“Text me your address.”
Eleven
I rarely invited people into my space.
There was something especially solitudinous about it; a word I’d only learned so that I could properly describe the townhouse I’d purchased on my own two years ago when I moved back to Nashville after having a roommate during my time spent in Los Angeles.
Back then, living with someone made the most sense since, well, the city was expensive as hell on a rookie salary and having my own spot was wasteful as hell when I spent most of the year playing overseas anyway. But I missed all the perks that came with living alone and moving to the Green Hills area was a no-brainer since not only was it nice but the people tended to mind their own business.
It was also a great change of speed when compared to the East Nashville neighborhood I’d grown up in; the same neighborhood my father still lived in even after I’d offered to put him and his family in something nicer.
“You already paid it off, Selena. No reason for me to move just so these hippies can buy up the block,” was his reasoning and I respected it. But I also knew my new siblings would outgrow the space sooner than later, especially since his wife didn’t seem to be interested in slowing up on the babymaking any time soon.
Gross.
Doing my best to shake off those thoughts, I was grateful when the doorbell rang, serving as the perfect distraction that reminded me of my own… not babymaking. But it did make my pussy jump with anticipation, an unmovable grin on my lips as I pulled the door open and saw Dre’s eyebrows bunched in confusion.
Instead of greeting me properly, he asked, “Is Niko Verette your neighbor? Cause I could’ve sworn I just saw him pull up in a Tesla.”
“To which house?” I asked, watching as he pointed out the spot a few doors down with the Barbie pink Fiat sitting in the driveway. “Nah, that’s where my friend Jayde lives. Remember that EP I had you listen to on our flight to Connecticut?”
“The honky tonk bullshit?” he asked, sounding legitimately shocked when he followed, “She’s clockin’ dollars like that off those country covers?!”
With a laugh, I explained, “She’s a songwriter too, and plays instruments, and is just… hella talented overall.”
“I was about to say. Shit, in that case, I can croon about whiskey and bad breakups too,” he replied with a chuckle that had me shaking my head as I finally invited him in.
Again, because it was something I rarely did, I expected it to feel awkward and different. But it didn’t, seeming totally natural for Dre to drop his bag and shoes at the door as I thought out loud, “I wonder what Niko is doing over there, though.”
“Probably the same thing I’m about to do over here,” Dre answered with the sexiest grin, biting down into his bottom lip as he finally checked me out.
“Oh yeah? And what are you about to do over here?” I asked with a smirk, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms in a way that made my titties bunch in the camisole that was just barely holding them in anyway.
Dre seemed to appreciate it though, licking his lips as he pulled me off the wall into a hug and answered, “Make you pay for fuckin’ up my ankle.”
“It really still hurts?”
Somehow, I knew he was exaggerating when he nodded and whined, “Hell yeah. I mean, I’m walkin’. But it’s still a little swollen, and I can feel it ache with every step.”
“Old man shit,” I teased with a laugh, pulling away from him to head towards the kitchen so that I could offer, “You want some ice?”
“Nah. I want some ass,” he growled from behind me, catching up to my stride so that he could give my butt a hard smack that made me jump and giggle all at once.
“The way you talk behind closed doors is just… whew. I can’t explain it,” I sighed, directing him to take a seat at the kitchen island so that I could grab a bottled water from the fridge since his whole demeanor had me feeling especially parched.
I mean, he looked just as good as he did earlier; just as good as he always did. But now that he had me alone, his seductive swagger seemed even more activated, sending shivers down my spine when he flat out asked, “Makes your pussy wet?”
“So very wet,” I admitted, bending over to grab a water from the bottom shelf and maybe staying down there a second longer than necessary since I could feel Dre’s eyes on my ass.
When I turned around to slide a bottle his way out of courtesy, he didn’t bother pretending like he hadn’t been looking. In fact, he supplied evidence once he asked, “You put those little ass shorts on just for me?”
“The least I could do after crossin’ you up earlier. Consider it a sympathy gift,” I teased, taking a sip from my bottle as Dre abandoned his to round the corner and pull me into a loose hug.
With his hand just gently resting against my waist, he asked, “I’m never gonna hear the last of that, huh?”
“Not until I get my championship banner. And then you won’t be hearing the last of that,” I replied, speaking it into existence the same way I’d done earlier. And because Dre understood, he only nodded in support of my obsession, tightening his hold on me to address another part of my response.
“You sayin’ I’ll still be around to listen to you brag?”
Smirking, I quickly fired back, “Ask yourself that question, Jordan Leonard.”
“Jordan Leonard,” he repeated with a huff of a laugh. “That shit really makes you feel exclusive, huh?
“It absolutely does. Unless that’s the fun fact you tell all your women to make them feel like they really know you.”
Just the thought had me a little annoyed like I hadn’t brought it on myself. And instead of putting me totally at ease about the possibility of others, he only teased, “Damn. I see you’ve peeped my game early.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I replied with a giggle and a smack to his chest, pulling myself out of his hold so that I could cross the kitchen for no particular reason.
