Doggie Style

by Piper Rayne

  I glance up to the stands one last time and I blink to make sure it’s not a mirage. There sits Teegan, one bench down from Layla, her purse in her lap and her million-dollar gives-me-a-hard-on smile plastered on her face.

  The third pitch comes in and I swing, making contact, and the ball sails over the back fence line.

  “Woohoo!” Jagger screams and fist-pumps the entire time he runs the bases.

  He’s waiting for me when I reach home, patting my head and then my ass.

  “Whoa, this isn’t the MLB, buddy.” I slide away from him.

  “Hey, Jagger, that’s my property you’re touching.” Teegan is at the fence line now, clinging to the fence.

  “He was mine first and then you came in and made him straight.” Jagger pretends to cry until he hits the dugout and then he’s screaming and cheering and woohooing.

  I rush out of the field and pick her up in my arms, swinging her around. She giggles and pats my shoulders to put her down.

  “Thanks for coming,” I say, my face inches from hers.

  “Nice home run.”

  “It was for you. Now you have to come to every game.” I plant a swift kiss on her lips. I’d dive deeper and longer, but there’s a crowd and Teegan doesn’t seem to like public affection. Unless finger-fucking her on a plane counts.

  “Deal.”

  “Come on, Romeo,” Vance says.

  “Hey, maybe you should take a few lessons from your friend. I have to struggle to fit my lips though the opening of the fence,” Layla says, her eyebrows raised in Vance’s direction.

  “Come here.” He crooks his finger.

  “No,” Layla says.

  “Come on, you know you want to.” He smiles, those dimples out and on display.

  Layla rolls her eyes, but stands up. I hold my hands out for Via and she passes her to me on her way over to Vance. Teegan positions her body so she’s a step away from me.

  Layla and Vance kiss through the fence and then she pokes him in the stomach with her finger. “When did the wooing stop?” She laughs.

  Vance reaches down for his mitt at his feet. “I woo you every night.”

  “Uh-huh,” Layla says and then takes Via from my arms. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she says to us.

  Teegan laughs. “Layla, this is Teegan. Teegan, this is Layla Andrews.”

  “We’ve met,” Layla says, smiling.

  “The staircase,” Teegan adds on.

  “Man, you keep seeing me at times when my man is falling short.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Come sit with me.” She leans in close. “The other women are afraid to approach me.”

  I kiss Teegan on the cheek and then smack her ass. “Have fun, but don’t get too distracted. You’re here to watch me, remember.” I point to myself and she rolls her eyes.

  The two women go up the bleachers and the anxiousness leaves my body as I head back to play the rest of my game. It already feels like I’ve won with Teegan here.

  22

  Teegan

  I pull out my phone and turn ever so slightly from Layla on my other side, hiding it beside my leg.

  Me: I am sitting next to Layla Andrews right now. Eeek!

  Sophie: Shut up. I’m coming. Where r u?

  Me: No. I gotta go before she thinks I’m outing her to the paps or something.

  Sophie: Send me your location.

  Me: No way. You can come with me next time.

  Sophie: Ask her how Carver Sterling is in bed? I bet he’s a dud. Cheating asshole.

  Me: Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  Sophie: You’re dating her guy’s best friend. Ask!

  Me: Bye, Soph.

  Sophie: Gossipblocker. That’s even worse than a cockblocker, just so you know.

  I stuff my phone back in my purse.

  “I don’t get it, you know. I’m friendly, I smile,” Layla whispers. “But they all just hover over there. When we go for drinks, the guys come over, but the wives huddle together like they’re the Secret Service.”

  “Maybe people don’t know if you want them to approach you.” I shrug. I’m not sure I would walk up to a celebrity and be like, What’s up, girl?

  “Maybe.” She looks down at her daughter. “What’s it like?”

  I laugh, although I’m not sure at what. The woman makes me feel like the ugly duckling in high school. I almost place a finger where the bridge of my glasses would be to push them up on my nose. “What?”

