Second Opinion (3 page)

CHAPTER 3

“Dude, that was a blatant false start. Those refs are fucking blind.”

Andrew was one of those guys I hated watching games with. He ran his damn mouth the entire time, almost to the point I stopped enjoying the game. He always claimed he should be a sports broadcaster, and more often than not, I wished he was at a game broadcasting instead of sitting next to me.

“Did you see that, Grant?” he asked me.

I rolled my eyes and grunted out some reply.

He had a killer entertainment system with an eighty-five inch projection television and surround sound. Watching football from the comfort of Andrew’s leather recliners with an ice cold beer in the cup holder was actually better than fighting the traffic to watch a game in person.

So I tuned him out and watched Arizona beat the hell out of Dallas unless he directly addressed me. I probably had about one beer left before I reached my safe driving limit, but fuck if I was going to stay with Andrew any longer than absolutely necessary.

The other good part of hanging out with Andrew was that hot girls always surrounded him. He had money and he was good looking, so apparently his personality didn’t matter.

I was pretty sure I’d be able to get Alyssa to go home with me. I’d been eying her periodically throughout the entire game, and every time I glanced in her direction, I caught her looking at me.

I had to do something to get Avery out of my mind. I figured Alyssa could be the solution.

I had a fairly good idea of what women wanted.

It wasn’t some magic formula like most men thought. They just wanted a little attention paid their way.

Some wanted the bad boy. Others wanted the nice guy.

I’d spent so much time playing the roles they wanted that I’d started to lose sight of who I actually was. I tended toward the cocky asshole more often than not, but one thing was clear: Women wanted me, and I did everything I could to make myself available to them.

I had only three requirements when it came to women.

First, they had to drink. (Drinking lowers inhibitions.) I never trusted people who didn’t drink.

Second, they had to be hot.

Finally, they had to be single.

I preferred blondes with long legs, but I was never one to limit myself to one type.

I’d met Alyssa once before, but she’d had a boyfriend. I was an asshole, but I wasn’t the guy who slept with someone who was in a relationship. It wasn’t my style.

Not after what happened with Rachelle.

Alyssa appeared to fit all of my requirements. I’d watched her throw back a few beers during the game. She had a tight body. She was tall, and she was wearing fuck me heels that made her even taller.

And Andrew told me she was single.

Looking at Alyssa didn’t really help me push out the woman who had been lingering on my mind, but maybe sex with her would help.

The game was over, so it was time to make my move. She was leaning over the counter, tapping away on her phone with her elbows resting on the counter in front of her. I gazed at her ass sticking out, thinking she was bent at the perfect angle for me to slide my cock right into her.

Instead of doing that, though, I leaned against the counter next to her.

She glanced over at me, her blue eyes widening as they landed on me. She looked like a little sex kitten standing the way she was, looking up at me.

And that told me she was not a sweet, innocent girl.

That told me she wanted the bad boy. The cocky asshole.

The “real” Grant.

“Let’s not play games, Alyssa. Come home with me.” Those were the first words I said to her the entire day, yet I knew I had a homerun.

“Only if you promise we’ll play games once we get there,” she said, a wicked little smile lighting up her face.

I grinned. She was hot, she’d been drinking, and she was single. We’d have a good time.

But that’s where it would end.

I doubted I’d go back for seconds with her. It just created too many expectations. I did everything I could to avoid creating hope in the women I brought home with me. I supposed somewhere deep down I knew my playing days wouldn’t last forever, but I was still young at only thirty-two. I had plenty of life ahead of me to live before it was time to really consider settling down.

Besides, I’d considered settling down once before, and it hadn’t worked out so well.

Alyssa followed me home. I focused on my rearview mirror at a stoplight, knowing she couldn’t tell where I was looking through my sunglasses. She was a gorgeous girl. She’d make some man very happy someday. But with the exception of that afternoon, it wouldn’t be me.

The light turned green, and I refocused my attention on the road in front of me.

Some song by Pink blared through my speakers, and I hit the power button to my radio. Better to sit in my car in silence than be reminded of Rachelle’s favorite singer.

I wasn’t sure why Rachelle had been on my mind so much over the past few days, but she had been. It had been four years since I’d last seen her, but the pain from our last encounter was as fresh as if it had happened moments earlier.

I pulled into my garage, and Alyssa pulled into my driveway behind me. I took a deep breath in my driver’s seat, and then Alyssa was standing next to my car in my garage, clutching her purse.

“Ready for this?” I asked, lowering my voice to a deep rumble as I clicked the button to lower my garage door before getting out of my car.

Her plump lips parted ever so slightly and her eyes widened. I saw the effect just my voice had on her, and I couldn’t wait to get inside her hot pussy any way I could. My fingers. My mouth. My dick. Whatever.

“I think the better question is whether
you
are ready for
this
,” she said, and she dropped her purse to the floor and charged me. She slammed my body against the side of my car, and I felt my breath push out of my body at her force. Damn.

A girl who liked to take control.

This was definitely going to be a fun afternoon.

I clutched her arms in my hands before slamming my mouth down to hers. A soft moan escaped her, granting me an entrance. My tongue slid against hers as my cock grew harder at the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers.

