The List

by Alice Ward

  “Let it go where?”

  Zoe moved over to the couch and sat beside me. “Oh dear heavens, you’ve got a lot to learn. Good thing my older brothers both played in college. I, my dear baseball virgin, will be your wizard.”

  It actually helped a great deal to have her spell everything out to me. When Kane hit the next one, she explained that it was a foul ball and why.

  Crack!

  She didn’t have to explain that that sound was a good thing. The screaming crowd said it all. “Why is he just jogging around the bases?”

  Zoe grinned at me. “Because he hit a home run. See the other two guys running in too?” I nodded. I had wondered about that but had been too embarrassed to ask. “Because Kane hit a homer and they were already on bases, they get to score too. That gives the Beasts three runs off Kane’s hit, so now they are ahead nine to four.”

  My heart pounded when the camera zoomed in on Kane’s face as he made it home. He looked so happy. So handsome. And I so remembered kissing that lush mouth. The camera stayed on him even when he entered the dugout, high-fiving his teammates as he went.

  “He really is hot,” Zoe said and turned to me. “Why all the sudden interest?”

  I sighed and pulled the pillow to my chest before telling her of the day’s events.

  By the time I was finished, and she’d asked a million questions, the game was over, and the Beasts had won, breaking their losing streak.

  When I crawled into bed, my phone pinged. I giggled like a young girl when Kane’s name appeared on the screen.

  Kane: Ur officially my good luck charm.

  Me: I don’t think you need luck, that hit was awesome!

  Kane: U watched the game?

  Me: Yep. First one ever. My roomie had to explain things to me, so you’ll have to be patient with my learning curve.

  Kane: I have tons of patience.

  My stomach twisted, deep and low.

  Me: You do? It seems to me that you’re a bit impetuous.

  Kane: Sometimes. There is a time to take things slow and a time to speed things up.

  Oh dear heavens. I pressed my thighs together and felt the dampness there. Rolling over, I stuffed a small pillow under my pelvis and ground down into it, releasing some of the pressure. The strategy backfired immediately, and I groaned, grinding again.

  Me: How do you know which speed to go?

  Kane: Instinct and feeling. Connection.

  Me: I’m glad we connected. Thank you again.

  Kane: Stop thanking me. I’m glad too. When can I see you again?

  I rolled onto my back, disappointed by what I had to type next.

  Me: Not until the gala ☹ You’ll be on the road, then I’m booked every evening when you get back. There is some local dog show that weekend, so it’s busier than usual. But I’ll watch the game.

  Kane: You will? All of them? You know we play every day, right?

  I actually didn’t know that but decided I didn’t care.

  Me: Yes, all of them.

  Kane: Promise? I need my good luck charm, you know.

  Me: I promise. It was actually fun.

  Kane: I’m glad you didn’t suffer for me. And speaking of suffering…

  I waited, but nothing else came through.

  Me: Yes?

  Kane: For informational purposes only, did you know that you can’t have sex with anyone for twenty-four hours after a wax?

  Me: I was not aware of such restrictions, but I appreciate the warning. Should that be a concern?

  I stared at the message for a long moment before getting up the nerve to send it. I held my breath and watched the three dots moving at the bottom of my screen.

  Kane: I hope so.

  Me: I’ll call the spa tomorrow and see if they can change my appointment. Just in case.

  Kane: Beautiful and wise.

  Another text from Kane popped up immediately.

  Kane: No pressure. Seriously. But dammit if it’s not fun wondering ‘will she or won’t she?’

  Me: You’ll get your answer Saturday night.

  Kane: I look forward to it. Sleep well, FGF.

  Me: ???

  Kane: Fake girlfriend.

  I smiled at my screen.

  Me: You sleep well too, FBF.

  Still smiling like a fool, I tossed my phone onto the bed beside me, my body still singing with anticipation. My nipples were tight, and I shivered when I touched them.

  I wished it was Kane’s hand touching me, then began to imagine that it was. His fingers would be stronger, harder, callused, and rough as they trailed down my stomach. I closed my eyes, imagining him touching me… and whimpered as I parted my flesh and slid a finger inside myself, gathering the moisture there before smoothing it over my clit. Heat spread across my skin as my — his — hands caressed me.

  I shouldn’t have been doing this.

  But the throbbing between my legs didn’t care about what I should or shouldn’t have been doing. The desperate arousal driving me was stronger than anything I’d felt in a long time, maybe ever.

  Cupping my breast with my free hand, I rolled my nipple, wishing it was Kane’s strong and certain touch. I moaned as I could almost feel his teeth scrape my skin. His lips and tongue moving lower and lower…

  My — Kane’s — fingers stroked over the wet curls, finding and circling my clit.

  Need jolted through me, and my back arched as my mind fed me an image of him sinking to his knees, his hands spreading my thighs. Touching me with his mouth, his tongue firm as it stroked up my slit.

