by Selena Kitt
“Can you start with my neck?” he asked, scratching at it. “I feel so fucking gross.”
“Sure.”
She tried to be clinical about it, swirling the tiny soap bar over his neck and shoulder. But then she had to rub it in to make sure it was doing its job. And while she was there, she figured she should give the poor guy a bit of a massage, thinking he probably needed it. He’d had a rough couple of days and was destined for another rough one in the back of her car.
His breath came out in a hiss as she worked her thumbs into the tight knots in his back and down the column of his spine. “When you touch me like that, it makes me think you want me to live to see another day.”
She couldn’t help but to chuckle.
She watched the water sluice down his strong back and fork at his hips. Some of it followed the mold of his ass to the crease, and her fingertips traced down to it instinctively, going where the water was.
He glanced over his shoulder and then up at her.
Busted.
Cheeks burning, she concentrated on finishing the job, scrubbing with the washcloth until he gently gripped her wrist and held her hand still at the base of his back.
“Feeling much cleaner now, though I won’t stop you if you’d like to polish up the rest of me.”
She cleared her throat and draped the cloth over the tub side. “You’re on your own with that.”
“It’d go faster if you did it. It’s taking all the energy I have just to stay upright at the moment. This angle sucks.”
“Maybe you should stick to sponge baths until you get that cast cut off.”
“Might have to. Or else really dry showers. Since you’re there, though…” He shifted somewhat so the cloth dropped and his cock sprang up.
Normally, she might have scoffed and walked away, but she felt like she was being challenged. She’d inherited enough of her father’s competitiveness that she couldn’t let it stand. She needed to act or…tell him off or something.
She dragged her tongue across her dry lips and pinched up the washcloth. She dipped it into the bath and wrung it out, letting the water stream down Al’s belly and thigh. Try as she might to pin her gaze to anything but his crotch, her eyes kept shifting toward it, and she couldn’t un-see what was there.
Oh my God.
Al shifted a bit more, putting his back against the tub wall and thrusting his hips forward.
“How dare you?” she muttered.
“What?”
Be so perfect. Edy closed her eyes and suppressed a whimper. If she had a preferred body type for men, Al would probably be it. She was under no illusions the reverse would be true. Just because she’d finally allowed herself the permission to be comfortable with who she was didn’t mean that other people had to agree.
She swished the cloth down over his belly, then lower, pausing at the top of his pubic bone.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ve never known you to be the hesitant type.”
“This is…” Do it or not. No excuses. So the question was did she want to? He seemed to want her to, and that surprised her.
She dragged the washcloth down the length of his thick shaft and circled it around the base, watching his belly quiver with each gentle caress.
“Feels good,” he whispered, and then his lips were there at the crook of her neck, caressing more than kissing.
She sucked in some air and tightened her grip around his shaft. Hard and long, it was a cock worth paying attention to. His lips were worth paying attention to as well, though, and she found herself leaning into him, insinuating her neck and breasts nearer to him for his touch and welcoming the nuzzle of his facial scruff against the skin above her neckline.
“Been dying to touch you,” he whispered.
“For how long?”
“Since the first time I saw you.”
“You’re full of it, Felton.” She rubbed up and down his weighty girth, pulling a hiss from him, and making her own thighs clench in response to his shallow thrusts into her fist.
“Don’t call me Felton,” he said breathily. “All those assholes on the team call me Felton. I’ve got a name.”
“Tell me what it’s short for.”
He put his head back against the tiles yet again and let out a breath. “Don’t pick on me, Edy.”
“I’m not going to pick on you. It’s not like I have room to talk.”
“Why not?”
She raised an eyebrow at him and let the washcloth fall to the bottom of the tub. “What do you think Edy is short for?”
He sucked in some air as she trailed her fingertips down the dark trail of hair between his navel and shaft.
She usually liked men who were a little furrier, but there was definitely some appeal to Al’s well-groomed body. She could probably take him into her mouth, kiss and suck and not have to scrape the hairy evidence from her tongue immediately afterward.
In fact, she wanted to try and see. She wanted to put her mouth on him and torture him with her tongue, her teeth. She was good at it, and that wasn’t bragging. Just honest truth. It was just one of a few ways she wrested control in the bedroom.
But this is Felton.
She winced. Al, rather.
Sighing, she grabbed a towel from the back of the toilet and thrust it toward him. “I think you’re clean enough now.”
“Don’t be a tease, Edy.”
