by Stella Rhys
Is this even happening?
Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’d gone back to bed, fallen asleep and dreamt of Drew silently entering my bedroom to strip me of my panties and bury his mouth between my legs.
Because this felt too good to be real. It felt too right to be real. I was shocked, nervous for all of a second but now I was starting to calm. Eyes closed, I hugged my pillow to my breasts as Drew rubbed his hand all over my ass, laving against me, easing my juices onto his tongue with his every wet stroke.
“That’s it, baby,” he muttered as I arched my back, presenting him more of my pussy to lick. I felt delirious as he lapped at me for what felt like five minutes straight, sending full-body shudders rippling from head to toe before finally forcing me to wake up a little bit.
“Drew,” I breathed in surprise. His sweats were still on but I could feel his cock falling between my calves, dragging heavily up my legs as he kissed up the curve of my bottom, then up my back.
It wasn’t long before he buried his mouth against the curve of my neck, kissing me furiously as his fingers pumped in and out of my pussy.
“Fucking knew you’d be this tight,” he growled low in my ear as I gasped for breath, digging my nails into my pillow.
“Oh my God, Drew. That feels too good.”
“Do you want to come on my hand or my mouth?”
Jesus. Was that a serious question? Was “both” a reasonable answer?
“I don’t care, just make me come,” I whispered just before he withdrew his fingers and flipped me onto my back. I couldn’t see what was happening, but I knew he went down on me fast because in a second flat, I felt his warm tongue on my clit. I cried out hard, one hand clawing the sheets and the other tugging his hair as he gripped the tops of my thighs. Pulling me tight to his mouth, he held me still, licking the wet length of my pussy before sucking my clit till I came. The moan I let out stretched longer as Drew let out a rumbling mmm that buzzed so pleasurably against me it felt like I was coming again.
Oh God. Oh my God.
Holy shit.
I felt Drew’s weight lower on top of me as I caught my breath on my back. I closed my eyes as I felt his mouth return to his favorite place on my neck, and I reveled in lying with him for a little, his teeth skimming my jaw as his fingertips stroked the sopping wetness between my legs.
No yeah, that was a dream, I decided.
Especially when I felt Drew get up and leave, closing the door behind him and leaving me to listen to his footsteps return down the hall.
18
EVIE
It was 11AM by the time I made it down the stairs the next morning. I’d woken up barely ten minutes ago, which was nuts. That meant I slept like a rock.
I was nervous when I heard Drew in the kitchen because I had no idea how he’d be this morning. I mean last night was crazy. It was crazy twice. It all felt like a dream quite honestly, and the only reason I knew it wasn’t was because I woke up to find the top right corner of my fitted sheet ripped off the bed.
And I remembered being the person who did that.
“Morning, babe.”
My eyes fluttered first, and then my heart followed suit when I heard Drew’s voice ring out from the kitchen. Whoa. Babe? Really? I was instantly as relieved as I was confused by the unwavering affection in his greeting. Okay, so I guess we know exactly where his head is at? I thought to myself, my heart pitter-pattering.
But then I got downstairs and realized the truth.
We had company.
“Oh. Hello,” I smiled politely at the older man standing beside the kitchen counter, wearing a blue Empires cap and a polo with the Empires logo on the breast. He gave a big, jolly wave before extending his hand as I walked over to him.
“Lou Dickerson. I’m your fella’s pitching coach. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, so nice to meet you! I’m Evie,” I smiled bigger now that I knew who he was – or maybe it was because Drew placed his hand on the small of my back, wearing a convincingly proud smile on his face as he looked from Lou over to me.
“Lou’s just here to meet me so we can head to the stadium early and watch some tape from yesterday,” Drew said. The look of surprise I gave him was real.
“Wow. That’s super early.” Three hours earlier than usual. I had hoped to have even a minute of time alone with Drew before he left today. If anything, I just needed to see where his head was at. But apparently that wasn’t happening thanks to Lou.
