Full Court Press

by J Akridge

  “Kelsi.” My body stills. My stomach drops. I’d know that voice anywhere.

  I risk a glance at my sister, who has stopped dancing and has anger etched in her face. I slowly turn, coming face to face with the one man I couldn’t care less to ever see again.

  “Kyle.” I cross my arms, trying to appear unbothered by the fact that my son’s father is now standing in front of me. I haven’t spoken to him in five years. Not since he told me to drive myself to the hospital. He didn’t call, never came by once we left the hospital. I left him one voicemail letting him know we were being released, he didn’t even bother to return that call. Fucking prick.

  “How’s our boy?” He smirks, knowing he’s crawling under my skin at the mention of my son.

  “Not our boy, Kyle. He’s my boy. You lost that right a long time ago.” I cross my arms over my chest and try to stand tall against him.

  “Oh, cut the shit, Kels. You know I didn’t want a fucking kid, but you just had to get knocked up. I saw my out and I took it.”

  I falter at his admission. I knew he didn’t want children, but accidents happen, and we got far too drunk one night and forgot a condom, but to hear him flat out say he doesn’t want my son, one of the sweetest boys I’ve ever met, well it hurts. It breaks my heart. Not for me, but for Carson’s sake. I didn’t care to have this man in my life again, but it sucks that Carson has to grow up without a father. I never listed Kyle on the birth certificate and didn’t push the issue with child support because I didn’t want Kyle to have any ties to him, not if he truly didn’t want him. Never showing up for him, proves he didn’t want him.

  “Then why the fuck are you here, Kyle?” Chrissy says, stepping up beside me, her hand on the small of my back, giving me assurance to keep going and to not back down.

  “It’s a bar, Chrissy. Why the fuck are you here?” He stares my sister down.

  “We –” she gestures to each of us, “were invited.”

  “Oh yeah?” He crosses his arms and smirks, disbelief present in his tone. “Who would invite you?” He glances to my other side, where Jen has now stopped her little rendezvous on the dance floor to join the argument. “Ah, that makes sense. Good ole slutty Jen got ya in here, huh?” I tense at his mean words to my best friend and I’m about to step forward to say something when I’m stopped in my tracks by a hand on my elbow.

  “Me,” a deep voice rumbles from behind me. I feel him step up directly behind me and slightly to my left. I turn my head, confirming who I suspected. Landon Prince.

  The smirk on Kyle’s face slowly fades and, I admit, it brings me joy to see him so shocked.

  “You girls ready to head to VIP?” He steps in front of me, cutting Kyle out of the conversation. His hand slowly slides up my arm, softly pushing me forward. Jennifer, Gabby, and Chrissy are already moving toward the stairs.

  The bouncer tugs on the red velvet rope, allowing us to pass.

  “Thanks, Rob,” Landon says as we pass him.

  His hand remains on the small of my back as we take the steps to the top floor. Up here is a completely different vibe than on the dance floor. It’s quiet, but you can still hear the music from below. Large couches are positioned around the room. Half-naked women are surrounding most of the players that I recognize. Cal King has two sitting on his lap, a big-ass smile on his face.

  “We can sit here.” Landon points to an open couch across from the one occupied by Cal. A waitress approaches, setting four glasses of red wine in front of us.

  “This is different,” Chrissy says as she looks around the room.

  “I could die and go to heaven right now. I’d still be a happy bitch,” Jen says. She smiles at Cal, who shuffles his way out from under the girls who were previously occupying his time. They get up immediately and move to another couch with another player. Typical groupies and completely gross.

  “And why don’t you come sit by me, pretty girl,” Calsays with a southern drawl and I immediately know that Jen will be occupied for the rest of the night.

  “We’re going to head back down to the dance floor.” My sister stands and grabs Gabby’s hand. “Will we be okay to get back up here?” She directs her question to Landon.

