Out of the Game3 (11 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Alex got busy in the kitchen while Claire went upstairs to shower off the sunscreen. Grilled chicken breasts, salad and baked potatoes. A standby meal he could make in his sleep.

As he scrubbed the potatoes, he formed a loose plan. He’d get some bottles of water for afterward so they wouldn’t have to leave the bed. Maybe some cheese and crackers, too, to revitalize them—no wait. No crackers. Too messy. Fried chicken? There was still some of that left over. He loved leftover fried chicken. But it wasn’t very romantic. They had grapes and other fruit. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Sliced fruit and cheese was classy and Claire was nothing if not classy.

It was going to be fantastic. He couldn’t wait until after dinner.

But when she came down, he knew something was up. She volunteered to make the salad, but the shy, anticipatory vibe he’d been picked up from her at the pool was gone. She’d gone upstairs all systems go for sex and come back down the stairs with her “caution” sign out again.

Fuck. He’d have said, “I’m sorry. Whatever I did or said, I’m sorry,” but he’d been downstairs the whole time. It couldn’t have been his fault, unless he’d checked out someone’s ass on the way back to the cottage or something. But as far as he could remember they hadn’t passed a single soul.

By the time they actually sat down to dinner, he still didn’t have an answer as to why she’d buckled on the invisible chastity belt.

“This looks great,” she said, putting her napkin on her lap. “Thank you.”

“I hope the chicken’s not too dry.”

She cut into hers. “No, it looks perfect.”

The silence was palpably awkward and he realized he really missed the camaraderie they’d enjoyed until now. He’d gotten used to being able to joke around with her, chirp at will. It had been a type of fun that he couldn’t remember having with other women, the ones who had wrinkled their noses at his language or rolled their eyes at his teasing. Now that he thought about it, even though Claire wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes, it was...different. It was cute when she did it.

“You know,” she said, poking at her potato aimlessly. “I was wondering something.”

Here we go
, he thought.
Thank God.

“Yes?” His tone was casual and curious, completely opposite of his current mood. He felt like a fucking narc dog that just got a whiff of drugs on a breeze.

“I was noticing you’d posted pictures from yesterday on Twitter.”

He’d have thought she had a problem with an unflattering picture if he didn’t know he hadn’t posted
any
pictures of her. He’d gotten in trouble before for “showing the world my cellulite,” and other similar heinous crimes.

“Yes. I took some nice ones of The Narrows I wanted to share. The fans like it when we do shit like that, especially during the off-season.”

“Uh-huh.” She’d gone from poking the potato to nudging a cherry tomato around the plate.

He waited. There had to be more.

She sighed.

“Was there something wrong with the pictures?” he asked.

“No...”

“Then what? What the hell is wrong? Because something’s got your panties in a twist and I wish you’d just come right out and say what it is. The suspense is killing me.”

She’d finally looked up from her plate, frowning. “You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“No I won’t,” he answered, even though he was pretty sure that was a lie.

She glanced away. “You didn’t post any pictures of us. You only posted pictures of you.”

He stared at her. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “I can’t win. If I post pictures of a woman, she gets mad. If I
don’t
post pictures, she gets mad.”

“I’m not mad,” she said. “I’m...I don’t know...confused.”

“So am I. Help a dumb jock figure out what’s going on.”

She seemed to assess him with her eyes. “No laughing.”

“No laughing.”

She looked up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I...” She sighed. “Well, I noticed that you like posting pictures of yourself with beautiful women.”

Was she jealous? Was that it?

“Again, the fans like it,” he said. “At least the guys do. They like to live vicariously through me. You know...” He shrugged. “It makes them feel like we’re friends, buddies. That kind of thing grows the fan base for the team.” He squinted at her. “But I haven’t posted anything like that for a while, so...”

“And that’s exactly it.”

She said it like he should realize what the problem was, like she’d shown him an apple and just turned it to show the worm coming out of it, but truth was, he still had no idea what was bothering her. More proof that female brains and male brains were wired completely differently.

“Look, Cream Puff, I’m sorry. I don’t—” That’s when the light bulb went on. “Wait a second...shiiiiit. You’re upset because I
haven’t
posted any pictures of you.”

She lifted one shoulder slightly and he took that as a yes.

He got up and pulled her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled close, really burrowed in.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said.

“I don’t see how I could. The pictures aren’t there, but I know you took a bunch.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

Pulling away, she cut him off, put about three feet between them. “I know! I’m not young. I’m not a model. I’m not even a blonde anymore.”

