by Piper Page
“My father owned and cooked for a local diner. He showed us how to make all kinds of meals, omelets, frittata, eggs benedicts…he was a genius when it came to food. His diner was a legend. Named it Stella’s, after my mom.”
“Was?” she asked as she took another bite of the cheesy western egg mixture. “Has he passed?”
I tried to keep it vague, light. Talking about family was not how I wanted my date with Mallory to end. There’d be time for all that later. I shrugged, “Oh no, he’s alive and kicking. He chose his family over his fortune.” I winked and lifted another section of omelet onto her plate. “When do you have to go into work?”
“Mmm,” her eyes darted to the clock above the stove. “Forty-five minutes before I catch the train.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to.” She got up and put her plate in the sink.
I walked up behind her and nuzzled the back of her neck. Her scent was as intoxicating now as it had been last night. “I want to. Will it give you extra time?”
She was biting her lip. I wanted my mouth where her teeth were now. Mallory finally nodded, and I took up my cue, my senses kicking into high gear and thanking me for allowing the moment to begin. Being with her again was going to start my day out perfectly.
My hands relished in the feel of her smooth skin beneath her shirt. I pressed her against the kitchen sink, pinning her body in front of me, the long lengths of her hair against my bare chest. I felt her shoulders drop and relax, and I took the opportunity to bite down on the back of her shoulder blade. Her moan of desire echoed off the backsplash of the sink. My hands worked their way up to her full, free breasts, cupping them and playing with the flesh in my hands until her nipples were hard like diamonds, and then I closed my forefinger and thumb over them, rolling them between my fingers. Mallory arched her back, and her cotton-clad bottom pressed back into my groin. I wanted to bury myself deep inside her.
A single hand traveled up through the stretched v-neck of her shirt, and I gently placed my hand around the silky cords of her throat. I had to remind myself to be gentle. My arms were strong, and in the heat of the moment, I sometimes forgot how strong. I felt a whimper vibrate over the palm of my hand from her vocal chords as I lifted upward, drawing her up on her toes. My mouth found her ear. “I need to fuck you, kitten. Do you need me to fuck you?”
I could feel her try to nod in my grasp. I wanted to hear her sultry, sexy voice say it.
“Adrian, fuck me.” she whispered. She remembered, and I was amazed by her once again.
My body went into motion and my free hand yanked down on her white, innocent panties, dropping them to the kitchen tile. I spun her around in one fluid motion and lifted her to the edge of the sink, parting her thighs with the width of my hips. With my pants around my ankles, I slipped into her warm walls. She was so ready, and it took all my mental ability not to lose myself in her immediately.
Mallory wrapped her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck as I drove into her until she was quivering, and I could feel the rush of her pleasure coating the taut skin of my cock inside her. I didn’t hold back, and I attacked her mouth, pulling her head back by her hair and moaning into the hollow of her mouth at my release. She was goddamn amazing. I couldn’t believe she had no clue to how special she was. It was as if no one had ever told her before.
I stood there, keeping her from falling, all the while trying to keep my legs from shaking and my own feet stable beneath me. Each breath I gulped in filled my nostrils with her scent. How was I going to be able to leave her alone today, or any day, for that matter? I wished I could keep her naked in my bed, hidden away from any other man that might even look in her direction.
“Are you okay?” Her whispering voice brought me back from my thoughts.
“I am perfect, kitten.”
She moaned.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“What?”
I pulled my face away from her, but held our bodies close. “When I call you ‘kitten.’ I can tell, because your body responds in fucking amazing, crazy ways, kitten.”
The familiar blush filled her cheeks, and I caught her lip in mine before she could bite it herself. I had my answer.
Thirty-five minutes later, Mallory appeared in the living room after taking a shower and getting dressed. She was dressed in white deck shoes, faded jeans, and a pink Pushing Daisies scoop neck t-shirt with her hair pulled up into a ponytail. I internally felt my mouth watering when I saw how the neck line plunged deep enough to show the ample swell of her breasts and the deep crease between them. How could I let her go to work like that? She looked completely edible.
