Spring Training

by KB Winters

  “Oh! Yes, please, Grant.”

  He thrust in and out of me.

  The pressure between us built as we both moaned and grit our teeth under the sheer intensity of each stroke. My legs were gripping his hips, hanging on as best as I could as I rode each wave. My eyes rolled back in my head as a second peak rushed up inside me.

  “Come Megan, come all over me, baby,” he said.

  That was all it took for my pussy to clench one last time before reaching the other side as he shot inside me, his cock throbbed and spasmed as he released at the same time.

  After a long moment to allow us both to catch our breaths, he released my bonds and slid the blindfold from my eyes.

  “That was amazing,” I said, my eyes locked on his, the same deep satisfaction mirrored back at me in his dark expression.

  He threw the material aside and gathered me into his arms and we lay together in silence for a long time, drifting off individually into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Eleven — Grant

  I woke up the next morning with Megan tucked up against my chest, her small frame a perfect fit for me. It had been a long time since I’d woken up with a woman in my bed, and I was immediately glad that it was her. She was still asleep, her breathing slow and soft. I ran my fingers down her bare back, running over the small tattoo on her back. I’d seen it as I’d stripped her, but hadn’t stopped to ask her about it, until afterward, when she was in my arms, both of us drained of all energy. The tattoo was a small fairy, with blue hair and wings. Megan had confessed that it had been something of a dare back in high school and that to this day, her father didn’t even know of its existence.

  I smiled as I rubbed my thumb over it, thinking that she was the most perfect mix. She was strong and independent, but also deeply rooted and connected with her family. She was fiery and opinionated, but could also be soft and shy. In our session last night, she’d opened up and stretched herself, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before she could let herself be truly free with me, and my heart thumped faster in anticipation of just how beautiful that moment would be.

  Megan stirred and I trailed my fingertips over her ribs and let my hand rest on her stomach. It was flat but there was a curve and softness to it that I couldn’t get enough of. “Good morning,” I said my voice low as I spoke against her temple.

  She turned, startled, and her eyes went wide for a moment and I could see her mind tumbling to remember everything that had led to her waking up in my bed. “Grant, oh wow.”

  “It was pretty, wow, huh?” I said, smiling down at her. I tilted my hips so that she could feel my firm shaft pressing into the cleft of her perfect ass.

  Megan jolted away and grabbed the sheet up around her bare chest, covering her tits. “I have to go to my internship,” she said, her voice panicked.

  My fingers found her hips and pulled her back towards me. “Not so fast.”

  “Grant, please,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

  My stomach clenched at the thought of her leaving. It had taken so long to get her to let down her walls with me, and last night had been an amazing fruition of all that time that had passed. I wasn’t about to let her slip away from me now. “Megan, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head frantically, as though trying to convince herself more than me. “I’m fine. I just need to get to work.”

  I relaxed my fingers and let her slide away from me as she edged out of the nest of blankets and pillows that surrounded us and shifted her weight until she reached the end of the bed.

  “The bathroom is through that door,” I said, as she looked around my bedroom with a confused expression.

  She gave me a grateful nod and shuffled towards the door I’d indicated, shutting and locking it behind her as soon as she’d stepped inside. I sank back down for a moment, wondering what in the hell had just happened. Something spooked her. I heard water turn on and decided to make myself scarce.

  I left the bedroom and ordered up some breakfast. Anything to get her to stay a little longer.

  A few minutes later, the doorbell buzzed and I retrieved the food from the delivery man. When I got back to the kitchen, Megan was standing there in the same outfit she’d worn last night. Her face was scrubbed clean and her cheeks were extra pink. She scanned the room and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “Just in time.” I set the tray on the island bar and listed the warming lid off to display the meal I’d ordered for us to share. It was served on a dark wooden tray, loaded down with pancakes, eggs, bacon, fruit, yogurt, and two different kinds of juice. I handed her a plate from the cupboard. “Dish up whatever you want. I’ll make some coffee.”

