Hooked Up
The Game Plan
Featuring stories by
Jami Davenport
Sandra Sookoo
Marie Tuhart
****
Kindle Edition
****
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
HOOKED UP THE GAME PLAN
A TOUCHDOWN FOR CALLIE
COPYRIGHT 2012 by Jami Davenport
HOLE IN ONE COPYRIGHT 2012 by Sandra Sookoo
FANTASY PLAY COPYRIGHT 2012 by Marie Tuhart
Published by Sybarite Seductions, an imprint of Twenty or Less Press. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Sybarite Seductions.
Contact Information:
[email protected]
Visit us at sybariteseductions.com
Book Design by ZenD
Fitness Man and Woman COPYRIGHT dmitroza / bigstock.com
Locker Room COPYRIGHT klikk / bigstock.com
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
Big Brothers: Big Brothers-Big Sisters of America Corporation
LSU: Louisiana State University
****
Table of Contents
A Touchdown for Callie by Jami Davenport
Callie Lester, a play-it-safe girl for twenty-nine years, decides to shake up her dull life. She's never had a one-night stand, and she wants one before she turns thirty. For a month she stalks pro football player Drake Hopkins waiting for the right--or wrong--moment to put her game plan into motion. When she finds him alone in a bar, she knows it's time to be tackled by the hunky football star and not for a loss but a big gain.
Hole in One by Sandra Sookoo
All Nisha Patel wants out of life is to run her vintage clothing shop and not think about her former flame, Reid Bowman. Though it’s been three years since she dumped him for his arrogant attitude, he’s never been far from her thoughts, and memories of his hands on her body still haunt her.
Reid’s reappearance at the annual strip miniature golf tournament throws all her carefully laid plans awry. During the nine-hole course, Reid reveals a new side of himself and plays her body in ways she can’t deny, but can one quick hook-up lead to more?
Fantasy Play by Marie Tuhart
When former pro football athlete, Max Hunter returns to coach his hometown high school football team, Grace Elliott welcomes a chance to rekindle her relationship with her former Master. Steamy fantasies are fulfilled as they spend sultry nights together. But when Max is offered a coaching job at the pro level will he leave Grace for his career again?
****
A Touchdown for Callie
by Jami Davenport
Being a stalker wasn't nearly as easy as Callie Lester imagined.
Her target stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned. Callie dove for cover behind a boxwood shrub and knelt down. In her haste, she caused a mini avalanche. The foot of powdery snow sitting on top of the plant cascaded down, coating her hair and clothes. She froze—literally—and listened for the sound of footsteps either retreating or advancing in the fresh snow. Holding her breath, she clenched her teeth to stop their chattering.
After what seemed like hours, the fresh snow crunched under his feet. She waited as the noise faded away. Cautiously, she peered over the top of the bush, just in time to see him head into a small neighborhood bar.
Callie slipped from behind the shrub, brushed herself off, and hurried down the street. Opening the bar door, she hesitated and squinted into the dim light. The top of his dark head was bent over a beer at the end of the counter, and she couldn't suppress her smile. A DJ played sexy dance music, but not so loud people couldn’t carry on a conversation. A few couples dirty-danced on the small dance floor. Several tables near the dance floor were occupied, but no one sat at the end of the bar where her quarry parked his fine butt.
She nodded to the lone bartender as she sat down at a barstool, leaving an empty stool between her and the man. Callie’s entire body trembled with excitement and fear. Prim, proper Callie had never done anything daring or crazy.
Until a month ago.
Until she turned twenty-nine and looked back at twenty-nine years of playing it safe, always being the good girl, the smart girl, the dull girl. Dull girls dated dull guys and had unimaginative sex in unimaginative places.
She spent her days as a file clerk in a large law firm. Mega boring. She spent her nights reading hot erotic romances and fantasizing about being in one of those hot romances. Or having, heaven forbid, a one-night stand.
She spent her Sundays during football season drooling over Drake Hopkins, voted the Hottest Man in Professional Football by Women’s Romance Magazine.
So on her twenty-ninth birthday she’d made a promise to herself. She would not turn thirty without living life on the wild side. Considering all the possibilities, from an office tryst with the nerd in the cube next to her to a fantasy liaison, she chose the one-night stand with an unattainable guy as her goal. Crazy, but hey, she needed to dream big, and anything in between would suffice, even just sharing a drink together.
She knew Drake lived in the city all year. One month ago, she’d driven her car to the team’s training facility, parked in the back of the lot and watched. Despite being the winter off-season, players came and went all day. Pretty soon Drake, a duffle bag slung over one broad shoulder, strode out of the building. With a swagger in his walk, he looked like he owned the world, and he did.
Callie started following the hot football star like a groupie stalker, only not quite as obsessively, or so she told herself. She limited her fixation to a few nights a week, plotting her next move on the other nights. She spent mega-bucks on a makeover, including having her dark brown hair styled and highlighted and buying new, sexy clothes.
