by Violet Blaze
Rhoden sees it and goes completely rigid.
“I'll see you soon, Della,” he tells me as he turns and lets his sister guide him back the way they came. As soon as they're out of sight, I breathe a small sigh of relief.
“You didn't believe anything he said?” I ask, looking tentatively at Rhoden, but he's already turning to me and cupping the sides of my face with his hands. Before I can protest, he's kissing me, sliding his tongue into my mouth and tasting me like we're alone in bed and not in front of a dozen people backstage.
When he pulls away, he has some lipstick on his mouth that I reach up to rub off with my thumb.
“You're telling the truth,” he says, “I can taste it.”
The signings take so long that by the time we're done, it's dark outside and I've got the words Big Dick pressed into the backs of my eyelids. I'd say at least seven out of ten people had Rhoden sign his name like that on their footballs, and only about half of those gave him dirty looks like they had an idea about what it meant.
“Silver Waters is closed now,” I say as I check my phone in the back of the limo. “And technically, our date is over. I was only supposed to get until eight. It's close to ten now. You're a free man now, Richards.”
“I have the day off tomorrow,” he says as he leans across the space between our seats. “There's this dog-friendly bar down the street from the park. I could grab Billy, and you could grab your Little Dick,” he grins as he says this, “and we could walk over there. Even if you can't have booze, they make the most kick-ass bar food. They fry pretty much everything under the sun there. What do you say?”
“Are you trying to make me fatter?” I ask and Rhoden raises his eyebrows, giving me another one of those head-to-toe examinations. The way his eyes sweep my body, I get chills.
“You're not fat, Della,” he assures me, sliding over to sit next to me again. I feel like he's holding back, but I'm not sure why. Now though, with his thigh pressed against mine, I can feel his heat burning my skin. Does he want me? I glance down at his crotch, but I don't see any hint of a bulge in his jeans. “Are you … checking me for an erection?” he asks as my eyes snap up to his face and I flush.
“N-no. No. Of course not. Obviously not.”
Rhoden reaches over my lap and takes my right hand, pulling me across his lap so that I'm straddling him. When he puts his hands on my hips and encourages me to relax against him, I can feel it.
Oh.
His hands squeeze me as he leans in and breathes against my ear.
“You don't need to search for it,” he assures me. “Because it's right here.”
I bite my lip and stare up at the ceiling for a moment to catch my breath. I can feel my chest heaving against his, my breasts brushing against Rhoden's chest. When I look back down at him, I can't help it, I slide my arms inside his jacket/sweater combo like I've been wanting to do all damn day and hug him.
Rhoden lifts his arms from my hips and puts them around my waist, squeezing me back.
“What's this for?” he asks quietly against my ear, letting me press myself against his hard, warm body. There's a slight second of hesitation before he relaxes, rubbing one of his hands up and down my spine.
I don't want to exaggerate here or anything but … it's, like, the best thing I've ever felt in my life.
“Thank you for being a gracious adult about all of this,” I say and feel his mouth smile against the side of my face, stubble scraping my cheek in a pleasant tickle.
“Well, I did threaten to beat the crap out of Walter in plain sight, so I wouldn't exactly say that.”
“Close enough,” I whisper in that warm crook between his shoulder and neck. “Close enough.”
Rhoden takes me over to his apartment to pick up Billy the Kid and it is, quite literally, across the street from mine. As soon as I realize what floor he's on, and what side of the building, I realize that our places look out at one another.
“This is so crazy,” I say as the doors open on Rhoden's penthouse and I step out of the elevator. Even though it's the only apartment on this floor, there's a small hallway with a proper front door, a welcome mat, and two decorative plants on either side. “Can you see in my window from here?”
He laughs as he unlocks the door and lets me in.
“Not exactly,” he says as I take my first step into the place where my kid could be spending half his time, walking across the hardwood floors slowly in my red heels and then pausing to look out the window to my left. Across the street, I can see my building in its towering white glory, but the space between the two places is large enough that I can hardly make out my own drapes. Still, it's pretty coincidental that we'd live this close to one another.
