by CoraLee June
“Oakley...what are we celebrating?”
He spun around to look at me. “I’ve been turning down scouts for years. But today, I told Coach I wanted to work hard this season and that I’d be open to meetings. I don’t know if they’ll even want me—”
“Of course they’ll want you,” I reassured. I’d seen the evidence of it in his email. Plenty of agents, coaches, and scouts had reached out, but he strictly instructed me to ignore them. “What changed?”
“I don’t want to work in a flower shop,” he replied. “That was always my sister’s dream, and my mother has her empire handled. She just opened another shop in New York, actually.”
“So what are you saying?” I was excited for him. So much had changed so quickly.
“I’m saying I just want to do things differently. A few big wigs are going to the USC game and want to chat afterward. This could be it.” I let out the breath I was holding. Wow. I didn’t even know what to say. “Now don’t get a big head about this,” he teased.
“Oh, I’m totally taking credit for this.”
“Get dressed, I’m taking you out, Solver.”
I took a few extra minutes getting ready. I had to at least try to look hot; Oakley was in a suit, after all. While I was applying the best smoky eye I could, I thought about the injustice that was men getting ready versus women. It’s really not fair how fucking good men look in a well tailored suit. All they had to do was get dressed and smell nice, and they’re sex gods.
I chose the sexiest dress I owned. Out of habit, I started looking for my Spanx. It took me a good three minutes of searching to remember that I didn’t own them anymore. It was so weird. I used them like a shield of armor. I shimmied into my favorite little black dress. The dress hugged my hips and stopped mid-thigh. The plunging neckline was held up by straps that crossed in the back, and it had just enough sequins to be sexy but not enough to cross the line into trashy. This dress made me feel powerful and confident.
I slipped on some black heels and small diamond stud earrings and headed out to the living room. Oakley was watching the enormous sixty inch TV when I came in. I waited patiently for him to turn around and drink in the sight of me, but his eyes were glued to the screen. He must not have heard me. Seriously? Didn’t he know I was making an entrance here? I cleared my throat dramatically and waited for his reaction.
He stood up and drank me in. His eyes worked their way up from my heels to the soft curls I had put in my hair. He lingered on the spot where my hemline stopped on my thigh and again at my breasts where the neckline dipped.
“You look fucking incredible,” he told me in a low raspy voice. “Maybe we can just stay in tonight. I’m not sure I want to share you with the rest of the world, after all.”
“Not a chance, cowboy. I got all dolled up, you’re taking me out,” I said and then stuck my tongue out at him, playfully.
“Alright, Solver, let’s go. But I have a few ideas for what you can do with that tongue later,” he teased.
The restaurant that Oakley took me to was considerably nicer than the first one. It was still dimly lit, but this time it was for the atmosphere instead of trying to hide dinginess. It was a Japanese restaurant with dark floors and walls with pops of bright color. It smelled so good I was basically drooling. Bonus, sushi was relatively low in calories.
The hostess sat us at a small quiet table away from the chaos and noise of the main section. I ordered salmon rolls, and Oakley ordered what felt like the entire menu. Damn, this man could eat.
“So tell me all about what Coach said when you told him you were open to being recruited,” I said, excited to hear the details.
“Coach was pumped. He’s been trying to get me to take my career more seriously for years. I don’t know, something about it just feels so right.”
“I’m really excited for you, Oakley. You’ve worked hard this semester both on and off the field.”
“Yes, well, there’s this girl I met,” Oakley murmured playfully.
“Oh? What’s she like?”
“She’s kind of crazy. Definitely doesn’t put up with my shit. She likes to set alarms on my phone that go off all hours of the day and distracts me with her feisty personality. I’m pretty much hard every second we’re together.”
“She sounds pretty high maintenance,” I replied with a smile.
“She’s perfect.” Oakley locked his eyes on mine. “You came into my life like a whirlwind and changed everything up. For the better,” he said. Aww shucks! Despite the verbal lashing I had gotten from my mentor, I was pretty damn good at my job. And it was paying off for my client.
