by Allen, Sara
“But it’s delicious, and soup—any kind—is one of my favorite dishes to have year round.”
She smiles at me and my stomach muscles tighten. In the short time we’ve know each other, I’ve come to realize her smile can make me do things I’d never done for any other woman.
“Yeah but—”
“Aw, man, Landon Rogers? Holy shit! I thought that was you!” My body stiffens as I hear the slightly slurred words. I silently hope this is not what I think this is.
“Man, I’m a huge fan! Tough break about not winning the Super Bowl, though. But there’s always next season, right?” I look over and see a dude who looks to be no older than twenty-five with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of some younger dark-haired woman. If I couldn’t tell he was a fan from that outburst, I’d only have to look down a few inches. He’s actually dressed in my number three Lions jersey. I look over at Melody, who wears a confused expression on her face.
Fuck. This is not how I wanted her to find out.
“Look, man, can you sign this for me?” the guy asks holding out a pen. I have no idea where he got it from so quickly.
“Well, I’m eat—”
“Just real quick,” he interjects, cutting off my refusal.
I quickly grab the pen from his hand and sign my autograph on his jersey.
“Thanks, man! I’m never washing this again!” he practically shouts. It’s obvious he’s had a lot to drink.
“You’re welcome,” I say in a low voice, as I shake his hand.
“Hey, can we get a picture?” He looks over at Melody, and I practically lose it. “Sweetheart, would you take a picture of us?”
“No!” I damn near shout. “She’s not taking our picture. I don’t do photos.” I glare at him, daring him to say anyway else.
I can see by the slumping of his shoulders that he finally gets it and decides to back away. As he leaves, I watch Melody’s eyes on his jersey with my last name scrolled across the back. I watch as realization settles in.
“You said you were an athlete,” she whispers.
“I am,” is all I can manage to get out, while trying to gauge her reaction to what had just happened.
“You didn’t say you were the athlete. Landon Rogers, quarterback of the Philadelphia Lions,” she says looking down into her half-eaten soup. “I thought you looked familiar. I may not be a sports fan, but I’ve heard your name. I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together.” She places her cloth napkin on the table and shakes her head.
My heart rate increases, and I fear she’s going to stand and walk out on me. For most women I’m afraid the opposite will happen when they find out what I do, if they don’t already know. But given Mel’s history with her ex, I fear her insecurities rearing their ugly heads. “Mel, this doesn’t change anything. Football is just part of who I am,” I try to explain, but she holds up her hand.
“Don’t. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. We’re just two people on vacation having fun,” she says and gives me a half smile, before turning to her soup.
As we ride back to the apartment complex, I’m still confused as to what is going on inside her head. She’s barely spoken two words since we left the restaurant, and she’s distant. I can feel her closing herself off from me, and I don’t like it.
“I think it would be best if I slept here tonight, just so I can be up early to leave for my flight,” she says once we reach her condo.
I cock my head to the side, staring directly into her eyes, but she’s avoiding my gaze, looking everywhere but at me. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m letting her sleep apart from me on our last night here. I grip her chin with my thumb and forefinger and shift her head so she has nowhere to look but up at me. “That’s not going to happen. You’ll be spending your last night on this island the same place you’ve spent the last two weeks: in my bed,” I say as I pull her to me for a kiss. At first, I can tell she tries to resist the kiss, but I persist, and slowly her body melts into mine, her arms wrapping around my neck.
“Pack the rest of your stuff and bring it with you.”
She spends the next ten minutes packing and doing some light cleaning. There’s not much to clean up since she’s spent most of her vacation at my condo.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking the suitcase and carry-on bag from her hands.
Despite her earlier withdrawal, when we get back to my place, we are both ravenous for each other. I waste no time pulling her sundress down over those luscious curves, and I rip the lace panties and bra set underneath in my haste to get inside her. She is the same way with me, ripping the buttons from my shirt, and I don’t give a shit. I have plenty of shirts and money to buy more. There is only one Melody, and I want to savor my last night in paradise with her, though I know I will see her again. We don’t even make it to the bedroom the first time. I take her right there on the couch, using my mouth to make her cum the first time, before pulling her up to straddle me backwards. With sheer determination, I make her cum for a second time. We spend the rest of the night fucking like rabbits. I can’t get enough of this woman. We don’t succumb to exhaustion until around three o’clock in the morning. Even then, as I drift off to sleep, I make plans to wake up a little earlier than intended to fuck her silly before I have to drive her to the airport.
Unfortunately, I don’t get that chance. When my alarm goes off at six that morning, I reach over to turn it off and grab for her, and all I touch is the cool sheet and an empty pillow.
She’s gone.
