January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (49 page)

I felt like a modern day Mother Teresa in fuck me pumps, a tight skirt, and a leather jacket. I snickered to myself and stepped drunkenly into the open living room. It was empty, but Mason’s suit coat was thrown over the back of the couch so I knew he was back. I tip toed to his room and saw a soft light shining through the two inches the door was open.

As I got closer, I heard some noises. My brain couldn’t quite seem to come up with the appropriate response to what I was hearing until it was right in front of me. Through the crack in the door there were two bodies. Mason was clearly on top of a woman, powering into her from behind.

“Fuck yeah, so tight,” he said. I watched, unable to look away as he slid a hand up the woman’s spine and into her blonde hair. He pushed it aside and that’s when I saw who was on her hands and knees. Rachel. Sweet, professional, Rachel was pressing her perfect little ass back into Mason while he plowed into her over and over. He curled a hand around her shoulder, and thrust hard. “Mine. You’re mine now, Rach. I’m going to take this sweet pussy every day for the rest of my fucking life,” he roared.

Rachel screamed, “Yes, God yes. Mace, so good. I’m gonna, I’m gonna, Oh my god.”

“That’s it baby,” Mason said before he lifted her up to wrap a hand around her breasts and tweak both her nipples. She had small breasts but they were the perfect handful and he seemed to enjoy them without complaint. I knew I should go, I shouldn’t stay and watch, but they were so beautiful. Unlike the erotic kinky show I saw the last time I caught Mason, this was something completely different. It was like watching art. Truly capturing the act of love.

Mason tweaked Rachel’s small nipples into tight little points. I bit my lip and squeezed my legs together. The space between my own legs was aching, wet, and desperate for attention. But I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t get myself off while watching them. That would be going too far.

Just as I started to back up and give them some privacy, Mason’s hand flew between her legs where the blonde hair was trimmed into a neat little line. He moved two fingers around and around and she arched back just as he hammered his way home. Both of them cried out in combined release. It was exotic, sensual, and something I wanted for myself more than anything. I just didn’t know who or when I’d find it. For a brief time this year I thought I had it, but now, I was back to square one and I was a free agent. I could be with whomever I wanted and so could Wes.

Wes. God, even the thought of his name sent a fresh pool of desire to moisten the flesh between my thighs.

Quickly running back to my room, I shut the door, and flung myself into bed. I didn’t want to do what I did next but I couldn’t help it. I pulled out my phone, brought up the pictures I’d taken of Wes and Alec and scrolled through their naked beauty. And then I touched myself. It took no more than thirty seconds and I was crying out, muffling my cries against my forearm, sinking my teeth into the robe and meat of my arm as the tremors washed over me.

It felt good while it lasted, but then lying there in the quiet of the room, the overwhelming feeling that hummed just under the surface was an unbelievable sense of loneliness. For the first time in my life, I was by myself, truly and utterly alone. 

Chapter 7

Sponsors for Mason came out of the woodwork after our big charity event. Turns out that when a young pro ball player goes philanthropist, every major sports related organization wants a piece of him. Rachel was fielding requests for interviews, ad campaigns, commercials and the like all week. Me, I played the part of pretty, devoted girlfriend while gorging on beer and baseball. It. Was. Awesome. Three weeks in and I was already bemoaning the fact that soon I was going to be leaving Mason and the easy life. Sure, I’d be sent to another rich guy who needed me for something else and the amenities would be great, but they wouldn’t be something I could wrap my arms around. Living with Mason, once we got past all his douche bag ways was really easy. He was funny, smart, and loved living life. I felt young for the first time in a long time. There was nothing for me to do except be me. Mason liked me for me. As a matter of fact, we got along like friends who had a long history, even though it had only been three weeks. We clicked.

The good news was that Rachel had been coming over more often. They were so unbelievably cute together. She was still shy and he made a point of bending over backward to please her. Made me wonder how this was all going to work out when I left. I mean the fans and the public had seen me for the last three weeks as the doting girlfriend, committed Red Sox fan, and the woman who helped her guy put on a huge charity event.