We went quiet for a minute. I pushed around my sushi rolls, debating on indulging in another one. “Can I ask you something?” Oakley asked, nodding toward my plate.
“Sure, what’s up?” I asked.
“Let me preface this with something: I’m not even going to begin to pretend to understand your eating habits. I’m not a therapist, and I definitely am not entitled to an explanation. We’ve discussed it a little, and I’m not trying to be insensitive at all. I just...notice things.”
I chewed on my lip. “Spit it out,” I encouraged him.
“After every meal, you pick up your phone and calculate your calories,” Oakley said.
“There’s nothing wrong with keeping a food diary,” I argued.
“Absolutely, I mean, I track my own macros,” Oakley replied with his hands tossed up in surrender. “But I just want to make sure you’re being healthy…”
“This isn’t exactly the best conversation for a date,” I said dryly.
“Fuck. I know. I just… Have you always been picky about your food?” he asked, trying to be delicate.
I let out a sigh. “No. Not always. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“Try. I won’t judge.”
“I was—am—really insecure. I spent most of my college experience overcompensating by making people laugh. Everyone loves the life of the party, until they don’t anymore. I drank a lot. I ate a lot. I fucked shitty guys because I didn’t think I deserved any better.”
“That’s so fucking crazy to me. I mean, look at you,” Oakley said while nodding at me. “You’re the most confident woman I know. And if we’re being honest, the way you boss me around is kind of hot. I can’t picture you as anything different.”
I smiled at Oakley, but that bubbling pit of insecurity traveled up my throat. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have found me as attractive just a few months ago. “When my streaking video went viral on campus, it just highlighted all the things I’d become. I was drunk off my ass and doing anything for a laugh. I couldn’t handle being her anymore. People were cruel.”
“What did they say?” Oakley asked.
“What didn’t they say?” I scoffed. “I was body shamed by everyone. It was then that I realized I was nothing but a joke to these people. I’d created a persona that wasn’t truly me.”
I picked up a bite of sushi with my chopsticks and placed it on my tongue, slowly chewing it before swallowing. It really was delicious.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Oakley said in a low voice.
“I did it to myself. And yes, I developed an unhealthy relationship with food, but I’ve been slowly finding a middle ground. I like being aware of what I’m putting into my body. I’m getting to a point where I’m researching and learning what is good for me and what isn’t. This started as a toxic crash diet, but it’s evolved. Hell, eliminating alcohol was most of the battle with my weight.”
I paused and took a sip of my water before continuing. “Every time I took a bite, all I could hear was the cruel things they had said to me. But right now, with you, I’m just enjoying my meal.”
Oakley smiled. “I want you to enjoy things with me. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad I could tell you.”
“For the record,” Oakley began, leaning forward. “I think you’re beautiful. But
it’s that feisty attitude of yours that turns me on most. I want every single version of you, Amanda Matthews. I’m sorry it happened, but I’m not sorry you found your confidence.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
We finished our dinner while Oakley talked excitedly about different scouts and what teams he would like to play for. He was really adorable when he talked about playing pro ball. He was downright sexy when he was passionate. And somehow, by the time the server brought the check, I found myself thinking about future dates. Future #mine moments.
“I want to take you somewhere else,” Oakley said with a grin, and I had to force myself not to pout. After our dinner, I wanted nothing more than to go back to my place and lick those delicious abs of his.
“Oh? Okay,” I replied lamely.
“You don’t sound excited,” he teased, signing the bill.
“I just, um, was looking forward to going home with you.”
“It’s the suit, isn’t it?” he asked, lifting his arm and flexing. I laughed at his joke and waited for him to explain where we were going. “I promise to let you have your way with my irresistible body, Solver. I just want to show you something, first.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
24
The building had a bright yellow door, and the windows were filled with beautiful arrangements. The Tilted Tulip sat in the heart of Austin. “Is this your mom’s flower shop?” I asked excitedly.
