by Becca Taylor
“I’ll pick you up this time. Do I get to pick the movie?” she asks sweetly.
“Lady’s choice.”
“Good night. And thanks for the ride, Big Boy.”
To keep myself seated, I grip my handlebars tight. If I follow her, we’d head straight for her bedroom. She opens the front door, blows me a kiss, and walks inside. I’m left with a hard-on and wonder why I chose to stay on my bike and didn’t walk her to the door.
THERE’S MUCH MORE to my life than just men. For instance, sports are a huge part of my life. My parents had me join any and every activity they could from birth. I love them all: swimming, basketball, soccer, field hockey, dance team, and cheerleading. My two favorites being baseball and football. My career choice is based on that love. My diploma states that I have Doctorate of Sports Medicine with a minor in Sports Massage Therapy.
The funny thing is I don’t tell many people that.
My father is a heart surgeon, my grandfather is a retired cardiologist, and my great-grandfather was a general practice physician. Since I’m an only child, I was expected to follow in the footsteps of my family. My mom was a teacher until she had me. She became my teacher and homeschooled me. That was one reason I didn’t date. I graduated high school at the age of fifteen, far younger than any child should, and was deemed the nerdy girl. I completed my first few years of college online and fast-tracked. By the time I started my medical program at college, I was eighteen. Most students were working on their required courses, but I was surrounded by people four years older than I was.
When I met my best friends, I was doing my residency. They assumed I was still in college. The only people who attended my graduation were my parents, which they forced me to attend. I was twenty-five, and they were still half running my life. It was part of the reason that I finished my schooling in Florida. Away from them. I needed space.
I don’t flaunt my degree. To me, it’s just a fancy title that I don’t use much. To my friends, I’m a massage therapist. I love my job. I run my own business, make my own hours, and don’t have to sit in an office all day. The clients I have are loyal and great at recommending me to other friends. Every once in a while, if someone calls out, I fill in at a local spa where I worked during summer breaks from school.
My whole life was about following a schedule: be the best and work harder because hard is not good enough. My parents made sure I stuck to those rules. Back then, I didn’t think it was a bad thing. It was my normal. Now that I’m in my late twenties, I want to have fun, be free, and experience the life I didn’t get to while I was in school. This is why I don’t settle down. Right now, I want to experience the life I missed out on. I finally get to live by my own rules.
Everything is about to change, though. A friend from college, Brielle, called me about a month ago. She has been working as a sports massage therapist for a major league baseball team that trains not too far from here. Now, she’s married and having a baby. I was the first person she called to tell about the job position, offering to arrange an interview for me.
An hour ago, I received the callback for a second interview for the Florida Sunrays tomorrow. The first one was an easy phone conversation with the team manager. I dig through my closet to find my most professional outfit—a pair of pinstripe pants and a sleeveless white top. I’m sure I purchased them when I was doing a rotation in college, but it will do.
To give myself plenty of time to beat the traffic, I get up early in the morning. The plan is to meet Brielle for breakfast. She said she’d give me a tour of the complex and the therapy room afterward. Before I head out, I double check myself in the mirror and twist my hair into a chignon. My look is stylish and gives me the extra boost of confidence I need.
In the car, I go over the questions that Brielle told me they asked her. I plan all my responses to be what I know they want to hear yet stay true to me. I’ll tell them how my career will always come first, that I will always have the players’ best interests in mind, and that I’ll always treat each member of the team with respect while maintaining a professional relationship at all times.
Brielle is sitting in the booth at the fifties throwback diner we decided to meet at. When she stands, my eyes immediately fall on her round stomach. We share a quick hug hello and sit to order.
“You look great,” she says to me.
“And you look pregnant.”
Brielle lovingly pats her stomach and laughs.
She fills me in on all that has been going on with her life while I tell her about what I’ve been doing in my free time. I try to glaze over her questions about a man in my life because it seems wrong to talk about my sex life with a married woman. Keeping the conversation on the job and reminiscing about our college years seems safer.
