Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (57 page)

BOOK: Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories)
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Once inside my apartment I stripped the elegant gown
off
and felt the need for a cold shower.  It was my
own
impulses that got me into this mess, and now I wondered how I would get out of them.

I can’t say I enjoy cold showers, but they always help kill the mood.  I wondered if perhaps it was my
own
hormones starting to affect my mood in some fashion. 

 

2.

I was still a little angry when I woke up.  My phone had still not been turned
on,
and I
deigned
to do so.  Still, I had a business that needed to
be run
, so begrudgingly clicked on the device.

It flashed to life and delivered several text
messages
and voice mails that I could already tell weren’t from prospective clients.  I wasn’t interested in reading anything from Viktor, today.  So, I crammed the phone in my purse.

The wind blew cold through the window I had forgotten to close; which was odd, as I rarely opened that window, but I have been known to forget my
own
actions in the past.  The rush of cold air perked up goosebumps on my naked skin, and I relented to putting clothes on.

My dress lay on the floor, still in a heap, waiting for me to take proper care of it. 
I wasn’t too keen on having so expensive a thing get destroyed so soon, so I plucked it from its rest and hung it in the closet.

I wasn’t sure what it was that I saw, but
I
know I saw something out of place once again.  My shoes, which I
normally
keep in proper order, had somehow found themselves disheveled.  A few of my dresses as well were shoved to the wrong side of the closet, as well. 

It only took a moment to put them back, but still frustrating to have even a minor amount of cleaning that need be done so early in the morning. 

I kept having a nagging feeling in the back of my
brain;
it kept telling me to get out of there; just put everything down and leave,
go see
Viktor.  Still, my anger at him for being what he
was denied
me the comfort of that possibility. 

However, just because I didn’t want to go to Viktor for help didn’t mean I wouldn’t find some
sort of
safe haven
to assuage my mounting nerves. 

I dressed for work in a flash, even taking a minute to enjoy my outfit in the mirror before leaving.  I always did look good in darker red
clothing;
it mixed well with my darker skin tone. 

A creak from the hallway snapped me from my mindless admiring, and I felt a greater urgency to leave. 

I took a quick peek into the
hallway
of my building, which was thankfully empty, and figuring it safe enough,
left
my apartment. 

The safest place I knew was my gallery, I knew every nook and cranny, every sight and sound; it was home.  It sat a fairly close two blocks away from my apartment, which was as far as I really would consider walking in the city.

I could already make out the
familiar
glass viewing windows, and spectacular pieces I had arranged for all to see.  

I whipped out my keys and tore open the door, immediately shutting and relocking the
heavy
glass portal behind me.  I figured the glass
would, at least,
let me see people coming.

My phone buzzed again, and I once again ignored it.  I knew it was still Viktor trying to get my attention.  With a sigh of
relief,
I made way for my office in the back room of the gallery, and a twist of the key brought me into the
inviting
cubby that was my
office
.

It truly was a cozy place, as I had enough room to sit at my desk for paperwork when the need arose, or to stretch when too much work
needed
to
be done
.  Familiar receipts and documents littered the walls and the desk, still demanding my attention.  A fresh piece sat against the wall, still wrapped in butcher paper while it waited for a spot in the gallery.

I plopped down
on
the chair and shut the door behind me, and enjoyed the solitude.  I knew I would have a few people visiting today
to possibly purchase
some of the work
I
had displayed and I readily awaited their calls. 

I figured now was the best time to go through the mountain of messages that I had received.  I retrieved my phone, yet again, from my purse and began to scroll through my missed messages.  More than twenty from Viktor, and another three voice messages from him as well.  However, there was a single message from an unknown number.

Knowing that it may be a client I decided to tap
on
it, and doing so I let out a scream of fright.  It was a photo of me, getting into the car at the party last night.  I could even make out Viktor’s silhouette in the foreground chasing after the car.

The phone flashed
again,
and another photo popped up on the screen from the same number.   It frightened me to find another
photo
of me, but
this time,
I was lying in bed, naked.  I could tell the
photo
had been taken last night, as the dress I had worn the previous night
was still crumpled
on the floor in the
photo

I dropped my phone, hoping this was some
kind of
prank that was
being played
, but then I remembered what Viktor was talking about last night and began to have a panic attack.  My breathing became incredibly shallow as I lowered myself to the floor with my back against the door.

The phone vibrated on the floor again, and I felt the urge to leave and find the police.  But, I hesitantly reached for it and examined the caller.  It was Viktor.

I hastily answered the phone.

“Viktor, what the hell is going on,” I screamed, “why
am
I receiving photos of myself from last night?

“Brandy, this is
very important
, you need to delete all the messages I sent you from last night as quickly as possible.  I’m on my way to your apartment right now.”