Drake never seemed to notice her. Maybe being followed by women was the norm for him, and he thought nothing of it. Regardless, she kept a low profile.
She’d waited for an opportunity like this. Tonight he would notice her, she’d see to it. Callie would not chicken out. Tonight he wasn’t with a bunch of rowdy buddies.
The bartender approached. “What’ll you have?”
She opened her mouth to order a Coke but stopped herself. This was the new, daring her. “I’ll have a rum and Coke.”
A second later one appeared in front of her. The bartender wandered off to talk to a table of regulars, leaving her and Drake alone.
Callie crossed her legs and resisted the urge to pull down her skirt when it rode up her thighs. She glanced at Drake. He stared straight ahead looking at the hockey game on the TV over the bar.
Callie frowned. Maybe she wasn’t doing this right. Stella, her best friend who was everything Callie aspired to be, had promised this outfit would drop any man to his knees, slobbering at her feet. Drake didn’t glance her way once, let alone slobber, drool, or clear his throat.
Looking down, Callie adjusted the front of her black lace corset top. Her breasts spilled out thanks to the built in push-up bra. She’d never worn anything so naughty in her life. Her hands shook as she picked up her drink and took a sip. She finished the drink then caught the bartender’s attention and ordered another, needing more liquid courage
. Halfway through the second drink, warmth flooded her body.
She felt eyes on hers and flicked her gaze to Drake. He stared at her legs, which were one of her best assets, long and shapely from all the miles she ran every week. She crossed them, and her skirt rode up even higher. His hot gaze burned into her skin as if he touched her with more than those famous baby blues of his.
Her entire body ratcheted up to high alert with lust so powerful it overrode her usual good sense and shocked the hell out of her. Her arousal wet the crotch of her miniscule G-string. She squirmed and pressed her thighs together.
Drawing in a deep breath, she turned to him. He still stared at her legs, shameless playboy that he was.
“Hello, I’m Callie.” She held her hand out.
His gaze made the slow journey up her body. He lingered on her breasts spilling over the top of the tight corset. She melted right then and there. She’d follow this man anywhere, do anything, and be anything for him. Her entire body tingled from the painted toenail on her big toe to the tips of her newly highlighted hair.
Lifting his gaze to her face, he tossed her one of his bad-boy grins that promised all sorts of carnal fun. Taking her hand, he squeezed it but didn’t release it. “Well, Callie, I’m Drake.”
“I know who you are.” She spoke in a hushed whisper.
“A fan, huh?” He rubbed her palm with his thumb, slow and sensuous.
She might have her first orgasm from just that simple stroking.
“The biggest fan.” She leaned forward, giving him an ample view of her cleavage.
“I like female fans. A lot.” He shifted his gaze downward and a wolf-like smile spread across his sexy, stubbled face. “They’ll do just about anything for an autograph.”
He was flirting with her. Her. If she got any hotter, she’d self-combust. Her stomach tied in knots from fear and anticipation. This really was going to happen. She was going to have a one-night stand with her football hero, the sexy guy to rival all sexy guys. So what if he wouldn’t remember her name tomorrow, she’d never forget his.
Drake slid onto the stool next to her. His denim-clad leg rubbed against her bare thigh. “So tell me, Callie, what would you do for an autograph?” He laid his big hand on top of her knee.
She swallowed and cleared her throat, trying to find the words that evaded her. “Anything,” she croaked.
“Really? Anything?” He leaned forward. His hot breath tickled her ear. “Would you fuck me?”
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Her heart lodged in her throat. She nodded.
He grinned and slid his hand up her thigh, creeping higher and higher. He nibbled her earlobe then slipped his tongue in her ear. She almost fell off her seat, but he wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her onto the barstool.
“Let’s dance.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he grabbed her hand and hustled her to the dance floor.
The pulse of the music wrapped around her as various colored lights and effects created a dizzying assault on her senses, adding to the surreal scene. Drake pulled her against his tall, lean body. His erection pressed against her crotch, ample proof this night would end the way she’d planned.
He used his clever, naughty mouth to burn a path down her jawline to her mouth. She opened for him, and his tongue thrust inside. He took whatever he wanted with no protest from her. As the dominant alpha male he was, he deepened the kiss, his mouth hard and demanding, conquering her and dispelling any misgivings she had left.
Drake slipped his hand behind her back and slid it lower until he cupped her ass. He kissed her harder, bruising her lips, building a frenzy inside her she’d never experienced before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his shaggy hair. He bucked his hips against hers. As if they were screwing on the dance floor, her body rubbed against his, grinding into his crotch, exercising its own will. Who was she to argue?
He drew back, breathing hard, and studied her. “You are one sexy woman.”
“You are one sexy man.”
He ran his hands up her sides, cupped her breasts and squeezed hard. She bit back a moan. A look of wonder crossed his face. “These babies are real.”
“Absolutely. No silicone whatsoever.”
