The Curve (Swift Series Book 1)

by Leslie Pike

  He kisses me softly.

  “I’m yours whenever you say.”

  We fall into a breathtaking kiss. His hot lips against mine giving and taking in full measure. Strong hands are on my breasts. A calloused thumb rubbing over my nipples. I feel him start to harden against me. Leaning into his ear, I whisper, “Let me suck you.”

  He rolls over and spreads his legs and I crawl between them. Winding up my hair into a topknot, I sit on my legs and watch his face as he waits.

  My right hand reaches out and gently takes him in my grasp. He’s wet with our juices. Slowly, I move up and down his shaft, turning my wrist as I do. He lets out a moan and pumps inside my grip.

  “I need a minute. First play with yourself for me. I want to watch,” he says.

  Rising to my knees, my hand glides between my breasts, over my stomach and down to my lips, parting them gently so he can have a look. Then I lick my finger and play with my clit. He’s going crazy. I lift my own finger inside and when I do, he raises up and grasps my arms. “Enough. Suck it.”

  We both chuckle at the minuscule amount of time it took to get him ready.

  His perfect cock is sticking straight up, so I lean down, tease the tip with my tongue then open wide and take him in. It’s a mouthful. I make it almost to the bottom but feel my gag reflex, so my lips seal over him and I pull back. Now it’s hand and mouth, sucking, licking, stroking.

  He’s lost in the scene, lying back against the pillows, groaning his approval and looking like a god being worshipped. His hips are lifting with the action, meeting my mouth, fucking my mouth. I love it. His knees come up and spread as far as possible trying to give me unfettered access. I use my right hand to play with his balls. Lightly, the tips of my fingers tease him from taint to shaft. Then I lick and suck his balls. He makes a sound like a wild animal.

  In one smooth move he pushes back my shoulders then rolls me under him like a lion trapping a rabbit. There’s a beast behind his eyes as he uses his knees to spread my thighs and without hesitation puts his steel cock against my lips. I wrap my legs around his back and he pushes in. Oh my God. He starts fucking me hard, his eyes darker now with passion.

  “I’m gonna fuck you…fuck you…fuck you till you’re sticky and screaming!”

  He pounds his cock into me.

  And so we become a wild untamed thing, without control, with nothing forbidden.

  Our breathing has finally resumed its normal pace as we lie side by side on the bed.

  “My pussy’s broken!”

  We start laughing.

  “You? I think I bent my dick! Look, there’s a mark! I’m maimed.”

  I raise on an elbow and take a gander. “Is that a boo boo I see?”

  Quickly he covers himself. “Don’t you dare kiss it.”

  “Coward.”

  Rolling onto his stomach he uses a finger to trace the outline of my lips. “How about you stay at my place tonight? And tomorrow night.”

  I stare into his glorious eyes and wish I could answer yes. “I can’t. I have a child, you know.”

  He looks at me with understanding. Even though he has no experience with children or their mother’s issues, I feel an empathy.

  “I happen to know she’s staying with Paige’s family for the weekend. Brick told me.”

  He’s not pressing me, but just stating his case.

  “Let me think for a minute.”

  “Don’t you want to?”

  His face is so adorable when he says it. It’s so sincere.

  “More than you know. But I’m not used to being spontaneous. I stay awake at night thinking out every big decision I make.”

  “Let me be the one who keeps you up at night.”

  How can I fight that? “Okay, Atticus. Yes, I’ll stay with you.”

  Suddenly we hear the distant sounds of the partygoers oohing and awing their reactions. Atticus springs up.

  “The fireflies! We need to shut off the lights and the music. I’ll do it.”

  As he gets off the bed and bends over to find the nearest uplight, my eyes go to his fine ass. “What’s that?” I say.

  “What?”

  “Is that a tattoo under your left cheek between your legs?”

  He straightens and gives me a big smile. “No tattoo. Would you like a closer look?”

  I press my lips together. He starts laughing. “That embarrasses you?”

