“You like that, hunh?” he asked.
“Not too hard,” she counseled. “But just hard enough.”
He obliged her, striking her a little bit harder than he had before but all in fun and not harmfully or dangerously. It was like a little electric shock. And it was just enough to set her in motion.
The constriction that the spanking caused was no longer voluntary. From deep within, Diane’s body sweetly convulsed as Rob drove into her. She hugged the hood of the car and stared out into the vast night as she came.
“Oh baby,” he muttered.
Her pleasure gave him pleasure and he was soon tumbling after her into rapture. They did not hold back as they moaned through the orgasm that they shared. He bent over her, shielding her, twining his fingers as her as their bodies seized and spazzed.
“God you feel so good,” he whispered.
And so did he.
Chapter Eight
It was more than magical being in her car, with the top down on the roof of the building. There wasn’t a soul around. It was just the moon, the sky and Rob and Diane.
They had climbed back into the car after putting their clothes back together and held one another. She laid her head against his broad, rock-hard chest, taking great comfort in the warmth of Rob’s body. How could something so fit and so muscled be so luxurious? She could sleep right there under the vast night sky.
She knew though that if she were to maintain a sexual relationship on top of attending class at the wicked pace before traveling half way around the world, something would have to give. She could not do well at work and class if she were focused on him.
“We can’t do this, can we?” she remarked.
“I don’t think we can,” he agreed, with disappointment in his voice. “I have a buddy who can teach what you need to know, just like we planned.”
“It’s weird how two people who just met each other have so much history. Or at least that’s the way it feels,” she said.
“It does,” he said.
And then he laughed.
“Jeez,” he said. “I was not looking for a relationship.”
Diane wasn’t sure how she should take that? She was a big girl. She realized that people had casual sex. But he didn’t need to be callous about it.
“I get it,” she said. “No strings.”
He dipped her back into his arms and looked her straight in the eye.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” he said warmly.
He stroked her hair.
“I like you,” he said. “I really like you. I want you for my own. Boyfriend and girlfriend.”
It was a lot to take in so fast. Diane’s head was spinning.
“And I don’t know how much travel you’re required to do with your job but I don’t want this to be the end,” he said.
It was not often Diane heard a guy say those words. She was not a big dater because she did put work first. But it was also not often a guy like Rob walked into her life or snuck up behind her, as the case was with her.
Diane brushed her fingers through his luscious hair.
“Why do we have to decide anything right now?” she whispered.
She realized as she said those words, she wanted him again. It was crazy. Her appetite for him was insatiable.
“Why not just take this one step at a time?” she asked as she positioned herself to take him again.
Rob had a strange almost painful look on his face as he looked at her. He looked like she felt. If it wasn’t love, it was something.
“Sure,” he said.
They held each other under the night sky before driving home.
THE END
Game Changer
Jennifer Redding was annoyed. It’s not that she didn’t appreciate the privilege of interviewing Adam Arlane, Major League Baseball’s newest prodigy. It’s just that he was always notoriously late and it just seemed like he made it a point to be late. He always stepped all over members of the press, knowing full well that they needed him and he didn’t have to say a damned thing.
Maybe Jennifer was a little miffed because she actually enjoyed baseball and wasn’t going to give him the usual “so…you’re a baseball player!” treatment like all the other press whores. She was going actually ask him about Game 6 and about his strategies in playing the Braves, the Yankees, and the Red Sox.
But of course, he was late and just testing her like he did all the others. But her news editor told her to be grateful that she was hand selected by Adam for Baseball Weekly magazine. Probably because of her name. Everyone knew Adam was a womanizer and notoriously dated celebrities, sports models and probably hundreds of groupies on the side.
He wouldn’t be disappointed, since Jennifer was certainly no slouch. She was in her twenties and physically active, though certainly not the pole-thin physiques of those women in Hollywood. How would Adam even respond to a “real woman” with natural breasts and not looking stacked and sculpted like a Marvel Comics heroine?
She wasn’t expecting much, not in the way of good personal habits. So she figured maybe sticking to sports talk was the best way to go.
Adam Arlane was about thirty minutes late and arrived at the espresso shop in a foul mood—how fitting, foul, Jennifer thought with a grin. Adam certainly looked stressed. Not just stressed but downright opposed to the setting. What, was he just too important to mingle with the commoners now that he was voted Athlete of the Year everyone from Madonna to Jennifer Lawrence had been linked to him?
He was certainly buff, broad shouldered and muscular. He dressed casually today wearing a slacks and a long sleeved navy blue shirt to combat the wintery breeze of the day. His face was truly intriguing, not at all like the typical A-Rod or Bryce Harper, those butter faces that seemed stoked and fueled to hit dingers.
He actually looked a tad poetic, a little sad, and with full sensitive lips. His eyes were soft green and every time he stared into your eyes it was as if a soulful moment was exchanged.
Jennifer waved him over to her table. He nodded and slowly walked over to her, barely acknowledging her and sitting down quickly.