Or maybe there was a reason, Dre taking notice enough to follow me and ask, “Why you keep runnin’ away from me like you don’t know what you had me come over here for?”
“I’m not running away,” I defended, gnawing at my lip as I contemplated sharing the truth I’d been sitting on since that conversation with Ari.
I didn’t want Dre to think I was crazy attached, or that I was already trying to make too much out of whatever this was happening between us. But after catching the skeptical look on his face, I realized there was no better time than the present to just be honest, releasing a heavy sigh before I started, “I just… okay. This is gonna sound so corny, but I need to get it off my chest so here it goes.”
It took another deep breath for me to work up the courage to look him in the eyes when I confessed, “I like you, Dre. And being around you, it makes me feel giddy, and giggly, and I know I had you come over here to blow my back out which we’ll get to when I’m done running my mouth. But now that you’re here, I can’t let this moment pass without telling you that… I like you.”
At first he just stared at me, making me nervous until I saw his lips curl up into a grin as he pulled me closer to ask, “That was really hard for you to admit, huh?”
“Extremely,” I breathed, not feeling all that relieved about it when he pressed, “But you did it anyway. For me?”
“For you. Well, really for us, but…”
Cutting me off with a laugh, he tightened his hug and said, “I don’t know how the hell we got here since you used to hate my ass, but…”
This time, it was me cutting him off as I corrected, “I never hated you! I actually loved you long before I even knew you. And then I was disappointed, as a fan, when you fell off the map. And then I was mad cause, how dare your fine ass pop back up on the scene wanting to coach in our league. And then…”
“And then you got to know me and caught feelings,” he finished for me, his grin adorably wide when he concluded, “This shit is full circle as hell, Selena.”
“Not
quite full circle, but…”
“We’ll get there. Cause I like your competitive ass too.”
My cheeks grew warm at his profession, a smirk on my lips as I playfully asked, “Oh, you do, huh?”
“Yeah. I do,” he stated confidently, giving a little nod as if he was inviting me in for a kiss. And I was happy to give it, relishing in the feel of his lips against mine and his fingers pressed into my ass as he pulled away to whisper, “And now it’s time for me to blow your back out.”
“Oh my God, Dre,” I giggled, quickly getting lost in the kiss he followed up with once he slipped his tongue between my lips and backed me into the kitchen island for leverage. And instead of letting me stay there, he lifted me onto the counter so that we were almost eye-to-eye, my arms wrapped around his neck as he lodged himself between my thighs and nipped at my bottom lip before soothing it with a kiss.
“Where we takin’ this, lil’ baby?” he asked breathily, dragging his kisses from my lips down to my chin and then over to my neck which he knew would make me weak.
I was grateful that I was already sitting down, though I still held onto his shoulders to keep myself upright as I challenged, “Who said we have to take it anywhere?”
Chuckling right against my neck, his tone sounded especially sultry when he asked, “Oh, that’s what you on?”
“We have all night, and I can be as loud as I want? You’ll be lucky if we don’t cover every room in this bitch,” I joked, lowkey finding the challenge intriguing now that it was in my head. And that feeling only grew when Dre started tugging at my shorts, getting them down to my ankles for me to kick off before returning to stand between my thighs with a grin on his face as he stared me down like he was contemplating what he wanted to do first.
Between the weight of his dick now pressed against the seat of my panties and the cool counter under my ass cheeks, I felt sensitive all over. And Dre took full advantage of that, pressing lingering kisses against my collarbone then pushing one strap of my camisole from my shoulder for better access to the skin he seemed obsessed with considering the way his mouth refused to let up.
I loved it, though. Loved it so much that I removed the other strap so that he could get everything he was after, his hand resting gently against my throat as he gave equal attention to both sides of my body. And after doing the honors of ridding me of my tank completely, he carried that same balanced energy down to my breasts, instructing me to lay back so he could grab handfuls of each to taste and drive me insane all at once.
I mean, between the warmth of his mouth and the skill of his tongue taunting my nipples before satisfying their craving with a full suck, I felt like I was going to explode. But that seemed to be Dre’s goal as he gently urged me further onto the counter so that he could finally get rid of my panties and dive face-first into my pussy with no sort of warning.
Not that it would’ve mattered.
I was already high, already floating, already overflowing with arousal that it could’ve been his dick instead of his mouth and I would’ve accepted it all the same. But because it was his mouth, I found myself arching up against it, his arms wrapped tightly around my thighs to keep me where he wanted me as he licked, and slurped, and did the type of shit that made me want to make him a stay-at-home husband just so that he could be readily available to do this all the time.
It was… heavenly. And because it was heavenly, it only made sense for me to feel like I was rising towards the sky chest first before crashing down hard with an orgasm so intense I felt it everywhere.
My pussy, my toes, my ears, my scalp…
Every part of me felt affected as Dre stood upright with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he said, “One room down. Plenty more to go.”
Serving a smirk in response, I took a second to let my limbs regain their strength. Then I climbed down from the counter and pulled him towards the living room, Dre taking a quick detour to grab some protection from his bag by the door which was so very smart on his part since I was all over him once he made it back and would’ve, without question, ignored the “safety first” mantra in favor of getting him inside of me as quickly as possible.