“Her flagship store. It all started here,” Oakley explained while holding my hand and guiding me toward an alley with a side entrance. “Every day after school, Daisy and I would help Mom with arrangements.”
“Daisy and Oakley,” I mused as he unlocked the door.
“My mom was a bit cliche with the names,” he agreed.
“And your Dad?” I asked.
“Left a few months after I was born. Mom took everything she had and bought this shop.” As he spoke, he flicked on the lights, illuminating the room. I looked around greedily, excited to have a glimpse into his life.
The shop was warm and cheerful, flowers filling every space. The walls were the same yellow as the front door, and there were refrigerators full of elaborate arrangements and beautiful single stems. The countertops were a cozy teal, giving the shop a bold, cheerful feeling. I spun around, taking it all in. I could almost envision Oakley’s mother from the way the shop was decorated and cared for.
“Pick some out, anything you like!” Oakley said, gesturing to the black bins full of loose flowers. He handed me a flat wicker basket with a handle to collect the stems in. It was so cute how excited he was getting over flowers.
I walked around, bending over to pick up brightly colored flowers and put them in my basket as he took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The slow, methodical movement that revealed his muscular forearms made me pant. What was it about a good pair of forearms that made me go crazy? I could feel Oakley’s eyes on my ass, so I picked up a flower and pretended to drop it on the floor.
“Oops,” I said innocently. I bent over slowly to pick it up and gave my ass a little shake. He walked past me and gave it a playful smack on his way to the next row of bins.
He picked up a pretty yellow flower.
“This is a golden columbine,” he started. “It’s a flower that’s native to Texas and was the inspiration for the yellow doors on all of Mom’s shops.” He looked really proud of himself, teaching me about the flowers.
“And this,” he said, picking up what looked like a sunflower, “this is an Indian Blanket. It’s an annual bloom in the sunflower family.” He put the flower in between his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I giggled and showed him my full basket of flowers.
“I’m officially impressed with your floral knowledge. But can you put your money where your mouth is and turn this into one of those amazing bouquets?” I asked, hefting my basket into the air and nodding toward the expertly arranged vases.
“Of course I can. Follow me,” he said with an air of cockiness. I followed after him and set up at a nearby table. “Wedding season is my favorite,” Oakley explained, grabbing some scissors and twine. “The brides can be crazy, but spring is always all hands on deck. My mother has been featured in so many bridal magazines it’s insane. She has a waitlist of thousands wanting her to do their arrangements.”
I never thought flowers could be the foundation of such an empire, but the success of their company explained Oakley’s expensive clothes and nice car. It was nice to see him roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty, though. Most kids would have just mooched off their parent’s success. “The trick is to have a sense of variety in length. You’re going to want to trim the stems cohesively, while still allowing differences.”
I followed his lead, trimming as I saw fit and trying to match his process.
“Then, after you have your stems cut, put a foundation of greens and leaves in the vase first,” he said confidently. “Next, you can find the natural gaps and fill them in with the flowers. Most people will try to alternate between the different types of flowers and then add the filler, but this is the best way to get a really pretty and full bouquet.”
Oakley Davis: football star, playboy, and expert flower arranger. Who knew?
I got to work on my flowers, focusing on following the guidelines Oakley had given me. I fluffed out my greenery and carefully placed the different colored flowers to fill in the openings. After a few minutes, I had a gorgeous vase of flowers. I was super impressed with myself. I looked up to tell Oakley that he should be impressed with me too only to see that he was already staring at me.
He came over and pretended to grade my work.
“This is an excellent first attempt, Miss Matthews,” he said smartly and moved to position himself behind me. “However, I think you will find with just a few small adjustments, it could be perfect.”