I couldn’t be mad at this Lou guy though. He was just so nice and happy and he had the voice of a radio guy from the 1950’s.
“Evie, I wish I didn’t have to cut into your morning together, but when you see something that needs fixing, you gotta fix it!” he said.
“Ohhh right, the game.” The catastrophic 17-4 loss, to be specific. I didn’t even realize that Lou was talking about that until now. “Wow. I completely forgot that was last night.”
“Well, then it must’ve been you with the good influence,” Lou marveled. “I tell you, Evie, I came here prepared to talk Drew off a ledge this morning, but when I arrived the man was whistlin’ a tune in the kitchen!”
“What can I say, Lou? She’s good at helping me forget,” Drew said with such uncharacteristic wholesomeness that I had to suppress a laugh.
But then I chewed my lip over the fact that he was being so obviously fake with that line. Does that mean I did not in fact help him forget anything? Is he just happy he got to break the no touching rule and shove something in my face? Oh God, this is it, isn’t it? This is the start of the ice-out.
And… here it was.
The paranoia.
As I carried on with the typical small talk with Lou – Drew’s hand on my back the entire time – I wondered what the hell was next. When would I get alone time with Drew next? Tonight after the game? That meant I’d have to endure a whole day of being in my head about last night, overanalyzing everything and trying not to text Drew before he finally got in. God, that sounded like torture.
Especially since I was half-convinced that this was it for us.
We’d proved last night that, new rules or not, we couldn’t control ourselves around each other, so this was it for our contract. Tonight, Drew would come home and tell me that in the end, the fauxmance wasn’t worth his blue balls. Or he would try to get me to sleep with him, I staunchly would not, and then he’d just kick my ass out, invite some girls over and deal with Iain in the morning.
That sounded like such a Drew Maddox thing to do that my stomach preemptively twisted.
“Shoot, look at that time!” Lou suddenly looked at his watch. “We gotta split. Grab those waters, will ya, Drew?”
“Got it.” Drew slid his hand off my back and went over to the fridge, taking out two water bottles and setting them on the counter. “Car’s downstairs, so we’re all set.”
“Perfect. Just gotta use that restroom again. You know me.”
“No problem,” Drew said.
And as Lou crossed the living room to get to the bathroom, I simply stood there, watching Drew close the fridge and just waiting for his attention.
The second I heard the bathroom door shut he lifted his eyes to me. My pulse picked up as he let them linger for a second before coming over. The look on his gorgeous face was so blank and unreadable I swore I was seconds from breaking into a sweat.
Here it comes, I told myself, even though I had no idea what was coming. My head tilted up slowly as he came closer, closer till he was standing with his toes nearly touching mine.
Then just as my heart jumped into my throat, Drew raked his fingers into my hair and crushed his lips to mine.
Despite the shock, I melted right into his body, sliding my hand up from his hard chest to his shoulders, hanging on for dear life as his tongue swept voraciously against mine. For a full ten seconds, he kissed my every question away, letting me practically climb up his chest as our tongues collided.
By the time we pulled away, I found myself perched
on the edge of the counter, my arms wrapped around his neck. My lashes fluttered.
“How… did I get here?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same question all morning,” Drew smirked.
I looked at him, unsure of how to interpret that. But with one word, Drew quickly quelled my concerns.
“Morning,” he murmured, repeating his greeting from before. But this time, it was just for me.
“Morning,” I returned his crooked little smile. I was outwardly at ease, relaxed, but electricity shot all through my body as Drew casually rubbed his hands up and down my thighs. He eyed the clock over the oven then grinned at me.
“I take it you slept well?”
“Amazingly. You?”
“Yeah. You heard Lou,” Drew laughed. “Slept so good I was ‘whistlin’ a tune’ this morning.”