Rhoden whistles and Billy comes trotting into the living room, yawning and stretching, her tail wagging furiously at the sight of LD and me. I let him off his leash so the two of them can sniff each other. Billy gives him about a second of that before she growls and then proceeds to try and mount him.
I flush and pretend not to notice, letting them do their thing.
“You have a nice place,” I say as I look around at the lush furnishings, the football memorabilia in glass cases against the wall, and the seemingly random display of art hung like a gallery on either side of it.
“I picked it because it's close to work,” he says, and I smile. It's funny hearing him talk about football like it's a job. “And because of the view.”
Rhoden closes the front door and comes up to stand behind me, way too close for any sort of casual conversation. I shiver and close my eyes as he rubs the knuckles of his right arm down mine, making me shiver.
“What view?” I ask as I realize he hasn't bothered to turn the lights on. Outside, red and orange lights flicker by with the traffic and tiny groups of people move past on the sidewalk next to the green belt. Rhoden puts his hands on my waist and gently moves me forward with his body.
“This one,” he says as he reaches down and takes my hands, planting the palms flat against the glass and putting his lips to my ear. “This spot has the most incredible view of the stars.” Rhoden takes my chin and tilts my head up so I can see the swatch of dark sky above the park. Meanwhile, he sneaks his other hand under my skirt and slides his warm fingers across the front of my panties.
I relax into his touch, letting my cheek press against the glass as he caresses me with that same, slow careful way of his. It's an adaptation to having a huge cock, I'm sure of it. I close my eyes as Rhoden plays with my clit through the fabric, teasing and caressing it into a hard nub, his breath feathering against the side of my throat.
“What happened to dinner at the bar?” I whisper, but honestly I don't really care anymore.
“They're open all night,” he purrs and I shiver all over, pressing his right hand flat against my tummy while he continues to tease me with his left. I'm not sure what we're doing here, if this means anything, if Rhoden wants to pursue a relationship or what, but it feels too damn good to stop and ask any of those questions. I figure they can wait.
As soon as Rhoden gets my panties nice and wet, working a warm spot onto the front of the fabric, he slides his fingers inside, continuing his exploration with long, gentle strokes of his middle finger. When it's all nice and slippery, he slides two of them in, teasing my opening and making me moan against the glass. My breath fogs against it, obscuring the view of the stars for a moment.
My eyes slide shut of their own accord as Rhoden lifts his right hand and caresses my breasts through the fabric, kneading and massaging the tender flesh until I'm panting and arching my chest into his hand and my pelvis back against his body.
When he removes his left hand to unzip his pants, I let out a small whimper and lean harder into him, wiggling my hips against his body and getting a rough, frustrated sound in response.
“God, Della,” Rhoden whispers. “I kept thinking one more fuck and that'll be enough, but it wasn't. For whatever reason, I keep finding myself drawn to you. Each time we do
this, it only makes me want you more.”
Before I can respond, Rhoden is pushing my dress up and grabbing my panties. He drags them to the ground and unhooks them from one of my heels, leaving them dangling from the other. His hand when he places it against my bare hip, is like a scalding iron, marking my flesh with his print. The other guides his bare cock to my opening.
“Are you sure you're okay with this?” he asks, even though we already did it like this the other night. The question makes me smile anyway.
“It's not like I can get pregnant a second time,” I whisper and Rhoden groans, sliding deep into me and grabbing tight with both hands. My fingers stay splayed against the glass as I resist the violent churning of his hips, the warmth and tender ache of feeling his body stretching mine.
The more resistance I give him, the harder he thrusts, strumming a dark ember of heat, fanning it into a brilliant flame. As I lean my pelvis into his, pushing back from the glass a few inches, I realize I can see our reflections. Rhoden smirks wickedly at me, his full mouth curving in a beautiful dichotomy against the masculine strength of his jaw as our eyes meet.