Chapter Five
Melody
I’ve been back from vacation for a week now, and that same sense of loss and longing grips my chest whenever I think of him. And that’s pretty often. I sometimes kick myself for the way I snuck out of his condo in the early morning hours like a damn thief. I called Lina and asked her if she’d take me to the airport. On the way there, I apologized to her for not spending much time with her. She waved me off, telling me she was happy I’d met someone and had had a great time with him. She knows all about everything I went through with Evan. I’d spent many a night on the phone with her crying out my broken heart. What I didn’t tell her was that I was sneaking away from Landon without so much as a goodbye. I don’t even know why I did it. It’s just that when I found out who he was, I got scared. Those old insecurities emerged, and the overwhelming sadness of never seeing him again became too much. I opted for the coward’s way out. I know this.
Since I’ve been home, I find myself doing random Google searches of his name. He’s practically a football legend; three-time Super Bowl champion and MVP. I see the years he’s won the Super Bowl and make the connection with the tattoos on his ribs. The signs were all there, but just like with Evan, I had ignored them. The only thing is, Landon didn’t mislead me…not really. He never told me he loved me or promised me forever.
“It was just vacation dick, Mel. Get over it,” I admonish myself as I slam my laptop closed on an image of Landon in a recent article in the sports section of the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I hear the hard knocks on my door and frown. It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night. No one has called and asked me to come over. And all of my friends and family know not to come over unexpected unless it’s an emergency. I grab my glass of wine from my coffee table to place it in the kitchen sink before heading to the door in my baggy sweatpants and t-shirt.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Whoever the hell this is, is getting insistent on the other end. Hold your horses, I think just as I make it to the door and look through the peephole. I gasp at who’s on the other side before I throw it open.
There he is standing there like all my dreams from the past week wrapped up in one. Dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a black v-neck, those fascinating baby blues do a once over my body and actually darken in passion. He leans against my door frame, a lascivious smile crosses his handsome face.
“Hey, Red. Seems you left something in Puerto Rico.�
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I hear his words, but I’m too busy still trying to comprehend that he’s here. He’s actually on my doorstep. And he looks good. I finally register his words, as I notice out of the corner of my eye that his hand is swinging something. When I finally break away from his gaze, my eyes widen in shock when I realize he’s swinging a pair of purple lace panties. The same pair I’ve been searching for, for the past week.
“What are you doing here?” I hear the words tumble from my mouth.
“I would have been here sooner, but I had to make a stop in Florida to visit my mother for a few days. Then I had to give a call to my PI to find your address. Of course, if you would have simply let me take you to the airport, I could have avoided that last part. Can I come in?”
“You hired a PI to find me?” I question, still taken aback by the fact he went through all that to find me.
“Yup.” He smiles that dazzling smile of his. “Are you going to leave me on this doorstep or what?”
“Oh, yeah. Come in,” I say, as I move to the side to let him in.
He moves in close, so close, I have to take a step back, but he doesn’t stop. He backs me up, until he is fully inside my apartment and closes and locks the door behind him. Then he spins me around, pinning my back to the door and places a hand on the door on each side of my body, trapping me in.
Of course, my usual bodily responses whenever he is near take over. My nipples harden, and a shiver runs down my spine. When he leans in close, I think he’s going to go in for the kiss, and instinctively I turn my head up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans down close to my ear.
“You left me. That can’t go unpunished,” he growls before bending down and swooping me up over his shoulder.
“Landon!” I shriek on a deep gasp, not knowing what else to say.
Smack! His hand lands right on my upturned ass hard.
“Where’s your bedroom.” It’s not really a question so much as a directive.
“Put me down!” I shrill, half-embarrassed at being over his shoulder in the first place, but even more so at how turned on I am.
Smack!
“Bedroom,” he growls out again, and this time, I point to where my bedroom is.
“Down the hall to the left.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he storms down the hall with me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Once we reach my bedroom, he tosses me on my queen size bed on my back. “Landon, I…” I try to explain why I left the way I did, but words fail me.
“I know why you left.” He glares at me. “You think you were just vacation pussy and that once I get back to my real life…” he says, using air quotes around the last two words. “…I was going to be done with you, ‘cause of my image.” Again, the air quotes come out for the word, image. “You should know me better than that, Red,” he continues. “But since you don’t, I will have to show you. Take off your clothes.”
My pussy muscles tighten at the command in his voice and the way his eyes glint at me, challenging me to defy him.
“Red, if you want to be able to wear those sweatpants and t-shirt again, you will have them off in the next two seconds. Or else, I’m tearing them off,” he warns as his hands go to his belt buckle. When he takes a step forward, I immediately lift my shirt over my head and begin removing my sweatpants.
“Panties too,” he orders.
I take off my green boy shorts and toss them on the floor with the rest of my clothing. I was already braless underneath my t-shirt.
Slowly, looking me straight in the eyes, Landon pulls off his belt and folds it in half, and holds it up for me to see.
“Turnaround on all fours and clasp your hands together.” Another order.
My pussy muscles tighten, and I bite my bottom lip, wondering what he plans to do.
“Now, Red, I’m not a patient man.”
