Mister Dimples: A Hero Club Novel

by Lindsay Becs

  Watching the whole thing play out is quite comical, and I can’t help it when my laughter intensifies. Then I snort laugh, which turns his attention my way, and when his head turns my direction, maybe it’s the Prosecco, but I cannot stop laughing. I don’t know if he recognizes me, but everything is making me laugh uncontrollably. Tears fill my eyes, and I can hardly breathe as I wave a hand in front of me to fan my heated face.

  “I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not drunk, but that was hilarious!” I tell him as I try to breathe. “She was so pissed!” I start to laugh again.

  Bianca is trying her best to act like she doesn’t know me at the moment, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m embarrassing her or if she’s trying to give me space to talk to the sexy man beside me.

  He finally lets a deep laugh escape as he watches me. “She wouldn’t let me buy her a drink to apologize, but can I buy you one in thanks for seeing the humor in it all?”

  His question seems to sober my laughter, and I give him a genuine smile. “Sure.”

  As he orders my drink, I dip my head to shoot Bianca a wide-eyes look of ‘holy hell what am I doing?’ She gives me a wink in encouragement to go with it.

  “I have a table in the back with a friend. Would you like to join us?” he asks me.

  Licking at the corner of my mouth, I think about his offer, but I look to Bianca and I can’t leave her on our girls’ night. “I’m here with my friend,” I tell him, tipping my head toward her.

  “That’s alright. I have a friend with me too. You’re both welcome to join us. Fair warning, he’s married though,” he adds on, looking to Bianca apologetically.

  She gives him a smile. “It’s okay. I am too. Maybe we’ll be good company while you two get to know each other apart from being tangled with dogs and spilled drinks.”

  I close my eyes, wishing she hadn’t said anything, but Mister Muscles doesn’t miss a beat. “I thought that was you,” he says, looking down at me with a small grin. “So, what do you say? Would you ladies like to join us?”

  I look back to Bianca, who shrugs a shoulder at me with a smile, leaving it up to me. “Okay,” I tell him.

  He takes my hand to help me off my stool, and when he turns to pick up his drinks from the bar, I look back at Bianca mouthing Oh, my gosh! And she mouths back You’re welcome.

  We both follow him to the back corner of the bar, where a guy is sitting looking at his phone. He looks surprised when we all walk up to the table before he smiles largely at his dude-bro. “Did you make new friends?”

  “Shut up,” Mister Muscles mutters.

  I raise my hand and wave. “Hi, I’m Juniper. I literally ran into your friend in the park earlier this week. He offered us a seat back here. I hope that’s alright.”

  “Absolutely,” he says before adding, “I’m Dante. Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat.”

  “This is my friend, Bianca.” I gesture to her standing behind me. “And you are…” I prod the man who I’m supposed to know more than his friend.

  Dante lets out a loud laugh. “This is Troy. Sorry about his awkward ass.”

  Smiling up at him, I hold out my hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Troy. Up to now, I’ve been calling you Mister Muscles in my mind.”

  Dante laughs again, tipping his head back. “This keeps getting better and better. Thank you, Lord, for letting me witness this.”

  Troy shakes his head at his friend before he takes my hand in his. His large hand engulfs mine, and everything in me sizzles as butterflies erupt in my belly. “I’m happy to put a name with the face. Nice to meet you, Juniper. I’m Troy.”

  We all sit, and it doesn’t take long before Dante and Bianca are discussing married life and kids, lost in their own bubble of family talk.

  “Alright, I have to ask. Juniper isn’t a common name. You don’t happen to be the same Juniper who does Go Sports! are you?” Troy asks me, looking a little nervous as he does. It’s cute really.

  “I am,” I admit, and his eyes go wide. “Is that a bad thing? Are you a fan or a hater? I have equal parts of both.”

  “I’m a huge fan. I love your show. You’re hilarious!” he says with a growing smile from under his hat. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize your voice before now.”

  “Different surroundings.” I shrug.