He recoiled, horrified at the direction her mind had gone. “Are you kidding me? Listen and listen good.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Do you even know how gorgeous you are? I’ll answer that question. No, you don’t, or if you do, you don’t work it, and that’s one of the things I love about you. I’ve known a lot of women. A lot. And believe me when I say, some women—that’s all they’re about. Their entire identity is wrapped up in their looks. Not all beautiful women are like that, and you’re one of them. You don’t show off your beauty and expect people to fall at your feet or to give you a pass because you’re Helen of Troy. And that’s one of the things I admire most about you.

“So listen to me. I’m not your dickhead ex. I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself. In fact, do me a favor. The minute, the
second
I start putting expectations on you, I want you to tell me to fuck off. Will you do that? Tell me, ‘Alex? Fuck. Off.’”

She laughed and God, it was a welcome sound. He was getting through.

“Okay,” she said, her voice still not strong enough in its conviction for his peace of mind. “Does that include dragging me on crazy long hikes?”

“That’s different. If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to. My feelings about you won’t change if you don’t come, but I will say that my experience will be a thousand times better if you’re with me. But going back to the picture thing...here’s the deal. I didn’t post pictures of you on purpose. I wanted to. Believe me I wanted to, but I didn’t want to see you get nailed.”

“Nailed by who?”

“Well, like I said, most fans love seeing my personal pictures. It makes them feel like they’re a part of my life. But there are always a few assholes out there who feel like they can say anything they want because they forget I’m a real person. They attack me and they attack anyone they think I care about. If I posted a picture of us together, it’d be just like dangling raw meat in front of a shark.”

“But they wouldn’t know who I am unless you identified me.”

“They’d find out. Believe me. And it wouldn’t be hard. Other people, including your sister, will post pictures from the wedding. The haters would recognize you from there and put two and two together. They’d find your profile on Twitter and start harassing you. It’s the ugly side of fame and I didn’t...I didn’t want you to have to experience that.”

And there was that look again. That expression that turned his heart over and slapped it around like it was her bitch. It made him want to dance in the rain and sing happy songs like fucking Gene Kelly, but at the same time, it scared the shit out of him. This thing between them was gaining momentum, but he couldn’t seem to muster up the desire to stop it.

He was so fucked.

Chapter Sixteen

When, without a word, Claire grabbed his hand and led him to the stairs, Alex went along, suspecting, hoping he was about to get laid. When she brought him straight to her bedroom with no hesitation, his suspicion turned to certainty.

Hot fucking diggity dog.

He would worry about the relationship shit later.
After
the massive fuckfest that was about to occur. Tomorrow was soon enough to untangle all the emotions and ramifications. Tonight would be all about sex, glorious sex.

Without any preamble, she grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and lifted it. He took over and pulled it off himself. Then she pulled her own shirt off to reveal that magnificent rack in a peach-colored bra.

Soon. Soon he was going to lay eyes on her naked breasts. The anticipation reminded him of what he felt right before taking the ice, when he was waiting eagerly for “The Star-Spangled Banner” to be over with. So much had lead up to that moment—from waking up all the way to that “home of the brave” line. So much preparation and excitement...

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing her body against his. Caught up in her impatience, he went for it, parting her lips with his tongue and grabbing her ass with both hands. He squeezed and kneaded while grinding his erection against her. He fucking kissed her like her mouth was the only thing keeping him alive.

He unhooked her bra then grabbed her ass again and slid his hands up her sides until his thumbs were grazing the underside of her tits. He felt like a virgin who didn’t know what to do first.

The decision was taken out of his hands when she broke the kiss and stepped back. Slack-jawed, he watched as she tugged on the bra straps and let that sucker fall to the floor.

His hands were on her breasts a nanosecond later.

Holy fucking shit. He almost lost his mind.

Sometimes his computer froze because it was trying to process too many things at once and that’s what was going on in his brain right now. Her breasts were perfect. Big and heavy. And so, so soft. He lifted them with his hands and buried his face between them. He wouldn’t have minded suffocating there.

Welcome to Titty Nirvana
,
Mr.
Sullivan.
Population:
2.

He turned and licked her nipple. He took it into his mouth and sucked until it was a tight little nub. His reward was her hands sliding through his hair and gripping his head, not to mention the throaty moan that entered his ears and went straight to his fucking balls. He tongued the tip, nipped it, teased it then did the same thing to the other one. Claire sounded like she was going to go off from just his mouth on her breasts.