“Hello to you too,” Jennifer said, already sensing a diva attitude.
“Hi,” he said coldly.
“So you’re Adam Arlane.”
“Yep.”
“My name’s Jennifer Redding. I work with Baseball Weekly. I’m very excited to be doing the interview Mister Arlane.”
“Ah. Yeah, I guess we should get this over with.”
Jennifer crinkled her lips and shrugged. He was definitely a dick. As she figured, it’s best to stick to sports. “Okay, just to let you know, all statements you say may be used in the interview unless you specifically direct us not to include-”
“Fine, yes, yes.”
“Oookay, just so we’re clear.”
“Crystal.”
“I figured, Mister Arlane, that I would ask you about sports. I know everyone on TV is probably giving you the same old questions. I’m actually a viewer. A fan. I feel as if there is a lot we can talk about.”
“Whatever. Baseball. Life. It doesn’t really matter.”
“Well baseball is your life. I thought maybe we could talk about Game 6. Or maybe…”
“Ehh,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s just talk about life. I know everyone asks me the same questions all the time. But I really hate talking about work. I know to you it’s baseball but to me it’s like bringing my work home with me.”
“Okay. Well in that case, can I ask you where-?”
“I grew up in the Bronx. Like everyone else. Dad was an asshole. Mom was insane. I grew up hanging out in baseball fields because I quickly discovered that playing ball was the only way anyone gave a damn about me. Feel free to clean that up, and put a little spin on it. Then that’ll be identical to every other interview I’ve done. And yes, of course, please throw in the obligatory part about how I date celebrities and am looking for love. Lost puppy dog. Tragic life. Play ball. Win. Who the
hell cares?”
“Well, that’s certainly the abridged version.”
“That’s the only version people want.”
“Are you saying there’s another side to you? There’s another layer?”
“No. I’m probably even more shallow than you’ve heard I am.”
Jennifer nodded, surprised at his honesty.
“Okay then. Game 6. When you stole home, what was going through your mind. Because everyone saw it on TV. Your team was telling you not to try it. Your face was filled with…I don’t know, an emotion I can only describe as rage. What was going through your mind when you made that home run?”
He sighed, so annoyed he could barely look her in the eye. He spent most of his time looking at the ceiling or at the exit door.
“Probably: these guys are pussies. I’m going to risk stealing home. Ohh look at me, I’m stealing home. Woo. Woo.” He stared at her in a fit of droll sarcasm.
Jennifer sighed. “All right. How about we just do the same old questions. With one added tidbit: Adam Arlane is an asshole. Full of himself. Rude as shit. And doesn’t even seem to love the game he plays, let alone respect the women he fucks.”
Adam looked confused and did a backwards shift, trying to understand the angle.
“Hmm. That seems a bit pessimistic.”
“Yeah. I think I got all I need. So please, feel free to run to that door. Do what you want to be doing right now. I think I’m going to go see a movie. I hear that flick ‘Moneyball’ is really good. Thanks.”
“Well…”
Jennifer got up and walked away, not looking back one.
Adam watched her leave in huffing disbelief. He looked around the room and then walked fast to meet her in the shopping mall street.
“Jennifer? Jennifer, was it?”
“You actually remembered my name?”
“Of course. Are you serious about…you know?”
“Hmmm.” Jennifer smiled and didn’t bother looking at him or slowing down. “Does it worry you that much, that people will think less of you?”
“To be honest, no, it doesn’t.”
“So why are you trying to stop me?”
“Because. I admit…” He shrugged and tilted his head. “I was a bit peeved this morning. I’m sorry if I took it out on you. The truth is I really had a bad game yesterday. And the coach ripped me a new asshole over my mistake.”
“I know. I watched it. You hit so many fouls, I was starting to wonder if you were losing your touch. Dinger King.”
He stared back, a little amazed at her brutal honesty.
“But then I said no. He’s just not being used at the right time. They’re bringing you out too early.”
“Well…that’s one way of looking at it. Look, Jennifer…”
“What?”
Jennifer finally stopped walking and looked at him as he patted her on the shoulder.
“I owe you an interview. How about we make a deal. Let’s go to some neutral territory. I don’t talk about baseball. You don’t ask me the same old questions. We find something else.”
“No baseball? No family life?”
“Right.”
“Well…what does that leave? All the sex you’ve had with celebrities?”
“Well…” he laughed. “Not that either.”
“So like…a date? Just talking about life and stuff?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, not to your little editor in chief. But yeah. Just unrehearsed. Something real.”
“Okay then,” Jennifer said with a nod, appreciating the half-hearted attempt he made. It was at least something. At least he wasn’t throwing the game. “So what is neutral territory?”
“How about the planetarium?”
II
“The planetarium? For an interview? Really?” Jennifer asked in discomfort as they made their way into the empty planetarium.
“Yeah. I think growing up I always found this place relaxing.”
“Scientist? Or was that your major in college?”
“No. It first started with me wondering if I could knock a dinger all the way into outer space.”