  “Shut up,” I laugh.

  Walking up to me, he turns around. “It’s my birthmark. Come look.”

  I move to the edge of the bed, so I can run my fingers over the perfect deep purple heart, then I kiss it. He looks over his shoulder. “My heart belongs to you now.”

  I look up and he turns toward me. “This one,” he says putting a hand over his heart.

  Mine skips a beat with the words. And then he takes me in his arms.

  “I know this is quick, but it feels true.”

  “You’re scaring me…but I like it,” I say.

  “Good. Now let’s watch the fireflies.”

  The music’s turned off, along with all the lights. Blackness envelopes us. We prop ourselves on the pillows and get under the sheet and light blanket. Waiting and watching in silence in his arms is a good thing. Not only so the fireflies show, but for me to think things through. In the space of one night I’ve fallen hopelessly and totally for a man who’s obviously wrong for me.

  He’s known for being a player.

  He’s inexperienced with kids.

  But, what’s right about him is more compelling.

  He’s kind and good.

  He’s fair.

  He treats Mallory with respect.

  He listens when I talk, and from what I’ve seen hardly ever acts like the star athlete he is.

  He’s romantic.

  I think he invented the word. And I’m convinced he’s never been this way with any other girl. I’m either the most gullible woman in the world, or the luckiest.

  “Look, Charlotte!” he whispers.

  Through the trees, in the inky darkness the light show begins. At first it’s just a few short sparks. The flickers are deep in the forest and I catch them out of the corners of my eyes. Then the numbers grow, and the spectacle becomes unmistakable: fireflies, hundreds of them, the pulsing of their tiny lanterns, synced together perfectly. The flashing appears to come in sets. Six I think, then darkness. Another six and darkness again. Then the flashes are everywhere.

  “It’s called rhythmic bioluminescence,” he whispers.

  “Are they mating?”

  “It’s their ritual. The males are trying to attract the females.”

  “And they dance in unison!” I say, mesmerized by nature’s spectacle.

  The twinkling rises, crests and falls, from one side of the trees to the other. It’s like a waterfall or wave of lights. I’m enchanted.

  There’s a kind of serenity that surrounds us as we walk out of the forest and across the lawn. He’s smiling, I’m smiling, and we’re holding hands like teenagers in the throes of puppy love. Only this is no shallow pool of emotions. It’s the deep end.

  Up ahead, the party’s winding down. The D.J.’s playing “Unchained Melody”, Lucinda and Boone’s song, as they move gracefully around the dance floor. They’ve got it all to themselves. The way they’re holding each other makes me think that’s how they like it. Only one group of people still sit at a table, and it’s the Swifts. They’re laughing.

  “Leave it to my family. They’ll outlast anybody.”

  “What time is it?”

  He looks at his cell. “Three ten.”

  “Four hours. You’re quite a man.”

  He puts an arm around my shoulders. “That was all your doing. I was inspired.”

  “Where the hell did you two go?” Ken’s voice carries as we approach the group.

  I look at Atticus, he looks at me. Both of us are trying to come up with a good answer. But it doesn’t matter because every single person at the table know
s exactly what we’ve been up to. Knowing grins show up on each face.

  “Never mind, I retract the question,” Ken says raising a hand.

  Lucinda and Boone spot us and cut short their dance and head for the table.

  Brick and his date, a classy-looking redhead, are still together. It’s clear he’s had a good time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much. I know the night’s alcohol consumption hasn’t hurt any of us.

  “We’re gonna head out,” Atticus says.

  “What?” Brick says as he gazes through bloodshot blue eyes. “You just got here.”

  He says it loudly which is out of character.

  “You’re drunk, brother,” Atticus answers. “Holly, you’re gonna drive,” he says to Brick’s date.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure your big brother makes it home,” says Janine.

  Everyone’s staring but nobody’s wondering what we’re up to. Bristol and her date, Brick and his, and Ken and Janine look like they’re waiting for details, and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to ask. Fortunately, Lucinda and Boone save us.