  She knocks her shoulder lightly to mine. “To just be normal.” Her hand lands on my forearm.

  Layla Andrews is touching me. Eeek!

  “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’ve just been in this business since before puberty and I know no other way. People I’ve never met judge me based on articles with no truth to them. Or they love Carver so much, they hate me automatically because we’re getting divorced. Oh, man, listen to me. I sound like a bitch. You’re probably thinking to yourself, I should have stayed home.” She smiles a soft and sincere grin and instantly I see her as a fellow woman, not Layla Andrews.

  I turn to face her. “I imagine it must be hard. Can’t ignore the tabloids when they’re everywhere you go. I saw the whole Carver and Vance situation play out in the press. I can’t imagine what it would be like for my life to unfold in the public based on another person’s limited vantage point.”

  She squeezes my arm and I look at her beautifully manicured nails. “I knew I liked you. You’re going out for beers with us today.”

  “Um—”

  “Nope. No objections. Carver’s nanny is swinging by to get the kids after the game. It’s his night, but Payne loves the softball games and being bat boy, so Carver lets us keep the kids until after the game. Then we’re going out.”

  Sophie may disown me as a friend when she finds out about this.

  “Sounds great.” I smile, even though guilt tugs at the edges since I was thinking of checking on my mom. But I know I can’t be her keeper forever.

  Canine Couture beats Knobs and Knockers ten to eight with my man, Leo, hitting another home run in the final inning with two players on base. We go to a hole-in-the-wall taco fish bar where Jagger spends most of his time at the bar flirting while Vance, Layla, Leo, and I hang out at a table by ourselves. Layla was right—the other wives just hover in circles, drinking wine and gossiping, occasionally staring over at our table.

  Since I Uber’d it to the field, I hop in Leo’s truck to take me home.

  “Why are your friends’ wives so weird about the whole Layla thing?” I ask once we’re inside.

  He glances over to me, but it’s dark so I can’t read his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, they never talk to her. And they never introduced themselves to me.”

  His fingers tap on the steering wheel to the music playing through the speakers and I momentarily lose myself, remembering what those strong fingers can do to me. “I’m surprised they don’t fawn over her. They could be posting Facebook pics of them and Layla every Wednesday night.” He laughs to himself.

  “Do you think people judge her by what they read in the press?”

  “Hell, yes.” He clears his throat. “The business is nasty. People confuse fiction for real life all the time. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them think it’s wrong that she and Carver got married in the first place because they played brother and sister on TV.”

  “Man, I’m happy I’m not an actress.” I lean back and cross my legs.

  “I don’t date actresses, so it’s a good thing on more than one level.”

  “You mean anymore.” I should keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to know what I’ve dug up via my friend Google. I’d never want him to dig around in my life. But you know what the Internet is like. It’s my job as his PR person to know what they’re saying online about him, so sue me if I let myself wander a little further down the path than I should have.

  “What’s that?” he asks and for the first time I’ve known him his voice sounds uncerta
in.

  “If I’d dug a little deeper when I first started working for you I would have known you weren’t gay. Seems you used to be quite the player with the actresses.” I shift to face him. “Not that I care,” I add on hastily, lest I look like a jealous girlfriend.

  He rubs up and down my thigh. “It’s history, but you’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. You dug hard. I was a nobody, so most of the actresses were flagged with me as just an unknown male companion.”

  The heat of his skin on mine feels nice, and I know shouldn’t be jealous that he dated people like Layla. It’s just… how can I compare to someone most girls strive to look like?

  “They were nobody. Girls on the rise and I wanted what they had. It was a bad time in my life, so please don’t read anything into it.” His voice is rougher than I’m used to.

  “We all have a past.” I shrug.

  “I’d prefer not to know yours.” His hand moves from my thigh. He turns up the music and then clutches the steering wheel until his knuckles whiten.