“Hey Mace, do you think we need to plan some type of public breakup?” I asked while pushing eggs around the frying pan. It was my turn to make breakfast and Mason ate a ridiculous amount of protein so I was cooking a dozen eggs for just the two of us, ten of which he’d gobble up, bacon, and I’d cut up some fruit.

Mason stole a piece of bacon from the plate I had sitting next to the stove and munched on it thoughtfully. “I don’t know. We should ask Rach. My guess would be that Rachel and I would keep our relationship under wraps for a few weeks so the public doesn’t see me hopping from one girl to another you know?”

I nodded, grabbed the shredded cheese and sprinkled some over the scrambled eggs then added some salt and pepper. “Makes sense. How is it going between the two of you anyway?” Not that I couldn’t hear the sexcapades from another state away. They could work to keep it down. I’d been in a permanent state of arousal all week just from hearing them through the walls.

He stole another slice of bacon and leaned next to the stove while I plated the food. Two eggs and two slices of bacon for me, ten eggs and four slices of bacon for Mason. I set the plates onto the bar top where we preferred to eat. The dining room seemed too formal for either of us.

“It’s going good.” He grinned. “Never knew such a wildcat was under all those suits, but damn if I’m not the happiest fucker around.”

I snorted and choked on my eggs. He slapped my back until it passed. “Wildcat? Seriously?”

He nodded, smiling so wide I could see every tooth. “Best lay I ever had.”

That earned him a punch to the arm. He rubbed it. “True though. She’s sweet and proper in her suits but the second I get her out of them, man Mia, that little blonde rocks my fuckin’ world.”

This time I grinned. “I’m so glad, Mace. Do you think it will turn into something?” I asked, keeping my own hope in check, trying not to show how excited I was for them.

He tipped his chin and nudged me with his arm. “It’s serious. I can’t imagine any other man putting his hands on her.” He shivered and groaned. “Makes me crazy just thinking about it. I figure, if thinking about her with another man makes me want to punch my fist through a wall, it’s gotta mean something. Right?”

“Right,” I agreed instantly.

“So, I gather I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow night when we’re in Seattle.”

Seattle.
We were headed to Seattle. Someone I cared a great deal about lived in that very city. “Seattle really?”

“Yep, plane leaves first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll be there for a couple days. Quick three gamer. Get your shit together, sweetness.” He cleared his plate so fast it was as if the eggs and bacon had been vacuumed up instead of eaten.

I licked my lips and the possibility of burning off some of the loneliness I’d felt this past week sparked in my mind like flicking on a light switch. “Hey, I uh have a friend in Seattle. While you and Rachel are you know, doing your thing, would it be okay if I had a friend over?”

Mason’s eyes widened and he grinned. “You’ve got a friend?”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Yeah, doesn’t everyone have friends?”

“What kind of friend,” he hedged with a hint of mirth to his tone. “A male friend.”

“Does it matter?” I shot back throwing some serious attitude. It wasn’t really any of his business and I didn’t plan on sharing.

He shook his head. “Nope, just teasing. I don’t care who you fuck; as long as the press don’t catch wind that my fake girlfriend is cheating on me, we’re good.”

That’s when I smiled and waggled my eyebrows. “I can be discreet.”

Mason licked his lips and smirked. “I’ll bet you can.”

***

Rain delay. Nothing but buckets were coming down when we landed and got to the field. The umps were holding the game and had been for the last hour. The fans however did not care one bit. The Mariners were diehards for their team and probably used to rain. Gave me time to text a certain sexy Frenchman I’d been missing.

To: Alec Dubois

From: Mia Saunders

Hey Frenchie…I’m in town for a couple days. You free to meet up tonight?

I could not believe I was doing this. I hadn’t spoken to Alec since I’d left almost two months ago. An hour later, I finally got a reply.

To: Mia Saunders

From: Alec Dubois

Ma Jolie, I will meet you anywhere, any place. Am I to assume this is what you American’s say a booty call.

