But sex with Boone? God damn, it’s always the quiet ones.
All of that repressed sexuality and quiet demeanor … he lets it all go when he’s about to connect us in the back seat of his car.
“You just couldn’t leave it alone, Annabelle. And now, I have to know. You let another man have you first, but I promise, you’ll remember what’s about to happen here every single time you touch yourself. Every single time another man touches you. You’ll want me. This. I’ll be the one in your head and on your skin every time you think about fucking.”
Boone is hovering over me, his words rolling off his tongue like orgasm-loaded dynamite. I’m panting, writhing as I lie beneath him in the back seat of his SUV. We’re bent at difficult angles, my dress pushed up and his jeans and boxers around his ankles. It’s an inferno in here, and the air is stilted and steamy.
But all I can think about is him. How much I want him, how I’ve waited so long for this moment. I’m finally having sex with Boone Graham.
I know though, as he rolls on a condom, that I can’t let him have the last word. I have to also protect myself from the emotions in this. I won’t fall, I can’t. This is it. We’re going to have this night, and that will be it. It has to be.
“Just get on with it then. Show me this magic dick of yours that you won’t shut the fuck up about,” I taunt him, having to be the brat he accuses me of being.
Boone’s caramel eyes flash in the light of the dashboard, and I brace myself as he starts to enter me.
So deliciously full.
The thought absorbs into my brain as Boone lets out a long, slow sigh, his chin dropping to his chest as we both watch him disappear inside of me in the dark light of the car.
At the same time that he is completely sheathed in me, our eyes flicker up to gaze at one another. How long have we both waited for this? Why does it feel like the world is ruled by madness and hedonism?
Boone begins to move, and I have to raise one hand above my head to keep him from knocking my skull through the car door. Not that I’d care much in this moment, what he’s doing to me feels too damn good.
My other hand fists in his shirt, grasping him, trying to hold him close. Trying to remember every minute detail of this tiny moment of love, the only one we’ll ever get. If this is the only capacity in which I’ll experience Boone wanting me, just one last time, I’ll take it even if it breaks me.
He stares at me, eyes stormy and greedy, taking more and more from me as we moan and grunt. Is he thinking the same thing?
Too quickly, I’m falling over the edge, my body going from a tightly pulled knot to a million pieces as Boone skillfully manipulates my orgasm on and on and on until I feel like I can’t breathe.
On the tail end of my climax, I feel his muscles bristle one at a time. Tensing and then going lax, and he bends down.
“I always knew it would be like this.” His whisper curls into my ear as he comes, those eyes pinned to mine.
It’s the most raw, masculine thing I’ve ever had the honor of watching. Seeing the expression on Boone’s face as he comes apart is something I will never scrub from my memory. It’s the image I’ll think about after this when I’m lying in bed alone.
I stare up at the ceiling of his car, the alcohol and orgasm seeping out of my limbs, as Boone pants lightly in my ear. The weight of him is delicious, it’s welcoming, and I realize it’s been a long time since I’ve felt comfortable in another person’s arms.
But just as I’m about to wrap my hands around the back of his neck, to silently nuzzle into him for just a little longer, he moves off of me. He sits up, disposes of the condom into a tissue he grabs out of the front seat, zips his jeans back up, and opens the car door.
I guess that’s the end of it, then.
My knees are shaking as I follow him out, and there is a pit in my stomach that has waves of nausea dancing up and down my spine. I lie to myself, pretend it’s the aftereffects of the alcohol, when really I know that it’s anxiety about what happens next.
There is a second of awkwardness, with neither of us looking at each other or saying anything.
“Good night.” Boone’s voice caresses my skin, and I have to bite back a sigh remembering what we just did.
Was he going to leave me here in this dark parking lot, alone?
No, Boone wasn’t that guy. He’d driven me home from the ballpark even though that had been awkward as hell. But right now, he’s not offering to drive me home.
My brain is fuzzy from sex, so it takes a moment to click. He’s not going to offer. He wants me to walk back to the front of the club, so he can rest assure he didn’t leave me here in this parking lot. But … he’s not going to make sure I get home.
Crashing against my ribcage and subsequently breaking, my heart sinks as if it were a drowning thing falling leagues into the sea. What the hell was I doing? Somewhere between telling myself this would be the only time and the moment Boone whispered in my ear, a spark of hope had lit me up. I’d thought this was him forgiving me.
But he’d only been answering a question that he’d long waited for an answer to. And now that he had it, he was done with me.
I turn, understanding my marching orders, and try not to let a single tear fall by way of freezing my heart once more.
It didn’t work.
Seventeen
Boone
Campus is bustling at noon on a Wednesday as I come out of my Standardized Tests and Teaching Outside the Box course.
March has arrived and so has spring in Texas. Which is pretty much like summer anywhere else, but people from here think they need a sweater when temps reach a brisk seventy-four.
I don’t mind the weather change. It means baseball season is coming. We’re about to have our first spring training game, and I am more than ready to get out on the field and show this team what I can do. Hopefully, I can graduate, earn my stripes and then hopefully be promoted to the big time.