  “Yeah,” he says, reaching up to remove his ball cap and placing it on the table. He runs his fingers through dark blonde hair and then looks over at me with a cute, shy grin.

  “Why do you look so nervous now? Should I be worried you’re going to stalk me?”

  “No, I’m not a stalker, just a fan.” He looks at me and smiles bigger. It is a megawatt, panty-dropping, gorgeous smile. With the sexiest dimples that make me want to swirl my finger into them. Fuck me.

  “I don’t think I’d mind being stalked by you,” I admit, taking a sip of my drink.

  “Good to know,” he says, his eyes searching my face. I’m not sure why, but I love how he’s looking at me like he just found something special and rare.

  An hour later, Bianca and Dante both say they need to get home, and after Troy and I let our friends know we’ll be just fine, they both leave.

  “Are you alright staying here, or would you like to go somewhere else?” he asks me as he drains the last of his drink.

  “Hmmm… I’m indifferent. I can go either way,” I tell him, putting the decision back on him.

  “I didn’t peg you for one of those girls,” he says as he bumps my leg with his under the table.

  “What girls?”

  “One who doesn’t make decisions and leaves it up to the guy.”

  “I’m not with most things, but sometimes I like to see what the guy will choose. It’s a way of seeing what kind of man he is.”

  “How so?”

  “For example, if you say let’s go to your place, I know you just want sex. But if you want to stay here, you are interested in conversation but maybe not much more, depending on how it goes. Or if you say let’s go somewhere else, you’re interested in getting to know me more and also showing me that you’re willing to put in effort.”

  “Do all girls do this?” he asks, sounding shocked and scared.

  I laugh, putting a hand on his leg to calm him. “I don’t know. But this one does.”

  “Damn. No pressure or anything,” he jokes as he slides his hand over mine.

  “How much would you judge me if I asked if you wanted to come back to my place?”

  His eyes travel from my eyes to my mouth and back up again. “So, you just want sex?” he asks, leaning closer to me, his eyes dropping back to my mouth.

  “I want you to come home with me, have a nightcap, get to know you more, and also learn what kind of kisser you are,” I tell him truthfully.

  “I’ll get a car to take us,” he says, pulling his cell from his pocket.

  Placing his hat back on his head, he takes my hand and laces our fingers together as he walks us to the bar, pays his tab and then leads us outside to where a black SUV is waiting. I give the driver my address, and as he pulls away from the bar, I turn to Troy. The look he gives me is the same one I give back, and I know that we’re skipping the first two parts of what I told him I wanted to do when we got to my place.

  Thankfully, I don’t live far from the bar. Leading Troy up to my SoHo apartment, my heart is pounding in my chest. I’m not usually the girl who brings men home. I can’t even remember the last time I actually did. I’m a relationship gal, not a serial dater or one-night stand type of girl.

  Walking inside, I close the door, turning the bolt lock and filling the silence around us with its click as it slides into place, sealing us inside. I’m not a person who gets nervous very often—call it an occupational hazard—but standing inside my apartment with Troy has me zinging with nerves.

  Turning around to face him, I ask, “Do you want something to drink?”

  Instead of answering, he drinks me in. Stepping closer, he towers over me, his la
rge frame peering down at me. I tilt my head back to look up at his face, my head hitting the closed door behind me with a bang. We both smile but don’t laugh.

  His hand glides up my arm to the nape of my neck, his fingers weaving into my hair. My eyes drop to his mouth this time when his tongue peeks out and slicks over his lips.

  My heart is hammering in my chest, all of this new to me. I’m not a girl to kiss on the first date or just hours after I meet someone. But for whatever reason, with Troy, it doesn’t feel like that. This all feels different and right.

  Turning his cap backward, he lowers his face to mine, my eyes staying open and on his as his lips find mine in a soft, quick kiss before he goes in for another. This one more demanding, making my eyes roll back as they close when his tongue meets mine. A deep, sexy growl comes from him as he kisses me more, our tongues dueling as our lips become acquainted.