After we finish breakfast, I follow her to the stadium where the team is out on the practice field. We walk down the corridor to the locker rooms, and she gives me a tour of the facility. Every piece of equipment looks state of the art and in excellent condition, exactly as I suspected. But my focus will be in the massage area. It’s equally impressive with top-of-the-line tables and whirlpools. A man approaches the two of us; he shakes Brielle’s hand first.
“Mr. Ellis, this is Alexia O’Mally.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. O’Mally. Let’s go to my office and get started, shall we?”
Brielle mouths, “Good luck.” As I follow Mr. Ellis to another room, I give her an ‘I got this’ look. We had already gone over my resume and qualifications during the phone interview. This round is more about what is expected of me, and to see if I mesh well with the staff that is already in place. He wants to make sure that I know this is a temporary position. The end of the season is approaching, and I’d only be filling in while Brielle is out on maternity leave. But if all goes well, it could lead to something permanent. After the interview, he stands and shakes my hand.
“I’ll give you a call in a few days and let you know my decision.”
The next day, I get the call with the offer. Starting next week, I’ll be mirroring Brielle to learn everything about the players. Mr. Ellis had me sign the non-disclosure agreement yesterday at the office, and today, he emailed me a list of all the players. It contained all the necessary information: their status, all past and current injuries, and their current therapy regimen. By Friday, I feel like I need a break from the studying.
I WORK AT Butter My Bread until just after one. Afterward, I head straight to the job site and have been laying tile ever since. My knees are numb, my back feels like I’ll never be able to stand straight, and I’m covered in sweat. The crew and I managed to finish the living room and kitchen area. Tomorrow, we plan to finish the bedrooms, and if there’s enough time, the bathrooms. Even though I’m hurting, I feel a sense of accomplishment.
I take an extra-long shower to get the day’s grime off my body. Lexi should be here in an hour, giving me plenty time to sit outside and drink a beer. She pulls into the driveway just as I am finishing up. Tonight, she’s wearing what looks like a simple sundress. The front hugs every curve of her body. It’s short, dangerously short, but has some effect that it drops lower in the back. The top dips, showing the perfect amount of cleavage, just enough to drive me crazy. When I get closer, I notice the rest.
The back of the dress has a strip down the middle. When she lifts her arm, I get a view that makes me want to rip the dress off her. The sides of her perfect tits are in plain view to anyone. I want to slide my hands under that material and play with her pink nipples that I can see growing harder as I stare her down. This dress is not simple at all; it’s downright lethal.
“Ready for me to take you for a ride this time, Big Boy?”
I noticeably groan at her words, while Lexi gives me a knowing smirk. I open the driver’s side door for her first. The walk to the other side gives me time to adjust myself. She drives a hot little convertible that suits her to a T. Silver and sleek, this sucker can fly.
“Nice car,” I tell her
.
“It was a birthday present from my dad.”
“That’s one heck of a present. You must have been a good girl to deserve this.”
She shifts and heads out into traffic. Nothing is sexier than a woman who knows how to drive a stick.
“I’m always a good girl.”
She drives us to an upscale movie theater. The kind that has big comfy reclining seats, offers food and drinks, and is so clean you could eat off the floor. I let her pick the movie; she chooses an action-packed movie based on a comic book.
We make our way to the concession stand, where Lexi orders a ton of snacks for us to share. I grab a couple of beers for me, the small wine she picked out, and a water. I lead Lexi to the last row, and we settle in the middle seats. She takes her box of caramel covered in chocolate and pours them into the bag of popcorn. I raise my eyebrow at her.
“You’ve never done that before, have you? Don’t knock it until you try it. It’s the best of both worlds, salty and sweet.”