“Who’s teasing? You’re the one who called me in here with the explicit purpose of having me see you. Don’t tell me otherwise. Save your breath.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I did. Maybe I do want you to see me and pay a little attention to me.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I just want to repay you for driving me home.”
“Or maybe you’re just a horndog and can’t go six weeks without being touched.”
“If that’s what you want to believe, fine. I know I’m not going to convince you otherwise. A ho can’t change his ways, right?”
“My father certainly didn’t. At least, not until he gave up playing baseball. Do you know how many bastard children he has?”
Al furrowed his brow.
Edy laughed. “Of course you don’t. He probably doesn’t even know. That’s the reason why there’s no Mrs. Wallace, you know. My mother filed for divorce when I was three because he brought home a sister for me.”
Al draped the towel over his hips. “What?”
She pulled the plug on the tub to let the water out. “Apparently, he thought that was the best way to go about telling her there might be a mistress or two coming out of the woodworks someday. She wasn’t going to fly off the handle with a baby right there, you know?”
“Holy shit. That’s how he did it?”
“Yeah. I’m sure it would have been awkward for Leelah if she hadn’t been one and completely oblivious.”
“I had no idea. Lee never said anything. She’s so nice to him.”
“Yeah, she actually shows up for the games without being asked. She’s pleasant to all the players and always has great ideas for the management staff. But the truth is, she shows up because she knows it makes Pop feel guilty. She’s passive-aggressive that way, and I can’t really say I blame her. She had a pretty rough start to life. Her mother didn’t want to raise her alone, and of course Pop was never home. Lee bounced around a lot until my mother got frustrated with the situation and took her in.”
“Damn.” Al raked a hand through his wet hair and let out a breath. “I didn’t know that was what had happened. But, look. I’m sorry Wallace had shit for brains when he was younger and did a lot of stupid things. Some pro athletes are like that, but not all.”
“You’re right. On the rare occasion that they’re not, the press lauds them for being holy saints and think that every winning game is due to their piety. I know how it goes, Al. Good or bad. There’s no in-between, is there?”
“Of course there is. You just don’t want to see it.”
“If it’s there, show it to
me.”
He said nothing as he slowly climbed off the tub ledge and wedged his crutches under his arms. “You don’t want to see it.”
She shrugged and left Al to the bathroom. “Maybe I don’t.”
Chapter 6
Edy hadn’t said anything in the hour since she’d stopped for gas, and Al was running out of specks of lint to stare at on her car’s ceiling.
He had a bit of a headache—a side effect from the painkillers—and couldn’t stare at his phone screen to entertain himself without getting nauseated. He was afraid if he asked her to turn the radio on that she’d bite his head off. Hell, he couldn’t even look out the window from that shitty angle and didn’t want to risk sitting up. She’d probably kill him if he caused her to get a ticket. Wallace would probably take forever to reimburse her for it.
So, he closed his eyes and hoped for sleep. Sleep trumped boredom any day of the week.
Surprisingly, he was already drifting off when moments later Edy slammed on the brakes. His horizontal body lurched forward, and his cast bumped the side of the front seat.
“Fuck!” he yelled.
The shooting pain that whipped through his body was so bad he nearly pissed. That would have certainly endeared him to Edy all the more—wetting himself in her car and giving her yet another mess to clean up.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry,” Edy said, and steered the car into a hard right slant—probably changing lanes. “This guy didn’t get over in time and there was construction coming up in his lane. Instead of merging in, he sped up and cut in front of me. Nearly hit my damn mirror.”
“Well, that’s good. I thought maybe you were trying to murder me by heart attack.”
“I think your heart is probably stronger than that.”
“Let’s not try to find out, ’kay?” He closed he eyes and risked twisting his leg a bit to see if there were any new pains in it. It felt about the same, but he’d probably change his mind about it once his painkiller dose wore off.
Groaning, he laced his fingers together behind his head. “Are we driving straight through to Baton Rouge?”
“To be honest, that wasn’t my plan, originally. I’d booked a night at a lakeside campground I hadn’t been to before. The weather is supposed to be nice for camping tonight.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
“You’re just going to be miserable.”
“More so than I am now? Come on. Either I go home and stare at my television until I can get an appointment to see my doctor, or I antagonize you with my grossness. One sounds much more fun than the other.”
She laughed. “Fun for you maybe.”
“Worried my grossness might be contagious? I’ll have you know that nothing I’ve got at the moment is communicable.”
“You got some paperwork to prove that?”
“Actually, I do. It’s from about six weeks ago, but I don’t imagine much has changed in that time.”
“Whatever.”
