She was a walking contradiction. Dark hair, dark eyes… dark thoughts? To see her on all fours in a pile of colorful lingerie… My cock couldn’t help but respond.
She’d been affected too. I could almost hear her heart pounding when I whispered in her ear. I’d wanted to inch even closer and taste her. She’d smelled clean, fresh… inviting.
I rubbed my hand across my face to erase the incident.
Was I bothered because of the girl herself, or because she’d turned me down? Not many women said no to me. I had to think long and hard to remember the last time I’d struck out.
At first, I thought I knew her from somewhere, but that wasn’t it.
I’d have remembered. I scratched the side of my neck.
Long unruly chestnut curls tumbling around her face had framed her almost doll like features. She’d tried hiding those thick lashed, sage brown eyes with the long chestnut curls falling in her face. And those plump cherry lips… My dick twitched. I sure as hell hadn’t minded when she crashed those curves up against me. I’d steadied her longer than necessary, enjoying the unforeseen pleasure.
After experiencing the softness of that sweet rack, I wasn’t fooled by her heavy sweater and loose cargo pants.
Took me less than fifteen seconds to know I wanted her.
And fuck if I didn’t usually get what I wanted.
The top of her head had barely reached my chin. She’d been bristling, full of energy, until she met my gaze.
She’d been into me.
Maybe she had just needed to get back to work.
I threw my keys on the granite countertop and clicked the remote, piping some classic jazz through the entire apartment.
Not my type anyway, I reminded myself. From her shy laugh to the fact that she actually worked screamed nice girl. I didn’t date nice girls. If my sexual exploits could even be considered dating.
No, my type fell more along the lines of team groupie. Women who knew the score and wouldn’t expect more than a night… possibly two.
I rubbed my shoulder and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge when my phone blared out the chorus from Thirty seconds to Mars, Walk on Water.
I swiped the button to answer. “Hey.”
It was Cannon, my teammate and the bastard whose ass I’d kicked in Golf that afternoon. He was also partly responsible for getting me to come back and play in Colorado again.
Of which everybody said was a dumb ass move.
Playing for the Colorado Rangers as a hitter was golden– but as a pitcher? My agent nearly keeled over.
“Your stats are never gonna be any better than average… if that.” He’d been less than enthusiastic, despite the hefty contract. I shoved the memory aside to hear what Cannon wanted.
“We lifting tomorrow?” We were still in off season but that didn’t mean we could slack off.
I roughed a hand through my hair. “I’ve got that thing tonight…”
Cannon guffawed. “Dudes for Dogs? Or what’s it called? Men for Mutts? You’re gonna pimp yourself out to some rich ass bitch? Man, I’m glad I didn’t draw the short straw on that one.”
Colorado Canine Advocates was a great organization. And I Loved dogs. Always had. The other part of all this made my skin crawl though…
“I’m not sure how late it’s gonna go. But yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow. I need to run at five and then I’ll meet you at the facility after.” The one thing I excelled at was honing myself physically. I may suck at everything else, but I could control what I did with my body. And control it I did.
Except for when my cock took over.
“Sure you’ll be able to get away from the cougars?”
“Screw you man.”