“Right,” I grinned, feeling actual butterflies when I realized that whole whistling in the kitchen thing was real, and that it might’ve had to do with me. Feeling fully awake now, and not completely riddled with nerves, I let myself flash back to last night.
Biting my lip, eyeing the living room couch over Drew’s shoulder and remembering everything in sordid, vivid detail.
For God’s sake, I had knelt at Drew’s feet as he took his dick out and jerked off in front of me. I had flashed him my breasts and watched him release thick jets of cum all over his abs before grabbing a towel and feeling the steel of his cock in my palms as I cleaned him off.
That was hot enough without him coming into my room at night and going down on me in the dark.
“What’s that face?” Drew asked.
“I’m just… thinking about last night.”
“Yeah, I’ve been doing a little of that too.” Drew cupped the back of my calves now as he looked at me. The look on his face was back to unreadable so I had no idea what he was about to say. But then he gave my calves a little squeeze. “Say the word and I’ll eat that pussy again on this counter.”
A shiver ran up my legs.
“Sounds like a great breakfast, but I don’t think you have the time,” I laughed as I heard a flush from the bathroom. “What, um… what time will you be home tonight?” I asked hesitantly, scared of sounding too much like an actual girlfriend.
Because technically, I still had no idea what was going on here. All I knew was that there was no radio silence. We were talking, we were touching and despite pushing limits last night, we were good. At least for now.
And I was too relieved with that to question anything.
“I think I’ll be home before midnight. Depends on whether or not Lou has more tape he wants me to watch,” Drew said as Lou came out of the bathroom. He gave a salute when Drew peered over his shoulder before looking back at me. “So, what’s your day look like, babe?”
Babe. I guess that was our equivalent to saying lights, camera, action!
“Umm, I have a meetings in the Gramercy area and uptown. And I should probably get on Facebook to do some damage control after the comment from last night,” I said with a sheepish grin.
“Uh-oh. Facebook fights. My wife gets into those,” Lou said by the door. Drew laughed.
“Yeah, she was defending my honor last night. It got a little heated,” he said, squeezing my knee. When he turned to me, the slightest frown pinched his brows. “That reminds me.”
“What?” I whispered.
“I still need to spank your ass over that couch,” Drew smirked, dropping my jaw just as Lou called out.
“Alright! Let’s boogie!”
“Coming,” Drew said before turning back to me and catching my chin to give me a peck on the lips. “See you tonight, baby?”
“Yeah. See you,” I managed when he pulled away, leaving me breathless, dizzy, and already analyzing the possible difference between the use of the words “babe” and “baby.”
Great, Evie. I shook my head at myself, still perched on that counter for a good five minutes after Drew left.
Just great.
19
EVIE
Even after a busy day of meetings all over the city, followed by cooking myself dinner, followed by dealing with the aftermath on Facebook, which included a long, private message from Mike that included the line “I won’t stoop to public immaturity and hope you’ll join me in acting like an adult the next time we see each other” – ugh, retch – I was still very much focused on one thing, and one thing only.
And that, of course, was Drew.
I found myself actually tuning into the Empires game while eating dinner, even though Drew wasn’t starting, and I didn’t know what was happening anyway. I was just waiting for the occasional shots of Drew leaning against the dugout railing with Ty, his green eyes looking so deliciously intense as he scrutinized the game from under the bill of his cap.
Just a two-second flash of him on the big screen made my heart thump.
That, Evie, I kept telling myself. That beautiful hunk of man was in your bed last night. Putting his mouth in places where a mouth hadn’t been in years. That man – that insanely hot man in that ridiculously sexy uniform – blew your fucking mind last night.
It was hard to process.
At one point, when the commentators mentioned Drew’s name, I had to do my best not to squeal.
What the fuck? Easy, woman. He’s not really yours, I scolded myself, though I almost did it again when the screen flashed a graphic of the league’s ERA leaders, and I saw Drew’s name at number two.
Crap.
