by Fiona Murphy
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard the story. You fucked her for so long you got dehydrated. Ever the stud you are.”
“I asked her to marry me. She laughed.” Regina gasps. “She said I was an awesome fuck but she needed more than that. She asked why I had to get all serious, wasn’t I supposed to be a bad boy? Yeah, women wanted to fuck a bad boy but no one wanted to marry one.
“That’s pretty much the same thing Caroline said. All I ever told you guys was she wasn’t interested in doing the long-distance thing when I got traded to New York. I asked her to marry me. I got down on one knee, had the ring and the champagne, the whole thing. Anyway, she laughed. She didn’t mean to, she said, it was a nervous, reflex laugh you do when someone says something so absurd you can’t believe they said it.”
“I’m sorry, Chris. I’m—I don’t even know what to say.”
I shrug. “Nothing to say. I really am over it. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I got over it. Within a few months I was grateful she said no. If she was so easy to get over, then obviously she didn’t mean enough despite what I thought at the time.
“So, I’m good sticking with strippers, with women who are down to fuck and don’t need their hand held, who know what they want. Amelia, she’s doing the right thing, staying in her comfort zone. I should too. It was a nice idea, whatever, it’s not like it would’ve lasted long anyway.”
“I feel like an asshole. I’m really sorry about the crap I said. I don’t think you should give up on Amelia, but I understand why you would.”
“It’s not about giving up, it’s about respecting what she says she wants.”
“Okay. If you say so. Travis and I talked about going up for spring training, but I’m not sure yet. Let me give Pamela another few weeks to see how she does handling the salon on her own. I really want to go for two weeks, but not if I’m going to have a mess to clean up when I get back.”
“All right, just give me a call.”
“Night, Chris. Love you.”
“Love you too, kiddo.”
I end the call. It’s too bad about Amelia—it could’ve been a lot of fun. Oh well, c’est la vie and all that shit.
11
Chris
I’m coming out of the stadium after taking some promo shots. Some of the guys are going for some beer and barbecue to pretend like it isn’t twenty degrees outside. One of the things I’ve loved about this team is how it isn’t all talk—we really are like a family. On the road and at home almost everyone finds time to hang out with everyone else, from barbeques to the bar. There’s no drama or egos on the team; we all get along. I feel like an asshole for turning them down, but I’m just not in the mood to be around people.
I’m also coated in makeup because I looked like shit from the lack of sleep. I got two hours Saturday night and nothing Sunday night; this morning I fell into a light doze for maybe a half hour before my alarm went off. I’m fucking exhausted.
A few reporters are hanging out to catch players. Usually I’m good for a sound bite and a grin. Today, I don’t even acknowledge the shouts of my name. When I get home I’m surprised to find the guy who delivered the vase on Friday waiting on my porch.
“Hey, Mr. Baldwin.”
“Hi, are you okay? You need to come inside for some coffee or something? How long have you been waiting?”
“I’m fine, thanks for asking though. I’ve only been out here about fifteen minutes—I was just about to go wait in my car. No problem, really. I have a package from Ms. Bishop.” He’s smiling ear to ear.
Damn, my chest did not just tighten. I take the electronic pad and sign. I try to give him some cash, but he refuses. The box is a little bigger than the one from Friday. Taking it into my office, I put it down on the ottoman. A simple pull opens the box. Bluebonnets and tulips in a deep red fill the vase. This is a very different vase from the one I gave Amelia, it opens wide and it’s covered in swallows. There’s an envelope in the center of the bouquet. I’m surprised by how thick it is.
My name is on the front of the sealed envelope, and I tear it open. A bright yellow legal notepad torn in half catches my eye first. When I take it out, I see there are four different instant film pictures tied together. A post-it beneath the bow says to read the note first before looking at the pictures. I can’t keep the smile off my face as I open the note.
I’m sorry for saying no when I meant yes. I’m sorry I was willing to use you. I’m sorry I don’t know how this would work, and instead of asking you I got scared. Once Ethan is back, if you’re still interested we could try again.
P.S. The pictures are my way of apologizing. I hope you like them.