They parted, both panting. Alex took stock of the situation. All this time his Plan A had been to take it slowly. She’d told him about her lack of confidence and he’d blown it by joking about it. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. He’d meant to extend foreplay and get her as hot as she could get without combusting before giving her a couple of orgasms with his mouth and/or fingers. Then, only when she was limp and still tingling from climax, would he push his cock into her and draw it out as long as possible.

However, that had been before she’d dragged him upstairs to her bedroom and stripped their shirts off. Plan A took a back seat now as he stared at her breasts, the nipples shiny and hard and reddened. The sound of her breathless moans still echoed in his head and his cock was reminding him how long it had been since it had seen action that didn’t involve a firm grip and his imagination.

She reached for the button on her jeans. Without breaking eye contact, he did the same. They unzipped. He smiled. She smiled back. He was tempted to ask if she was going to take off her panties
and
her jeans, but didn’t want to break the spell of silent communication and plus, it didn’t really matter. That saying “it’s all good” applied here.

He straightened and stepped out of his jeans and briefs. He kicked them away. When he looked up, she was naked too.

Without thinking, he took her back into his arms and plastered his mouth to hers. The kiss was deep and desperate. She reached down and took his cock in her hand and he groaned into her mouth. Despite the fact that her touch electrified him, he maintained enough brain function to walk her to the bed and ease her to the mattress.

She parted her legs as he settled some of his weight on her as his cock found its way to her crease. It felt so damn good. She was so wet and hot. Rubbing himself against her, he reveled in her moans and the feel of her thighs flanking his hips, urging him to keep going. All it would take was a deft shift of angle and he’d be in.

Fuck, he wanted that.

But he never took chances. Hundreds of sexual encounters and not once had he gone unprotected, not even if the girl swore she was on birth control. No way was he going to be an accidental dad, not if he could help it.

He smiled down at her. “Okay, don’t go anywhere. I have to get condoms, but I’ll be right back. They’re in my room and I’m fast. Running, I mean. I’m a fast
runner.
”

“Alex, wait.” She grabbed his forearm. And she wasn’t smiling.

Fuuuuuck. Was she changing her mind? If she was, he honestly thought he might have to go into his bathroom, lock the door and cry.

“Claire, sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me what the problem is and we’ll solve it together, whatever it is.”

“I just...” She flung a forearm over her eyes. “I told you before. I’m just still worried I’ll be bad. You’ve had so many women and it would only be human nature to have some sort of sexual experience hierarchy and to have certain expectations...”

Jesus. He wanted to slap himself in the head because he’d forgotten about her hang-up. He also wanted to laugh because only Claire would come up with a term like “sexual experience hierarchy.”

He took her by the shoulder and turned her so they were facing each other, on their sides.

“Okay, listen to me,” he said. “I’m going to tell you the God’s honest truth because that’s the kind of guy I am. I shoot straight with people.”

He saw her tense up, but there was nothing he could do about that. He wasn’t going to lie to her.

“Honestly, there are good fucks and bad fucks. But I don’t blame the woman for the bad ones. Ever. Usually it’s just a matter of compatibility, like when the coach changes up the lines. Sometimes you click with someone. The communication is there or you just sense what the other person’s going to do or wants you to do. And sometimes you don’t. You’re talking to each other, you’re making eye contact, you know the plays, but you just can’t seem to get in sync. In cases like that, there’s no hard feelings. It’s no one’s fault. You get me?”

“Yeah. I get you. If it’s not good, it’s not my fault.”

“Exactly. It’s not mine either. It’s like...it’s like the quiche thing! If I don’t like it, it won’t be the quiche that’s bad. It’ll just be that me and it didn’t click.”

Her slow smile was the clouds parting and the sun’s rays shining down on the land. Thank God.

“You
will
like my quiche,” she said.

“And we
are
going to click. We’re going to click ourselves right into next week. Right after I get a condom. I’ll be right back.”

“No, wait. I have some here. In the nightstand.”

Scooting over on his belly, he opened the drawer and found the biggest box of condoms he’d ever seen. He suppressed a laugh. Sixty-four condoms. Jesus. He didn’t know whether he should be intimidated or flattered.

“Claire. Wow. Did you, ah, buy these at a warehouse store?”

“No. I went into that sex shop at the mall.”

“You? Went into the sex shop? Did you buy anything besides condoms?” he asked, tearing one open.

“Like what?”