My phone begins to buzz in my pocket, and I pick it up as I head for the science and engineering building where my next class is. I may be getting a teaching degree specified in history, but they still make you take all of the subjects. Science included. Which I’m shit at.
“Hey, Mama.” I pick up, smiling.
Mom has always been my biggest supporter. Even when Dad was functioning and sober and working, she’d still been the one who was always at my games. The one who talked about the big dream, who never once tinged it with doubt by suggesting that only one in however many amateur athletes actually made it to the pros.
“Buddy, how is everything? I miss you.” She sounds tired.
She was always tired these days. I try not to ball my fist at my side in anger about Dad and resolve myself to think about the money I’d be giving her any day now.
“Everything is good. Studying, sleeping and training, you know the drill.” I don’t like to worry her.
The clang of pots could be heard in the background. “And how is the team? Do you like the coaches? Same caliber equipment as North Carolina?”
Mom is a baseball mama through and through. Had invested every bit of herself into the sport since the day I started playing.
“Even better than Carolina, Mama. The team is good, it’s a faster pace, challenging, but in a good way. I’m excited for you to come down for a game once the season starts. I miss you, too.”
“I’ll see if I can take a day or two off. You know I’m so proud of you, I can’t wait to watch you be a star on that field. Well, you’ve always been a star.”
I sigh. “Mom, once I negotiate my contract in the next couple of weeks, you can quit working three jobs. Not that you should have to anyway.”
She makes a pshh sound. “You know I don’t care about that money. That’s your money.”
I put an end to her polite dismissal of the money immediately. “Mama, I’m not taking no for an answer. You deserve this money, you’ve put just as much sweat and tears into this as I have. And I don’t want to see you working thi
s hard. He should be working, he should get his lazy ass up off that couch!”
My blood is simmering, threatening to boil over.
“Oh, buddy, don’t talk like that. You’re dad has had a hard time—”
And now I’m flaming mad. “Mom, stop doing that!” I don’t want to yell at her, but I’d had enough of this. “He’s the man of the family. And I’m not saying that women can’t be the breadwinners, but he’s not even helping contribute. He’s a lazy, drunk piece of shit.”
“Boone Martin Graham, I didn’t raise you to curse, and I did not raise you to talk about your father that way.” Her voice is harsh.
I sigh. “Sorry, ma’am.”
She clears her throat and brushes over the topic like she didn’t just snap at me. “All right, buddy, you keep working hard, and let me know your schedule when we get closer to April. I love you so much.”
“Love you, too, Mama.” We hang up and I stare at my phone for a second.
The hate for my father, for our position in the world, for everything that has worked against me up until this point … it all bubbles up in my veins. That hate keeps me hungry, pushes me forward.
The phone call is exhausting, so it takes me a minute to register the scene in front of me as I come to stand at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance of the science building.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
“Are you hurt?”
People crowd around someone lying on the stairs, and I hear tiny gasps of pain from the person lying in the middle of the circle.
As bodies move and shuffle, I see a familiar face, tight and pinched in agony, lying on the ground.
Annabelle.
I move before I think her name, my body reacting to the instinct to heal her pain rather than do what is better for me, probably, and just walk the other way. I push past the people just acting like idiots and staring down at her.
My heartbeat thumps in my ears, and I can’t get to her fast enough.
We haven’t talked since I pulled out of her in my car and she slowly walked away as we looked at each other. And the last time we were on a set of stairs like these together, I was telling her it was over.
But now, I don’t even hesitate. I move into the middle of the crowd, bend down, and scoop her up. Without even thinking, I pull her to my chest, looping my arms under her knees and supporting her shoulders.
“Ah, what?” Those chocolate brown eyes hold pain and confusion.
“What hurts?” I ask as I walk away from the people on the steps, carrying her.
“My hand, maybe my wrist. I missed a step, these heels, I’m so embarrassed …” She hides her face behind her good hand.
Looking at her shoes, way too high to be wearing on a school day, and then down at her left hand, I can already tell that there is probably a break somewhere. Just an athlete’s eye, I’ve seen guys pop shoulders out and break ankles more than anyone on this campus.
She needs a doctor, and not the shitty campus ones. I want to take her to my trainers at the Triple AAA facility, but I don’t think I’m actually allowed to do that. So, emergency room it is. The hospital in Austin is held in high regard and I know she’ll be treated quickly there … or so I hope. Maybe we can both throw around some local celebrity to have her seen sooner.
“Boone?” Her eyes hold pain and questions.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I tell her as I load her into my truck. “I’ve got you.”
Eighteen
Annabelle
“So, who did you punch?”
Cain and Harper walk in hand in hand, and the pain medication they gave me has me a little happier than my normal personality. I can feel it, but there isn’t anything I can do to keep my thoughts inside.
“You guys are grossly happy. It’s kind of cute. Also, I punched no one. My hot heels made me trip.” I smile.
Cain rears back and stares at me, ribbing Harper. “Did she just smile?”
Harper chuckles. “Got you on some good stuff there, huh?”
I grin, pointing at her. “Sister, they definitely do.”