“Are you going to work? I mean, practice? Is that what you do during the day?” Mallory asked when I parked in front of the flower shop.
“Practice, and yeah, for a few hours, but I’ll call you later.”
Her face lit up, and I leaned over to kiss her before getting out and opening to door for her. Her lips tasted like mint and Mallory, my new favorite flavor combo. I watched her walk to the front door of the shop and disappear inside before I turned over the ignition and drove away to the practice field.
“Looks like someone had a good night,” commented Emmet from his seat on the locker room bench later on where he was lacing up his cleats.
“Best fucking night, bro.”
“Oh yeah, good piece of ass?”
“You have no idea.” I smirked and got up to put on my jersey.
“She got a sister?” Emmet looked hopeful.
I shrugged, “Don’t know, yet. She has a cute work friend, though. Not your usual blonde type, but I don’t think you’d object.”
“Introduce me?”
“Sure, why the hell not?” I shrugged.
Coach walked in and barked, “Get your lady asses out on the field now!”
The sound of our cleats on the cement floor ramp of the tunnel echoed around us like a marching band. Coach stood with his clipboard in hand, ready to give us the usual “go get ‘em” speech. He called out the play and sent us out on the field. I was pumped. My body felt like a fine-tuned and well-oiled machine. I knew what I wanted, and I knew what I had. The ball found my target every time with speed and accuracy, and when it stayed in my hands, my feet were unstoppable.
I could hear Coach shouting from the sidelines. His hands clapped, and he whooped and hollered each time I succeeded in making a play. Both he and I knew our team was going to be a force to behold and reckon with in the upcoming game. Beyond my personal talent, my skill, and my training, I had Mallory to thank for this.
Emmet slapped his hand on my back. “Dude, whatever she did to you last night, let her keep doing it! You’re on fire!”
“Thanks, Emmet.” I laid my hand on his wrist. “We are going to kick ass in this game, me and you.” I grabbed the back of his neck and butted his helmet with my own.
“Okay men, that’s it for the day, hit the showers and I’ll see you in the A.M.” called out Coach. “Maxwell?”
I looked over, and he was signaling to me to come to the bench. I jogged the short distance between us with my helmet in my hand. I was hoping to get a hot shower in and make a stop at Pushing Daisies before heading back to my apartment. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Great damn work out there today, son. Real good.”
“Thanks. It felt good.”
“Good. I’m not the only one to take notice.” I followed his hand as he pointed up to the skybox. “Richie Rich Dick Bag wants to see you.” Coach’s obvious distaste for our new owner didn’t pass me by.
I rolled my eyes. “Perfect,” I mumbled. I had forgotten about Mike Richardson. “Yeah, I’ll head right up there, Coach.”
Coach nodded and probably thought I was being a team player, good sport, nice guy, but really, I wanted to give that asshole a piece of my mind. The anger I put aside the other day came flooding back, and I clenched my fist hard around my face mask as I took the stairs
two at a time to the glass-enclosed box seats.
I reached for the handle of the door, and it swung open before I could put any leverage on it.
“Maxwell! Man of the hour! Get your ass in here.” Mike took my hand, shaking it with his limp, baby-bottom fingers while pulling me into the room. “You looked fucking great out there. I guess my gym did exactly what I intended it to do.”
“Right, your gym. The gym that you set up for me, to get me into shape, right?” I was biting back hard not to lay into him about his lowlife scheme. I’d let him get on his knees and beg me himself to throw the game, and then I would kick him square in his lying, cheating teeth. He could afford false ones to replace them.
“And it worked. We’re going to clean up on the next game.”
I nodded. “We certainly will.”
