The entire ride, we just stand there, the sexual tension between us so thick you could cut it with a knife. But neither of us says a thing. Finally, the doors open and we step out. “This is me,” I say, not giving away what room I’m in, out of habit.
“Goodnight, Layla.”
I purse my lips and tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “Goodnight, Gabe.”
I watch as he walks back to the elevator. And the entire way, all I can think about is how much I wanted to kiss him. But it didn’t happen, so I focus on the positive—I got to spend some time with an amazingly normal, yet hot as sin, age-appropriate man.
As soon as the door snicks shut, I have to lean back against it and take a steadying breath. I just met the Gabe Goldwyn and he's even better in person. The entire time I was chatting with him, the wetter I became. The man exudes masculine energy and my body picked up on it immediately. Getting myself under control, I take myself to bed.
“Oh, just like that,” I moan, my clit throbbing as my pleasure pours out of me, soaking my panties. I’m so wet, I’m drenched. The pressure on my clit and the ache in my pussy is becoming unbearable. Needing relief, I push my fingers into my sopping wet pussy, my fingers working their way in and out. “Gabe,” I breathe, “don’t stop.” Using my other hand, I rub my swollen clit, bringing myself closer to the edge. Mimicking what Gabe’s nimble fingers would do to me, I soon climax.
“Fuck,” I whimper as I wake up, my fingers and inner thighs sticky. Sighing, I get out of bed and wash up, a bit sad that Gabe didn’t make a move. While I appreciate him being a gentleman, I wish I’d had the real thing tonight: his large hands all over me and sizable dick driving me wild. I’m sure a man like him knows how to pleasure a woman. All done, I head back to bed, a satisfied smile on my face. Gabe Goldwyn will be in my spank bank for the foreseeable future.
Gabe
As soon as I’m back in my hotel room, I have to unbutton my pants. My dick is so hard I could pound nails. Watching her backside sway as she walked has me all worked up. I try to focus on the unsexiest things imaginable, but it’s no use. All I can picture are Layla’s lush curves, tight ass, and ripe tits. I try to tamp down my desire, but all it does is make my balls ache with the need to come. I take a few deep breaths. In. Out. In, out. My raging hard-on doesn’t get the memo. Giving in, I pull out my dick and give it a few strokes. Fuck, this feels good. Pushing down my boxers, I sit down on the bed and remove my shirt. Stroking my dick, I imagine it’s Layla’s soft hands on me. “Mmm, Layla,” I mutter, my eyes closed.
Picking up the pace, I stimulate the head, and all too soon I erupt, shooting cum all over the place. “Fuuuck,” I groan from the pleasure of it, my dick spasming. Laying back, I gulp air into my lungs, my body feeling sated and relaxed. Once I catch my breath, I crack my eyes open and snort at the mess I made of myself. Cum is literally dripping through my fingers, sprayed all over my abs, and hell, I got cum on my left pec. Holy shit!
“Time to clean up,” I mutter to myself. I just came like a teenager. All because of one woman.
CHAPTER 4
GABE
Last night was therapeutic and I’m in a chipper mood… all because of one woman. I crave that deep kind of connection that I got from Layla last night. I haven’t had that since my divorce. And I want more of it. But I also want her. I know she felt the same way as I did, because from what I can tell from her body language, we hit it off. But neither of us made a move. Now I wish I had.
I know the way that sounds. It wasn’t just about how I got my rocks off afterwards. It’s not I haven’t been propositioned since my divorce; I have. But a quick fuck is not what I’m about. I genuinely enjoyed connecting with her and the conversation we had. But I also want to explore what’s between us on another level. We’d be good together, I think, if we just had the chance. It’s a shame that I may never see her again. There’s not much I wouldn’t give for another night with her.
Boarding the charter bus, I can’t keep the smile from my face. And the players notice.
“Hey, Coach! What has you smiling like that? I bet it’s a woman. It’s a woman isn’t it?” Tony, the first baseman, booms.
Fucking, Tony. Always giving me a hard time. He’s the team jokester. I just shake my head and walk to my seat. But wouldn’t you know, I’ve barely sat down before Javy pipes up.
“Hey, Coach! You get some last night? That woman you were with at the bar was fiiiine! Is that why you didn’t play poker last night?” he teases.
Okay, that’s enough. Standing, I paste a mean scowl on my face. The players know I mean business when I have this look. “Javy!” I yell, like a drill sergeant. “Sit the fuck down and shut your mouth!”
His smirk drops from his face almost immediately. “Sorry, Coach,” he says, his shoulders sagging a little bit as he walks past me and takes his seat. The boy needs to grow up. He’s made it to the big leagues; he needs to act like it. That includes not gossiping like a teenager about someone’s personal life. Especially mine. Sitting back down, I pull out my tablet and headphones. I might as well take care of a few things on the way to the park.
Layla
Fresh off a satisfying evening with superb company and an amazing orgasm, I greet my morning with the tenacity of a shark. Today’s the day I close this deal and sell off another one of my start-ups.
I began and sold my first start-up while I was still in school, unlike most college students who were too busy partying and hooking up. All they focused on was their future, not the present. But not me. I knew what I wanted and went after it. And today, it shows. I’m a multi-millionaire. But I’m not satisfied yet. I’m going to ride the train of success until I can’t ride it anymore. It’ll be years until that happens. Which works, as I can sell-off my remaining businesses and slow down, if I choose to. Or, I can continue to beat the competition and make bank. A pep in my step, I take the elevator to the lobby and head outside to my ride waiting for me. My serious face takes over as I prepare to slay in the boardroom. By the end of the day, this deal will be nothing but a passing thought in the rearview mirror.
That evening, my driver takes me back to the hotel. The entire way, I can’t keep the satisfied little smirk off my face. I officially closed another deal and it feels so good! Not that I ever had any doubt. People beg to buy my start-ups. And, if I think they’re ready to be sold, I sell them. To the right people, of course. I don’t just sell off my business-babies to just anyone. They need to be smart, savvy, and ready to take the reins, ready to continue their success. And the group that just paid me millions? They’re the right kind of people. There’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll do my business-baby proud. And that, in turn, makes me deliriously happy. In fact, I’m so happy that I can’t hide the smile from my face.
Today was a damn good day. Walking into the lobby, I watch as people walk around, some entering and some exiting. I glance fervently at the bar, a glimmer of hope inside that I’ll see a certain tall, tatted, man who just so happens to be baseball’s sexiest manager. And to my surprise, who do I see? None other than Gabe Goldwyn. The man who’s invaded my thoughts since we shared a drink at that particular hotel bar last night.
I could use a drink to celebrate. Why not share it with Gabe? Changing course from the elevator to the bar, I make a beeline towards Gabe’s back. He hasn’t seen me yet. Tossing my hair over my shoulder and strutting my stuff, I walk to Gabe, slipping into the seat next to his.
“Is this seat taken?” I ask unabashedly.
His head turns, his eyes meeting mine.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he replies, a smile on his handsome face. “Join me?”