I untie the small bow around the four pictures. The first one faces in: Amelia is in a dark red silk slip. Black lace is along the neckline, covering the top of her breasts, while the sight of her hard nipples beneath the silk has my cock standing at attention. In the second picture, she lowered the tiny straps, allowing the slip to fall down to her waist. Her glorious breasts are better than anything I imagined. I ache to taste her, bright pink areolas surrounding tight, thick nipples. I’m fighting not to pull out my cock; I want to see everything. With the next picture I do. The slip is gone, and she’s lying in bed, her skin lightly golden against the pure white of the comforter beneath her. I see the apprehension in her eyes, even as she smiles wide. Closing my eyes, I rub my chest as I think of how much fear she overcame to do this. She doesn’t think she’s beautiful, but she did this for me because I told her she’s beautiful to me.
In the last picture her legs are open wide for me in invitation. Her lips are bare; it’s a surprise for someone with such an air of innocence to be bare. I look closer and I see she’s slick with desire, with me, for me. Finally, she’s mine. Not only does she know it, she wants it.
Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes, but all I can see is the apprehension in Amelia’s eyes. She’s an intelligent woman—she is right to be worried—but she’s worried for the wrong reason. I want all of her, every inch, I’ll take it. Only I’m not sure she’s really ready to give me not just all of her body but her soul too. It’s clear she is trying, might even believe she is but it will take more than a few pictures, it will take her staying with me in the real world through the good and the bad. Is she ready to give up hiding inside stories to live through the good and the bad of the real world?
***
Amelia
For the thousandth time I check my cell phone; nothing. I blink back tears. Chris isn’t going to call. The package was signed for at ten twenty this morning, nine hours ago. When Mary left over an hour ago, she urged me not to give up. I nodded with a smile I’m well aware didn’t fool her. With every hour I felt hope slipping away. Now I finally give in to the tears I’ve been fighting. Why does it hurt so much? I never really had him; god, he never even kissed me. I’m so stupid.
“Amelia.” The sob catches in my chest. I blink, wiping away tears to see Chris in front of me, his hands flat on my desk, bending down only inches from me. A small, sad smile is on his lips. “I’m sorry, sugar. I meant to be here hours ago.” He reaches out, cupping my cheek, and I sigh at his touch as he runs his thumb over my lips. “I haven’t been sleeping well. Today I crashed. Don’t cry—I sure as hell don’t want you crying over me.”
“I was crying because I was stupid. I’m sorry I was stupid. Do you really forgive me?”
Rounding my desk, he pulls me up from my chair. He is so big—at six four combined with his muscular build, I feel tiny against him. “We’ll see. It’s time for us to set terms.” Oh my. His eyes darken with intent. I’m fighting for air. Then he shocks me as he slowly wipes my tears away with the tissues I keep at the edge of my desk. I still at his gentle touch; I have no idea why I fight back new tears. He looks over at the seating area in the corner of my office, then shakes his head. With a small push my chair is moved out of his way. “Hands flat on the desk, your ass up in the air.”
I jump at the harsh command, at the d
isappearance of his slow drawl, how he went from sweet to hard in seconds. Without thinking I do as he says. “I—”
“Not another word.” I tremble as he stands behind me. I never even feel it happen, one moment I’m bent over my desk gasping in need, the next air hits my ass as I realize I’m naked. Chris has pulled down my pants and panties in one move. “Before we continue, you need to pay for the hell you put us both through. You’ll take your spanking, the five you got up to and another five for lying to me and yourself, then the slate is clean. If you want a spanking in the future, you’ll ask for it and I’ll give you what you need. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I gasp as a large, hot hand squeezes my trembling flesh.
“Hmm...I don’t think your ass is presented to me well enough. All the way down across your desk.” I move instantly, wanting to please him. “Much better.” His hand moves to the other round cheek, and he caresses me slowly up then down. “Ten, sugar, count them off.”