“Damn.” Without explanation, he led her off the dance floor and snapped his fingers at the bartender. “Mike, I need a key to the backroom and a bottle of wine.”
Mike opened a bottle of wine and handed it to Drake along with a key. After spinning around and hauling her with him, Drake made a beeline down the hallway, past the bathrooms, to a door marked Office. Callie’s heart threatened to beat right out of her chest as he turned the key in the lock then opened the door.
Drake stood back and waited for her to enter first. Then he shut and locked the door behind them. After flicking on a desk light, he sank down on a worn leather couch. The music seeped through the walls, the bass vibrating the room with the perfect beat for a little sex.
Callie hesitated, uncertain what to do next. Drake lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He handed the bottle to her. His slow, predatory smile wet her panties even more. She took a long swig, needing all the help she could get.
“Do a strip tease for me.” He spoke like a man accustomed to having his orders followed, leaving no room for argument. His feral smile reminded her all the more of a wolf.
Callie’s body swayed to the music, as if acting on its own. She lowered the straps on her corset top and began her fantasy.
****
Drake couldn’t believe his incredible stroke of luck. He’d come into Blarney’s tonight to drown his sorrows. The word hadn’t leaked out yet, but he’d been cut in favor of a rookie. Hooking up with a fan had been the farthest thing from his mind, but funny how things changed.
Had she been the normal type of groupie, he wouldn’t have propositioned her. At least not tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for women who screwed anything with money. Yet the second he’d laid eyes on Callie, he’d known she was different.
Sure, she looked the part with that hot, sexy outfit that screamed “fuck me.” Yet his instincts, which he trusted unequivocally, told him differently. She didn’t normally do this. For her, screwing jocks was the exception, not the rule. He found watching her good girl side waging a battle with her bad girl side fascinating. Not only that, but her veiled innocence excited him. She’d come to the right place because he was just the guy to bring out that naughty vixen inside.
“So do you do this often?” As if he didn’t know the answer to that question. Her darting eyes and fidgeting hands told him all he needed know.
“All the time.”
“Bullshit.”
“Does it show?”
He nodded. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
“I’ve never gone after an athlete—or anyone—for a one-night stand.”
“Well, sugar, you came to the right place because I’m your one-night-stand man.” He hesitated, knowing he needed to offer his normal disclaimer. “I just want you to be perfectly clear that a one-night stand is all this is. Once it’s over, we go our separate ways.” He felt like a heel telling her that, but he believed in honesty. He didn’t have more to give a woman, didn’t know if he ever would. But the last thing he’d be is one of those guys who got married then fooled around on his wife. He’d rather stay single and fool around. And to keep his life simple, he never slept with any woman more than once. It was one of his personal rules.
“I understand. It’s what I want.” She looked at him. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled with need, which he totally understood.
He needed her, too. Bad. Really bad. His dick definitely needed her and ached to be buried in her warm pussy.
“Then,” He crooked a smile, “strip for me, baby. Make me want you.” He leaned back, propped his feet on a scarred coffee table, and waited.
She hesitated for a split second. Slowly, she moved her hips in time to the beat of the music, but the movemen
ts were jerky and tentative. He licked his lips as he stared at her heaving chest and impressive tits. And they were real. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a handful of silicone-free boob. It didn’t happen in his artificial world.
He held his breath as she tugged on the front laces of the tight corset-style shirt. With trembling fingers, she loosened it to bare minute inch by minute inch of creamy white skin until her rosy nipples were exposed. Oh, man, he wanted to taste those babies.
Callie glanced at him through lowered eyelashes and ran her tongue around her red lips. She slid the corset past her hips and down her long, long legs. Drake forgot how to breathe when she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of that short, short skirt. She turned her back to him and waved that fine butt in his face as she pulled down the cloth to reveal a G-string clad ass. Down the skirt went, and up went his dick. As she spun, she caught the fabric with a toe and flipped it toward him. It landed in his lap.
By now he was panting like a horny lion trapped in a den of lionesses. She danced close to him, tantalizing him, teasing him. Each time he reached out to touch her she sidestepped him.
“No touching. Not yet.”
“You’re killing me, darlin’.” He crooked a finger, but she shook her head. “Take off the G-string.”
She wagged a finger, obviously enjoying the power. Hell, he didn’t care right now who was in charge as long as his hunger and dick were fed. Definitely his dick. She danced a little too close, and he grabbed her by the G-string, catching her off balance. She fell forward, her knees on either side of his body. Her crotch in his face.
Oh, yeah. Perfect. Very perfect.
He held her in place by grasping her ass. Using his teeth, he moved the G-string aside. Her crotch was shaved except for a small patch of dark hair. She was soaking wet. He slid his tongue from back to front in one long swipe. She groaned and leaned into his face. Drake delved between her folds to the source of her wetness and savored the hot, sweet taste of sex. He lapped up her juices then thrust his tongue inside that cavern of pleasure, pushing deep thanks to a long tongue—one of the things women loved about him.
Hooked Up: The Game Plan Page 1