Her fingers threaded into my hair, and she tugged. Hard. It was my turn to take control, and before she knew what hit her, I had her body up against the hood of my Dodge Charger, her legs spread wide as I stood between them, her mouth still hot on mine.

I’d just gotten this car a few months earlier, but I found it was much better for my sex life than my old FJ Cruiser had been.

She was wearing jeans, and I backed away from her to unsnap the button and lower them down her legs, pulling her white lacy panties along with them. I slid both of my hands back up her legs slowly as she leaned back on my hood and panted with need.

I dragged my finger up her leg and swiped it through her pussy. She was hot, wet, and ready. Her hips jerked up toward me on a throaty moan, so I did it again.

“Oh fuck, Grant. Fuck yes.” She moaned my name over and over, wanting more as I took my sweet time with her. We had all afternoon, and I had never been selfish when it came to pleasing my women.

I was, however, going to tease the fuck out of her. I wanted to make her beg me to stick my cock in her.

I pushed one finger into her and held it there. Her fingers clenched my hair. If she kept doing that shit, I was going to end up with a goddamn bald spot.

“Give it to me, Grant,” she moaned, and I didn’t move my hand.

“Tell me what you want,” I demanded.

“I want you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“To fuck me.”

“I’m going to need you to be a little more descriptive,” I said, pulling my finger out before plunging it back in again.

“To fuck me on top of this car.”

I chuckled. “Oh, Alyssa. You said you wanted to play games. You made me promise we’d play games, actually,” I said, drawing my finger out slowly before ramming it back in. “So I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to finger me with two fingers.”

I pushed another finger in, and I was rewarded with another moan. I played the game as I stilled both fingers inside of her.

“Grant,” she said, her voice a plea.

“Yes, Alyssa?”

“Faster. Finger me faster.”

I followed her directions, and her moans got louder as she came closer and closer to climax.

The brief thought flashed through my mind that my neighbors could hear her, but I’d had louder girls in this very garage before.

Just as she started clenching around me, I withdrew both fingers from her body.

“Don’t fucking stop now,” she spat out at me.

“No?”

She sighed in frustration. “You’re kind of a douchebag.”

I shrugged and grinned. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Damn straight you’re not.”

“You’re a feisty one.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“So what do you want?”

“I already answered that question.”

“So all you want from me is two fingers?”

“No. I want you to fuck me.”

“How bad?”

“You bring me seconds away from an orgasm and stop? I’d say pretty bad.” She was panting, and it was hot.

Her fingers started trailing down her body so she could provide her own relief, but I grabbed her hands in mine and held them above her head. She groaned as I leaned forward and kissed her neck, dragging my tongue across her skin.

I felt her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to her. I pushed my hips toward her, my now very hard and still contained cock thrusting against her. More of those sexy little moans came from her as she arched up into me, trying to create some friction for her release. But I wasn’t about to let her come without being inside of her.

There was nothing in this world quite like being inside of a woman as her body clenched around me with a powerful orgasm.

I pulled my hips back and felt her trying to draw me back in toward her.

“Fuck me, Grant. Fuck me now.”

I pulled my lips back from her neck and gazed down at her.

“Please fuck me.”

And there it was. She wanted me, and that feeling of power, the fact that I held her pleasure, was what I craved most from women.

“Only because you asked me so nicely,” I whispered, and then I lowered my jeans, put on the condom I kept in my wallet, and rammed into her, holding still once I made my way in just like I had with my fingers.

“Move, Grant. Move fucking fast.”

Her wish was my command.

I pulled back and pushed forward, thrusting my hips toward her with power. She yelled out my name, encouraging me to pull back and push forward again.

I set a fast rhythm as I pounded into her. I enjoyed watching her face as I fucked her. She was a nice girl, and I had a brief moment of regret that nothing would go beyond this fun time on the hood of my car with her. But that’s just how it had to be.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she yelled.

I wanted to tell her I was trying to do exactly that, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment with a sarcastic comment.

Her body tightened quickly since I’d brought her so close to release with just my fingers. She yelled out, screaming my name as she came. I was getting close, and when a woman clenched around my dick like that, it always sent me over the edge. She came down from her orgasm and I pumped powerfully into her a few more times before I came. Hard.

She clutched me to her, and I found myself wishing we’d taken the time to remove her shirt and bra before our shenanigans. Nuzzling a breast after some good sex was always a favorite pastime of mine.

I sighed in contentment as I pulled out of her, and she groaned.

Now came the awkward part. Since I’d taken her back to my place, I was obligated to invite her in. But doing that also created those expectations I was trying to avoid. She seemed like the kind of girl who understood where I was coming from, but she was still a girl. From my experience, most of them wanted more than a quick bang on the hood of my car.

“Want to come in for a drink?” I asked, feeling pretty gentlemanly for offering but secretly hoping she’d decline.

“I’d love to.”

This was going to be a long afternoon.

I couldn’t help but blame Rachelle once again. Fucking Rachelle did this to me.

And by “this,” I meant that she was the one who made me the impatient bastard I was being with Alyssa.

I really hadn’t wanted to invite her in because I had already gotten what I wanted out of her. Before Rachelle, I wasn’t the guy who treated women like that. I wanted the same things everyone wants—a relationship with one person who I could love for the rest of my life. Someone to come home to. Someone to walk the dog with. Someone to argue with and make up with.