  “Did y’all have a good night?” Boone says.

  “It was great, Daddy,” Bristol sighs.

  “What about you, Miss Charlotte? Did you have fun?”

  “I had a wonderful time. Thank you so much for such a beautiful party.”

  Lucinda takes her husband’s arm. She blows kisses to the last stragglers. “We’re off to bed, children. Remember brunch tomorrow is at eleven. Is that too early for anyone?”

  Everyone’s agreeable except for Atticus who speaks up. “I’m not sure we’re gonna make it, Mom. Start without us.”

  Brick and Bristol start the teasing. Then Ken joins in. If I’m not blushing now, I never will be.

  “Why? What’re you gonna be doing that’s more important than Grandma Birdie’s brunch?” says Brick, blowing out a perfect cigar ring.

  “We’re going to swing by at nine and pick you two up,” Bristol adds.

  “Stop teasing your brother and Charlotte!” Lucinda orders. Turning to me she adds, “Just ignore them and do whatever you’ve got planned. There’ll be other brunches.”

  She touches my arm and gives a wink. I think I love this family.

  When the door to his Penthouse opens, I’m stunned. Never have I seen anything like this. Two-story glass walls overlooking the Memphis skyline. From here I can see the spa and infinity pool with dark water, looking as if you’d swim right off the roof.

  He lets me walk ahead and take in the wonder of this place.

  “This is spectacular, Atticus. My god.”

  He places his keys and cell in a bowl by the front door and comes up behind me. I feel his strong arms slip around me and then the warm kiss on my neck. “Let’s get in bed. I’ll give you the tour tomorr...later today.”

  “I need a shower. There’s forest all over me.” I giggle.

  “Leave it. We’ll shower together when we wake up. Come on,” he says taking my hand and leading me toward the bedroom. “I want to fall asleep with you. Wanna spoon?”

  My heart melts into a puddle of happiness. I follow.

  Walking into the bedroom I’m almost bowled over by the luxury and size of it. He chose colors close to mine, everything in shades of grey and white with accents of black. I could fit ten of my bedrooms inside this one sprawling space. The view is even more impressive than the living room. There’s a fireplace and a sitting area with a huge television and a soft wide chaise. The bed is to die for. Simple lines, big soft pillows, nicer bedding than I’ve ever seen.

  “You did a great job. This bedroom!”

  “You think you could be happy here?”

  He snuck that comment in as if it’s just a casual thought, and I have no idea how to answer.

  “Who couldn’t?” I say.

  “Come with me,” he says walking to the double doors across the room.

  “Is that the king’s red room?” I tease.

  He opens both doors. “It’s my closet.”

  Talk about jaw-dropping. “This looks like the most exclusive men’s store in New York.”

  He starts undressing. My eyes follow the lines of the room. The rich ebony wood of the drawers and shelves and tall cupboards. At least a hundred pairs of tennis shoes take up wide shelves on the right while dress shoes and every other type of shoe lines the left.

  In the center of the room is a long leather tufted bench where Atticus sits removing his shoes and socks.

  “It’s pretty awesome, I know,” he says.

  “It’s a dream.”

  He points behind where I stand. “There’s an extra white robe there in front.”

  I look where it hangs and instantly know I’ll never wear it. I don’t want to be one of who knows how many women that have worn Atticus Swift’s extra robe.

  He sees the look on my face. “What?” he says.

  “Could I wear one of your shirts? I’d prefer that.” My voice is a tad clipped.

  He places his shoes on the shelf and comes to me. “You know what you are, Charlotte? Hellfire and holy water.” He chuckles. “You can use whatever you’d like. But just so you know, no one else has ever worn the robe. I bought it for you.” He smiles that golden-boy smile and every bit of my annoyance evaporates.

  Lifting my hands to his face, I run my fingers over his lips. “I’ve never kissed such a perfect mouth. Never felt such soft lips. And no matter what happens from here on, you’ll always be the best time I ever had.”