Uncontrollable giggles left me at imagining Alec saying “booty call” with his French accent. I hugged the phone, already feeling lighter and no longer alone.

To: Alec Dubois

From: Mia Saunders

Are you interested?

To: Mia Saunders

From: Alec Dubois

Need you even ask? Wear very little. I want to see ta peau parfaite the moment you open the door.

Perfect skin. He wants to see my perfect skin. He always had a way of showing me how much he adored my body. I thought back to his fingertips caressing my naked hip up my waist and between my breasts. He would whisper beautiful French words into my ear as he touched me. Alec made me believe I was beautiful. In every way.

Immediately, I became heated, desire swirling thick in my veins as the anticipation of seeing Alec spiraled through every pore, tickled along each hair, caressing me with the essence of need.

Tonight, I would see my Frenchman. I could not wait!

***

I opened the door and there he was. Alec Dubois, my Frenchie. Before I could say hello, he grabbed me around the waist, pulled me into his chest, and lifted me off my feet. His lips were on mine and my legs wrapped around his trim waist. He turned, slammed the door shut then pressed me into it, deepening the kiss. The hardest part of him rubbed against the very space I wanted him most. I moaned, opening my mouth further. He took the invitation and swept his tongue inside to swirl against my own.

Until that moment, I’d forgotten how much I missed kissing Alec. When he kissed, he did it with everything he had to give…passion, desire, and grace. So much grace and beauty I could hardly breathe. He ripped his mouth away and set his forehead against mine.

“
Ma Jolie
, I have missed your love,” he whispered against my lips. Tears prickled against my eyes, and I caught his gaze. His eyes were golden yellow set with brown flecks that seemed to glow in this light.

I nipped his lips and nuzzled into his neck. “I’ve missed you, too, Alec. I had no idea how much until you were standing in front of me.” He curled his fingers into the nape of my neck and his thumbs swept across my chin and lips.

His eyes seemed to catalogue every facet of my face the way only an artist who’s extremely focused on details could. “You have been sad,
chérie
. Why?”

I shook my head, not wanting to get into it. “Later. For now, are you hungry, can I get you anything?”

Alec pressed his length firmly into my center. Beads of excitement roared from the middle out and through my limbs. I tightened my legs, bringing him closer. His eyes flashed with an intensity I’d missed. It was the look of a man who is desperate, Desperate to have his woman. “I have only the hunger to taste your sweet sex,
ma jolie
.” And there was my filthy Frenchman.

Without further ado, he led me to my suite and kicked the door shut. He placed a knee to the bed and then folded over, letting me down as if I was as precious as one of his paintings.

“Undress for me,” Alec said then stood. “I want to watch you expose your light.”

The way he spoke, the fire in his gaze, sent me spinning with lust. With absolutely no finesse, I lifted up to my knees and pulled the tiny dress I wore over my head. I wore nothing underneath, remembering his preference for little clothing and the lack of barriers.

“Vous êtes devenue plus belle.”
Alec spoke in French and the words slid along the surface of my skin as if he’d touched me, light as a feather but just as tantalizing. Even with my French rusty and lacking experience, I knew what he said. He told me I’d gotten more beautiful.

I shook my head. “Only through your eyes.”

He cupped my cheek. “You do not see yourself the same way the world sees you.”

I laughed. “
You
are not the world, Frenchie.”

Alec tapped my lip and I sucked his thumb into my mouth and swirled my tongue around the digit. His eyes darkened, the light no longer showing the golden tone of his amber gaze.

“Oh
chérie
, have you forgotten what you learned during our time?” he whispered, stripping off his t-shirt, exposing the square pecs I loved to sink my teeth into and the washboard abs that my fingers itched to trace.

“I haven’t forgotten how much I love your body.” I retorted, fisting my hands at my sides, my breasts heaving, becoming heavy and needy. Both his hands came out and lifted the twin globes, squeezing and molding them as if he was reacquainting himself with my body. A cry spilled from my lips when he swiped both thumbs across the turgid peaks. He inhaled deeply when close to my neck as if breathing in my scent.