  My hands roam up his chest, feeling each and every dip and ripple from his muscled body through the cotton shirt he’s wearing, stopping to rest on his shoulders. We kiss more and more, each one becoming better than the last.

  He holds me close to him, one hand at my nape and the other at my hip, massaging and pulling me against him.

  “Let’s move farther inside,” I say into our kiss with a smile. “Get more comfortable.”

  Without words, he picks me up, spinning around to walk into my apartment. Walking straight back, he finds my couch in the open-concept space, sitting down with me straddling his lap. His lips go to my collarbone, kissing across it and up the side of my neck.

  “You smell like cupcakes and taste like happiness,” he says into my flushed skin.

  My arms rest on the tops of his shoulders, and I smile at him. “I can’t say I’ve ever been told that before.”

  “Happy to be your first.”

  “I didn’t say that,” I volley back.

  Leaning forward, he bites my exposed shoulder playfully. I remove his hat and put it on my head instead. “Is this thing like your security blanket or something?” I tease.

  “Or something,” he says, turning it backward on my head and kissing me again.

  4

  Sunday carbs don’t count. Those are the Lord’s carbs and He wants you to be happy.

  TROY

  Since the moment I fell into those deep pools of chocolate staring up at me, everything has flowed so naturally with her. We clicked seamlessly as we got to know each other at the bar. And the fact that she’s the girl who washes away all the bad in my days with her show is the cherry on top. She’s just as fun to talk to in person as she is to listen to.

  It doesn’t matter if she’s her natural-beauty self like in the park or sex-kitten hot like she is tonight; she is stunning. Her milk-chocolate eyes framed by long lashes have me suckered in to her in a bad way. Her silky, long brown hair falling around her bare shoulders makes me want to keep my fingers buried in the tresses forever. High cheekbones, a cute little button nose, and plump pink lips have my lips never wanting to leave her skin. I love that’s she curvy and soft under my hands, and her cinched-in waist and ample breasts on display have been killing me tonight. She is driving me wild. I’m trying to be a gentleman here and not a stereotypical guy, but hot damn, she is not making it easy on me.

  She’s the perfect mixture of cute and sexy with my hat on her head as she straddles my lap in her tight jeans and corset-looking top that’s pushing her tits up and teasing me.

  Running her hands through my hair, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the top of her cleavage, leaving kisses across her chest. I take a chance and kiss down farther, pushing my tongue into her cleavage and licking along the edge of her top. Goosebumps erupt on her skin and she tilts her head back, pushing her chest into my face more.

  Kissing my way back up, I peck her lips when she brings her face back to look at me. “I should probably go,” I tell her, using every ounce of strength I possess.

  She stares at me, not moving. “Or you could stay a little longer,” she says after a pause.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want? We don’t have to rush things. And I definitely want to see you more after tonight,” I tell her truthfully.

  She gives me a sexy little smirk, nodding her head as her small hands slide under my shirt lifting it up to my chest. “Arms up, buttercup,” she orders. “I have to see what I’ve been feeling.”

  I obey, lifting my arms and helping her pull the fabric off. Her eyes scan down my torso, bugging out a little as they do. I may not be the cockiest of jocks, but I am aware that I’m not a bad-looking dude. I smile, liking the way her face changes as she peruses my upper half.

  “Oh, shit. This is all so much better than I imagined,” she admits, her wide eyes still on my abs.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “And I imagined some good stuff,” she adds, her eyes finding mine again. “Are you even real? I didn’t know this could be real.”

  “Put your hands on me and find out,” I flirt.

  She does and then giggles like a schoolgirl, ending it with that same snort that drew me to look at her at the bar. I can’t help but join her laughter, pulling her against my chest. “You are so fucking adorable,” I chuckle, then pull away and let my eyes take her in again. “And so fucking sexy.”

  Her fingers find the first hook and eye of the top she’s wearing, and she pulls it open. I watch with bated breath as she continues to the next and the next and the next, my already hard dick twitching and hardening more and more right along with her descending fingers.