I feel so beautiful in that moment, my dress pushed up around my hips, my legs bare, feet encased in red heels. My hair's falling in bouncy curls from my bun, my eyes wide and pupils dilated with desire. I can see the outline of Rhoden's sun-kissed fingers against my skin, the darkness of his hair, the heat of his gaze.
The image is so compelling that I find myself falling hard into an orgasm, my knees giving out completely. The only thing that keeps me from hitting the floor is Rhoden's arm as he snakes it around my waist and lowers me down slowly.
Gently, he guides me onto all fours and positions himself behind me again, the pressure of his body making me cry out when he enters me, fucks me slowly with sure, strong movements. I can see his chest rising and falling in harsh breaths, hear the rough moans that break from his throat with each slide of his shaft inside of me.
His hands move from my hip to my waist, holding me in place as he slams our bodies together and comes with his head tilted back, his throat bared. I watch it all in the reflective surface of the glass as he fills me with his heat and then collapses next to me, drawing me into his arms as we both struggle to catch our breath.
“I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner, Della,” Rhoden says after a few moments as I turn over to face him. There's just enough light coming in from outside that I can see the rich espresso color of his eyes. They're half-lidded and dark and achingly beautiful. “I wanted to.” There's a long pause as he takes a deep breath. I can feel the expansion of his chest against mine. “I think I was kind of … pissed.”
I raise my brows, but don't say anything, letting him fill the silence.
“You'd told me that you were breaking up with Walter, and then there was all this news about the two of you, all these pictures, and the fact that all the articles said you were pregnant …” He pauses again and reaches up to the bun in my hair, untangling it and pulling the bouncy strands free. “I guess I was jealous. And angry. I thought maybe you'd lied to me. I should've known something was wrong when your blog went missing.”
“It's okay,” I say, but he's shaking his head at me, cheek pressed into the hardwood floor beneath us. It's not the most comfortable place in the world, but I don't have the heart to move. My legs are tangled with Rhoden's and his body is hard and warm and comforting. I like it here.
“No, it's not. I should've … well, fuck. I've never actually been any good at this stuff, you know?”
“Is that why you don't do romance?”
A slight smile takes over his face.
“Maybe.”
There's another long moment of silence, the only noises from the street below and the click of the dog's nails on the floor. Rhoden watches me the entire time, leaning forward after a few moments and pressing his mouth to mine. Our tongues sweep together in a romantic waltz as he cups the back of my head and holds me tight to him, dragging the straps of my dress over my shoulders and undoing my bra. As soon as he cups my bare breast in his hand, I'm done for, relaxing in his arms and arching against him.
When Rhoden's ready, he mounts me again, pressing my body into the floor, pinning my wrists gently with his hands. My lids flutter closed and I relax completely, all my worries about the future obliterated by the pleasure between my thighs.
Let's just say, we don't exactly make it to the bar that night.
When I wake up the next morning in Rhoden's bed, I'm completely disoriented. I sit up and rub at my face with both hands, trying to clear the blurriness away. When I drop my hands to my lap and blink a few times, the room comes into bright, golden focus. The wall of floor to ceiling windows to my left is half covered with dark shades, sunshine leaking in through the bottom.
In the morning light, the dark wood floors shine bright and the red paint on the walls looks vibrant and lively. There's a couple of framed jerseys on the wall across from me, one on either side of a large flatscreen that's silently playing the Thanksgiving day game against the Titans. There's a small table in the corner paired with a chair and a notebook, the pages covered in small, dark script.
I feel warm heat radiating from a body next to me and turn to find both Billy and LD curled on the bed by my right arm. With a racing heart, I lean back into the pillows and stare up at the ceiling.
Holy crap. I'm in Rhoden Richards' apartment right now. Ariana would die.