I wait, my body tense, only his hand is still caressing me. Then slowly his hand goes lower and lower, and oh god, I squirm as his fingers run over my sex slick with my excitement. Embarrassment sends my head down to the wood of my desk, yet I can’t stop my body from pressing against his fingers, desperately wanting him to do more than run his hands over me. His other hand comes down to the small of my back, pressing me down. A moan comes out of me when his hand slides back up my ass. When the smack comes, I’m shocked by the pain as the sound of his hand meeting my flesh explodes in the room.
“Count it off.” His voice is the texture of gravel.
“One.” I moan. The word is barely out before he sends a smack to my other cheek. Oh god, it sends a vibration to the core of me, causing me to clench deep inside at the emptiness. “Two.” Another smack; my nipples are so tight they hurt, and I rub them against the desk. “Three.” Another smack; my ass is on fire. “Four.” Pain flares hot and bright. “Five.” My body tightens again with the rhythm of his smack. “Six.” It’s too much. “Seven.” I want to beg him to stop. “Eight.” More, the scream is internal from the hot, wet, tight place even as it tightens again and again. “Nine.” I’m coming, no. “Ten.” Again and again my body clenches as I come in a rush of hot sticky need.
I’m floating in a gentle wave. Chris’s hands are running over my bare ass, both of them gently molding, shaping, caressing the flesh. I don’t know what to say; I open my mouth but only a sigh comes out. One large hand goes back to the base of my spine, the other down to where I’m indecently leaking. This time two thick, long fingers slide inside me, only his hand at my back keeps me from pushing against his fingers. “And that, my dear Amelia, is what can happen when you’re honest with yourself about your desires. My, my, my what a pretty picture you are, all flushed from your orgasm. Your pussy swollen, dripping with the essence of you. You look good enough to eat.”
My breath hitches, his name a whisper on my lips. “Chris.”
“I know, sugar, I know. I will, but not tonight. Tonight, we set terms.” The fingers inside me move and oh, oh they find that spot, the one I didn’t even know was there. The spot that is everything ever promised and more. I’ll love Holly forever for the vibrators she sent me. I’m working to ride his fingers because after two swipes they’ve stopped moving. “I’ll tell you right now, the terms aren’t up for debate.
“Your body is mine, all mine, every single inch of you. From your pussy, to this insanely luscious ass I’ll be fucking soon.” He laughs at my gasp, or is it the way my body clenches around his fingers in anticipation? “I love it. I’m guessing this was your body’s response to the threat of a spanking, look how much you liked that. I’ll be deep inside your ass almost as often as I’ll be in your pussy and you’ll love it, you’ll beg for it like you will the next spanking. Your smart little mouth will learn my cock. All of you belongs to me.” The fingers move again, yes, yes, then they stop. “Say it.”
“Yes, please. All of me belongs to you. I’m yours.” I’m rewarded by the fingers moving again. Yes. I groan when they stop.
“No, we aren’t done yet. No more lies, to me or yourself. No trying, no matter what, I don’t give a fuck if you think I’ll like it or not. Lie to me again, expect to face consequences I guarantee you won’t come from.”
I swallow. “No more lies. I promise.”
“Hmm...I didn’t like the pause there. Make me believe it.”
“I swear, no lies. I promise. I’ll never lie to you again.” If he doesn’t ask, then it isn’t a lie.
His fingers move, yes, yes, please. No, I want to scream when they stop. I’m so damn close. “Your time is mine, too. We’ve got about six weeks before I have to head down for spring training. I’ll try to be understanding, but no more of this eight until eight at night bullshit. My place by six thirty, not a minute later.”
“Yes, okay.” I agree even as I fight the stupid tears that appear out of nowhere at his mention of our limited time together.
“What a good girl you are. Would you like to come now, sugar?”
“Please, Chris, please let me come.”
“Since you ask so sweetly.” His fingers move, lightly then more firmly, more please, more. Yes, yes, please, right there. My body bursts apart, spinning me out into nothing.
