Top Notch (Man on Top Book 1)

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Top Notch (Man on Top Book 1) Page 11

by Nicole Richard


  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Believe it. I was that awkward looking kid until the summer before my freshman year of high school.” He offered me the last bite and when I shook my head, he pointed his empty spoon at me, a glint in his eyes and a mischievous smile on his perfect lips. “But you know you just jinxed it, right?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I guarantee you some kid will probably notice and want an autograph now.” He chuckled, not the least bit concerned. “Wanna make a friendly wager?” He wiggled his eyebrows and I about died laughing.

  “Depends.”

  “On?” He licked his lips and met my gaze head-on.

  “What’s at stake?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Levi

  “What’s at stake?”

  Little did she know, she was what was at stake.

  Our conversation was all over the place tonight. From simple and easy to the heavy topic of Greg. I still didn’t have the entire picture, but at the moment, that was the least of my concerns.

  What mattered most was not so much her saying it, but the gleam in her diamond-blue eyes and strong posture confirming she was eager, or at least willing to play dirty.

  “I have an idea,” I replied nonchalantly.

  “Should I be worried?”

  I shrugged. Yes. Actually, you should.

  I pressed my hand on the small of her back, patiently waiting until we were away from any prying ears before giving her full disclosure. We made it to the front and just as we were about to exit the restaurant, the sound of a woman calling my name had me smiling, a victory chant going off in my head, drafting ways for her to fork over payment.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Montgomery?”

  “Levi, please,” I answered charmingly as I faced the middle-aged woman and who I assumed was her husband, offering the couple my game-winning smile. “What can I do for you this evening?”

  “Would it be too much trouble to get an autograph?”

  “No trouble at all, ma’am.”

  “Gerald, give the young man your cap,” she quickly ordered her husband. He removed the Bucks cap from the top of his head and handed it to me. I waited to see if the woman would give me a pen, when surprisingly Rowan extended a red Sharpie out to me, her gesture garnering a questioning look.

  “What?” She shrugged unapologetically. “I have an issue with stealing pens, and I use it for markups.” Her response left me chuckling. Damn, she was cute, adorable in a sexy kind of way, but a Sharpie? I wonder what else she kept hidden in that bag of hers. Condoms, perhaps? A man could only hope.

  “Thank you so much. Our son will be over the moon when we tell him we ran into you tonight.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Who should I make it out to?”

  “Shawn, please. S-H-A-W-N.” She carefully spelled her son’s name and I was glad, saving me the embarrassment of misspelling it and possibly ruining her husband’s cap. “He holds you in such high regard. Dreams of playing in the majors just like you.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Comments like hers always humbled me. Made me appreciate my talent and the life I was able to live because of it.

  On the inside of the cap’s bill, I wrote: Shawn. Chin up. Eyes on the game and signed my full name with the number sixteen underneath. As I proceeded to hand the cap back to her husband, the woman’s smile was so bright she could have provided light for the entire room.

  “Thank you. You have no idea how much we appreciate this. How much Shawn will appreciate this.” He passed the cap to his wife for safekeeping and then leaned in next to my shoulder. “Saw what you did to that jerk yesterday. If that was my girl, I’d have done the same thing—maybe worse.”

  “They aired that?” I pried, slightly dumbfounded.

  “Nah. We were a few rows up. Saw everything.”

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  “Don’t be.” He clapped my shoulder twice and without another word, walked his wife out.

  Mentally replaying him referring to Rowan as my girl gave me pause. We were just two people out, enjoying a “thank you” dinner. But giving it some added thought, there was something about Rowan that had me tossing caution to the wind and saying “fuck it.” I would deal with the repercussions later. Greg couldn’t be serious, could he? If he found out, he may not like the idea, but he wouldn’t go the extreme of trading me. Right?

  After Madison and how things turned out, I thought I’d never consider starting something with another woman, but now, seeing Rowan, spending time with her without being compromised, she’s definitely the kind of woman I wouldn’t hesitate to bring home to meet my family. And that was saying something.

  Rather than dwelling on his words, I returned my hand to the small of her back. We walked out of the restaurant and straight to my Rover. I opened the passenger side door and waited for her to get comfortable. With both my arms resting on the roof, I leaned in to where she sat and whispered, “I think you lost a bet, Miss Landry. It’s time you pay up.”

  Standing there, crowding her space, my body was on full alert. The sweet perfume she wore had a clean and feminine scent and coupled with her body heat radiating between us, a firestorm went off inside my head, quickly making its way south.

  She shifted in her seat and shook her head ever so slowly. The bold look in her dazzling blue eyes told me I had it all wrong. That there was no way she had lost. She never lost. “Actually, Mr. Montgomery”—she clucked her tongue and licked her lips painstakingly slow—“I won the bet.”

  I leaned in a little more. “You did, did you? And how do you figure that?”

  “On a technicality.”

  “What?” I barked out a laugh.

  “You bet a kid would come up to you and ask for an autograph. That”—she held her finger out toward the restaurant’s entrance—“was a grown man and woman. So it’s fair to say you lose.” She stuck her tongue out at me. I should have known I’d end up playing hardball with a woman as smart as she was.