  She stops when it’s halfway open, her full breasts peeking out, showing more of her cleavage. My mouth is practically salivating to taste and lick every part of her.

  We both shift on the couch, me sliding down farther and her climbing up my lap more until she’s at my waist. Her brows shoot to her hairline when she feels my hard cock under her, and I actually feel myself begin to blush from her non-verbal compliment.

  “I wasn’t going to give it all up tonight, but you’re making it hard to want to stop,” she admits, then adds, “no pun intended.”

  We both laugh, and it seems to ease any awkwardness that was in the air mixed with the lust floating around us. It’s obvious that we’re both attracted to each other and want this night to keep progressing. However, there’s also a little bit of resistance holding us back, both of our shyness proving it, but neither of us ready to stop yet.

  Gripping her hips in my hands, I pull her into me more and give her friction as I bring her in for a kiss, the humor gone for the moment as we kiss deeper. My hands round her hips to cup her full ass, squeezing her cheeks through her jeans. Our lips and tongues continue to duel as everything between us heats up more and more.

  Bringing my hands back around her hips, I pop open the line of buttons on the front of her jeans. Gently and cautiously, my fingers slide inside. We both moan when I feel her smooth pussy and reach her wet center.

  Her arms pull me in close, wrapping around my neck, her hands in my hair as our kisses intensify. She can’t seem to get close enough, and I can’t seem to get enough of her. Her hips rock and grind on me as my hand inside her pants teases and taunts her.

  When I push my hand down farther, my middle finger entering her, she stills. At first, I’m afraid I went too far, but then she asks why I stopped, her voice breathy against my mouth. I work her up more, sliding in and out, up and down, adding a second finger as I do. Her sounds let me know she’s close, and when she tightens around my fingers, I whisper for her to let go.

  Pulling away from kissing her, I watch as she comes, a pink flush working its way up from her chest to her cheeks. Her lips, swollen from our kissing, part as she falls, and she lets out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard. Slowly, I keep moving my fingers until she’s fallen completely and I’ve caught every second of her pleasure.

  When her eyes open to look at me, they’re glossy and clouded with lust, dark and beautiful. She’s beautiful.

  Slowly, I pull my hand free from
her. “Do you want to use the restroom to… you know?” she asks like she’s embarrassed.

  I smile at her. “No, I’m good,” I say before sucking the digits into my mouth and licking them clean. “Yum,” I grin, wagging my eyebrows up and down.

  “Oh, fuck, you’re one of those?” she asks as she lets her head fall back.

  Not able to stop anymore, I put my face into her exposed cleavage and lick up her sternum to her throat. “One of what?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her at the base of her neck.

  “You like the taste of women as much as the feel of them.”

  “Definitely,” I reply, my lips still pressed to her skin.

  “And you’re single, right?” she asks, tilting her head to the side to give me better access.

  “I was until tonight.”

  My response makes her pick her head up. I do the same, and we enter a stare-off.

  “For some reason, that doesn’t scare me.”

  “Good.” I smile. “Can I take you to brunch tomorrow?”

  She nods her head with a growing smile of her own. “I like pancakes.”

  After I said goodnight to Juniper and went home, I was so amped up. My adrenaline was on a high, and it felt so much like the kind I get after a game. And it wasn’t just from being horny either.

  This girl was stirring in me things I hadn’t felt in a long time. I’m still not sure if she knows who I am, but if she does, she hasn’t let on or is trying to fool me in some way. Everything about her screams authentic and genuine, and I can definitely use that in my life. All the same, the irony is not lost on me as to who she is compared to who I am.

  I’m standing outside her building, waiting for her to come down. I buzzed to let her know I was here to take her to brunch, and she said she’d be down in a minute. That was about five minutes ago. Not the kind of person who likes standing on public sidewalks for long, I’m getting antsy to climb back in the car that’s waiting to take us to eat, but I hold steady and wait for her like a gentleman.