  My abdomen tightened as I tried to imagine how that would feel.

  I wouldn’t know. I’d never experienced it before. The fumbling boy or selfish football player had never gone down on me, but I wanted Kane to. I wanted to watch his head move between my thighs as he fed on me, drinking his fill. Worshiped me. Made me feel good.

  A moan tore from my throat as I pushed two fingers deep inside me. They were Kane’s fingers scissoring, stretching me, my muscles spasming around their intrusion. I arched up, and the heel of my hand pressed against my clit, giving me the pressure I needed. Wanted. Craved.

  More images flashed through my mind.

  Kane crawling up my body. His muscles flexing as he rode me. His sweat under my fingertips. The taste of his skin.

  The way he would fill me the first time. The words he would say. The sounds he would make. The way he would look at me as our bodies connected, and I closed around him.

  His eyes. Those beautiful green eyes watching me as our bodies came together over and over again. His warm breath on my face. The groans as he came, his hips thrusting hard then stilling as he released.

  The pressure building inside me exploded, and I came, pressing my lips together to muffle the cry. My blood roared in my ears as my heart thudded hard, then slowed.

  When I opened my eyes, I was alone as I knew I would be, but it didn’t stop the little pang of longing that shot through me.

  Suddenly restless, I got up and washed my hands and face, smoothing moisturizer on my skin. As I brushed my teeth, I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering what Kane saw when he looked at me. He said I was beautiful, but the ghostly complexion and freckles were only cute if anything.

  Get some sun, Eliana. You look pale and sick.

  Please do something with that hair.

  I’ve found a laser service that can rid you of those dreadful freckles.

  Sit up straight. Your boobs are non-existent already without hiding them under stooped shoulders.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned away from the mirror and my mother’s hateful voice. Slipping beneath the covers, I thought of Kane again. Beside me, my phone pinged, and I reached for it, tapping the screen.

  Kane: I’m still fake thinking of you.

  I smiled.

  Me: I’m still fake thinking of you too.

  As I fell asleep, my phone still in my hand, I couldn’t help but wish for all of this to be real.

  ***
/>
  “Eliana Anderson?”

  I looked from the Cosmo article I’d been consuming — Sixteen Ways To Make Your Man Wild For You In Bed — and jumped up, my nerves singing as I walked toward a petite brunette who didn’t look big enough to pull tape off the wall let alone the hair from my body.

  “Thanks so much for shifting my appointment,” I told her as she herded me down a narrow hallway.

  “I’m Jolie. We were super lucky to have a cancellation, so the timing is perfect. Sorry we couldn’t fit you in for the works. We’ll do that next time. You’ll love it.”

  Somehow, I didn’t think love was the correct word. But I was lucky that they’d fit me in for the bikini wax. Since it was Wednesday afternoon, it gave me plenty of time, I hoped, to heal.

  Will she? Won’t she?

  Oh please. I was totally going to have sex with Kane Steele this weekend. Hopefully, multiple times.

  I’d been texting with Kane every day, each session getting a bit hotter. Last night, he’d texted me late.

  Kane: Did you watch the game?

  Me: I’m so sorry. I had a doggy emergency and missed it. How did it go?

  Kane: Well, that explains it. We sucked it up and lost. Now I know why, my good luck charm was missing.

  Me: Oh the guilt!

  Kane: I guess I’ll have to forgive you. This time. Better not let it happen again.

  Me: Do I need to be punished?

  Kane: Absolutely. I know exactly how. What are you wearing?

  The texting turned into sexting which turned into another session of me trying to take care of myself. I was becoming a masturbation machine, practically ripping my poor pillow in two. My fingers would be forever pruney if I kept this up. But it was never enough. Nothing I did or tried could fulfill me the way I knew Kane would.

  “Okay, take off your bottoms completely and cover yourself with this sheet…” My head snapped up from my wayward thinking. I blushed, but Jolie didn’t notice. She was reading the consent forms I’d signed earlier. “Eliana. That’s such a pretty name.”

  “Thank you.” Taking the sheet she gave me, I stepped behind the screen and stripped before wrapping the soft material around my waist and hopping up onto the table.

  This wasn’t so bad. I’d been expecting a brightly lit sterile-looking procedure room, but the lighting was soft, the music pretty, and the bed super squishy. It actually felt like I was here for a massage as I laid back, forcing myself to relax.

  “I’m just going to lift this up to your waist,” Jolie said, and I took a deep breath. The only other female to see me down there had been my gynecologist, so it was a jolt when her hands touched my thighs. “I’ll need them farther apart. Farther. Press the bottom of your feet together.” Slowly, I did what Jolie said, and she beamed at me. “Perfect.”

  A dozen insecurities ran through my brain as I lay there and she examined my vagina, pulling over a lighted magnification glass for a closer look.