“Maxwell, with a man like you on this team, we’ll all be rich and have that fancy Super Bowl ring to flash around. All the honeys will be wanting to play with us. Ya know what I mean?” He elbowed me in the ribs. “I can count on you to keep with the program, right?”
I scrubbed at my face and pinched my mouth between my hands, urging my rage to settle. I had to play it cool. I wasn’t going to throw my career out the window for this joker or anyone else. I had worked too hard. “I’ll keep up the good work, Mike. Are we finished here?”
“Yeah, sure, just one more thing—I’m thinking of getting a new car, get some of the little chicker-roos hot in my passenger seat, what do you drive?”
I narrowed my eyes. Why would Mike want to know what I drove? I was sure he had his pick of the litter when it came to vehicles, and maybe ladies, if he flashed enough dough. “A Lexus.”
“Black, red?”
“Silver.”
“Nice choice.”
I shook my head. “Good to know, Mike. I gotta hit the shower.”
“Big date?”
My rage was on the edge. “Nah, just going home.” I walked out without another word.
The air on my moist skin and wet hair helped cool my mental state. I had to let Mike Richardson go and focus on my game, on that feeling I had prior to talking with him. It wouldn’t do a bit of good for me to obsess about his wants. I’d win the game, and he could sulk in his lost finances. It would serve him right to be out however much he had invested, and then maybe he would move on to a team he could actually manipulate.
I could see the early evening sun glinting off the paint job of my car in the back parking lot. A lot of the guys had already cut out while I had my little discussion with Richardson. There was a silhouetted figure leaning against the passenger side of my car. Squinting, I thought it might be Emmett. I started to jog towards my car.
“Hey Emmett, need a ride?” I yelled.
“Can’t speak for Emmett, but maybe you and I could pick up our talk from the other day, Adrian.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, dropped my gear and curled my hands into fists as I looked at the face of the man in the leather jacket: Mike Richardson’s goon.
Chapter Seven
Mallory
My cell phone rang minutes after I stepped through the front door to the flower shop. I was a good fifteen minutes early. I didn’t recognize the number and thought it was Adrian’s, even though I couldn’t remember giving him my cell phone number. Hell, at one point last night, I would have given him my bank account number. I let my voice drop to a sultry tone, trying to sound like I was lying in a bed of silk rose petals, naked, with a glass of wine in my hand. “Hello?”
“Well good morning there, sweetheart, is this Mallory Basso?” asked a rough, deep voice on the other end.
I coughed and straightened up, feeling like a complete idiot, the imaginary wine spilled and me scrambling for my bathrobe. “Yes it is.”
“This is Tom at Main Street Auto. Your car is ready.”
“Oh great!” I exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm, trying to hide the embarrassment that Tom couldn’t see all over my features. I’d forgotten about my car. It would be nice not to have to ride the train anymore. Then again, I also wouldn’t need Adrian to drive me to work either, and I had to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed being chauffeured by him this morning. “When can I pick it up?”
“No need for that, your brother made arrangements with us to have it delivered to your place of work today. Free of charge,” he added at the end.
I smiled, even though Tom still couldn’t see me. Of course he did, I thought to myself. “Thanks Tom. Take your time, I’ll be here until four. Do you know where I am?”
“Yes ma’am, your brother is very efficient.”
“That he is,” I responded, then thought to myself, except when it comes to letting me know where he was or if he’s okay. At least I knew he was close to home now. I clicked off the line and shook my head. I wondered if my brother would ever stop tampering in my life. Thank god he didn’t show his face around the house last night, or this morning, for that matter. I thought about it and laughed. He would have flipped his lid, but then again, he had no right to—it was my house after all. I was free to do what and who ever I wanted in it, and if luck was on my side, and boy did I hope it was, I’d be doing Adrian in it again tonight.
The memory of his hands on my hips last night and this morning made me shiver. He controlled the whole situation, and I let him. Maybe tonight I’d make him purr like a kitten. I sighed, thinking of him calling me that, the best sounding nickname in the world. I perched my chin in my hands on my elbows, closing my eyes as I leaned against the counter and picturing his mouth forming the name over and over again, kitten.
