“Yes, but that was two years ago. A lot of time has passed and I realize now that I was insane.”
He chuckles. “I hope you don’t feel the same way about us. That you were insane back then.”
“How could I ever think that?” I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.” This is something I tell him pretty much on the regular.
“That’s good to hear, because I have something to ask you.”
I forget how to breathe. I swear, this man is going to kill me one of these days because I keep forgetting to breathe around him.
He drops to one knee, slowly, drawing it out, teasing me a little.
My startled gaze drops down to him. “What are you doing?” I whisper, even though I know very well.
“What do you think?” He slides a hand into his pocket and pulls out a velvet box.
It’s all happening. Everything I’ve ever wanted, right here in front of me. The most perfect man, somebody who loves every part of me, even the rough patches and the things I’d rather not let anybody else see. He wants to see those parts. He wants to love all of me, and I couldn’t ask for more than that.
Well. Maybe a little magic. But he gives me that, too. Like right now, right in this moment, with the fireworks going off overhead, the music playing and the sparkling light reflecting in the water. Reflecting off the diamond, he reveals when he opens the box.
Holy crap, is that thing real?
“Dakota,” he whispers, looking up at me with a faint smile. “You’ve made these two years the happiest of my life. You’re the missing piece I didn’t know I was missing. With you, my life is finally complete. I have a real reason to get up every day, because it’s our life I’m working to build. Along with you. We’re a team, the best team I could’ve asked for. You’re everything in the world, my reason for being. And I love you with all my heart.”
I cannot breathe, I just can’t.
He looks down at the ring, then back up at me. “I swear to you on this ring that you’ll always have every bit of me for the rest of our lives. I’ll strive every day to be the man you deserve, because you deserve my best and nothing less. You will always have my devotion, support, respect, and adoration. Will you marry me?”
I can’t even see anymore, my eyes are so full of tears. I’m crying so hard, I can barely move. But I can nod. I can whisper, “Yes.” Once the ring is on my finger, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto him because my legs are too weak to support me.
As always, he holds me up. Whenever I don’t think I have it in me to stand anymore, when I’m tired, frustrated, hopeless, he’s the one who holds me up until I feel strong again. And he just promised to do that for the rest of his life. This wonderful, wonderful man wants me to marry him. I still can’t believe I’m the one he chose, or that he chooses me everyday. The way I chose him.
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear.
“And I love you,” he whispers back.
It’s only then that the sound of even more applause filters into my consciousness. We’re surrounded by cheering passengers who slowly but surely became clued into what was happening. I hear our names called out too, which reminds me there are still people who remember us from the show.
“I guess we should be used to this by now,” he whispers in my ear.
“We did sort of get our start in front of the entire country,” I whisper back, holding him tighter than ever. We stay that way for a long time, wrapped up in each other, as the new year starts and we sail into it together.
Later that night…
Trent
She comes into the room wearing the little black babydoll nightie that always gets me hard instantly and holding a silk scarf. I lie in bed naked watching while my dick gets harder and harder. She stops at the bottom of the bed. Her hair is freshly washed and shiny.
“So where’s my surprise?”
“You have to wear a blindfold first,” she says.
I grin. “Okay.”
“No taking it off until I tell you to,” she says sternly.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She gets on the bed and knee-walks towards me.
Fuck, her surprise—I just want to grab her and devour her pretty pussy.
As if she can read my mind she says, “You’ll regret it, because I can tell you now that you are going to love your surprise.”
I let her blindfold me and fuss around checking that I can’t see from under the silk.
“Right,” she adds. “Remember. You can’t take it off no matter what. Until I tell you to.”
“Got it.”
“I’m going to go out of the room and when I come back, you’ll get your surprise, okay?”
“I’ll be here waiting.” I hear her go out and head out in the direction of the kitchen. What the hell kind of surprise has she cooked up? Intrigued, I listen until I hear her footsteps come back. I say nothing while she gets on the bed. I feel her straddle my thighs. Instantly, I’m hard again.
“My, my, you’re eager,” she teases.
“I’m always eager for you, sweetheart. Are you going to use that sweet little tongue of yours?”
“Maybe.” She takes my cock in hand and gives it a few strokes.
Then I feel her warm tongue on the tip of my dick. She’s licking my pre-cum. I groan.
I hate the blindfold, because I want to watch her. I never tire of her little cat-like licks. Her tongue moves to lick the underside of my cock and the thick vein underneath pulses. I feel thick cum dribble out of me. Suddenly, something weird happens. Whoa? Whoa! What the fuck is that? Her warm mouth is still sucking my cockhead, but something else incredibly juicy is happening too. It is wet, and wild, and fucking weird, but in a good way. In a very good way.
“How are you doing that?” I ask.
“Take your blindfold off,” she instructs.
