he was warm, that he was there, was enough to ease her nerves for a while.
“Want something to drink or eat, Anna? I’m kind of hungry.”
Actually, she was starved. “I could eat.”
“Well all right then. Let’s go.” Kyran took her hand, tugging her with him.
Soon enough they were downstairs in the kitchen. Steel appliances greeted them, his kitchen something a chef would envy. “Wow, this is a great kitchen.”
“I like to cook when I can,” he told her.
“Really, me too,” she said.
“Let’s see what we’ve got in the fridge,” he suggested.
Kyran opened the double doors. The shelves were stuffed with groceries. “Know what, I’ve got leftover fried chicken that I made yesterday for lunch. How about I warm that up? Might be some frozen French fries in the freezer.”
“Chicken would be great. Don’t bother with the fries.” Falling a little in love with him over his ability to cook her single most favorite food, which he couldn’t even know about, she offered to help.
Together, they pulled out the plastic container of chicken, lined a tray with foil and stuck it in one of the side-by-side ovens. He set the oven to warm the chicken slowly, to prevent it from drying out.
“Want a drink while we wait?” he offered.
“Sure.” More at ease, she followed him to the living area where the bar was. “If you’ve got soda, that’d be fine.”
“Coming right up,” Kyran said.
Behind the bar, he pulled down two big glasses, threw in some ice from a freezer behind the bar and then filled the glasses from a soda fountain. “I don’t drink during the season. Caffeine’s my primary vice if I’m not doing a workout or at practice.”
“Wise move,” she commented. “I tell my students not to drink soda or heavily caffeinated energy drinks if they’re going to be practicing.”
“Here you are, ladies first, want a cherry?”
“Yes, please.” Joining him at the bar, she climbed onto one of the big brass, wooden and cushioned bar chairs. King chairs, she’d heard them called before.
He looked so good to her, real, not some athletic stud with piranhas chasing him. Not wanting to think about that, she waited while he plopped two cherries into their glasses.
“Cherry soda,” he offered, pushing her glass across the bar like a bartender.
“Didn’t you used to be a bartender?”
“Yeah, I’d had a scholarship for Louisiana University, but I liked working when I could. Job kept me focused on the big picture, not just football. My two best friends in college, Nick and Phalen, used to hang out most of the time.” He’d also earned a degree before turning pro, something she admired. He was confident, educated and fit, making him seem older than he was.
She liked him a lot. And she was falling more in love by the second. On dangerous ground, she grabbed up her drink, taking a long sip before touching the cold glass to her cheek. Realizing he watched her, she’d given something away that she probably shouldn’t have. Nervously, she took the long-stemmed cherry from the glass and stuck it in her mouth to distract him.
His eyes narrowed, zooming in on the cherry. She didn’t devour it, she savored it, sucking the juice, then nipping at it slowly ’til it was gone. Remembering a little trick she’d learned when she was younger, she knotted the stem with her tongue and teeth. Revealing the result, she laughed harder when his glass shook, soda sloshing all over the bar.
“Do that for me now,” he suddenly demanded, his voice Southern and deep and sexy. Just like that, she was turned-on, wet and soaking her jeans.
“Do what?” Like she didn’t know what he meant, she tossed the knotted cherry stem to the bar.
“Use that mouth on my cock,” he amended.
“Chicken’s in the oven.”
&
nbsp; “It’ll wait.” He came around the bar, not stopping ’til he was standing in front of her.
“Kyran, what are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to get on your knees,” he told her, unbuttoning his tented fly.
Before the last button was undone, Anna slid off the bar chair, going to her knees. Glad the floor was padded with thick, lush carpet, she reached up and parted his fly.
They were both fully clothed, yet she found it sexy. Feeling naughty and loving it, she pushed his jeans to his hips. His cock fell out, slapping her chin. He was already wet with pre-cum at the tip. Like the cherry, she wanted to savor him.
Kyran shifted his feet just wide enough to keep his thighs braced, his jeans in place where she’d put them. “Work me out, sugar.”
There was an edge of command to his voice. She found she liked it, and let him place his hands behind her head. Where she might have felt vulnerable with anyone else, she knew this was safe. And his hands were gentle, his fingers massaging her skull.
Anna leaned in, touching her tongue to the drop of salty fluid. Swallowing, she licked again. Taking in the thickened ridge of his glans, she savored him like an ice cream cone. His whole body stiffened, his hips pushing toward her. His hands combed her hair and he hummed in pleasure. He smelled male, aroused, tasted like salt, a little cum and clean skin. He must have washed himself while she’d been in the bathroom upstairs.
Touched that he’d do that, she licked again, swirling around the satin smooth, plum-shaped head, licking slow and easy, hopefully driving him wild.
“Yeah, that’s good,” he murmured, tightening his fingers fractionally. “Open up, take me deeper.” His left hand dropped to her jaw, cupping her cheek as his thumb pressed into her bottom lip. “As much as you can take, take it.”
“You’re so beautiful here, Kyran,” she praised him, kissed his cock. Licking again, she lingered where she knew it would feel best. Parting her lips with the push of his thumb, she took the head into her mouth.
Sucking the helmet, she put her tongue to work. Like she did with the cherry, she licked and sucked, repeating it and taking him deeper with his urging. His jeans were down to his thighs, his legs spread to keep them in place. Her right hand circled his cock, holding it steady so she could enjoy him with her mouth. Ringing his girth with her fingers, she tightened and twisted as much as she could, bobbing her head and gently scratching his testicles with her other hand.
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