Second and Short

Home > Other > Second and Short > Page 5
Second and Short Page 5

by Michel Prince


  “With possibility, there is always a chance, with chance there is always hope.”

  “Roll over, I need to get you in before you get killed by a bear.”

  “You know,” he said as he rolled and got on all fours. “You keep bringing up bears like they’re an issue.”

  “Who lives here?” she queried and he raised his head to look at her. “That’s right, it’s me, so how about you listen to me when it comes to nature around here.”

  “There really are bears?”

  “Yep.”

  He let out a loud roar of laughter. “I can see the headlines now. Grizzly mauled by his moniker off the field.” Willie didn’t seem as amused as he was while he growled and bear crawled his way into the cabin. Her foot pressed against his ass and pushed when he found the doorway. Thankfully she was barefoot, but it didn’t stop him from howling like a large animal as he swung his arm forward making his way into the cabin. “Have you ever been mauled by a real life Grizzly?”

  He flopped on his back and swiped at her like he was a bear. His hand actually caught her wrist and he pulled her toward him. The gun no longer in her hand, she wasn’t much of a threat when he pulled her down on his chest.

  “Damn you’re hot.”

  Willie had to admit the thud that woke her up in the middle of the night could have been worse than a drunk lineman. The dead weight of his arm crushed across her back. Soon the animal noises switched to snores loud enough to rattle her windows. Wiggling to free herself resulted in her being poked from below. Damn. Large man, large appetites and even larger still…

  “Yeah, I’m going to need you far, far away from me,” she told her sleeping giant. The smell of his evening wafted from his lips as he snuffed and snored. “You are kinda cute, but you’d be cuter if I could move.”

  Suddenly Dalton shifted and rolled on his side. Not since she was ten had she felt like a ragdoll that could be easily moved around. Now she might as well be a sock monkey the way Dalton tossed her around, but still held her tight to his chest. Stretching her arm out she was able to capture a sweatshirt and she balled it up under her head. It wasn’t the most uncomfortable place she’d slept in her past. The hatchback she used to drive was much worse and no matter how many layers she had on she still shivered all night. No chance of that with the heat emanating off Dalton’s body.

  Light streamed through the window facing the lake. Willeen pointed her toes to stretch her calves. Dalton had one leg wrapped around her waist and curled back between her legs. Her sweatshirt pillow had been replaced by a bicep. Even though Dalton’s arm was curled back and across her chest he wasn’t choking her. Instead the pretzel he’d morphed into may be unyielding, but she didn’t feel trapped.

  Her fingernails trailed up his arm tracing the relaxed muscles. A warm breath tickled the back of her neck and the man behind her went from comforting to handsy. With a stoke of his hand he explored from her hip, around her belly and up to her chest. The large lump once again pressed against her backside as the whiskers from his beard brushed along her neck. His hand moved its way south and soon landed between her thighs. Fingers pressed on her mound and began rubbing circles. Sizzles of heat had her pushing her ass to him and biting her lips. He was asleep, wasn’t he? Her body bucked against the friction and right before she felt her release Dalton slowed, then stopped.

  “Oh shit,” he breathed behind her. “Please say I know you.”

  “Yeah,” she stammered. “It’s Willie.”

  “Right, you saved me from a bear.” His body stiffened.

  “Something like that.” She tried to not scream out as her core throbbed begging for a small release. Maybe if she shifted just a smidge it would flip the switch and she could play it off. With a hip shift, she rubbed against his stilled fingers and let out a whimper she wished she’d been able to silence. “Thank God.”

  “Did you just…?”

  “You started it,” she reasoned not about to turn to look at him.

  “I could finish it way better than that,” he assured. “You did take my drunk ass in last night.”

  “There really wasn’t another option.” She tried to drag herself from his arms but he locked down on her tighter. This time his hand inched up to her waistband.

  “Do I want to know how we ended up sleeping on a cold floor together?”

  “You turned into a bear and mauled me.”