I don’t need a second bidding. The blindfold is off and Goddamn, I’m staring at my woman using a grapefruit that she has hollowed out to simultaneous jack me off with while she greedily sucks my cockhead.
For a moment, I’m too surprised by the sight. I might give into the strangely fleshy pleasure or I’ll laugh. I decide to give in to the fleshy-pleasure, because hell, nobody gives head like Dakota, I could lose my soul right out of my dick.
She moans around my tip as I come deep in her throat. I watch her swallow everything. She lifts her mouth from my cock and pulls the grapefruit from my dick. We have made an enormous mess. I pull her hand and she falls on top of me. I touch her cheek and she smiles at me. Her face is so innocent it makes my heart ache. I have never felt so utterly protective over any other woman before.
She looks at me from under her lashes. “And that was the grapefruit blowjob. Was it a good surprise?”
“Spectacular. Just spectacular.”
The End
Interested in trying out the grapefruit technique? Follow the link for instructions. Beware the ‘Darth Vader sucking up the universe’ sounds though.
Have fun! ;-)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wD7PKKstAcg
Editor Teresa Banschbach
Cover Designer: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover By Design
Taken By The Baller
Published by River Laurent
Copyright © 2017 by River Laurent
The right of River Laurent to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-911608-00-4
Creat
ed with Vellum
Appreciations
My deepest gratitude and thanks to
Georgia Le Carre for her invaluable support
my editor, Teresa Banschbach,
and my proofreader, Brittany Urbaniak.
Chapter 1
Drake
I roll my shoulders back and groan. Hell, there’s nothing better in the world than a long, hot shower after crushing it in a game like that. I towel off briskly, wrap it around my hips, and pad into the deserted locker room.
The rest of the team is probably already huddled around drinks and wings celebrating our victory. I’ll catch up with them in a minute, but I like to take an extra fifteen minutes to unwind after a game. My adrenaline pumps for ages after I leave the field, and heading out on the town with testosterone swirling around my system will only end in … well, a whole bunch of chicks to clear out from my apartment in the morning.
If there’s one thing they never tell when you sign up in high school, it’s that getting lots of women will turn from something you only fantasize about as you jack off, to something you need to actively discourage fairly often. It’s insane, the amount of attention we get.
Not that I’m complaining, of course.
I smile at my reflection in the mirror and hear a small, feminine cough from behind me. My grin grows wider. See what I mean? Glancing around, my eyebrows shoot up when my gaze falls on one fine piece of ass.
Fuck me, this woman is hot.
Maybe a couple of years younger than me. Gorgeous waist length blonde hair, but pulled back into an ugly ponytail. Makes me want to curl a fist into that glossy, thick hair while I slam my cock into her. My cock hardens at the dirty thought.
She’s wearing a black pencil skirt and a blazer that my headmistress would have been happy with, but she looks nothing like any mistress I’ve had, either in or out of the classroom. The curves of her hips are perfect. I can already see myself grabbing them tight as I pound into her. Her eyes are enormous and bright blue, but she seems to be having some trouble maintaining eye contact with me. Her eyes slide down to my tented towel and then away fast.
I lean against the locker and let out a low whistle.
She bites her lip and it makes me want to stuff my cock into her mouth.
“Can I help you, sweet pea?” I drawl, deliberately letting my eyes drift lazily across her body.
“Uh,” she begins, and I snap out of my reverie at once.
Her voice is high-pitched, almost panicked, like she’s been caught with her greedy little hands in the cookie jar. We’ve had fans sneak back in here before, and they are almost always fainting with excitement. Something else is going on here, something I can’t put my finger on, yet. I wonder if one of the guys sent her here as a present for me. I did put in the winning score. Thanks, guys, excellent choice.
“How did you get in here?” I ask softly.
She gulps, brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ears, and finally makes eye contact. Whoa! My heart leaps up into my throat as those baby-blue eyes sizzle into mine. They are wide and bright and rimmed with long lashes. An image of her on her knees in front of me sucking my cock while looking up at me with those baby doll eyes jumps, unbidden, into my head. I kick it out. I need to back down, way down and focus on the interesting dynamics in front of me. This woman is not a gift from my teammates, she’s not a dizzy fan, and quite obviously has no right to be here either.
I straighten to my full six feet four inches of lean muscle.
“I’m … uh … I told them I was a journalist. The guys outside, I mean,” she explains nervously, tripping over her words in her haste. “I’m not, obviously. I lied. I just need to ask you something very important.”
“Wait, you told them you were a journalist, and they just let you through? Without any ID?” This was sounding more and more like a setup, but one I found deliciously entertaining.
She swallows hard and tries to smile.
That trembling smile does something to my insides. It’s been a long time since I wanted to fuck a chick this much. I shake my head and pretend to be angry. “We need better fucking security around here.”
“It not their fault. I have an honest face,” she blurts, sounding more and more desperate.
“Or maybe you let them take turns?”