  Did it smell okay?

  Was it pretty? Or at least normal?

  Were the lips flapping at her like a sail from where I’d touched myself so much this week?

  “Are we going fully bare, or do you want a landing strip?”

  “Strip. I want a strip!”

  “Sure thing. How wide?”

  I don’t know. Wide enough to land a dick?

  “Um…” She held her fingers apart about an inch, and I nodded. “That’s perfect.”

  “Okay, just relax, and we’ll be done in a jiffy.”

  I closed my eyes as she spread the warm wax on one side. That actually felt really good. I was breathing calmly as she pressed something into the wax.

  Riiiiip!

  Holy mother of all things great and small!!!

  “Shhh… we have clients in the next room.”

  Jolie’s image wavered as I looked at her through watery eyes. “Huh?”

  “You screamed. Try to be quieter,” she said as she applied another layer of warm wax.

  “We’re not done?” There was panic in my voice. Panic in my heart. Panic in my…

  Riiiiip!

  Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. My lips hurt from pressing them together to muffle the scream. Sorry, baby Jesus. I shouldn’t be thinking about you right now.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered to the little bitch, “was that too loud?”

  “Much better,” she chirped, and I wanted to strangle her. “Now it’s time to get the lips.”

  Lips? She doesn’t mean those lips, surely.

  “A-are you s-sure they need it?”

  “Do. They. Ever.” Jolie grabbed a mirror and centered it between my legs. “See? You’re lucky they’re light colored, or you’d be half gorilla.”

  Would a jury really find me guilty once they heard what she just said?

  Riiiiip!

  I growled this time, like a feral beast caught in a trap. Jolie looked at me warily as she applied wax to the other side.

  Riiiiip!

  This time, I could only whimper and wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “You should take some pain meds before you come back again,” Jolie said in a helpy helperton voice.

  Pain meds? It would have been just swell to have gotten that recommendation a couple of hours ago.

  My face hurt from the effort of not screaming or swearing like a sailor. I started singing songs in my head, trying to distract myself from what was happening below my navel.

  Twinkle twinkle little… Riiiip!... Son of a hell dwelling bastard.

  “We’re all done…”

  Oh, thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  “… with the front.”

  Front?

  What’s the ba…? Oh no. No. No. No.

  I sat up and squeezed my ass cheeks together hard. “I really don’t think that’s nec—”

  Jolie raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to bring out the mirror again?” A sob escaped my lips and her gaze softened. “I’m sorry. You must really hate me now, but you knew a Brazilian included… back there, right?”

  “No, I didn’t know,” I spat out. “For the last several years, I’ve been working hard in school, trying to make the best grades I could for vet school. All of my experiences with boys have totally sucked ass, so I’ve never gone online to find out about this magical waxing experience.”

  I inhaled a lung full of air and Jolie laid a soft hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. So why are you having it done today?”

  I thought of Kane. His dark hair and sexy smile. Those brilliant green eyes that seemed to see right through me.

  “I met this guy, and we’re going out Saturday night,” I confessed. “I…”

  She smiled. “You wanted everything to be special.”

  I nodded. “I had no idea it would hurt this bad.”

  “The first time is always the worst. If you get it done regularly, it gets to the point where you hardly feel it.”

  “I totally don’t believe you.”

  She laughed. “So… is he worth it?”

  Kane Steele.

  For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like with him. He didn’t seem to be a missionary only kind of guy. So, maybe standing up. Doggy style… where he’d be looking down at my hairy gorilla asshole.

  I groaned.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” I told her before I ran away to be a nun. “But do it quick.”

  She smiled brightly. “Great. Now just turn over and get on all fours.”

  Sweat dripped from my forehead as I got into position.

  Riiiiiip!

  Sex with Kane had better be worth it!

  TO BE CONTINUED...

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Alice Ward is the bestselling author of dozens of hot and steamy contemporary romances. She’s an amazingly prolific writer, releasing a new book almost every single month. Her books are widely read, especially by women and any other lovers of the romance genre. My Stepbrother, My Lover, was her first smash hit.

  Alice has been in love with love since she was a little girl. She had quite the collection of Barbie dolls growing up and spent much of her playtime crafting the perfect Barbie wedding day (and when she wasn’t doing that, she was working on attempting the perfect cartwheel).

  When Alice outgrew Barbie dolls, she began to write her thoughts down in her diary. This was how she discovered that she had a knack for telling romantic stories. Her first fans were her close girlfriends, and her stories were a hit among them. They, along with her family, enthusiastically encouraged her love for writing.

  Alice now lives in Miami with her wonderful, hunky husband. The beach is her all-time favorite place to relax with her laptop and write. When she needs a break from writing (and when no one’s looking) she loves thumbing through celebrity gossip magazines. It’s her guilty pleasure.

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  COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Alice Ward

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.