  “Things are becoming clearer to me now. The fog is lifting, but it’s being replaced by a migraine.”

  “I know a few ways to cure that.”

  “So do I,” he said as his fingers inched their way under her waistband.

  “I’m not the one with the headache.” It wasn’t her head aching. He was right, that little shot from a moment ago only increased the weight in her core. Pressure had built with warmth and wetness. “What do you remember from the bar?”

  “A kid impressed with my height, a drunk mechanic, Trap the bartender pointing me home and making sure I wasn’t swallowed by a woman named Angie.”

  “When did you blackout?”

  “Damn you’re hot,” he said and slipped his hand into her panties. “After that you could have had your way with me. I don’t remember that.”

  His middle finger was fat and long as it snaked between her wet folds. “I’m not really one for ravaging the unconscious.”

  “Me either.” His finger invaded her and her head pressed back against his chest. “Oh fuck.”

  “Not yet,” he promised as he nibbled along her neck. “There are way too many fun things I want to do first. Fuck woman.”

  One of Dalton’s hands was inching her pajama bottoms down as his middle finger joined another with hard strokes. Rubbing against her clit as they went, she put her hand over his to press it harder against her now nakedness. A zipper sounded behind her and she inched away enough so he could free himself. With strokes bringing her once again to the brink, her nails dug into the back of his hand. Her breaths increased as she felt her core clenching around his fingers that stilled, once again right as she was about to come.

  “That’s just mean,” she howled right before he removed his fingers and inserted the largest cock she’d ever known. Her breath didn’t catch in her throat, it vanished completely as she was stretched to an excruciating sweet spot. The pending orgasm had her nerves sensitive mixed with the sting of insertion. “Oh my God.”

  “You ready for all of it?” he asked with a hand on her hip.

  What the fuck? All of it? Her walls were crammed tighter than a junk drawer at a grandma’s house.

  He pulled back a bit, leaving what she assumed was the head of his cock at her opening. “Are you ready?” he growled. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m about to explode.”

  “I…I…” the ache had taken an ugly turn and she became the aggressor slamming her hips back until she felt the root of him.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned and pulled her body as close to him as he could. “Don’t move, for the love of all things don’t move.”

  Willie had spent too many years doing what a man said, this time she was getting hers. Her hips rotated and thrust against him, while his fingers curled into her ample hips. Outside of fearing she would spear her liver with his long hard shaft she let go and let God. She rode him until her body shuddered. Dalton once again held her tight to him while his cock pulsed against her and hot jets shot his essence inside her.

  Chapter Three

  Lesson one when you choose professional sports as your career. Never fuck unwrapped. More importantly, never come inside a woman especially when she’s so damn hot you can’t help but want to take this little floor romp on the road. Dalton knew better. His best friend is Jerome Speed, the Speed Demon of Love until recently. His paternity suits hit double digits. Not that Dalton thought Willie set out to get pregnant, but shit happens and the fact he didn’t want to remove his limp cock from inside her wasn’t helping.

  “My headache isn’t completely gone,” he said finally unla
tching himself from the best piece of ass he’d ever known.

  Willie crawled from his arms and pulled herself up on the couch as if her legs no longer functioned. They sat there staring at each other for five minutes. Each in their own world until Willie reached for her pajama bottoms and left the room. Dalton watched until her apple shaped ass was no longer visible.

  “Dumb ass,” he bemoaned and dropped his head in his hands. His cock twitched like a crack addict knowing its next fix was less than a minute away. Looking to his crotch, he scolded the wayward monster. “You’re not helping.”

  Willeen was hot, slick and tight. When she came, he might as well have been in a vice made of pussy. Where could this go really? Sure, he had money and any wife he married would be well provided for and not need to work, but Willeen was a country girl. He couldn’t imagine her trying to fit in with high heeled, big hair and thick make up girls in the family suites. Danika wasn’t that way, but she had a style and grace that could command a room.