  “Yeah, if you have any issues just tell Rob to ask for me; he’s the bouncer at the stairs.” My sister winks and then rushes back down the stairs. We have a pretty good view of the dance floor from up here. I watch my sister move to the center of the dance floor, her arms stretching above her as she begins dancing with Gabby. The alcohol is starting to allow Gabby to let loose, but I know she won’t drink more than the two shots we had when we first arrived. I sip my red wine as I watch them both.

  “Sorry about your shirt at the game.” I look up to meet Landon’s eyes. He looks embarrassed. “Sometimes I lose my shit when we play the Knicks. I got carried away trying to keep the ball out of their hands.” He places an arm behind me on the top of the sofa. I knew he was a huge guy, but being directly next to him is different. He has that easy, bad boy vibe to him. His smirk is lethal, one side of his mouth lifting slightly higher than the other. He’s dangerous with a capital D, the kind of guy who’s a total hottie regardless of what he does. A simple act of leaning on the couch makes him look like a sin. Which he probably is.

  “It’s fine, really. I got a new shirt, no harm no foul.” I smile at him. He stares at me a moment longer, his gaze bouncing between my eyes.

  “But technically it was a foul.” He winks then reaches for his beer. I watch as he swallows. His Adam’s apple moves flawlessly, up and down. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from here, just south of the city.” I put my wine glass to my lips, taking a long swig to keep from fidgeting my fingers.

  “Who was the prick down there?” He tips his chin toward the dance floor. I look out to find Gabby and Chrissy dancing away, but Kyle stands at the edge of the dance floor, an annoyed look on his face.

  “Just someone from my past.” I turn my attention back to Landon.

  Chapter Five

  It’s nearly 1:00 in the morning and the VIP section of the bar is packed. Girls are starting to slur their words, and some have even straddled a few of the players.

  “Hey, Kels. I’m gonna get out of here. The players are staying at the same hotel as us.” Jennifer glances behind her to Cal, who is pressed up against her back, his arm snaked around the front of her. “Gabby and Chrissy shot out about an hour ago.” I look around, I hadn’t even noticed that my sister left. I’ve been chatting with Landon all night. “See ya tomorrow,” Jennifer says as they walk away from where we’re seated on the couch.

  “I guess I should get going too.” I turn to Landon. I’m extremely tipsy at this point but not too drunk to ignore the reaction that his gray eyes bring up when he stares at me this way. Just being this close to him has me on edge.

  “Or –” he pauses, “you could come with me.” He’s leaned in slightly; his breath brushes against my lips. My focus is shot with him this close to me.

  Am I really capable of a one-night stand? I haven’t been with anyone since Kyle, nor have I had an attraction for anyone since. The risk of attachment just wasn’t worth it. This could be good though, considering nothing would come of an NBA basketball player and a small elementary school teacher. No commitment. But sitting here with Landon feels completely normal; I never imagined a one-night stand but it feels natural with him. We’ve just spent the evening discussing the basketball game and what type of music we like. The conversation is natural, not forced. And for once, I’m not completely worried if what I say will set him off and I’m not bracing myself for the reaction that will hurt my feelings the way Kyle always did.

  Before I’m able to overthink the entire situation and tell Landon I can’t, his lips crash down on mine and all my thoughts are erased because the only thing I feel are his lips moving, his hand moving up my side and into my hair. He tastes like mint mixed with beer and it should be disgusting but it’s exotic and my new drug of choice.


  I kiss him back and lean against the back of the couch; he shifts his weight on top of me and his hand runs down my arm, leaving chill bumps behind.

  He breaks away from the kiss, leaving me panting and frustrated until I realize we are in the middle of the VIP section and everyone can see us making out. Not that any of them are paying any attention, they’re all so engrossed in their own make-out sessions to pay us any attention. I’ve never made out with anyone in such a public setting before, especially not someone I met only hours ago. I look back up to Landon, trying to find the confidence to do something fun for one night. To act outside of my normal behavior. I need to live and let live, at least just this once.

  “Let’s get out of here.” My voice sounds husky as I speak, and the words sound foreign coming from my mouth. Landon’s eyes darken before he groans and pulls himself off me. Reaching for my hand, he pulls me to stand, and we shuffle through a back exit that I hadn’t noticed. I’m sure this is how all the players sneak in and out of the bar, it’s secluded and leads to an alley.