  Megan eyed everything suspiciously and then finally met my gaze before I turned back to the espresso machine that was tucked away behind a cabinet. “I didn’t know you were such a chef,” she said.

  I had to laugh. “Oh no, I’m a hopeless cook, but I’m well trained in the art of ordering room service.”

  “Room service?” She looked around the kitchen. “This is a hotel?”

  “No, but it’s like living in one. All of the amenities. I order in most of my meals. They’re prepared on site with fresh, local ingredients.”

  Megan looked dazed, like she’d stepped into some kind of fairy land. To me, it was normal. If you didn’t cook, how else were you supposed to eat?

  Megan didn’t add anything, but to my relief, she set about loading her plate high with pancakes and eggs and topped it off with a drizzle of warm syrup over everything before diving in whole heartedly. I finished the coffee and set a cup down in front of her before fixing my own plate.

  Everything was delicious, as always, and Megan ate like she’d been starved for a week. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and wondered where on earth she was packing it all away on her tiny frame.

  She leaned back once her plate was cleared and set her hand on her stomach. “Oh my God. I think you’re gonna have to roll me outta here.”

  I laughed and an overwhelming flood of relief washed over me at her easy joke. The ice between us had thawed, and I felt myself relax as I continued to pick at my plate. “Let me call the concierge. I’m sure they have a cart or something we can use.”

  She joined in with my easy laughter. “Excellent. I wonder if you can call in sick to work for overeating pancakes. Like, is that a thing?”

  “As your boss, I would say no, but as a man who wants to keep you here all day, I’d say yes,” I answered, my tone dropping back to a serious note.

  Megan glanced at me and then quickly back at her hands as she started to tap out a mindless rhythm on the granite counter top.

  “I should get going though,” she said, making a point to let her eyes linger on the large wall clock.

  My lip twitched, wanting to press the issue, but then I let it go.

  “So, Monday?” Megan asked.

  “Tonight,” I countered.

  She chewed her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.” I set down my cup of coffee and stilled her hand. “You know what you want, Megan.”

  She hesitated, and I could feel her knees bobbing anxiously. “Tonight?”

  I nodded. “Here.”

  “Okay.”

  For a moment, time was suspended as we both indulged our thoughts in silence. The clock on the wall chimed, breaking the moment, and she slid from the high stool. I followed and led her towards the front door.

  “Oh, one more thing. Here,” I said, reaching past her to the entry table and snatching up a set of keys. I pressed them into her hand, adding, “Your car is waiting for you downstairs.”

  “My car?” She turned over the set of keys, examining the emblem on the silver keychain.

  I couldn’t contain my smile, imagining her face when she walked outside to see a brand new Lexus sitting at the valet for her. “Consider it a bonus.”

  Her face shifted and she thrust the keys back at me. “Wh
at the hell? I’m not for sale, Grant. Fuck…”

  “God, Megan. I know you’re not a whore.” I sighed and pushed her hand back. “This is a bonus for the sketches you did. Like I told you, those designs are worth big money. You earned the car.”

  Her fingers wrapped around the keys possessively, but her face was still a mix of emotions, as though she was still trying to decide if I was telling the truth.

  “I’m serious,” I said. “Ask Richard, down in IT. He got a speedboat two years ago after he caught and destroyed a hacker that was trying to steal our data. I reward those who contribute value to the company.”

  “All right, I’ll ask him.” She looked down at the keys again and I saw a small smile flit across her face.

  I wrapped an arm around her as we finished the short walk to the door. “Your car is safe in the underground lot back at the office if you really insist on driving that beater around.”

  “Hey!” She said, giving me a playful shove. “That’s my baby!”

  I laughed. “Tell you what, let’s trade in this thing, I mean really, who needs a brand new convertible? So tacky,” I said, plucking the keys from her hands. “If you’re happy with your baby.”

  She watched the keys as I dangled them in front of her in a tantalizing swing. “Convertible?”