For me, this is the first time I've ever slept over at a guy's house. I usually leave … or they do. This time, I can hear Rhoden's footsteps in the living room/kitchen area and I smile. Then frown. Then panic.
I told him about the baby and Walter knows it.
What the hell is going to happen to the two of us?
I stay laying down, noticing that there's a quote written in black paint on the ceiling above me.
Stay sharp, stay strong, fight to be kind. The world needs all three of these things in a man, son.
“My mom painted that,” Rhoden says, pausing in the doorway to the bedroom. I don't know how he knows I'm awake, but there's no sense in pretending. I roll onto my side and glance over at him.
“She painted that?”
“Yep. She's a little … quirky. She did it after I moved in when I gave her a spare key. Waited until I was at practice and then I came home to this.” Rhoden says it like he's pretending to be annoyed, but his lips are smiling.
He pads into the room in bare feet, wearing a pair of red sweats and a black tank with a purple Arcata Adders logo, team colors. He sits on the bed next to me and nods his chin at the TV.
“I was watching some gameplay, taking notes,” he says and I smile, his heady, warm scent wafting up from the sheets. I don't even remember coming in here, but I do remember his body pressing me into this mattress, riding me from above. Gawd, how many times did we do it?!
“Can I give you some food for thought?”
“Shoot,” he says, studying me carefully, his long lashes emphasizing the deep, darkness of his gaze. “You play with a lot of passion, but I notice that you're more likely to attempt running a touchdown into the end zone than passing. Don't be afraid to let go and make that pass. You have a beautiful throwing arm.”
Rhoden raises both brows at me.
“What? Too amateur?” I ask, trying to laugh it off.
“No, too eerily accurate. I'm pretty sure the QB coach told me the exact same thing last week.”
“He said you had a beautiful throwing arm?”
“Except for that part, maybe.” Rhoden keeps looking at me and then takes a deep breath. “I can't believe we're having a baby,” he says and I feel my face flush warm. “To be honest with you, I'm still in a bit of shock.” His mouth purses. “And I can't even believe that cocksucking Virgin is trying to weasel his way into taking what's mine.”
“Cocksucking Virgin, not sure if I've ever heard that one before,” I joke, but I'm fixating on his words. Mine. What's mine. What? The baby? Me? Both
of us? I have no idea how to ask that question. “You should've seen me the day I found out. I cried a lot. Too much.”
Rhoden looks at me and his face softens a little.
“I'm seriously fucking sorry. Believe it or not, this has never happened to me as far as I know.”
We both sit in silence for a few seconds before I look down and see an orange tabby cat sitting on the floor in the sunshine. My lips quirk up at the corners.
“You have a cat?” I ask and Rhoden glances down, grinning.
“You think I can go to all those homeless pet charity events and not come home with a pussy of my own?”
“Looks like you nabbed yourself a couple,” I joke, and then remember that we haven't actually talked about what the two of us are planning on doing. At this point, we're still virtually strangers. “I didn't mean …”
“Della,” Rhoden starts as he looks at me with a dead serious expression on his face. “I was not looking to bring home a wife or a child or anything like that for a long time. When I said I didn't do romance, I meant it. I have a career and my life is good, has been good.” There's a quiet, heavy pause where I start to feel sick, like I want to get up and jerk my dress over my head, run all the way home in bare feet. “But I … didn't expect any of this.” He gestures loosely at me. “When I said I believed in fate, I meant it. I really do. When I thought you'd still planned on marrying Walter, I got upset. I said some things I shouldn't have.”
He looks at me, really looks at me.
“So here's what I think,” he starts as he takes a deep breath. “Next week, on my day off, I want you to come and meet my mother.”
“Your mother?!” I ask, and I feel chills travel up and down my spine. “I … isn't it a little early for that?”
Rhoden notices my discomfort and grins. He looks even sexier in the morning, his facial hair just a little scruffier, his eyes heavy lidded, hard body clothed in soft, easy fabrics. I could get used to this.