“Like anything. Naughty lingerie. Toys. DVDs. Lube.”

“No. I just got the condoms. You’ll have to make do without all that other stuff.”

He had rolled on the protection by now. “Not a problem. I’m perfectly happy with what we’ve got.” He sat with his back against the headboard. “Come straddle me.”

She came over on her hands and knees. He stared at her swaying breasts.

“Okay, now,” she said, “just be real gentle, because I heard it can be painful if you haven’t done it in a long time. For women, I mean.”

“Shit.” He blinked at her. “Really? I never heard that.”

She shrugged.

“Damn it. Now,
I’m
the one who’s nervous. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled. “I think if we’re careful, it’ll be okay.”

“We should definitely fool around more. You need to be really wet.”

She smiled bigger. “Alex, I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life.”

He reached down and palmed her to find she was still pretty damned wet. She moved against his hand. Oh yeah. His arm was at an awkward angle, but he didn’t care. Her pussy was slick and hot. He slid two fingers along the sides of her clit and she shuddered and closed her eyes.

“You like that.”

She didn’t answer.

He slipped a finger inside, carefully, watching her face for discomfort. “Does that hurt?”

She tensed at first, then relaxed. “No. It feels good.”

“Good.” He slid the finger in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. When he thought she was ready for more, he changed it to two fingers. “Still okay?”

She nodded. She’d begun rocking against his hand. He curled his fingers, searching for her G-spot. Found it. She gasped softly and her grip on his shoulders got tighter. Again, this angle wasn’t the easiest, but years of gripping a hockey stick had made his hands and forearms extremely strong. If they handed out awards for giving G-spot orgasms, he’d have won several.

It wasn’t long before she was panting. Her face was flushed, her lips parted. Her slender throat was exposed as she tipped her head back. God, she looked sexy.

And she was close. He could tell. He could feel the telltale clutch of her pussy around his fingers and hear the hitches in her breath. He pressed harder against the G-spot, rubbed it like a son of a bitch until she stiffened and dug her fingers into his shoulders. She let out short cries as she came. Alex bit his lower lip and rode it out. His entire groin area ached.

When she finally opened her eyes, he wished he had a camera. But then even if he
had
a camera, he wouldn’t have wasted time taking fucking pictures, not when he could be easing his dick inside her.

“Alex...oh my God, what was that?”

He grinned. “An orgasm. The first of many.”

Putting his hands on her hips, he gently guided her up so he could angle himself. When her pussy kissed the tip of his cock, it took every ounce of willpower he had to not grab her hips and jam her down onto it. He’d come this far, overcome so many hurdles, he was not going to screw it up now.

Instead, he let her take control. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as she lowered herself a little bit, then lifted. She did it again, this time taking a little bit more of him inside. Over and over she did this and it was driving him so insane, he began to give himself a mental talking to like he did before games.

You’re the man
,
Alex.
You can do this
,
because you know what?
That is not a tight
,
wet pussy closing around your cock and swallowing it up.

And even if it was
,
you don’t feel a thing.
You feel absolutely nothing.
This is not the sweetest fucking feeling you’ve ever felt in your whole fucking life.
It’s nothing special at all.
You could be shaving right now or sitting at a red light.

He was gritting his teeth and focusing his gaze on a spot on the opposite wall. His arms were shaking from the effort of keeping the pressure on her hips light and easy.

After what seemed like an hour of this torture, finally,
finally
he was all the way in.

“You okay?” Christ, his voice sounded like he hadn’t had a drink of water in a week.

“Are
you
okay?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“I am too. I’m more than fine. I’m superb.”

“Can we move now? Please?”

In reply, she rose up, paused for one excruciating moment, and slowly sank down again.

Ah, fuck. This was the life. He reached for her breasts, lifting one so he could take the tip into his mouth. She arched her back and drew in a hissing breath as he nibbled and sucked, loving the feel of the tight little nub between his lips and on his tongue. He kissed her neck, her ear, her mouth as she slid her fingers deep into his hair. She rocked against him the whole while, her thighs tight against his flanks.

“Is this good?” he asked, rolling her nipples with his thumbs now. “You getting tired? You want to switch it up? Here, move with me.”

Holding onto her hips, he scooted down until he was on his back, bent his knees and planted his feet on the mattress. “This is perfect. God, this is good. You look so damned gorgeous.”

She blushed.

“Lean forward now. Brace yourself, hands on my chest. I can take your full weight. Yeah. That’s it. Okay, Cream Puff, here we go.”