by Abby Knox
You cannot get attached. If you do, then Elliot will get attached. When it ends, it will mean heartbreak for Elliot as well.
Troy interrupted her thoughts by speaking low, his cheek resting on the top of her head. “You said Elliot is at a sleepover tonight.”
She grinned. “Yeah. And Ryan is picking him up from Brandt’s tomorrow and bringing him to school on Monday. Why, do you want to come back to my place and play cards and watch Conan with me?”
He laughed. “Definitely, but not tonight.”
“Oh,” she said. “OK, well, why did you ask? You want to take me home and violate me next to the air conditioner?”
Troy’s hand went from stroking her hair to feeling inside of her bra. “My cock would say every damn second that I’m not inside you or kissing you or in between your thighs is wasted time. But there’s something I want to show you. I’ve actually been planning this weekend away, if you’re up for it?”
“Tonight? Now?”
“Yep. Chicago.”
“Chicago? Right now? Why on earth?”
“Humor me. I’ll follow you home in the truck, but you have to make up your mind by the time we get to your house. Then if you decide to come, go inside and grab a bag and I’ll wait. If you decide not to come, just text me and tell me to fuck off, and I’ll leave.”
She did not tell Troy to fuck off. Later, as they drove in the darkness down Interstate 80 across the plains of central Illinois, they talked.
“I’ve been wanting to take you here since the first time you emailed me.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you need to see it.”
“See what?”
He smiled. The darkness could not hide the flash of his teeth. She couldn’t see the dimples, but knowing they were there made her happy. “My church,” he said.
“You do not attend church.”
“Depends on your definition.”
He pointed to his ball cap and kept grinning.
30
Troy
By the time they reached the city limits, Remy said she was starving.
Troy felt like a heel, bringing her all this way and not stopping for food. He’d been so focused on getting to the hotel for the night, having a little more fun between the sheets and getting a good night’s sleep with her in his arms that he’d forgotten about food.
Remy was good for him. She reminded him to eat.
It was about nine o’clock when they checked in to the hotel, and basically everything anybody could want to eat was within walking distance.
They walked a block away and passed at least two bars with sidewalk seating, beautiful well-dressed people drinking, laughing.
Troy had hoped to find someplace charming and quiet and romantic for them to eat, but Remy spotted a casual Mexican joint and made a beeline, tugging him behind her.
“I don’t mean to sound like a rube,” she said over the din of the crowds, “but this is awesome. Middleburg has its sidewalk rolled up at nine p.m. every Saturday night. You don’t see a soul out on the street. This is amazing! I’m sitting outside at nine o’clock eating a delicious taco and hearing live music from about two different places, and everyone around me is dressed about ten times better and so far this is the best trip of my life.”
Troy stared at her gorgeous face as she tore into her food with glee.
“Have you never been here?”
“Oh sure,” she said through a mouthful of food. “I’ve been to the Museum of Science and Industry, Field Museum, Shedd Aquarium. All the stuff that Iowa people do with their kids on school field trips. But we never got to do this! Wander around, watch people, eat tacos, have a margarita, that’s for damn sure.”
Troy reached across the table and traced a finger inside the neckline of her shirt, then dipped down to the first button, surprising her by tugging it open. “Well, I’m hoping this will be a strictly grown-up fun trip for you,” he said.
She smiled and blushed. He loved that after all they had done together, she still blushed when he talked to her like that.
“Before we go back to the hotel, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he added.
“Go ahead,” she said through a mouthful of taco.
“You are my girlfriend. I don’t want there to be any doubt. I’m your boyfriend. We are solid, and I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. Even while you’re eating that messy taco and I know I’m going to find bits of lettuce on you later, I love you. And we talk about things. OK?”
He waited. Her eyes were big and wide open and unreadable, and she had stopped chewing. But at least she was listening. She finally swallowed and spoke.
“Elliot worships you. If you’re my boyfriend, that means there’s a gray area with Elliot.”
“How so?”
She set down her taco. ”First, you and I were having a fling. Now, we’re in a committed relationship. It would be great if it was just you and me. When it ends, we can handle it like grownups. But Elliot will have gotten attached and that’s not fair to him.”
She held her breath and looked across the table at Troy like she was gathering up some extra courage. “If any man is in my life, it’s gotta be 100 percent. I can’t have my kid putting trust in you only for us to end this thing down the road.”
“I never would have asked you on our first date if I had wanted just a fling. God, Remy. I literally cannot stop thinking about you every single day. Now this thing has gotten too big to be a fling, don’t you see that?”
Remy smirked. “Well, don’t flatter yourself, it’s not that big.” She glanced down at his crotch.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Troy could see he had some more work to do, and it was getting late. Tomorrow he would fix this thing in stone. Tonight they would have a kickass time in a ritzy hotel, but tomorrow he was going to put all questions to rest once and for all.