She grabs a few pieces of popcorn and chocolate together, pops them in her mouth, and moans. The second time she does it, I grab her wrist. Pulling her hand to my mouth, I take the food from her fingers. Her eyes close, and her lips part as I lick the butter from her fingers.
“Delicious. I’ll never eat popcorn any other way now.”
As the previews begin, I place my arm around the back of her chair. It’s a natural instinct. Lexi lifts the armrest between us, bringing her body closer to mine. She leans across my body and hits the button to recline my seat. The footrest lifts while the back lowers just enough that I am slightly leaning back. With her body across mine, I want to take her right here. The nearest person is four or five rows ahead of us. I wouldn’t even have to remove her dress. Without anyone knowing, I could pull her legs across mine, push her dress up a little, move her panties to the side, and slide right in.
“Down, Big Boy,” Lexi says as she moves back into her seat.
She lowers her seat to match mine. I curl her back against my body. She drinks her wine while I drink my beer, trying to concentrate on the movie. Every time she offers me a bite of her snack, I lose interest in the movie. During one of the action scenes, she places her one leg over mine.
Just the slightest touch of her leg draped across mine does me in. I pull her in for a kiss, probably harder than I should have. Our teeth clash while our tongues search for something. I’m not sure what, but like the battle scene on the big screen, they are fighting each other. Moving my hand down her body, I settle it between her thighs. I can feel the heat coming from her even above her panties. I rub my fingers lightly, stroking back and forth. Just enough to drive her wild but never enough to give her what she needs. She moans against my mouth. Reluctantly, I break the kiss when the fight ends. As much as I want to fuck her, it won’t be here.
The rest of the movie, I try to focus on the screen. When the last of the credits roll, I pull Lexi up from the chair.
“You want to get some real food?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“Do you want to go out and get a drink somewhere?”
Again, no.
“What do you want to do then?”
“Let’s go back to my place.”
That’s the answer I was waiting for. I take her hand in mine and lead her to the car. Taking the keys from her, I open the passenger side door for her. There’s no way she’s driving. I plan to make use of the ride back to her place. I take the back way; that way, I don’t have to deal with traffic lights and the constant shifting.
Once I hit a steady speed, I place my hand on her leg. The moment I touch her inner thigh, she parts her legs. This time, I do what I wanted to earlier. I move her panties to the side. She’s warm and wet with arousal. Using one finger, I gently circle her clit, slowly. Only when she begs do I add a second finger. I set a rhythm she seems to like: forward, back, circle. I keep this pattern going until we come to a stop sign. It’s only two more blocks to the house, and I want to work her up. A few cars are driving by, and I use the time to dip my fingers inside her.
“Lexi?”
She moans.
“I either need my hand back, or you have to shift for me.”
I step on the clutch, while she shifts the car into each gear. All while she rides my fingers. Lexi removes her hand from the stick shift but moves it to my hard cock.
One block left.
I’m trying to concentrate on the road as she unbuttons my pants. Fuck.
She slips her tiny hand down the front and begins to stroke me. Her driveway is in sight, and I reluctantly remove my hands from her to turn the wheel. I put the car in first and pull the emergency brake. I’m ready to bring her in the house, but she stops me.
“Push the seat back, Hunter.”
One pull of the lever and the seat slides as far back as it can. Next to me, Lexi is removing her panties, and it’s like back in my teenage years. She pulls down my boxers just enough that I spring free.
Only when she climbs over the console and across my lap do I second-guess this. The moment she grips me in her hand and positions me at her entrance, all coherent thoughts leave my head. She runs the head of my dick across her wet pussy, teasing both of us. The motion alone can bring me to climax, but I won’t allow it. She pulls in a breath when she places the tip of my cock in her pussy. My instincts take over, and I push up into her. One of her hands grabs the overhead handle, while her other hand grips my shoulder.
We move the best we can in the tiny car. She bounces above me, but I want more. I hold her still to my body.
“Hold on, Lex.”