“Earth to Mallory, you there?” Leslie was waving her hand in front of my face. “When did you get in? I didn’t see you on the train this morning.”
I stood up and turned away from her, tying on my apron. I wondered if she’d b able to tell that I’d had sex, twice. It hasn’t been my intention to have sex with Adrian. Yeah, sure, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t let the thought run through my mind, but I really didn’t expect him to spend the night with me and then have me on my kitchen sink this morning. I bit my lip and smiled, remembering how he felt inside me, the way our bodies moved together and the extreme pleasure he pulled out of me with no effort at all. I wondered if he knew that it was my first and second time.
“So when did you get here?”
I shrugged and kept my back to her. “I don’t know, like twenty minutes ago?”
She furrowed her brow. “How? The trains only run every forty minutes…wait, oh my god!” she exclaimed. “Adrian brought you.”
I turned to her and narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Leslie started scanning my neck and chest with a broad grin, leaning in close.
I stepped back. “What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for hickeys, dork.”
“Oh my god Leslie, we aren’t teenagers!”
“So you aren’t denying you did do something?” Her dark eyes went wide. “Mallory, did you give your virginity to Adrian Maxwell?”
I didn’t say anything. I turned back to the work table and started to absently pull various flowers out of the bottom cooler and create makeshift arrangements as a distraction.
“I…I can’t believe it! Adrian Maxwell and my little innocent Mallory. I can’t believe it,” she repeated, barely able to hold back her excitement.
“Can’t believe what?” Robbie had come in to the shop through the back door and was now standing behind the counter with us, eating a banana.
“None of your business,” snarked Leslie.
I gave her a quizzical sideways glance.
“What’s up with the attitude, Les?” Robbie asked, jumping up to his usual seat on the counter.
“Attitude, you think this is attitude? Why don’t you go back home and play World of Geekdom with your virtual friends for another twelve hours, then you’ll see attitude.”
“Oh, so you’re mad about that?”
I stood up
between them. “Hey kids, this is work. Let’s be professional.” I glared at Leslie with an “I told you so” stare.
“Fine,” she stated, blowing by Robbie and standing close to me. “So are you two going to see each other again? I need the details, Mallory. Someone around this place ought to be getting some satisfaction” she glared again at Robbie.
I shrugged. “I hope so.”
“Oh wow man, that’s right, you had your date with Adrian Maxwell. How did that go? Did you let him into your Silver Lining Playbook?”
Leslie and I both glared at Robbie.
“When he dropped me off, he said he would call,” I said, turning my attention back to Leslie.
“Well that’s a good sign. Does he have your number?”
I grimaced. “I honestly don’t remember if I gave it to him, it was all such a whirlwind.”
“What, did he tackle you in your end zone?” He bounced his eyebrows playfully.
Both Leslie and I pointed to the backroom and yelled “Get out,” in unison.
Robbie jumped off the counter with his hands up, the limp banana peel hanging in his fingers. “Broads! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t play World of Warcraft with ‘em.”
“Robbie Dittmar, I swear to god, if you don’t get the hell out of here right now I am going to tell your entire little internet buddy friend-circle what you really wear when you sit on your couch all night playing video games.” Leslie pointed to the back room again.
“Fine, you don’t have to tell me twice. Just because Adrian scored a touchdown, you’re both all up against me.”
“Apparently we do have to tell you twice, dumbass. Get out.” yelled Leslie.
Robbie relented with a pout and vanished into the storage room.
I lowered my voice and looked at Leslie. “What does he wear when he plays video games?”
“An Ironman helmet.”
“So?”
“And nothing else.” She smirked sardonically.
My hands covered my mouth.
“Enough about Robbie—if it weren’t for his amazing, magic dick, I’d kick myself for ever entertaining the thought of sleeping with him.”