Less than thirty minutes later, Troy was ripping her leggings off with a force that sent a rip all along the fabric in the thigh.
“Oh god, I’m sorry.”
Remy tossed the leggings right into the trash from the bed. “They’re garbage. Now come down here and let’s mess these sheets up real good, Coach.”
Well, how could he say no?
Underneath the trashed leggings she had on some bright turquoise silk thong kind of thing. He was instantly hard again and thanked her for wearing it. “Although,” he said, “I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“They’re more comfortable than you might think, if you get good ones. And they prevent panty lines. If you’re gonna commit to wearing leggings and yoga pants, I have two rules: no panty lines, and do a shit-ton of squats so your ass looks its best…oh my god! Troy!”
Troy finally got her to stop talking by slipping that thong out of the way and forging a path with his mouth into her core without any warning or buildup at all. She gasped in simultaneous shock and pleasure. He worked around her and kissed her thighs. He stopped when she said his name.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll keep going when you figure out what to call me.”
A smile crawled across her flushed face. “Oh, are we playing a game?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I like it when you call me ‘ma’am’ in that hot Southern accent.”
“It’s called manners.”
“Then why don’t you use your manners and don’t leave me hanging, Troy.”
“What did you call me?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Sir?”
“No, ma’am.” He slid his hands away from her body and waited. He watched her squirm in anticipation and need. It wasn’t nice. But it was so much fun being on the edge of not-nice with her, especially when she was into it.
“Coach?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Troy returned his face between her thighs and got to the pleasing work of making her howl. He stroked her labia with his tongue. She sighed loudly. He found her clit wit
h his lips and she moaned. “Coach. You make me want to scream.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered between kisses.
“Oh Troy!”
Troy suddenly stopped and pulled away again.
“I’m sorry! Please don’t stop. You’re killing me!”
“What’s my name?”
She whimpered, “Coach.”
Troy smiled as his hands traveled up her tummy, over her navel, pushing her cotton tank up past her breasts. He nuzzled her and nibbled one nipple and then the other through the fabric of her bra.
She instinctively raised her arms above her head and arched up as he quickly rid her of her tank top and bra. She sighed as he went to work pulling her thong all the way down with his teeth.
Once she was completely naked beneath him, he knelt over her and looked down at her amazing body in the mussed pile of hotel sheets. She looked like a goddess with her dark hair splayed out like a crown around her head. The look in her eyes made him feel something beyond just simple arousal. Whether she knew it or not, she was feeling real feelings. She may not admit it, but the intensity in her eyes was piercing his soul. He was a goner. This was it. This was the woman for him. He didn’t want anybody else in his bed ever again. Her eyes, her lips, her strong chin, her sexy bare shoulders, that ass of hers, her hair, all of it aroused him beyond belief, but their soul connection was real, and he was going to spend his whole life demonstrating it to her, if that’s what it took. He sincerely hoped it would not take that long.
“Coach,” she said again, huskily. He realized he had taken too long of a moment to gaze at her and she was waiting on him.
He nodded. “Ma’am.” And traced a path of feathery kisses across her collarbone, down her chest, his lips landing on a dark, hard little nipple, which begged him to suckle. He did for a moment as her hands caressed his shoulders, his back, pulling up on the fabric of his shirt.
“I want to feel your skin against me,” she said.
“I’m gonna keep my clothes on, ma’am. I like you being totally naked under me and letting me take care of you. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Good answer.”
He reached under her and gripped her ass with both hands, and she spread her legs wide for him. He plunged into her core and found her hard little seed again. She was completely soaked for him. She was giving him another raging boner.
He stroked her with his tongue, in and out and around as her cries grew in intensity.
“I’m coming, Coach.”
“Slow that ass, ma’am.”
“I can’t, I’m coming now.”
But he wanted to make her shatter the way she’d done to him. So he pulled away from her again.
“Coach, it’s not fair. I’m following the rules. This is torture.”
He lovingly massaged her inner thighs. She moaned and tried to hug him into her with the strength of her legs, her back arched in agony and longing to connect their bodies. He squeezed her ass cheeks in his hands. He waited a few more agonizing seconds and then finished her with his lips and tongue.
She howled. She screamed, she convulsed and contracted and shattered around him. The sight of it, the sound of it, her sweet taste and her deep-down scent all conspired to make him nearly come while fully clothed.
He cried her name. “I love you, Remy.”
“Coach,” she said hoarsely.
“Say my name.”
“Mmm. Troy,” she murmured.
He kissed her lips and her forehead and whispered, “You don’t have to say it back.”
31
Remy
There was no Troy in the hotel bed when she woke in the morning, but there was a gorgeously plated room service tray with hot coffee, croissants, European-style butter, cut exotic fruits and poached eggs.
But she was hungry for other things at the moment as she heard the shower running.
She smiled devilishly as she hopped in with him.