  The way he’s looking in my eyes is beyond anything I’ve ever felt.

  “Let’s get in bed,” he says.

  We remove our clothes and I grab the robe as we leave. He’s walking naked to the bed, so I will too. He pauses when we’re halfway there and lets me move in front of him. I know exactly what he’s doing, so I give my ass a shake.

  “That’s by far the finest ass I’ve ever seen,” he says.

  “You’re crazy. It’s just an ass.”

  He huffs out a, “No it isn’t.”

  I take the compliment with a chuckle.

  We pull back the blanket and sheet on each side and climb inside. Ohhh, this bedding.

  “Heaven. This feels like heaven.”

  Opening his arms, he calls me in. “Turn over. Get in here.”

  I follow his lead as he shuts off the lights. Hazy city lights glimmer through the gossamer two-story curtains. I snuggle right into the shape of his glorious body. “We fit,” I say softly.

  For a minute or so it’s just the quiet darkness, and then he speaks. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Yes,” I say sleepily.

  “I want us to last.”

  My eyes pop open.

  Never have I been more awake.

  7

  Atticus

  She’s the curveball I wasn’t expecting. One pitched so skillfully I didn’t see it till it had already changed the game. Confidence has never been in short supply for me. More than anything I was sure I knew what made me happy. Hell, I knew it young. And never have I wanted a permanent relationship. That seemed like the fastest way to fuck everything up.

  I liked being balls deep in a different girl whenever the mood struck me. It was great planning my days and nights according to my schedule and no one else’s. Even time spent alone was good, eating in bed, watching sports and farting freely. The male trifecta.

  You’re only young once, and I’ve made the best of it. But something’s changed. My father always says life’s one big puzzle, where seemingly random pieces fit together seamlessly. Think he’s got a point.

  I’m beginning to see a lot of things differently because of Charlotte. The world around me, my definition of happiness, even myself.

  There’s a hundred little things she’s made of that I find I can’t live without. Like how it feels when she sighs my name against my shoulder, or when her feet brush against mine under the sheets. And how she tastes when her lips steal the end of my sentences.

>   There’s something poetic about the woman. How was I to know that’s a quality I’d be able to identify let alone prize?

  We talk a lot. For hours sometimes, about our lives, Mallory, baseball. About everything and anything. Life slows to a crawl as we just sit and talk. It’s unbelievable how I’m beginning to forget what it was like before she was in my life. And it’s only been two months since I first saw her across that crowded room.

  I’ve got it bad.

  Today will be interesting. With Charlotte having to work, Mallory’s my date to the pool party. Paige is coming with Brick, so she’ll have another friend there. I told her we could bug out any time we wanted. Endorsement clients always throw good parties, trying to show off the athlete they’ve signed as their spokesperson, and Midas Pizza’s up today.

  Mallory and I like to bust each other’s chops, but we’re kind of kindred spirits. The tenderness I feel for her is genuine, and if we would have met under different circumstances, without Charlotte by her side, I would have come to the same conclusions about her character.

  There’s some similarities between us. Neither likes any kind of bullshit, not from other people or ourselves. We find the same things laughable. We’re realists. We don’t put up with fools, or find humor taken at another’s expense.

  I think we’ve relaxed into our relationship. It’s not overstating things to say we’re friends. But the only experience I have as an adult relating to a thirteen-year-old girl is as a sports celebrity. That hardly counts. And she’s never been around other men in her mother’s life. So we go slow, coming carefully toward each other.

  As I’m walking up to Charlotte’s apartment, I see Mallory peeking out the curtains. They close and a moment later the door opens.

  “Hi,” she says stepping out and closing the door behind her.

  She carries a tote bag and she’s wearing a cute short sleeveless dress.

  “Hi. Like your dress. Looks pretty.”

  She comes by my side as we walk back to the car.

  “Mom made it for me.”

  “Got your suit?”

  “I’m wearing it under the dress. But I may not go swimming. We’ll see.”