  The hotel we’re staying at is just across the street, but Landon hails a cab that pulls directly in front of us.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as he holds the door open, allowing me to slide onto the leather seat before he enters. My anxiety begins to bubble to the surface, but I press the doubt down.

  He rambles an address to the cab driver, who nods and pulls into traffic. Landon turns to look at me, his hand slowly sliding up to my cheek. His eyes are bouncing back and forth between mine, and I can’t quite gauge what I’m seeing in them.

  “We’re going to my place.” I must look shocked when his words register because he lets out a small laugh before placing his lips against mine once more.

  Damn, he’s such a good kisser. I thought Kyle was good but it’s like Landon knows exactly what I need before I even realize it. His hands roam my body, causing me to pant. I’ve never felt this way before during a simple make-out session.

  The cab rolls to a stop in front of a large house. The front gate is closed, but the home behind it is lit up and absolutely stunning. Large white columns line the porch of the house; black shutters offset the white of the siding. I look around and realize the driveway is lined with large oak trees that create a path leading up to the house. The landscape is pristine and well taken care of, I’m sure he has a crew that comes and makes his life easier in those aspects. I’ve never seen a true plantation home in person, just in movies or magazines. I’m actually stunned that he lives outside of the city. I just expected most athletes to have condos in the city.

  “My sister lives in the guest house, at the back of the property. She won’t be home until Sunday, she’s staying with her boyfriend before flying out tomorrow morning to see our mom.” He types a pin number into the gate and it slowly slides open.

  “I thought you all were staying at the hotel?” I ask, confused at why he brought me here.

  “Typically, the organization will get us hotel rooms after a game because they know the after-party will go all night. We can crash there and it’s usually close to the arena.” He looks over at me. “I’ve never brought a girl to my house before.”

  I gauge his expression, trying to tell if he’s being truthful with me or not. I turn my attention back to his home.

  My breath catches as I really take in the sight of this huge house in front of me. It’s far different than what I just recently purchased, but still has a homely feel to the outside. We move up the driveway and I wait as he opens the garage door. Two vehicles come into view. A large, white Yukon with extremely dark windows and black rims sits in one bay, while the other is a new Jeep Wrangler. It’s hunter green in color and I can already tell I wouldn’t see over the front end without a booster seat.

  Landon moves through the garage to enter the house. We step into a cluttered mud room with clothes littered along the floor against the wall, several gym bags tossed to the side, and some shoes scattered sporadically throughout. Not what I expected; I just assumed all professional athletes had a cleaning service for them.

  “Sorry about the mess, I recently fired my cleaning crew and I’m a shit housekeeper.” I laugh at his admission but it also answers my question of his cleaning service. We move through the house and stop in the kitchen, where he grabs two bottles of water, handing one to me before he twists the cap off and takes a large drink. I watch that damn Adam’s apple bob up and down again and I’m mesmerized.

  He chuckles, which catches my attention, and I realize I’ve been caught openly staring him down, again. But, my god, who wouldn’t? He sits his water down on the counter then makes a move to grab mine. He’s back in front of me within an instant and then his hands slide slowly down my body as he bends and lifts me effortlessly to sit on the counter. He steps between my legs and his lips smash into mine. That scent, mint and beer, is clouding my thoughts and I can feel the heat everywhere.

  I’m just going to pretend that I’m only this horny because it’s been six years since a man has touched me, and well “Vonda the Vibrator” just doesn’t come close to the real thing. Yes, I named my vibrator. Don’t you?

  My hands fly through his hair and I pull slightly; he releases a groan. His hands skim under my shirt, slowly sliding it up, then over my head. He tosses it to the ground and steps back to look at me, his eyes roaming my body, and suddenly I’m self-conscious. No one has seen me since I’ve given birth, but thankfully the lights are dim. Landon’s eyes continue their search before he steps back in and undoes the button of my jeans. He reaches behind me and lifts me back to the ground. My hands fly up his shirt and he pulls from the collar of his neck and over his head, discarding his shirt to the floor with mine.