  “Stick that tongue out at me one more time, gorgeous, and see what happens.” My voice was predatory as was my posture and I leaned in another inch, sending a silent warning.

  She did it again. But this time her eyes challenged me.

  What she hadn’t expected was for me to make good on my “idle” threat by taking one hand off the rooftop and grabbing the top of her thigh. I bowed my head, my lips capturing hers, and sucked on her sweet tasting tongue. First she whimpered softly, an even softer moan following. She reached between us and fisted my shirt, pulling me closer, deeper into her realm.

  My hand slipped from the roof, reaching in and stabilizing myself with the center console before completely falling. My self-control melted with the heat of the summer night’s air and the hot woman pinned between me and the leather seat, the hand I had on her thigh squeezing, roaming higher.

  My transgressions were usually kept behind closed doors or at the very least semi-private, but with Rowan, it seemed like I forgot my damn mind; the wrong head always taking the lead, making the decisions—calling the shots. Her beauty and brains did quite the number on my own common sense, and rather than peeling her clothes off and taking her right there on the front seat, I hesitated and pulled back.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers, peppering her swollen lips with soft kisses, my cock hard and ready. If I asked her to come home with me, would she think it was too soon? It had been weeks since I last touched a woman—since I touched her. That was saying a lot. “So what do I owe you for losing the bet?” My voice was hoarse as I forced the words out, needing a change of subject for the time being.

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Well, don’t think too long. Rule number two: Bets have a seven-day collection period.”

  She laid both palms flat against my chest and softly nudged me back. When our eyes met, her chest rumbled daintily with laughter.

  “You are too much.”

&nb
sp; Outside of earlier today and then tonight, things between us had been strained. However, after agreeing to let all of that stay in the past where it belonged, the outlook for us, whatever it may be, was looking better.

  “You and your rules.” She sighed happily and rested back into the seat, looking up at me. “What’s the punishment for breaking these rules?”

  “Break one and find out.”

  “I just might.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rowan

  As soon as we pulled out of the parking lot, Levi’s hand was on my thigh again, and I had no shame in admitting how much I liked it. How good it felt to have him touch me. Then he asked if I wanted to come over for a drink, which I should have declined. Leave things on a good note.

  By the time I got out of my own head and stopped thinking about that kiss, about the heat burning through my body, we were rolling past the wrought-iron fence and pulling into his driveway, the Rover idling while he waited for the garage door to rise. Tingles crept from the tips of my fingers down to my toes, making my skin buzz, anticipating what the rest of the night had in store for us.

  He drove the car into its designated space next to the behemoth that was his truck. He got out and rounded the back, opened my door, and offered his hand.

  The second I laid my hand in his, the buzzing sensation sparked into a full-fledged flame, provoking heat low in my belly, sending a warning to the butterflies that they better get the hell out of there before they were charred to a crisp.

  “Relax,” he whispered close to my ear. Somehow he thought I needed reminding. Maybe I did, and if he continued being like that, I definitely would need to be reminded. “Come on.” He locked our hands together and guided me through the enormous space that led to a long rectangular mudroom/laundry room.

  I slipped out of my sandals and he removed his shoes. Levi flipped on a switch, the recessed lights casting a soft glow showcasing a luxurious kitchen. The walls were white stone, the cabinets and island white antique wood with granite countertops and the appliances were all high-end and stainless steel. I didn’t get a good look the last time I was here.

  He tossed his keys on the counter and let go of my hand, heading for the enormous refrigerator with the built-in wine cooler next to it. I twirled in a slow moving circle, admiring the elegant and beautiful room when he pulled the double-doors open, looked over his shoulder, and gave me a choice of either, “Beer or wine?”

  “What are you having?” I asked, leaning against the island, taking in all of him. Something I didn’t get to do earlier since we were in public and my mind was too preoccupied. But in the confines of his private space, a space I felt comfortable in, my thighs clenched and my eyes did a full perusal. They traveled from bottom to top, at various speeds with a few stops between. Appreciating how effortlessly handsome he looked.

  “What if I said you?” he baited in that husky rasp of his, making my insides squirm and my panties wet.

  “Beer’s good.” I swallowed hard and turned to look the other way. It was okay if I was doing the perusing, but when his eyes bore into mine, his words sending a message straight to my core, it became too much for me to handle.

  Needing a distraction, I shoved off the granite and stood in front of the French doors that led outside. I got a good look at the tranquil landscape that made up a good portion of his backyard. An infinity pool was set in the middle a little ways back, the lights beneath the water making a romantic backdrop. To the left was a warm and inviting covered veranda with matching lounge furniture, and a barbecue area was on the right. What I could make out was a green oasis of privacy.

  Levi came to stand beside me. When he held the bottle out, he offered, “We could go for a swim.”

  “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “Rule number three: Clothes are optional.” His voice was sharp and cunning, sending waves of pleasure rippling through me.

  “You and your rules.” I brushed him off.