  Why did Dalton even think this way? Fucking optics that’s why. He’s a damn cartoon character and you can’t introduce another character without approval from a damn committee. Pulling himself up, Dalton tucked his cock away and zipped back up. His phone had fallen from his pocket at some point in the night he assumed, but it was no good since the battery had died.

  The shower had been on for a few minutes telling him Willeen’s plans. Part of him wanted to slide in the warm water with her, but that didn’t seem right. What was right? Wasn’t the point of this trip to unplug from what had been and discover what could be?

  “Alright moron, what’s your next step?” he asked. “Stay? Go? One-night-stand seems beyond rude. It’s not like you don’t want to hit that about twenty more times.”

  “You call all the women you fuck a that?”

  Dalton spun around and discovered he had a little bit of alcohol still in his body. “How long have you been there?” he asked unsure if the vision of Willeen was real. Her hair was pulled up into a bun as droplets of water beaded on her caramel colored skin. The towel she wore wrapped around her round bosoms he’d overlooked in her work clothes. She had a body for sin and Dalton hadn’t gone to confession in a decade. Seeing her in flannel and jeans had him burning to touch. This…explained why he was thinking long term.

  “You talk to yourself a lot?”

  “Define a lot?”

  “Right, well don’t feel obligated to me. I have got a list longer than your—” She caught herself. “Maybe not, um, Dalton I don’t usually… I’m not available.”

  “Is there an angry husband I need to worry about?”

  “No, not like that.” She tightened her hand around the towel on her chest. “Me personally. I’m unavailable. Most days I don’t even spend with myself.”

  “You schitzo or something?”

  “I live in a small cabin, but it’s overflowing with baggage.”

  Dalton turned his head from side to side and had to admit there wasn’t much to the cabin. A couch, two-person table with only one chair, a desk with a computer so old the display wasn’t flat and triangles were it’s bouncing screen saver. There were only two doors in the room. One to outside and one to what he assumed was a bedroom.

  “Either way,” she continued. “We were two people working out some tension for different reasons.”

  “Exactly what were those?” he asked as she went into the small kitchenette that had an apartment sized fridge and freezer and a stovetop, but no oven.

  “For me it’s a long dry spell.”

  “And me?”

  “I’m not a mind reader, but I suppose I could follow you around and wait for you to start babbling again.”

  “In my defense,” he said as he stood up and crossed to her. “I’m not used to being alone, alone, if you know what I mean.”

  “Not a clue.”

  “I’m an offensive lineman. We tend to move in packs. Most don’t listen to what we say. Also, I’ve had a few concussions in my day and self-talk helps move me from place to place. If a coach isn’t yelling at me to get off my ass, I have to do it myself.”

  “Are all linemen this weird?”

  “Possibly, I haven’t met them all, but I can tell you I’m uncomfortable being alone.”

  “Why?” she asked and as she pulled out a few pieces of bread and tossed them in a toaster oven.

  “Now you sound like Danika.”

  “And she is?”

  “My life coach.”

  “Wow, you live for coaches huh?”

  “I understand them. My dad’s an amazing one actually.”

  “Okay, so this Danika, how does she help you?”

  “What do you know about me?”

  “Very little. Your name is familiar, but that’s about it.”

  “Have you ever seen a Grizzly’s jersey covered in blood?”

  Willeen cocked her head to the side and paused. “Um, yeah actually I have.”

  “Those are mine. I’m the Blood Thirsty Bear of the Gridiron.”

  “The what?” she laughed as she removed her toast and started to butter it. Dalton had to fight back the urge to sweep back the few wisps of hair along her neck. He wanted to devour her in every way and the fact she hadn’t dressed was making it hard on him. Curves strained at the terry cloth towel barely covering her thighs leading to her long legs only to end in the most perfect toes. Barefoot and practically naked, what more could Dalton want? “How do you go from babbling to speechless in less than a minute?”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said you were hot.”