My hand still has a heartbeat, but I could no longer remember the pain of them setting my wrist bones back into place. The drugs are a nice bonus, but the cast they put me in is garish and cumbersome. I will not be able to film the show with this eyesore.
“So you tripped? Did you drive yourself here?” Cain looks a little concerned.
I shake my head vehemently. “A knight in shining armor picked me up, took me in his chariot!”
Again, Harper laughs at me. I laugh too, because this whole situation is just ridiculous. How in the hell had Boone been there at the exact moment I’d fallen down the science building stairs?
“A knight, huh? Did he slay the dragon, too?” Cain begins to tap on the hospital bed I’m lying in. “And how did you get this fancy room for a simple broken wrist? Did you drop my name?”
“No, she dropped mine.” Boone stands in the doorway, looking as handsome as Lancelot himself.
“And I might have slayed his dragon.” I giggle.
Harper lets out a sharp gasp and then covers her mouth as I cackle. “Oh my God!”
“Damnit, I thought I was the hottest athlete in this town. Can you move back to bumfuck North Carolina?” Cain pouts.
Boone walks in, looks down at me, almost checking in. I stare up at him dreamily … I can’t help it. The drugs have taken away all of the self-censorship from my brain to my mouth.
“Some of us are getting paid to be here, Kent.” Boone can’t resist getting a dig in at his former nemesis.
Cain looks wounded, if not dramatically. “Ganging up on the student-athlete. I see how it is, Graham.”
“Hey, I put my years in.” The man who picked me up off the stairs on campus turns to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Just dandy, knight.” I grin at him.
Inside of my head, I know this is embarrassing. It’s embarrassing to be ogling him, to call him my savior, to smile like a moron when he walks into the room. But the drugs rule all and I can’t help it.
“She broke her wrist falling down a set of stairs on campus. I got her the private room by signing an autograph for a nurse’s son, but don’t let that slip. Didn’t want her sitting down in the ER while they set the bones. Doctor said it needs to be in a cast for six weeks, and then an ace bandage and physical therapy for four weeks after that. They gave her a prescription for Percocet, but I’d have her stick to Tylenol if she can manage with the pain. Other than that, she’s ready to get discharged. Just needs a ride home.”
Boone rattles off the doctor’s orders as if he’d taken detailed notes, and I actually clap after he’s done. But he said I needed a ride home …
“You’re not going to take me home?” I pout.
I might be semi-high, okay fine, I’m really high, but I don’t miss the look that Harper and Cain exchange.
Harper nods at Boone, though. “We’ll take her to our place. Cain is leaving for a road game anyway, so she can stay with me for a day or two.”
I’m still focused on why Boone is leaving me in the first place. “But … you brought me here.”
He walks over to the bed, bending down so close so that I can smell his musk. He presses his lip to my temple, not in a kiss, but just resting them there.
“Feel better, Anna.”
* * *
I toss and turn as my eyes open, the pain in my wrist radiating up my arm and even causing laser sharp pings to pound against my temple.
“Ugh,” I moan in agony.
Harper is there in a flash. “Here, pain pills. And here is some water.”
My stepsister holds out the glass and the pills, helping to feed them to me as I press on the bed to sit up with my good hand. She’s been a damn saint for the past two days, taking care of me and distracting me while the pain of my broken bones rage within me. And I have to admit, it’s been kind of fun having a mom-type figure take care of me while I’m sick and hur
ting. My dad had always been around to do it, and had been a comforting person in my life, but … it was different having a mom be there like that. And I almost don’t remember anymore the time my mom was in my life like that.
“Thanks.” I cough, willing the pain pills to start.
She’s withheld the good stuff, instead demanding that I stick to over-the-counter pain remedies. While I know the hospital-grade medication would work wonders, I know she’s right. That stuff can be dangerous, and I hate having a fuzzy head. When it comes to alcohol, I don’t mind. That wears off quick enough, but the drugs scare me. Addiction scares me even more … always has for some weird reason.
Harper sits down, setting a plate of cookies on the bed. “I baked while you slept. Figured we could both use some sugar. And you’re going to want it, because it’s time to spill.”
I pick up a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie and breath in its scent. “Mmm, spill what?”
“What is going on with you and Boone?”
I try to avoid her gaze, but she hits my good arm. “Hey! I kind of need that, or I’ll practically be paralyzed.”
“So then out with it before I have to maim you permanently. This is sister code, or didn’t you know? You have to tell me everything that goes on in your love life.”
I stink-eye her. “I don’t want to know anything going on in your love life. Actually, I’d rather you never even mention Cain and love in the same sentence to me.”
“Too bad. Plus, you’re the one who convinced me to give him another chance, so that shit is on you. Now out with it.”
I sigh, picking up a second cookie. “We kissed a while back.”
Harper lets out a gasp through a big bite of cookie. “What!”
But before she can press me for more information, I just come out with it all. “And then we had sex in his car that night at the club that I spilled a drink on that slut he was dancing with.”
Now she just about chokes on said cookie. “I’m sorry, what?”
You’re the One I Don’t Want Page 7