Vaguely, I’m aware of Chris sliding up my pants and panties before picking me up. Smiling down at me as he carries me to the seating area in the corner of my office. I have a tufted-back rolled-arm sofa in red with matching chairs, custom made from the Pottery Barn. They don’t look comfortable, but I’ve spent the night on them and curled up to read often over the last year. Chris sits, tucking me into his lap. I still can’t look at him. He takes my right hand in his then brings it to his lips, pressing his lips to my fingertips.
I tilt my head, and air comes out of me in a rush. He is so beautiful; sky blue glows down at me. “Thank you.” An eyebrow lifts. “For pushing me to be honest, for not accepting anything less. I’m sorry for being such a wimp. It has been a really long time since I had to work hard for something, and I caved at the first hurdle. Thank you for forgiving me.”
With a shake of his head, a hand slides up my back then around the back of my neck, drawing me up to him. My eyes are wide, unwilling to miss out on the moment. Soft, so soft, yet hot, so utterly hot I gasp at the heat, his full lips brush against mine. He’s teasing me until I open; his tongue slides along my bottom lip before gliding into my mouth. This isn’t the invasion I expected. There is no demand, yet I surrender everything to him. Deeper, until he’s touched my soul, claimed it. All of me is his.
The world blurs until there is only Chris, there is only this moment. I’m not aware of when the kiss ends, our lips are still pressed together as his forehead rests against mine. His air is mine, I breathe him in, all my senses are full with the scent, the taste, the feel of him. Blue, so deep, swirling, glowing. “When is Ethan due back?”
“As of ten this morning, one hundred and eleven hours.”
Chris throws back his head and laughs. The husky sound fills me with a warm mellow heat. “Ah, sugar, I’ve missed you.”
“Really? Even though I’m a pain in the ass.” I know my face is cracking from my smile, but I can’t help it. Chris missed me. I thought I was being a baby for missing him.
“Even though you’re a pain in the ass. Right now, though, you have something else hurting. We need to get out of here before I break every rule and fuck you right here. Dinner?”
Air gets trapped in my chest at the way he groans into my ear. I nod as I rub my head against his. “Mmm...okay, yes.”
“Fuck.” He stands with me in his arms. I feel weightless in his arms, my hands go around his neck. As he lowers me down to the ground I’m not proud of the way I cling to him. “Amelia, I’m trying. I need your help, unless you want me to take you home and do everything I’ve been fantasizing about for the last six days.”
Oh my goodness. He presses into my stomach, and my body immediately reacts by re
leasing wet heat, preparing to take all of him. I’m not sure if I’ll ever stop being surprised by the way my body responds to him. It pulls me out of the dreamy moment. As badly as I want him, it’s not right. Blushing, I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I—”
“I know, sugar, don’t apologize. I’m going to go wait by the elevators, give you some time to get yourself together. I don’t trust myself this close. Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
With a soft kiss to my cheek he lets me go. I watch him until the door closes behind him. Oh fuck, I blink back tears. I love him. It’s not infatuation, it’s not lust—it’s love. Shaking my head, I wipe my eyes. I’m so fucked.
It takes a little while to get cleaned up. Yet when I emerge I find Chris is waiting patiently, leaning against the elevator. The smile he gives me shows off his dimples. He holds out his hand to me, and I don’t hesitate to take it. His large hand around mine feels so very right, then he pulls me into his arms and I’m home.
The world stands still until his lips touch mine. Soft, his lips tease mine, his mouth covers mine, and instantly I’m lost in him, the taste of him, the scent of him. It’s not enough. When he lifts his head, I hate how cut off from him I feel. I run my fingers over his lips. “Okay, after what just happened in my office, we really need to get back on track. I told you, I’m not allowed to have a sexual relationship with clients. We have to stop kissing.”
Chris laughs. “Sugar, sex is raw, primal, wicked, wanton, voracious. Enough isn’t enough until the moment when it feels like you melt together and become one. A kiss isn’t sex.”
“It is when you do it.”
His smile disappears, and he pulls back. Blue swirls, turning into a churning ocean. “You’re fired. I’m done. I can’t wait, not a hundred hours, not two hours.”
I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. Everything has been leading to this moment. I don’t hesitate, I don’t think. “Yes,” I whisper into his mouth as I pull him down to me.