Jennifer laughed. “And how disappointed were you?”
“Who says I didn’t?”
Adam smiled but didn’t laugh. He wasn’t even fully relaxed yet, more distracted at the simulated stars. But even though he still wasn’t bothering to look into her eyes, he did instantly feel more at peace.
“Serious question. Why do you seem so uncomfortable during interviews? Do you act this way towards everyone?”
“No. I think I just come to the realization that I nothing I say can actually describe how I feel inside.”
“About what? The game or life?”
“The game. Life. It’s all the same thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Life is about slowing things down so that all you’re doing is planning for one game. One moment. Winning is not about being successful in life. Winning is about going from first base, to second, to third and then stealing home. People call planning winning.”
“Sorry to sound corny. But do you get a rush when you play? Is that really what makes it worthwhile to you? You know, besides all the fame and fortune?”
“I don’t really feel the rush anymore. The game is hooked up to my body, like blood, you know. It’s more along the lines of, how do I not screw this up. What would Babe Ruth do. What’s the time? That sort of shit. I wish the game was still fun like it was when I was ten years old.”
“So what does make you happy? Not speaking, of course, of your many sexual conquests.”
“Well,” he laughed. “Not as many as you think. I think in terms of short-term happiness, I’m really happy after a shower. That means the game is done. The world is open to me. I can go to a museum or to the park. No worries. But as far as ever, all time, probably when I was a teenager.”
“Playing ball?”
“No. Just the downtime. After school. Before homework but after baseball practice. Just enjoying the sounds of nature. Watching a show on TV. I know, it’s funny. But sometimes the little things in life are what appeal to me the most.”
“I see,” Jennifer said taking a note on her tablet.
“Put away your notes,” Adam said. “Don’t use any exact quotes. I think journalism is much more interesting if you embellish a little bit. We’re telling stories, right? I took journalism in high school, actually. Teacher said I should be a news reporter. He was really sincere about it too. But my mind was like, so beyond all that, I really didn’t even consider it.”
“Any regrets?”
“Of course not. But I regret the freedom I used to have.”
“Freedom? You have the freedom to do anything you want.”
“Not anything.”
“What, because of your contract with your team?”
“No, just…the whole thing about being famous. You can’t live a normal life anymore. I know people on the outside looking in don’t understand. But imagine never being allowed to make a mistake. Never really knowing how a person feels about you. Always wondering if your name and reputation and the money you make other people is more important than real human emotion.”
“Hmm. I guess we’ll never understand each other.”
Maybe not.”
As other people began trickling into the auditorium, Adam suddenly became uncomfortable. “Let’s get out of here.”
The next stop was the park, though Adam preferred to walk along the most secluded roads, away from the crowds, since predictably someone would ask for his autograph and want to discuss Game 6.
Jennifer noticed that this time, he actually made eye contact with her when she was asking questions. Maybe a little bit of trust had formed. Jennifer enjoyed translating the whole thing to baseball terms. Maybe Adam just liked batting, and so wanted a “pitcher” would could challenge him. He craved challenges in life, and found the idea of soft play condescending.
“Do people make you nervous?�
��
“No. I just find I run out of things to say to most people. In like ten seconds.”
“I can tell. You tried that number with me. And yet, here we are.”
“Well…you’re smarter than the average reporter that I get, to be completely honest.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So…I think since this is date conversation,” Jennifer teased. “You should tell me some off the record stories. You know, about the Hollywood starlets. About the groupies. That’s what everyone wants to know.”
“Sorry. Can’t kiss and tell.”
“Okay…so tell me. Off the record. Won’t tell a soul.”
Adam laughed and met her eyes. She was determined and stared him down. He blinked a thought away and shook his head. “I like playing poker. I think it’s an obsession of mine. It’s probably a good thing that baseball found me. Because I’m not a great poker player. And if you’re not great, you lose a lot of money.”
“I can tell you don’t like that conversation.”
“Come on. No one wants to hear that.”
“Why not?”
“A lot of people got it in their head that I don’t respect women. And stories like these you know…”
“Why would I think that? As long as your relationships are consensual.”
“Yeah but…I don’t think you understand. When women throw themselves at you…it’s kind of you throw your morals to the curb.”
“Try me. What’s the wildest story you have? The kind of stuff not even Penthouse would publish?”
Adam laughed. “So what, if I tell you, are you going to think less of me?”
“No,” Jennifer replied. “I was in college. I’m not that innocent. I’m actually looking forward to you shocking me a little bit.”
Adam laughed and grinned, feeling as if he had been handed a blank check to offend. “Well…”
“First. Who’s the most famous on your hit list?”
“You mean the home run list?”
“Exactly!” Jennifer laughed.
“Well, without any names, for lawsuit reasons. The It Girl. The girl who’s in like…well, THE top grossing movie.”
“You mean…?”
ROMANCE: Stolen by the Alien Lord (BBW Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (Contemporary Science Fiction Paranormal Short Stories) Page 141