“For real. So…how ’bout it? I won’t even ask for an extra blanket.”
“But you’ll probably want to eat something, and later on, be escorted to the bathroom where I’ll have to wait outside the stall to make sure you can navigate back to the car.”
“Well, you do have a point there. If I promise to hold it, will that help?”
“Really, Al? You’re gonna hold your piss for like eighteen hours?”
“Nah. Probably not. If it comes down to it, I’ll just hobble to the trees and handle my business amongst the green things.”
“See, you are gross.”
“Whatever. Don’t act like you haven’t done it. You tent camp, don’t you?”
“Sometimes, but…”
“Ha! Don’t even try to shape that lie, lady. Don’t form it on your lips or let it slip off your tongue. You’ve squatted in the woods.”
“Perhaps. But it was…daintily.”
“You take dainty pisses?”
She hit the radio knob and muttered something indecipherable under her breath.
“Speak up, honey. I can’t hear you back here in the cheap seats.”
“I said I’m never taking you camping. I bet you were the kid at sleep-away camp who made everyone miserable.”
“Me? Nah. Once I hit the sheets, I was out like a light. Heavy sleeper, even when I’m not on painkillers. I certainly wasn’t gonna waste my time being a dick when I had so many folks watching me.”
“What do you mean?”
He scoffed and pushed up onto his elbows to better meet her eye contact in the rearview mirror. “My family is old-school Southern, girl. It didn’t matter if one of my friends got me in trouble; it was all on me, as far as my family was concerned. If I stepped one foot out of line, just the whisper about it would travel through space and time and somehow manage to get tattled to the entire church before it got back to my folks. And then, not only would I catch hell from my parents, I’d get it from both grandmas and one granddaddy. Trust me, being a little shit wasn’t worth it for me.”
“Are you telling me you were actually a good kid?”
“Why do you make that sound like past tense?” he asked.
He caught the lift of her eyebrow in the mirror. “Hey!”
“You’ve got a reputation, Al. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“What kind of shit do folks say about me?”
She shrugged. “All of you are caught up in it. Maybe one day it’ll be you. The next Cameron. Sometimes Theo. The whole damned team. With that much talk, I’d be silly if I didn’t think some of it wasn’t true.”
“Whatever you heard about Cameron probably is true. He is what he is.”
“A womanizing man-ho?”
Al winced. He hated talking about the guy behind his back, but maybe clearing the air one person at a time wasn’t such a bad idea. “He’s monogamous.”
“Okay, then he’s a serial dater. Just because he’s monogamous doesn’t mean he’s committed. Go on and defend the honors of the rest of them, though. Lemme hear what excuses you have for them.”
Again, he winced. There were no excuses to make for some of his teammates. Some were specifically in the sport so they could travel and meet women. Seemed a reasonable enough endeavor for men who had a lot of testosterone but not necessarily a whole lot of common sense.
“I’m waiting, Al. What hell is Al short for, anyway? You keep beating around the bush.”
“No I don’t. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” He flattened his arms and put his head down.
Dizzy. Gotta get off these pills.
“I’ll tell ya. I gotta make the disclaimer that it’s a family name, though,” he said.
“You mean that old-school, Southern family you mentioned.”
“Right.”
“Okay. I’m suitably braced. Tell me.”
“Tell me what Edy is short for first. The name can’t be nearly as interesting as mine.”
“Actually, it’s pretty boring. I was named after a lady who used to babysit my mother when she was a little girl. Her name was Edith.”
“Ahh, well, that’s certainly not a name people have anymore.”
Edy sighed.
“I’m not being critical or anything. I mean, hell, no one has my name, either.”
“I find that hard to believe. Allen? Albert? Alistair? Alder? Alton? Those names aren’t exactly uncommon. I could think of one of each right off the top of my head—guys I’ve headhunted.”
He clucked his tongue and laced his fingers behind his head. “Way off track, honey. If it were one of those things, I’d have it printed in my player bio. My Wikipedia page has the correct name, though.”
“You have a Wikipedia page?”
“Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not the one who set it up. Everyone on the Olympic team had an entry. My bio was actually more or less correct except for a few minor details my ex-girlfriend fixed.”
“What kinds of details?” came Edy’s strained voice.
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He picked up his head to see if maybe some other asshole had cut her off, but as far as he could tell, the road was clear in both directions. Huh. He lay back down. “Well, she was the one who fixed my name and added all the petty details about which prep school I went to and all that garbage.” He chuckled. “Also added a mention of herself as my significant other.”