  He steps into me; I can feel how hard he is. He walks me backward until I hit a closed door. His hand reaches for the knob and he spins me as we enter. Our hands are all over each other; I move to pull my pants down and he does the same. We’re standing directly in front of each other in nothing but our underwear.

  My mind takes over when he groans, and I feel a surge of confidence I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I reach behind me, unhooking the clasp of my bra, and allow the lace fabric to fall over my shoulders and to the floor at my feet. His eyes flash with need when he looks at my breasts, but I don’t stop, and he stands back, watching my little strip tease carefully. I hook both my thumbs in the band of my thong and thank God I wore sexy underwear today. I slowly pull them down, past my thighs and to my knees, until they join my bra. I stand back to my full height and I’m tackled to the bed in the next instance.

  A laugh escapes me as he lands on top of me, careful to maneuver his weight so he isn’t crushing me, all two-hundred-and-twenty pounds of muscle. He moves slower down my body, kissing my neck, then my collar bone, moving to the swell of my breast before his tongue darts out and barely grazes my nipple. The feeling alone sends heat to the one spot I need him near the most. He takes my nipple in his mouth, causing my back to arch and my hands to tangle in his hair. A soft moan leaves my lips as he raises his hand to the other nipple.

  He kisses damn near every inch of me, before settling a kiss to each inner thigh. He blows a soft breath onto my center, causing me to moan. I grip the sheets tighter between my fingers. It’s never felt this way before. I feel pleasure before he’s even really touched me.

  I’m waiting for a soft tease, the way he played with my nipple, but instead I’m greeted with a full lick from bottom to top. The sudden touch about sends me off the bed, but Landon grips my hips, holding me in place, and spreads my legs to get him better access. He continues to lavish my pussy and I’m so close.

  “Give it to me, baby,” he growls as his tongue rocks back and forth against me, his words sending me over the edge into a blissful pleasure.

  I’m breathing hard when I’m finally able to catch my breath from that high. Landon wastes no time climbing up my body. He slides his boxers down and I reach out to wrap my hand around him as he grabs a condo
m from the nightstand. My hand moves up and down, slowly, and I never break eye contact with him. He leans over me and places a deep kiss to my lips. I can taste myself on him and typically the thought of this would gross me out, but I’m more turned on in this moment. He nudges my hand aside to put the condom on.

  He aligns himself at my entrance; one of my hands rests on his bicep while the other is against his chest. He slides himself in slowly, never taking his eyes from mine as he does. Once he’s fully in, his eyes close briefly and his forehead falls to mine.

  “Damn, baby. This feels too good.” He holds himself in place, and seeing him battling to hold it together gives me courage. I wrap my legs around him, shifting him deeper, and he releases the breath he’d been holding. His gray eyes are pinned on mine and I slowly move my hips in a rhythm that causes my breathing to pick up. The sensation builds and it finally knocks him out of his trance. He rocks his hips faster with each stroke.

  We’re both sweaty, both of us on edge, begging for more from each other.

  “Come for me, baby,” he pants as his hips hit harder, his words sending me where I need them, his begging me to come giving me a high. “Come with me,” he roars, and that sends me flying over the edge, I’m positive my eyes roll to the back of my head. Landon falls to me, crushing me beneath his weight, his chest moving rapidly.

  He rolls to the side after several minutes; we’re both still struggling to catch our breath. That was the best orgasm of my life.

  “Hang on a second.” He rolls out of bed, then walks toward what I assume is the bathroom. It’s extremely dark in his room but he’s turned the bathroom light on so it gently lights up the room. I take the time to survey it all. His bed is massive, covered in dark-gray sheets with a crisp white comforter set. His furniture is a deep-brown wood that contrasts perfectly with his bedding. There is a framed picture of his sister with who I’m assuming is his mother. Both are identical to each other, with long blonde hair, one just slightly older than the other. He has several framed jerseys on the wall, signed by various players of the present and the past.