Her eyes flash, but her voice is even. “Look. I used a fake ID, okay.”
“No shit.” I smile at her.
She crosses her arms across her chest defensively, her ponytail bobbing sexily as she does so. “I just need to ask you something,” she repeats, as though she has carefully practiced what she is going to say and doesn’t really know how to deal with any deviations.
“What’s your name?” I ask, taking a step towards her, and closing the gap between us. She holds her ground, though she takes a sharp, involuntary breath.
“Reese. Reese Westwood,” she replies.
“Uh-huh,” I cock my head to the side. “Reese.” The name rolls off my tongue. “So, you lied to get in here to see me. Why?”
“To talk to you. What else?” she responds, her voice a tiny bit sarcastic. So, the pretty doll had a bit of attitude, did she?
“Oh, I could think of a few good reasons.”
She blushes bright red. Her flawless skin turns rosy. Damn! I must be getting jaded. I don’t think I’ve seen a girl blush like this since … I can’t remember the last time. Well, I guess I can give her five minutes.
“Okay then,” I shrug. “What is it you need to ask me?”
She takes a deep breath, balls her hands into fists at her sides, and lets the words tumble out of her mouth in one great big confused jumble.
“My stepmother, she’s dying,” she begins. “And she sent me here to get you because … because … when she was a teenager, she got pregnant, and the baby she had was you, but she was forced to give you up.”
My head jerks back and my palms come up. “Whoa. Back up, back up, sweetheart. I don’t think you got the right guy here.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t have the wrong guy. You’re her son and she just wants to see you again before she … before she goes. She wants to die in peace in the knowledge that you guys have, at least, met, and you don’t hate her. That’s … that’s all she wants.”
“That’s all?” I snorted at the ridiculousness of what she was saying.
For one thing, I know I’m not adopted. I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old. Why would my parents be keeping that from me? My parents and I have a very open and loving relationship, and I know they would have, at some point down the line, mentioned picking me up from some teenage girl when I was a baby.
“You have to believe me,” she cries. “I’m not lying and neither is your mother. She’s a good person. A really good person. At least just meet her. Just once.”
Scowling, I turn towards my locker. I have to, because looking at her stops me from thinking. For one minute, I need to think with my brain and not my dick. What is immediately clear when I’m not looking at her luscious curves and lying eyes is that she must be part of a scam. When you exist in the public eye the way that I do, you learn fast to tell the difference between heartfelt pleas from fans, and cunning con-women trying to count your money for you.
Of course, they’d send along a smokin’ chick to try and seduce me into believing their shit story. I get that and quite frankly, they chose one hell of a candidate. Not only is she a fantastic actress, playing the part of a super innocent damsel in distress to perfection, she’s already got me all twisted up in knots with lust.
I’m quite a good judge of character and I must say there is something sincere about her. Some parts of the scam could be true. Maybe her stepmother really is sick, and she needs the money for her. The way she looks, I’d have been happy to foot her medical bills if they were real, but using this stupid and callous method, one that involves my parents is a bit much. That’s just low. She just lost any sympathy I might have had for her predicament.
I
turn back around, my face completely expressionless. She is staring at me with a pleading look. I stare at her in astonishment. What is it about this woman? Even knowing that she is a con artist, all I want to do is slam her up against the lockers and fuck her until she screams my name.
“So, you want me to go meet my biological mother … who is dying?”
She flinches at my deadpan delivery, and for some crazy reason, I feel a small stab of sympathy for her.
“She is your biological mother,” she insists fiercely.
“So you say,” I retort.
“She only wants to look you in the face. Just once. Please,” she pleads.
It’s getting harder and harder to resist her. She seems so sincere. “I get that, but what’s in it for me?”
We stare at each other. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but my mind is churning with dirty, filthy thoughts.
“Please. I want to help my stepmother. I’d do anything for her,” she blurts out.
My cock actually jerks at that. “Anything?” I consider the word, as it it hangs in the air between us like a promise. I cock an eyebrow at her, and ideas began to take shape in my brain.
Right, I’ve established that she’s a con-woman. I can’t trust her, not as far as I can throw her, anyway. She’s lied through her teeth to get in here, and this last statement, I see it for what exactly it is. A barely disguised offer of her body in exchange for what she wants. Some part of me is furious with her because I really like her and she’s turned out to be nothing, but a cheap slut. Putting herself out so easily. How many men has she offered herself to like this? I don’t know why, but I fucking hate the idea of any other man touching her.
Fuck it. Two can play at this fucking game. If she’s passing it around like candy why shouldn’t I have a piece too? It’s stupid to let her walk out of this room without at least trying my luck. Would it be so out there for me to untie her hair and watch all those glorious golden waves cascade down her body? I bet her skin is like the finest silk, and I’ll lay money she’ll moan when I suck those big, juicy boobs. My cock starts pulsating for her.
Dare Me Page 16