  I realize that I’m not the only one suffering from a touch of the green monster. “You already met one.” He should know I had my fair share of partners, too.

  “And I didn’t like him.”

  I laugh. “You barely knew him. You talked to him for what, two minutes?”

  “I can pinpoint if I like someone in thirty seconds. He was an asshole.”

  “Can’t argue your point.” Does he have to be right about everything?

  His hand moves back over to my leg, a little higher up now, and my girly parts wake up like a panting dog.

  “Obviously our exes weren’t the ones, otherwise we’d still be with them. So we’ll stop thinking there was anyone before us.” The street light shines in the car and his beautiful wide smile illuminates the interior even more, if possible.

  My hand covers his, linking our fingers. “Sounds good.”

  “That means no more Googling.” A soft chuckle echoes in the car.

  “Believe me, I learned my lesson,” I say.

  He squeezes my hand. “I think I like you a little jealous.”

  He stops outside his condo building and I immediately move over to straddle him in the driver’s seat. I fiddle with the short hair at the base of his neck.

  “You like it when I want to claim you as mine,” I say.

  He grips my ass, molding his hands to my flesh. “You’ve already claimed me, but tell me what I have to do to claim you.” He inches forward and I meet his lips for a brief kiss.

  “Take me upstairs, we’ll go from there.” I grind my core into his hard erection.

  “Done.” He removes a hand from my ass and reaches to grab the keys from the ignition, turning off the truck.

  Opening the door, he keeps me on my lap and I duck my head until we’re clear of the door. With me wrapped around him like a koala bear he locks his car and carries me upstairs to his condo.

  I lick up his neck to his earlobe, nibbling a bit.

  “You keep doing that and I’m going to claim you on these stairs.”

  I grind myself against him, his strong arms holding me under my ass. “I dare you.”

  “You dare me?” he asks. “Not the wisest choice.” He stops mid-stride, lowering me to the metal staircase. “See, I could prop you up right here. It’s dark. Vance and Layla are at her place. No one else is really around.”

  He’s got me because for a place on the beach, his condo building is fairly isolated as far as what people can see.

  “Maybe I wouldn’t mind an audience when I claim you,” he practically growls.

  My ass hits the cold metal of his staircase and he bends down, his wet lips touching mine, and I forget where I am. My legs widen, and he finds his position between them. I speed the process up by sliding down his athletic shorts and boxer briefs until his dick is free from all restraints.

  “Condom?” he asks.

  I should tell him yes. If only he didn’t already have me all hot and bothered, burning up with a flame I need extinguished. I’m not sure even my Unicorn Cock vibrator would do the trick tonight. My hands reach up to splay on each side of his face. “Tell me you’re clean.”

  “I’ll run upstairs and get a condom.” He pushes his hips forward and the head of his cock pushes against my core. We both moan in unison. “The only problem is the sixty-pound dog who’s going to want to follow me.”

  “You’re not clean?” My voice might have a tinge of panic in it.

  “No!” he whisper-screams. “I am, it’s just we don’t have to.”

  “We’re good then. I’m clean and we don’t have to worry about pregnancy.”

  “Aren’t you the angel tonight.” He lifts my skirt, gently pulling my panties to the side, brushing the sensitive skin, electrifying my core and leaving my insides clenching. He situates himself between my legs, the tip of his dick pushing past my entrance.

  “Now, please,” I beg in the softest voice I’m able to.

  “Are you mine?” he asks, inching slowly, teasing me until I almost combust.

  “Get inside of me,” I say, gripping his t-shirt in my fists.

  His knuckles glide along my cheek. “Answer the question.”

  “Yes.” I wiggle on the stair, but he stops all movement.

  “Yes what?”

  I reach around, grabbing his ass and pulling him to me. “I’m yours.”

  “Now you get your prize.” He smiles down to me and thrusts at the same time, and my head almost falls back to the stair, but Leo reaches out, placing his hand on the back of my head. “Watch me.”