I turn over and do as he says. I immediately feel his warmth behind me, as he crawls onto the bed and positions himself right behind me, kneeing my legs apart, exposing me even more to his gaze. He ties the belt around my wrists just tight enough so I can’t get out of it, but not painfully so. I feel his big hand rest at the lower part of my back, while he uses his knees to push my legs even further apart. He uses his hands to palm both my ass cheeks.
“Mmmm,” I moan when he squeezes them.
Smack! Smack! The sound of his hand making contact with my bare ass reverberates around the room.
“Ahhh,” I cry out as he lands another smack to my backside.
“You…don’t…run…from…me,” he punctuates each word with a smack. “Do you understand?” He grips my braids pulling my head back to growl the question in my ear.
“Yesss,” I hiss.
“Good girl,” he says in a satisfied voice. I hear ruffling of clothing behind me, and the tearing of a condom wrapper, seconds before his very hard cock pushes inside of me. I’m so wet and aroused, that he easily fills me.
“Mmm… Someone likes to be spanked,” he groans. “Is that you? Does my good girl like being spanked?” He asks, gripping my hips and pummeling into me. He shows no mercy as he plunges deeply into me before pulling almost all the way out and then plunging back in deep. “Answer me!” he growls. “Does my good girl like being spanked?” he asks rotating his hips, and I feel the tingling that signals an on-coming orgasm.
“Yesss! Oh, Landon, don’t stop,” I pant, unable to catch my breath, but not even caring. I don’t need air. All I need is for this man to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. I try to thrust back onto his cock, but I’m stopped by his tight grip on my waist. My legs begin to tremble, and just when I feel my orgasm approaching, he pulls all the way out.
“Nooo!” I cry out, unable to believe he stopped at that moment.
“You know I like to see it when you cum.”
Before I can think of a response, I’m flipped onto my back with my hands still restrained over my head. I look up to see Landon positioned between my legs. His large hand moves up my belly, pinching each one of my rock hard nipples before his fingers wrap around my neck. We’d done this many times in Puerto Rico. He knows just how hard to press on my neck to bring about the most pleasure.
With one hand around my neck and one gripping my thigh hoisting it high against his waist, he re-enters me.
“Fuck! This pussy is so good. I can’t believe you tried to take it away from me,” he grounds out through clenched teeth. He pistons in and out of me with no mercy, angling himself so that he hits my swollen clit on each down stroke. Simultaneously, his grip tightens around my neck depriving me of oxygen.
“Now!” he yells.
And I do. I cum hard all over his still thrusting cock, with his hand still around my neck. I cum so hard, the next thing I remember is opening my eyes to see a worried Landon staring down at me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I have to think back to why he is so worried. I realize I must have passed out from that orgasm. I smile and nod. “I’m a hell of a lot better than okay,” I say still feeling some of the aftershock of my intense orgasm. “Wait, did you…” I ask looking up at him, worried that he didn’t get to finish.
His lips turn up in that way that always sends a flutter to my belly and he nods. I blow out a breath.
“Now let’s talk about why you left me like that and how you will never do that again.” The look he gives me tells me he is one hundred percent serious. “Imagine my surprise, Red, when I wake up with plans to fuck you one more time before getting your contact information before taking you to the airport?”
I look into his eyes and beyond anger I see he is hurt. I lower my gaze, both ashamed and saddened knowing I’ve hurt Landon. “I’m so—” I start to apologize but then I remember he’s not too fond of hearing me apologize. “I just thought it was a good time on vacation for you. And when I found out who you were that night, I just got scared. I told you all about Evan. I know that high powered men like to maintain a certain image. I’m usually not it,”
I am nearly whispering the last words.
I feel his hand tilt my chin up to look him in the eye.
“I’m not those men. I want you. Not some image. I don’t usually believe in fate, but it’s gotta be some type of divine intervention that we both live in the same city and met while on vacation. This…” he pauses and placed his hand over the center of my chest, “…feels right. I would like to see where this goes.”
I smile in agreement. This feels more than right.
“There’s a gala I’m going to next week, and I want you with me,” he nonchalantly informs me.
“A gala? You mean like a big event where women wear evening gowns, and men sport tuxedos? Will cameras be there, flashing and taking it all in?” I ask astonished. I know what a gala is. I just can’t believe he wants to take me as his date. I’m still getting used to the fact that he’s lying here in my bed.
“Yeah, what else would I mean? I’ll call my personal assistant in the morning to have him forward the names of a few personal shoppers I work with.” He continues to talk about the gala. Informing me that it’s for the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. I just sit and listen as he talks about the gala and the charity work he’s done for CHOP and other charities he’d like to get involved with. I can’t help but snuggle into his side a little deeper. This is what I’ve missed for the past seven days. I peacefully drift off to sleep in his arms, a smile of contentment etched on my face.
****
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The next morning I’m awakened by another series of knocks at my door. I look over and discover that it’s just after nine o’clock on a Saturday morning. I attempt to get up to go answer the door when Landon’s arm around me tightens.
“Who is that?” he asks, his eyes still closed.
“I have no idea,” I tell him honestly.