Oakley slid his arms under mine and pressed his chest tightly into my back. I let out a small laugh because it felt like he was about to teach me how to play mini golf. He picked up a few more stems and placed them into the vase, grazing my breasts as he did. His pelvis nudged into my ass every time he leaned forward, and I could feel his excitement. I started grinding into him when he moved, and I heard his breath hitch.
He spun me around to face him and effortlessly picked me up and sat me on the table top. I parted my legs, making Oakley’s eyes dart to where my dress was riding up. “You’re so fucking tempting,” he growled, grabbing a nearby pink flower. Gripping the stem, he started dragging it up my thigh. The touch made goosebumps break out over my skin. “So sensitive. You respond to the lightest touch,” he added before dragging it higher and higher, removing the flower once it was close to my slick heat.
I licked my lips as he dragged the flower across my arms, my chest, my cheeks. It was so teasing and slow. Oakley Davis was taking his time with me, and every pass of the potent petals had me dripping with need. “Kiss me,” I demanded. I wanted to feel his lips on mine.
“So impatient. I thought we were going to make an arrangement, hmm?” he teased as he put the flower down.
“Oakley,” I pleaded, my voice a whimper. He was enjoying the neediness in my tone. I watched as he grabbed some velvet ribbon nearby. Taking it in his hands, he pressed my wrists together, tying them with an expert bow. The soft material rubbed against my skin.
“I’ve fantasized about doing this for ages,” he rasped before lifting my arms up and wrapping them around his neck. I scooted forward on the table, aligning our sexes as he tempted me with a kiss.
“I’m all tied up. All yours,” I whispered. It was like speaking loudly would ruin the tension-filled moment.
“All. Mine,” Oakley growled while lunging for my lips. The force of his kiss made me arch my back. His tongue fought with mine. We tasted one another. We moved like ocean waves, our bodies giving in to the pleasure. I struggled against the velvet restraints, wanting nothing more than to run my hands along his hard torso.
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“No moving,” he demanded between kisses. I bucked on the table as his lips edged the line of my jaw. He sunk lower and lower, stealing pieces of me as he went. The trail of his sharp teeth made my creamy skin turn red.
“Oakley, please,” I begged. I was squirming from his relentless teasing. My dress kept rolling up until the little thong I was wearing was the only thing covering my sex. His mouth continued to wander. He pushed down the straps of my dress and exposed my breasts.
“Look at you, Solver. Seriously. You have me hard as a rock every second of the fucking day.” He then cupped my heavy breasts and pinched my nipples. “Pretty pink little nipples. I love touching them. You make the cutest sounds when I…” His voice trailed off as he lowered to kiss them. I moaned. “Yep. That sound right there. Fuckkk,” he added.
I pulled my bound wrists against his neck, pressing him harder against me. I wanted to drive him lower and lower until his hot breath was on the building ache between my thighs. He straightened and stared at me head on. “Amanda Matthews, I want to fuck you until all I can feel is that sweet little pussy clenching around my cock,” he rasped, grabbing a condom from his pocket and unfastening the button on his suit pants. Within moments, his hard cock was nudging at my entrance. “These are in the way,” he whispered, threading his fingers through the straps of my thong and shimmying them down my legs. Slowly. Teasingly. A shudder traveled up my spine as I became overwhelmed with need.
“I need…” I began, not even sure how to articulate what I craved. I wanted him hard and fast. Demanding. Punishing. The silky feel of his light touches made me heady.
“What do you need, Solver?” he asked, the question like a taunt.
“You. I need you.”
Oakley surged inside of me, making my head roll back and my toes curl. The moment he was fully inside of me, he bit his lip and let out a grunt. “Fuck, Amanda. You feel so good,” he murmured.
Oakley started pumping harder. I felt ravaged by his movements. The silky restraints binding my wrists added a sense of excitement to it all. I was flooded with sensations. We were electric. Erotic. I sunk into the feeling of his large cock piercing me. I glided across the table. Hell, I could have been flying for all I knew.