  “Uh huh, and not one of those pussy ones either. The thing is a beast. I almost decided to keep it for myself when I picked it up.”

  She grabbed the keys out of my hands. “Thank you. Maybe we can have a street race sometime.”

  “You never know where the night will take us,” I replied, thoughts of her in tiny little shorts with a checkered flag certainly got my motor in gear. I let my hand slowly trail down her body, taking in every inch, before dropping my hand and opening the door for her.

  Megan’s body trembled as my fingers left her body and although the door was wide open, she didn’t seem to be in such a hurry anymore.

  I leaned down and kissed her, and it took on a life of its own as our bodies melded together, remembering every second of pleasure from the night before. When I released her, she was breathless.

  “Tonight,” I reminded her, before she slipped out of the condo and started down the hall.

  Chapter Twelve — Megan

  My chances of being late to work went from maybe, to definitely, as soon as I saw the gleaming machine that Grant had given to me. It was pulled up outside as soon as I stepped out into the sunlight. It was a beautiful machine and even more fun to drive than I could have imagined. I’d never been one to pay much attention to cars and engine stats, but as soon as I got behind the wheel of the beast, it was like a new side of my personality took over, and I drove it like a bat outta hell.

  Eventually, I pointed it in the direction of home so that I could get ready to cross town back to New Leaf Design Studio, where I was sure I would have to buy Roxanne a coffee to keep her from complaining too much about my tardiness.

  I pulled up along the curb in front of my house and saw Robbie and Phillip on the front porch, each with a beer can in their hands. Oh, good. At least they’re spending their weekend doing something productive. I sighed and killed the engine.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Robbie demanded as soon as I got out of the car.

  “Holy shit, sis!” Phillip jogged across the patch of yard in front of the house and ran his hand over the length of the sleek black exterior.

  “Hey! Don’t spill that shit on it, God knows the cheap stuff you two guzzle, will probably strip the paint right off,” I scolded, as Phillips beer can tipped precariously as he admired the car.

  “Right.” Phillip set the can on the curb and peeked inside the car, using his hands to shield the glare off the tinted windows. “Seriously, though, sis. Who’s is this?”

  “It’s mine,” I beamed with pride. I’d never been given a bonus or award before, and once I finally accepted that it wasn’t a present for spending the night with Grant, I instantly found a deep rooted source of pride in the car.

  Robbie and Phillip both snapped around to look at me. “What?” They demanded in unison.

  I held up the keys. “She’s mine. A bonus at work.”

  Both of them twisted their faces. “At the card shop?” Phillip asked.

  I rolled my eyes and walked to the front door. “First of all, I don’t work at a card shop. I intern at a design studio, where we print business cards. But no, this is from my design job with Timeless Timepieces.”

  “What? Since when?” Phillip asked, looking absolutely shocked.

  I didn’t bother answering, I had no time to stand and explain it to them. I pushed open the front door, and called back, “Don’t touch it!” Before shutting the front door and going upstairs. I showered and changed in record time, stopping only long enough to swipe some mascara on my lashes and a coat of my signature maroon lipstick on, before bolting back downstairs.

  “Megan? That had better be you!”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. It was my dad, calling from the kitchen. I pivoted on my heel and went to pop my head around the corner. “It’s me. I gotta go though.”

  “Like hell!” he snapped. He appeared from the pantry, waving an unopened box of pasta at me. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick! I had half the neighborhood out looking for you last night when the cops said they couldn’t file a report for another day.”

  “The cops?” My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. “Daddy…”

  “Yes! The cops. Megan, you were gone for two days. Just poof!”

  I fidgeted in place, shifting my weight back and forth between my feet. “I was working and then…went out and stayed with a…friend.” God, it sounded so weird, to refer to Grant as a friend. But, I couldn’t tell my dad what had really happened. “I’m sorry that I didn’t call, but God, Dad, you didn’t have to call the cops!”

  “No, don’t you dare! You don’t get to say what’s overreacting until you have your own child and they pull some stunt like this.”