  Willeen’s eyes locked on his as she brought the toast to her lips and then bit. Dalton pulled his bottom lip to squelch the need in him to press against her. The caveman was creeping back into his mind. With an arm on either side of her hips he trapped her against the counter before lifting her at the waist to place her on the countertop. Her eyebrow raised before pointing her toast at him. With a crunch, he bit the cooked bread and inched her knees apart.

  When the hormones weren’t surging Dalton was highly intelligent. Three days had passed and when not in each other’s arms they had talked about everything, except football. Games were starting and although his team had a bye, the fact he wouldn’t be suiting up the next Sunday was grating on him. When he would workout, she would work and try to settle the teenage giddy taking over her body.

  “’Bout time you showed up,” Stanley said as he came out of his cabin and tossed her the keys to his truck. She wasn’t sure why, he never locked it and with how damaged his ignition was she could use a screwdriver to turn it over.

  “The transmission just arrived today,” Willeen said as she dropped her tailgate. “I’m gonna need your wench.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Around.” Willeen took out her phone. “Did I miss something?”

  “You usually stop by. I was worried about you. If I didn’t see the storm windows on the Quince cabin I would have called the sheriff out to search for your body.”

  Willeen had been mauled by a grizzly for the last three days and couldn’t think of a better way to spend her time. “Bucky’s guest has needed a little extra coddling.”

  “Has he now?” Stanley’s eyebrow arched as he crossed his arms. “Do I need to have a discussion with this man about his intentions?”

  Willeen laughed. “That’s sweet, but I think I can handle him.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stan replied. “Willie, he’s an NFL player. Emphasis on the player part.”

  “Do you even know his name? What position he plays?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Didn’t you take in my father even though he was a drunk native?”

  “That’s not fair. Your dad had his issues, but have you ever talked to Bucky about the athletes he works with? The stories he tells—”

  “Dalton is…” Willeen trailed off. “It doesn’t matter, he’ll be going back to Chicago soon.”

  “And the smile on
your face, will it be gone too?” Stan stuffed his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker. “That’s what I don’t like Willie. You’ve had more heartbreak than a girl your age deserves. I just want you to be happy.”

  “And Dalton isn’t the man to do that for me?”

  “Are you thinking long term? Because I guarantee he isn’t.”

  “I’ll never have a long term. Not with Hector still breathing. I came to terms with that awhile ago. Right now, I’m all about the moment. And in this moment, Dalton puts a smile on my face.”

  Stan and Willeen set up the wench and removed his old transmission, then put the new one in. After the heavy equipment was done being used, Stan borrowed Willie’s truck and headed into town while she spent most of the day attaching the bolts, wires and making sure the timing belt was set correctly. Using a rag, she wiped her hands only to suddenly lose her feet. They swung out in front of her as Dalton’s massive arm wrapped around her belly.

  “Hey there sexy,” he growled in her ear and finally set her back on the ground.

  “That’s me,” she said proudly with her arms in the air. Standing in a long sleeve T-shirt, jeans and hiking boots. “Runway models have nothing on me.”

  Dalton reached for the rag resting on the side of the truck and wiped at her cheek. “Sorry, I should have asked if that was your make-up. Guess I think you’re too beautiful to need any.”

  Willeen’s heart sped up and the smile she’d been wearing all day widened. “What are you doing all the way over here?”

  “Cardio,” he said and she took in his soft shorts and t-shirt. “Gotta get my heart pumping one way or another.”

  “Your knee’s okay?”

  “Still a little tender, but hey I’m turning into the hulk now.” Dalton lifted his right short leg a bit and the once deep purple bruise had lightened to a greenish blue. Stepping forward, he lifted his fists in the air until he had her trapped between him and the grill of the truck. Bringing his fists down on either side of her he called out. “Hulk smash.”

  “We back to that huh?” she teased and snaked her arms around his neck. “So tell me, what do I need to do to get Bruce back?”

 

‹ Prev