I could feel it. I was getting a little crazy. And ahead of myself. I was slowly starting to sip the Drew Maddox Kool-Aid despite the fact that, just a few weeks ago, I was convinced he was typical athlete playboy who would never in his life care about anything but himself.
So before I knew it, I was grabbing my laptop and Googling him to help myself pump the brakes on the butterflies.
I went straight to searching “Drew Maddox womanizer,” and while I did get tons of pictures of Drew stumbling out of clubs with insanely leggy, short-skirted women, I didn’t see anything that scandalous. There was a story about one of his flings storming the field during Spring Training because he gave her a fake number, but that was more funny than anything.
“Okay,” I said aloud, opting next for the keywords “Drew Maddox infamy.” Alright, I nodded at the tons of results for that search, clicking through as many as I could.
There was a story about him trying to sue his own team when he played in Los Angeles. There were stories about him butting heads with teammates. Cursing off reporters. Smashing a paparazzo’s camera. There were multiple articles about bench-clearing brawls that broke out during games because of him.
There was also, for some reason, a video in the results labeled “THE INFAMOUS INTERVIEW.”
I clicked on it immediately, prepared to see another video of a shirtless Drew in the clubhouse, looking insanely hot while sounding deeply uninterested in all the post-game interview questions he was being hit with.
But instead, it was an actual sit-down interview from seven years ago.
“Oh my God,” I murmured, biting the slow grin that drifted onto my lips, because the Drew I was watching was happy, bright-eyed and only twenty-three years old. His dark blond hair was cropped short and his face was completely clean-shaven. He was still beautiful as ever, but his look was far less rugged, and both his voice and his smile were boyish in a way that I had never thought possible.
In the video, he was absolutely glowing about the mother of his best friend, a woman named Pattie Lillard.
Yeah, because this will really help you not fall completely in love with him, I thought as young Drew raved on about how Pattie had raised him for chunks of his life, and how her son Tim was like a brother to him. He had served as best man at Tim’s wedding, was at the hospital for the birth of Tim’s son, and called the Lillards “the most important people” in his life.
“Yeah, this is really not helping,” I muttered aloud to myself.
/> Because somehow, knowing that Drew was human at some point in his life simply fanned the fire of my infatuation. It made my heart soften for him, and it made me wonder where Pattie and Tim Lillard were today.
“Oh. Fuck,” I mumbled as the interview took a turn, and Drew began talking about his efforts to raise money for treatment after the return of Pattie’s cancer.
Right away, I paused the interview and Googled the name Pattie Lillard, and my heart instantly dropped at the first headline I saw.
PATTIE LILLARD LOSES BATTLE WITH CANCER AT AGE 58.
The headline was from two years ago.
“Geez,” I breathed, holding a hand to my cheek as I clicked back to the interview of young Drew, tormenting myself by hitting play again and listening to him talk hopefully about all the fundraisers he was putting up for Pattie’s treatment.
“She’s going to make it. She means too much to too many people. I know she’ll beat it.”
God.
No wonder Drew was cold and hard now. He’d gone on national television, poured his heart out and still watched Pattie die a few years later. It made my heart ache for him. It made me wish I could just be near him right now and wrap my arms around him.
Basically, it was the exact opposite of what I had hoped to accomplish with this Googling session.
As the video ended with old photos of Drew, Tim and Pattie, I stupidly scrolled into the comments.
“What the fuck is wrong with people?” I whispered to myself as I skimmed the section. Considering the vulnerability and the outpouring of emotion I just saw, it was not at all what I expected.
DREW MADDOX IS A HYPOCRITE.
This dude is a fucking sociopath!!!
Can’t believe he’d do that to his best friend whose mother RAISED him. SMH.
“What the…”
Without thinking, I clicked on the link that was posted with the last comment and suddenly I was on a YouTube video labeled “TIM LILLARD KNOCKED OUT – ORIGINAL.”
I watched about two seconds before slamming my laptop shut.