  “Every game has its rules, angel. Keeps things fair and on an even playing field.”

  Is that what this is, a game? Am I just a game to him? But he called me angel.

  If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t give him a solid reason to think otherwise. I was just another one-night stand after all—who was back for more.

  I let the angel pet name slide and then an idea came to me. “I noticed a different kind of pool the last time I was here,” I countered, referring to the pool table he had in one of the other rooms. I had passed it on my way back from the restroom that night.

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  “Want to play a friendly game of pool?” I faced him and popped my hip against the sink.

  “You sure about that?” he warned and upped the ante, “Double or nothing?”

  “I’m down, but wagers need to be decided prior to.”

  “I agree.”

  I laughed softly as he led me from one room to the next; little did he know I knew my way around a pool table. Of course credit went to Spencer for teaching me the game after too many late nights studying and needing an outlet—something to keep us sane—that need was surmounted with booze and pool. Billiards was soothing to a young analytical engineer’s mind.

  “So, what did you have in mind?”

  I took in my surroundings. The lighting was two notches above dim. A built-in gas fireplace centered one wall with a bar tucked in the corner across from it. Levi set our beer bottles on the bar top, moved behind the bar, flipped a switch, and shortly after music played through hidden speakers.

  After a few bars, one of my brows rose.

  “Presumptuous, aren’t you?” I questioned his song choice. Words about being turned on and she hits right where she aims resonating in my ears and my body.

  “Confident. But, it’s more for the noise,” he answered nonchalantly. “Never been a fan of quiet.”

  That made sense. On our first night, he had music playing in the background, and the day I came to call a truce, he had the television on, which wasn’t odd, except for the high volume.

  “So what do you propose we bet on?” Levi stood relaxed, leaning against the side rail, one foot crossed over the other, the main attraction dead set in the middle.

  I took a step in his direction and answered, “Simple. I win—”

  He cut me off. “That won’t be happening.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I quipped and he uncrossed his foot, inviting me to stand between his open legs. I pressed my palms to his chest, my head falling back, gazing into his deep chocolate eyes and continued, “Again. If I win, you—”

  “You won’t.” He cut me off once more and snaked his arms around my waist, bringing me flush up against his chest. Then he kissed my jaw and gently inched his lips close to my ear, suddenly making me hyper aware of my racing heartbeat. “When I win . . . I get to fuck you right here on this pool table.”

  The conviction in the tone of his words instantly drenched my panties, and I gripped the front of his shirt, balancing my body.

  “You are so fucking wet right now, aren’t you?” I tried to nod and he lowered his voice, “But please, don’t tone down your game or go easy on me because you want to be thoroughly fucked. I do love a challenge.”

  My eyes fluttered shut and I had to put in added effort to take a few deep breaths. How could such dirty words sound so damn sexy?

  “One more thing.” My lids popped open, wondering what more he could want. “For each ball we pocket, the other person removes an article of clothing. You think you can handle it, angel?”

  There he went calling me angel again.

  I gulped and nodded. “Umm hmm.”

  “Good.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck, the butterflies fluttering at insane speeds. “Before things get a little crazy, I want to thank you for tonight.”

  “You’re welcome. But when I win . . . I get a scalp and foot massage and no funny business.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 
Levi

  “Corner pocket,” I called, pointing at the far left before pocketing my fifth ball.

  “Nice shot.”

  After racking the balls, I let Rowan break. She sent both a solid and stripe into the middle right pocket and I let her decide if we should both remove a piece of clothing or count that as a wash.

  She chose to keep our clothes on.

  That was the one and only time I went easy on her.

  Having already removed her belt, jeans, and see-through top in that particular order, she was debating what piece of clothing to remove next while my dick throbbed. Her acting coy was cute, but I knew it was all part of her failing strategy. She wanted me to fuck her just as bad as I wanted to be balls deep inside her. The heat in her blue eyes and her scent gave it all away.

  I gripped the shaft and butt of my stick, my hands itching to spank her small plump ass, taunting me in her sexy black cheeky panties. She did that shit on purpose—flaunting around the pool table. It was as if I could smell her arousal as I watched her hold that damn stick; my dick jerked in my jeans, wishing she was holding and stroking me instead.

  “Rowan. No stalling, baby.”

  “Hmm,” she teased, delaying her next move.

  “I could choose for you,” I warned.

  “I got it, thanks.” She set her stick carefully against the rail and reached behind her, seconds later pulling her black bra out from under her tank top. Her nipples puckered against the thin white fabric and I grunted. This was playing dirty and when I won, she was going to get fucked—and hard.

  Rowan picked her stick back up and my feet moved closer to her. She stood there concentrating, the wheels turning in that smart mind of hers, and after what felt like forever, she lifted one ass cheek onto the side rail. One leg remained on the floor and her thighs parted as she made herself comfortable. Evidence of her arousal was visible on the gusset of her panties.

  “Rowan,” I grunted, my patience wearing thin. I reached for the zipper of my jeans, ready to end this game prematurely. All I had to do was slide the metal down, tug her panties to the side, and in seconds I would be buried deep.

 

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