“Hey, good morning!” he greeted her. He was bright and chipper in the morning. That was two things they had in common.
She closed the curtain and turned to him and took the soap from him. Troy raised his arms above his head. His abdominal muscles were almost too beautiful for her to gaze at. She soaped up her hands and lathered his chest and stomach.
She finally replied, “Thank you for this room. It’s stunning.”
“You’re my girl. I wanted to do this for you.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Nothing sweet about it. I can’t keep my eyes or my hands off you. I’m just flat-out crazy for you. I’m in love with you, Remy.”
She bit her lip. This was getting intense. She knew she should be careful with her heart, but man, that body. Those hands. That mouth that made her blush and then heat up and finally explode like a volcano in the sheets. She never wanted anyone to look at her for so long, ever. Was this lust or was it crossing over into something else? Was this something else real, or was it just Troy putting the thoughts into her head? Could she believe him? She had so little experience to know whether this was real.
“Remy,” he said, stroking her temple, his hands cupping her face, “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but don’t worry. You don’t have to say it back. Just let me love you. I’m here for you and I’m all in. Don’t shut me out because you’re not sure about me yet. You don’t have to think, just let me handle it, and I promise, you will get there. Now turn around and put your hands up high on the wall.”
She smirked. “Am I under arrest?”
He looked at her like he was deadly serious.
She obeyed. She was expecting another raucous tussle, the kind that they’d engaged in sporadically all night long in the bed. But he didn’t attempt anything other than gently lathering and massaging her body with the new loofah she had packed.
“Nobody has ever spirited me away on a whim in the night before. It’s overwhelming.”
“We could always skip the game today and go back,” he growled, sudsing her up between her legs.
She caught her breath. Man, no matter how many times in one night they ravaged each other, her sex never stopped responding to Troy’s touch. Whether it was purely physical or becoming attachment, she didn’t know. She decided to live in the moment and let whatever happened today, happen.
32
Troy
All the time he’d spent watching her walk away fully clothed, he had assumed her toned ass was the sexiest part of her, but washing her down in the shower, he was realizing his cock was aroused the most by the small of her back. The inward curve of her waist, the tone of her muscles just above her ass cheeks. Nobody else looked this good naked, as far as he was concerned.
And he had no desire whatsoever to see anybody else but Remy naked in the shower with him, or even simply standing next to him ever again.
She pleased him the most just hearing her breath catch when he worked the loofah around inside her thigh gap, and upward, around her inner thighs, and gently around her center. Even after all they had done to each other all night long, he was entranced by her, and her sex still wanted his touch.
He had the thought of getting underneath her in the shower and tasting her sweet sex all over again, bringing her to climax here in the shower, but he wanted to stretch things out.
He wanted her to need him and save her energies for later, after the main event. With any luck, she would come around to loving him. He had exactly three hours to make it happen.
Less than an hour later, the two of them were alone, in the middle of Wrigley Field. His old teammate and friend with the gaudy World Series ring had come through with providing a private tour of the stadium. Troy smiled and made a mental note to send the guy a fruit basket.
The look on her face was exactly what he had hoped for. Awe. Wonder. Delight. “This really is a lovely place,” she said.
“Like I said, my church. This is the whole reason right here, why I’ve spent my whole life in lov
e with this game. And I finally made it here. I swore after everything that happened I would never come back. But I’m working through it and I’m so happy to be back here with you. I think this is some kind of destiny that brought us together, don’t you think?
Her cheeks flushed. “Troy, you’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”
“Pretty much. Let’s go.”
33
Remy
She never would have believed it if anyone had told her she would one day spend a date at Wrigley Field, home of the 2016 World Series champs, tossing a ball and running bases with the hottest man who’d ever existed, in her opinion. She would have not just laughed. She would have paid for that person’s therapy.
Normally, this was not her thing. But Troy was happy, and it made her happy to see him happy. He hit the ball out into left field and ran the bases; both times he appeared to be getting gradually more and more emotional.
Well, maybe that was the point, He was working through something. Not a thing that men in her life had been known to do. They weren’t supposed to deal with their feelings.
She watched this magnificent man toss the ball back and forth to her, and she realized something. He was working on himself, and he wanted her to be a part of his process. If there were any doubts about his intentions, they dissipated. Nobody would ever include her in this much hard emotional work if they only intended to have a fling.
Troy threw the ball to her one more time and she caught it with one of his extra well-worn mitts.
“Smell it,” he said.
“Smell what, the baseball?”
“Yes,” he encouraged. “Smell it.”
She did.
“What do you smell?”
“Leather and dirt. And your hands.”
“Look around you. What do you see?”
“I see green grass, turf, I see blue sky, white fluffy clouds, green hedges bleachers, blue flags, I see people over there on that rooftop, drinking beer at noon and watching us.” She waved. “I think I smell hot dogs.”