Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2)
Read Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) Online
Authors: Celia Aaron,Sloane Howell
Contents
Bonus - Pirate Version Alternate Ending
Celia Aaron
Sloane Howell
Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell
Copyright © 2016 Celia Aaron & Sloane Howell
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Celia Aaron. Please do not participate in piracy of books or other creative works.
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Please store your files wisely, away from under-aged readers.
“I hit big or I miss big. I like to live as big as I can.”
- George Herman Ruth
N
IKKI
T
HIS LINGERIE SHOULD
have come with instructions. The black top criss-crossed across the front and back with several straps, which looked beyond cute on the model at the shop. Of course, at home, I’d managed to turn it into some sort of bondage get-up. It was supposed to be airy and light with skin showing through in an elegant tease. Instead, I appeared to have been trussed up and made to squeal like a pig.
“Damn!” I stripped it off my head and tried again.
“Nik, you okay in there?” Braden’s voice filtered through the door.
“I’m good. You’re really going to love it.”
“I love you naked. Anything else is extra. I’m hard as a rock in here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just be patient.”
“I’m patient.” He groaned. “But my dick’s not. How much longer?”
“Just a minute. Shush, momma’s busy!”
Focus
. Separating the strips of material, I slid the lingerie over my head, careful to put the front straps in front and the back in back. Once it was in place, I checked it in the mirror over the sink. Success. Something about just a little fabric always seemed sexier to me than full skin, though Braden would disagree. Ever since I’d moved in a month ago, he’d been trying to convince me that there should be a “home is where the clothes aren’t” rule. Though I’d refused to strip when I walked in the door every evening, he certainly did his best to make sure I was naked and beneath him as much as possible. And I didn’t mind it one bit.
I smiled at myself in the mirror and primped my blonde curls. It was our six-month anniversary, so I wanted to do something extra memorable. Super spicy sexy-times was the logical choice. And the lingerie I’d picked definitely fit the bill. It was slinky, sexy, and super slutty—in other words, it was perfect.
All I needed to complete the look was the black thong.
“Nik, my balls are turning a beautiful blue out here. You should see them. No, actually you should taste them. Really get the blueberry flavor.”
“Almost done!”
My feet slapped across the warm marble tile to the walk-in closet. I snagged the thong from the top of the hamper and gave myself another inspection in the full-length mirror along the back wall.
“What the fuck?” I stepped closer and glanced down to a single patch of blonde hair on my pussy. My usual waxing lady had been out earlier in the day, so my appointment had been with the aptly-named Helga. Her uni-brow was a thing of legend. But her waxing skills were not.
“No, no, no.” I shook my head. The tuft of hair was along the right side, completely out of place. Not a landing strip, more of a crash site. It had to go.
Braden wouldn’t care. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even notice. But I wanted everything to be perfect for our anniversary. I could fix it. I darted back into the bathroom and yanked out a drawer in the wide vanity. Digging around, I seized the self-waxing strips I’d bought when I’d feared I was sprouting a mustache. Turned out it was just a bit of smudged gelato on my upper lip.
I skimmed the instructions. “Blah blah blah, skin irritation, discomfort blah. Rip strip IMMEDIATELY after applying or risk chemical burn blah blah.” I set the box down and pulled out a pair of waxing strips, the adhesive parts stuck together.
Braden’s laugh rolled through the door.
“What?” I called and warmed the wax strips between my palms.
“Easton sent me a pic of Kasey’s face. She must have gotten trashed last night. He’s drawn the most anatomically correct dick on her cheek, and it really looks like the tip’s in her mouth. He put a caption: ‘Kasey’s First Blowie.’ There’s drool and everything.”
Easton, Braden’s best friend and teammate, had a sister who’d groped me countless times since the day we met. She was crude, hilarious, and beyond deserving of a deftly-drawn dick on the side of her face. I quirked a smile, but didn’t laugh. I was on a mission, after all.
I pulled the wax strips apart and dashed back to the full-length mirror. Raising my right leg, I positioned it on one of the shelves along the side of the closet. The patch of hair mocked me. I peeled the strips apart, so that I had two, each of them sticky on one side.
This will be easy.
I tried to put one of the strips down on top of the drawers, because I realized I only needed one to get the job done. But the thin plastic flipped up and it became stuck on the back of my fingers.
“Shit.” I glanced to the strip in my free hand. If I put it down, it could get stuck, too, and then I’d have to start all over again. Instead, I spread my leg wider and smoothed the strip onto the patch of hair. It went on easy, and my skin tingled just a little. I tried to grab it with my right hand and hold the skin tight with my left, but the fingers on my right hand were glued together from the spare strip.
Shaking my head at myself in the mirror, I put my leg down, and the edge of the plastic strip affixed to my pussy poked into my thigh. I crab-walked back to the bathroom and held the wax-stripped hand under the warm water. It loosened enough to where I could pull it off, but it left a gooey residue on my fingers. I sniffed it. It definitely did not smell like the organic wax used at Madame Muff’s House of Hairlessness.