  I stare down, my eyes fixing on where he’s moving in and out of me at a ridiculously slow pace, but he’s lit the match inside of me that’s gradually burning down to the quick. The feel of him bare inside me is almost more than I can handle.

  Our movements grow faster and more frenzied, the noise of the slickness between my legs joining the sounds of waves crashing nearby on the beach. Leo ignites an unbearable craving inside me and my orgasm rushes over me like an elevator climbing a hundred-storey skyscraper.

  I attempt to hold it at bay, wanting to enjoy this a while longer, but the elevator continues to zoom up and there’s no escape.

  “Fuck.” Leo’s mouth crashes down to mine and our tongues move in a frenzy, devouring any inch uncovered.

  I raise my legs, and Leo takes the chance to get deeper inside of me and that’s my undoing.

  As though the elevator cable has snapped, my orgasm rips through me and I catapult back down to earth, reaching the ground spent of all energy.

  I lie there sated for a minute and I can tell Leo is close. “Come in my mouth.” He will not ruin my new skirt.

  “Shit, you’re killing me.” He pulls out of me and I see the thick pulsating veins in his cock right before he straightens his body and I slide down a few stairs, taking him in my mouth. A second later, Leo’s hot cum is coating my throat while we both moan our pleasure. He barely hangs on to the railings and I lean back on my elbows, both of us catching our breath.

  “This is a promising start to tonight.” He pulls up his pants, holding his hand out for me to take.

  I stand and fall into his strong embrace, my legs weak. “I’m calling an Uber,” I say.

  From the look on his face he’s not happy about this. “Why?” he asks, his arms tightening around me.

  “My mom is there and I’ve barely been home lately. I have to check on her.”

  “Can’t you call her?” he asks, but I shake my head. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

  We head back down the stairs and climb back into his truck.

  Poor Cooper—his legs are probably crossed at this point.

  23

  Leo

  The airplane tires land on the JFK runway and Teegan’s head is buried in my neck, but I do have circulation in my hand, so I’d say it’s an improvement on her part.

  “Okay?” I ask and she peeks out, unbuckling her seat belt and grabbing her compu
ter bag. Like it never even happened.

  “Good. Thank you.” She stands, waiting for me to stand.

  I’ve figured out that Teegan doesn’t like to show any sign of weakness, so I let the moment pass without further comment.

  We exit the plane and head through the terminal to baggage claim. I’m thankful Oscar opted to come in one day early to visit some of his friends in the city. He’s so strung out and excited about this opportunity, he’s like an overzealous Chihuahua lately.

  “Cooper upset this morning?” Teegan asks.

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders.” You worried about Coop?”

  She swats at my stomach. “I just know how he gets when you leave. You could’ve brought him.”

  I squeeze her closer—maybe Cooper is growing on her. “New York is way too busy, plus he’s staying with Vance and Layla. Those kids will keep him going, he’ll crash at night.”

  “Like a play date?”

  “You know a lot about play dates?” I ask, letting her loose to get on the escalator.

  “I like play dates.” She coyly looks over her shoulder at me.

  “Me too. I plan on having one in about…” I glance at my watch. “An hour. Maybe sooner if I pay the cab driver a little extra.”

  She giggles, her back falling into my chest. “One day you’ll grow tired of me.”

  I kiss her temple and place my hands on her shoulders. “Never.”

  She’s silent and steps off the escalator. My hands fall to my sides and we stand in front of the baggage claim television trying to figure out where our luggage will come off.

  “Why do you think that?” I ask, linking my hand with hers.

  “Number eleven,” she says. We continue our way to the carousel. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s nothing.” She leans into me.

  Her diversions aren’t going to work.

  “Tee, what is it?” I ask.

  “You calling me Tee now?” she asks, her lips curling up.

  “Don’t change the subject.” I pull her away from the crowd growing around the carousel. We have nowhere we have to be, and I’m not about to lose an arm to get my bag first.