  “Dad, it wasn’t a stunt. I just got busy. You do realize I’m twenty-two years old, right? Most people my age don’t have to report to their parents where they are twenty-four, seven.”

  My dad’s face turned a dark shade of red. “You railed on Robbie for being irresponsible and not caring about the family when he wrecked the car, but then you turn around and run away for a night with no calls, texts, nothing to let any of us know you were safe!” My dad threw his hands up in the air and turned away from me, as though he couldn’t even believe the conversation we were having.

  “Daddy, I’m sorry.” I wanted to argue further, but I shut my mouth.

  “Maybe I put too much pressure on you, but you’ve always been the glue that’s held this family together. I’ve come to rely on that and trust you to put the family first.”

  I broke, unable to contain my frustration any longer. “So, that means that I’m not allowed to have a life outside these four walls? I can’t have friends, or a boyfriend?”

  “Boyfriend?”

  Shit. That had been the exact wrong thing to say. Throwing that word out there was like unpinning an emotional grenade.

  “I’m just saying, I’m an adult, I get to make my own choices. I’m sorry for scaring you, but you have to learn to trust me. I know how to take care of myself!”

  He leaned on the counter and stared at me. “That’s what all girls your age think, but if that’s true, then why do so many of them end up raped or kidnapped? You think you’re different than everyone else? You’re not immune.”

  I took a deep breath. “I have to go. I have my internship, and then I have a work thing. I won’t be home till late.”

  Without waiting for his reply, I left the kitchen and went outside where my two brothers were both still drooling over my new car. “What the hell is that?” My dad’s voice boomed over my shoulder, having apparently followed me down the hall.

  “I know! Right? That’s what I said,” Robbie chimed in.

 
“It’s my new car. I’m late. I’ll explain later,” I said, not waiting another second before piling behind the driver’s seat and tearing away from the house. My eyes were filled with tears which made it hard to see the road in front of me. I couldn’t untangle one emotion from the next. Everything sat in my stomach like a heavy dinner—anger, hurt, regret, frustration, and sadness. I was finally getting somewhere with my life, all of my hard work was paying off and no one cared. My friends—if I ever told them—would just be jealous and further alienated. My family didn’t even bother to say “good job” or one nice thing. It was more of an interrogation than anything else. Grant was the only one who really understood, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I still hadn’t figure out what it was he wanted with me—and after last night, his intentions were more mixed up than ever before.

  I didn’t have time to even start unpacking it all before I arrived at the studio. I parked my new car a few blocks from the shop and ran to get there, although it was already nearly an hour past the time I was supposed to have been there. I pushed in the doors, already saying, “I’m sorry, Roxanne, I had some car trouble.”

  Which was, completely true.

  When I looked up, I saw that Roxanne wasn’t alone, Terry, the owner of the studio was standing at her side and both of them were wearing stern faces.

  Shit.

  * * * *

  What the hell was I supposed to do now? After a long and highly uncomfortable meeting with Terry, it was decided that I would be allowed to finish my internship on the condition that I wasn’t even one minute late for the rest of the term. Otherwise, she would void my internship hours and give me a failing grade. If that happened, I would have to stay a student for at least another term which would delay my graduation—again.

  And that wasn’t an option.

  Of all the things on my plate, I had trouble trying to figure out where to trim. I couldn’t drop any of my classes, and with finals coming up, I would likely need to add even more study time if I had a prayer of passing everything. My internship hours were to remain the same, but I couldn’t be late ever again or risk losing it all, which meant I needed to leave extra early before each shift. Then, there was the painting I was rushing to complete for the art gallery showing—I was promised three spots, and I planned to fill each one of them. I’d campaigned for months to get into the show, and there was no way I was backing off without a fight. My social life was practically non-existent. I hadn’t heard from Max since running into him in class, which either meant he’d gotten busy again, or he’d chosen to take Jeanine and Taylor’s side in the argument. My family life was a mess and would need some repairing. I couldn’t give that up.