Those seconds of wait time were well worth it though once I found myself in his lap, on his dick, my pussy already stretched to accommodate his size when he smacked my ass and urged me to take more. And because I was a glutton for this exact kind of punishment, I did just that, my head tossed back as Dre coached, “There you go, baby. Get that shit. It’s yours.”
“It’s yours,” played back in my head as I found my groove, using every bit of strength in my hips and thighs to let him know he’d made a wise decision coming here tonight. But from the look on his face, there was no doubt in his mind that not only had he made a wise decision but that there was also plenty more of where this came from, his hands at my waist like gentle guides when he groaned, “Fuck yeah.” And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he brought a hand to the small of my back and used the other to grab my titty, giving my nipple a hard suck that sent me spiraling as I rode him harder, and faster, and…
“Shit,” we hissed simultaneously, every nerve ending in my body pulsating as I continued to ride him through our shared climax. And by the time I was done, it felt like I’d truly ascended to the promise land, my chest pressed against his as I rested my forehead on his shoulder while he turned to kiss my temple and cheek before whispering into my ear, “Room two. Check.”
With a breathy giggle, I admitted, “I might’ve talked some shit that I can’t back up with that one.”
“That’s aight. Quality over quantity. And besides, if I fucked you in every room tonight, you’d undoubtedly end up on the injury report for next game,” he insisted, just the thought of getting sexed to the point of having to call out of work making me tremble as I sat up to respond.
“I… can’t even dispute that one.”
“Oh, I know,” he replied with an arrogant chuckle that I couldn’t even humble him about because, well, he’d earned the rights to that shit.
That wasn’t the only thing he’d earned the rights to, my arms wrapped around his neck when I asked, “Should we take this party upstairs? Like, to end it with sleep. Not more of this.”
Instead of answering right away, he leaned forward to take a nibble of my collarbone, causing me to involuntarily throb around his dick that was still erect inside of me as we shared a moan before he pointed out, “Your mouth is sayin’ one thing, but your pussy is sayin’ another. So what’s the truth, Ms. Samuels?”
The sexiness in his approach had me second-guessing my plans to call it a night just that easily. And after observing the way he scraped his bottom lip with his teeth like his mind was already made up, I decided I was done holding onto my last thread of control, gnawing into my own lip when I answered, “The truth is… I don’t know. But you should grab your bag and follow me upstairs so we can both find out.”
I woke up the next morning to kisses against my shoulder blade.
They were gentle, almost feather-like, but still enough to stir something deep in my belly as I slowly rolled over to see the source who somehow looked even better under the sunshine beaming through my window.
Honestly, if this was a decade ago, I would’ve assumed it was a dream waking up with Dre Leonard in my bed. But after a hard blink that flooded me with vivid memories of last night, I knew it was very real, my voice still groggy when I asked, “Is your fine evolving right before my eyes, or am I just seeing you through dick goggles now?”
Chuckling, he brushed my hair out of my face and replied, “Good morning to you too, lil’ baby. How’d you sleep?”
With a yawn I slightly stifled so that I wouldn’t blow dragon breath directly into his face, I answered, “I slept so good that I want more of it. Wake me back up in like, twenty minutes.” And I was already turning back over when I heard Dre laughing to himself, his weight making the mattress shift before we both settled in for what I expected
to be an extra snooze until I heard a video of a woman singing playing from his phone followed by him groaning, “Well damn.”
“What?” I asked, flipping right back over so that I could see what had him making so much noise.
Instead of giving an answer right away, he grinned down at me and teased, “I thought you said you wanted to sleep?”
“I did until you started playing that loud ass video and got me all intrigued,” I whined, already peeking at the screen to see what I could pull from it on my own as he gave an explanation.
“I was just checking out the latest entries of this #forthegram singing competition. Have you heard of it?”
“Of course I’ve heard of it. And I already have @Okin4thegram picked to win it all,” I told him confidently, recognizing whoever “Okin” was as the only true vocalist in the bunch even though he’d yet to unveil who he was.
Dre wasn’t as sure about my pick though, a skeptical look on his face when he countered, “I don’t know, Selena. I mean, @Okin4thegram is cold. But that Melina chick has been giving him a run for his money.” Then he turned the screen a little more my way to show me that’s what had had his attention from the beginning, a video of the girl singing “Yoga” by Janelle Monae while doing yoga poses with barely any clothes on.
As far as strategy went, I couldn’t knock her game. But because of what the contest was supposed to be about - vocals, not vagina prints - I rolled my eyes as I told him, “If Melina was smart, she’d drop out of the contest and make a premium Snapchat or an OnlyFans account. I’m sure she’d make a killing sharing the exact same shit she’s been posting for the competition.”
It wasn’t a joke, but Dre laughed anyway, scrolling to another entry by someone named John C. that we quickly found ourselves talking over.
“The most competitive person I’ve ever met is judging somebody for doing whatever it takes to win?”
One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2) Page 12