To make sure none of her neighbors are walking by, I do a quick check of the area. I grab her purse and hand her the keys. I open the car door and turn us to the side. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I pull the back of her dress down, not wanting anyone to get a view of her ass. It’s mine. Her hands lock around my neck, while she tucks her head into me. At first, I think she is hiding her face, but then she starts sucking. Fuck, it feels good. With my hands gripping her waist and ass, I manage to lift us both out of the car without injury. I push the car door closed with my leg and start making my way to the front door.
The minute she starts biting my neck, I pick up the pace. I’m still inside her. Every time I take a step, she bounces against my dick. Fuck, this was a bad idea. A bad idea that feels too fucking good.
“Door, now,” I growl out. The need to fuck her hard is consuming me.
Lexi unlocks and opens the door as I hold her up. Once inside, I kick it closed. I drop her purse so I can pin her to the front door and push my jeans down to my thighs. It’s the best I can do without leaving her warmth. I raise her dress higher, but it’s not enough. I need her naked. I want to suck on those tits that have been taunting me all night in that dress.
“Dress off,” I demand because I’m hanging by a thread.
I grip her ass tighter as she lifts it free from her body. Those pink nipples of hers are right where I want them. I give them a playful bite. She sighs. I circle my tongue around one then the other.
“God, yes,” she says quietly.
As I pull the taut peak in my mouth, Lexi grips my head, and I decide then it’s time to stop shaving my head. I want her pulling my hair as I devour her body.
She pulls my mouth to hers in a deep kiss then begs. “Fuck me, Hunter.”
She moves up and down my cock, but it’s not enough. She’s begging for more. Hell, I want more. With one hand wrapped around her waist, I help her movements. When it’s still not enough, I reluctantly pull out of her to place her on her feet.
Because they are annoying the fuck out of me, I kick my jeans off. I turn her around, putting her palms on the door. This gives me much more access to her gorgeous body. From behind, I roll one hand over her nipples, and with the other, I rub her clit. She bends over slightly, telling me what she wants. Fucking perfect. Her round ass sticks out slightly, giving me the best view. Reaching b
etween us, she takes hold of my length, placing the head of my cock against her entrance. Her hand returns to the door, but she doesn’t stop there. Seductively, she looks over her shoulder as she pushes back, taking me in all the way. I pull out almost completely, only to push in harder this time. She meets me stroke for stroke. And I don’t want it to end. Ever. But I know I won’t last. Watching myself disappear in her is too much. My balls are already telling me it’s not going to be long. I reach around to her clit. I’ll be damned if I go first. Her pussy tightens against me as the first wave of her orgasm hits. Two more strokes and I go off with her. My release comes in short, fast bursts, and I think I’ve gone to heaven.
I catch Lexi before she collapses to the floor. When I pick her up, she snuggles against me as I carry her downstairs to her bed. I tuck her body close to mine and pull the covers over the two of us. Gently, I kiss her head.
“Sleep, Caramella Dolce.”
“Night, Big Boy.”
I know then that there’s no going back. This woman has taken my body and made it hers. And each time, she takes a little more of my heart. I’m completely fucked.
The next morning, I decide to make us breakfast. Lexi already gave me fair warning that she is a terrible cook, saying that she has the superpower of burning everything. Leave her to sleep in bed, I put my boxers on and head to the kitchen.
It’s massive. The whole house is. I look in the refrigerator to see what I can toss together. Greek yogurt, fruit, eggs, butter, and some flavored water are about it. I raid the pantry to find it stocked with flour, sugar, and all the necessary ingredients to make crepes.
After I get the batter ready, it needs to sit. It’s time to start the coffee. Only she doesn’t have a standard coffee pot; it’s some crazy machine that looks like a spaceship. Next up is the crepe filling. The blueberries and strawberries get washed and sliced before adding them to the yogurt, cinnamon, and powdered sugar mixture. It’s one of those moments when I get lost in my cooking.