“I’m at the gallery,” I said.

“Okay, stay right there and I’ll be there in a few minutes.  Don’t open the door for anyone.” 

The phone went
silent,
and I did as I
was told
.  I scurried through my phone and removed all the messages I had received. 

Then I heard a knock on the window out front.  I was scared
to even look
out the back room door, let alone open the front door.  Still, I did my best to keep my composure as I stepped out from my office.

I recognized the man at the front
door,
it was Ivan.  He was a client I had scheduled a
meet with
.  I let out a sigh, which did little to calm my nerves, and straightened my dress.  I had known Ivan for more than half a
year,
and he was one of my better customers.  I knew I could trust him
with in
my situation.

I unlocked the
door,
and he inched it open from the outside. 

“Ivan, so
good
to see you, could we perhaps reschedule for another day? 
This is not a good time
.

I choked out the words and I think he could tell I was nervous.

“Is something wrong,” he asked, “I know it’s short notice but I
really
need a gift for my friend.  Vodka is a great gift for a
friend,
but it shouldn’t be the only gift.  Let me buy something quickly, eh?”

I relented.  He had a
nice
smile,
and I couldn’t see him as anything more than harmless.  He strolled
in,
and I locked the two of us in the gallery to make sure nobody would try to enter that I didn’t know. 

With a quickened pace he walked along the walls of paintings and took a quick glance at many of them he hadn’t seen before.  I followed, with one eye watching him, and the other watching the door. 

He paused in front of a piece, a blotchy red design.  It was a painting I had received from a newer artist in the area, and the style wasn’t incredibly
popular,
but I couldn’t help it, the art spoke to me.

“How much for this?”

“$10,000,” I replied. 

He tilted his head and nodded.

“I like this, and I believe he will too, write it
up,
and I’ll be on my way.”

He produced his checkbook from his
pocket,
and I walked toward the back room.  I rummaged for the paperwork he would need to sign, but as I searched I felt a pair of hands grabbing me from behind.

My mouth
was covered
in
a
handkerchief,
and my abdomen was being squeezed so tight it was hard to breathe.  I struggled for a breath of fresh air, but in
moments,
I could feel myself drift off to sleep.

 

3.

The light spilled in through the windows in the bedroom, the shadows from the curtains danced across the floor, and Viktor, in all his glory, stood still in front of me. 

I could feel his eyes burning through me, melting what little inhibitions I had.  His tough and scarred skin barely contained the muscle flexing beneath as he held his arms open, waiting for an embrace.

I stepped slowly, as though floating, in the darkened room.  I felt my long black hair waving in the breeze that filtered in, and I realized my
own
nakedness. 

A burning was building deep inside
me,
and it needed
release

I threw my arms around Viktor, planting my head into his masculine chest, and
he, in turn,
held me tight.  He craned his neck and leaned in for a
kiss;
I accepted thoroughly.  Our
tongues
locked in a duel for more as he grabbed me by the back of my head, pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

My breath was becoming short as he released me from his grasp, and threw me upon the bed that waited patiently for our arrival. 

The silken sheets spilled to the floor, and I could feel myself sinking, falling into the comfortable bed.  I was becoming hot with anticipation as I awaited my lover to join me.

He crawled on the
overly large
mattress toward me, as a blue halo of moonlight silhouetted his form.  I couldn’t hold back my excitement as I began to rub my hands all over myself.

He leaned in for a kiss, which I provided eagerly, before letting his tongue wander over my body. 

He kissed down my neck, and I could feel my chest becoming flush as my nipples perked up.  He lingered his tongue on my nipple for a while.  Flicking and sucking, and it tickled me in all the right places. 

His hands caressed my curves, up and down my hips.  He continued with his tongue, moving to my other breast. 

I reached one arm around to hold onto his back, and with my other
hand,
I brushed along his
strong
chest.  Working my way down slowly, until I met his throbbing member.  I began to stroke up and down his shaft, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would
feel like
.

He reached his hand down to my clit and began to massage it in a
circle
.  Every little sensation shot feelings of ecstasy to my head.  I arched my back when he would find just the right place to touch.

My moans were becoming
louder,
and I could feel myself dripping with desire.  He must have noticed because he brought his mouth back to my own and brought me in for another kiss.

I could feel the tip of his manhood begging to enter, and I was not in a place where I could deny the pleasure.

He eased it
in,
at first, slowly inching its way deeper and deeper.  It felt almost too big to fit, and I let out a whine, but it didn’t stifle his advance.  It opened me more and more,
unceasing
until I had finally taken it all.

He breathed heavily in my ear, as I continued to moan with pleasure, enjoying every inch of him.  He didn’t move just
yet. Instead
he started kissing me all over again. 

BOOK: Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories)
4.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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