by Lucy Snow
“Now that is a recipe for a little danger.” Hud was testing the waters.
“What is?” I looked at him quizzically.
“Having no other plans than dinner with me. How will you spend the rest of the night?”
I stared him down, biting my lip. “Hopefully not alone.” Yeah, it was bold, yeah, it was out of character, but the words just tumbled out of my mouth and I couldn’t help myself.
Hud looked at me again, like he was trying to see inside my head, before he nodded. “Sure, let’s do it. I’ll follow you?”
I hadn’t realized it, but we’d stopped right in front of his motorcycle. “Oh, I took an uber to get here,” I said.
Hud understood immediately. “You wanted another ride on the bike.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “Maaaaaaaaybe.”
He smiled. “You’re the worst, Mack.”
“Why, thank you, Hud.”
Hud gave me his coat and we got onto the bike and rode to my place after I gave him the address. The ride itself was amazing, feeling the cool air of the night run over my legs and up my dress, but having Hud’s warm body close by to keep me from freezing. I clung to him all during the ride, and I couldn’t help but get turned on having him so close to me.
We stopped in front of my apartment building and after he parked his bike, Hud and I went upstairs. I gave him a quick tour of the place, and he seemed shocked at how small and quaint it was, like he expected me to live in some decadent mansion.
“Nope, no mansion here,” I said, trying to intercept his thinking. “Just a small apartment.”
He stood in the living room, looking around. “I had no idea,” he said, clearly bewildered.
“I’m not here very much,” I said, putting my purse down. “Can I get you a drink?”
Hud nodded, still looking around at the room, and I made a couple drinks and handed him one.
We stood there and drank, looking at each other in silence. To anyone else watching it would have been awkward, but with Hud and I, it felt comfortable - we didn’t need words. I liked it. I talked a lot all day, mostly to boring people, so this was refreshing, and Hud was anything but boring to me.
As the drink hit me I felt myself get a little bit more bold, and I liked the feeling. I motioned to Hud and we sat down on the couch, at first a little bit far apart, but after a few minutes we both started moving closer together at every opportunity. If I had seen it in a movie I would have laughed at how corny we were being.
Soon I just draped my leg over Hud’s and made myself comfortable. We locked eyes and kept sipping our drinks, subtle smiles on our faces.
A moment later, Hud put his arm around me and pulled me in. I looked down, smiling to myself, my heart fluttering, as we kissed for the first time in way too long, our lips and tongues dancing together. “Mack,” he growled in between kisses, and I reveled in knowing that I could make Hudson Asher sound like that, so full of lust and heat and passion. It made me wet just thinking about it.
I pressed myself into him, climbing over as best as I could till I was straddling him, my short dress hiking itself up to where it just covered me. I sat in his lap like that on the couch, my arms quickly wrapping around his neck.
I breathed in his manly and musky sandalwood-like scent as we kissed and Hud’s hands traced their way, lightly at first but getting stronger, more fervent, as we fooled around. This was more like it. This was what I had been waiting for the entire night, and all the nights since I could remember.
Finally Hudson Asher was kissing me, and not in the heat of some other moment. This time it was all about us. I relaxed into it, feeling Hud’s cock pressing hard against his pants just below my aching pussy, just barely covered by my thong. Hud got even more aggressive, covering my heavy breasts with his huge hands, making me gasp as he kneaded them gently through the fabric of my dress. I let go and moaned, hard, letting him know that whatever he wanted to do, I was in.
Then Hud stopped, pulling back and pushing me away, gently, at the same time. “What’s wrong?” I asked, running my hands up and down his arms, trying to come back in for a quick kiss. “What can I do?”
“Stop for a second, Mack.” His voice was strong, completely devoid of the husky passion I had heard from him just a few minutes before.
I sat back, unsure of what was going on. “Why, what’s up?”
Hud stared at me with those deep, dark, eyes of his and I wanted to melt back into him and never come up, but he held me just out of reach. “Why are you doing this?”
I almost laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Hud furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. Not to me.” He looked around for the words. “Is this just your way of saying…thank you?”
Now it was my turn to look confused. “Huh?”
“Because of Steve, because of that thing the other night.”
So that’s what he thought this was all about? “No, Hudson, it’s not. I already thanked you for that, and you know how grateful I am.” I looked down at my dress and then back at him. “I’m really doing this because I want to.” I wiggled myself around on his lap, feeling his hard cock again under me. “And because I’m pretty sure you want to also.”
“Are you sure?” Hud didn’t seem convinced.
I pressed against his shoulders, looking up and around. “Yes, Hudson Asher, I’m sure about it.” I smiled. “I don’t wear this dress when I want to say thank you. This is strictly an ‘I like you and I want you to know it’ dress. Couldn’t you tell?”
Hud shook his head, looking incredibly naive. “There needs to be a guide to this kind of stuff.”
I leaned in and kissed him. “Here’s a tip. When the dress is this short, that means she likes you.” I kissed him again. “Got it?”
Hud smiled at me, and my heart left. “Got it. Thanks for the lesson, Mack.”
“Any time you need me to remind you, we can check out my closet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I leaned forward again, ready to get the kissing started all over again, but Hud clearly had other ideas. Very gently, he applied pressure to my left, and I soon found myself next to him on the couch, rather than straddling his lap.
As I watched, bewildered at what was going on, Hud stood up, and leaned over me, kissing me on the forehead. As he did so, I looked down at his crotch, and saw the outline of his cock pressing hard against his pants. It made my mouth water.
“I should go,” he whispered.
“Why?” I giggled. “Got somewhere to be in the morning? I think I know someone who could write you a note….”
“I’m sure Coach Armstrong would love that.” Hud smiled at me. “I really should go, though.”
Now it was my turn to stand up. ”Are you sure? You don’t have to go.” I got right up in his face. “You know, I want this too.” I reached down and ran my hand over the outline of Hud’s cock. “And I know you wanted.”
“More than anything I have ever wanted in the entire world. You have no idea.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I gotta go.” Hud looked straightforward, before coming back to me. “Ask me again sometime, all right?”
I nodded, and watched without saying anything else as Hud gathered his things and left. I tried to find the right words several times, so I could pipe up and try to stop him, but I was too flustered, both from the heat of what we had just been doing and just how abruptly it had come to a crashing end.
When Hud was finally gone I sat back on my couch, slowly coming down from how turned on I had just been. Why did he leave like that? What was wrong?
Was it me?
I had no clue as to the answers to any of these questions, but I did know one thing - I was way into this guy, and that wasn’t changing any time soon. I could tell he was into me too; I knew it from how he held me and the passion with which he kissed me. There was just something in the way, something keeping him from being able to let go around me the way I wanted him to.
But at the same time, I couldn’t risk anyone else knowing what we were doing - and not just because of the conflict of interest that would arise if someone found out I was…could you even call this dating? Anyway, kinda sorta maybe dating a player on the team I helped run.
It was thoughts like this that kept me awake late into the night.
CHAPTER 10 - HUDSON
I knew I had made a mistake the second I got onto my motorcycle after I closed the door behind me at Mack’s place.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay more than anything in the world. I wanted to pick Mack up, take her to her bedroom, tear that sexy dress off her and fuck her till neither of us could think straight anymore, because thinking straight was next to impossible when I was around her.
The cold air of the New England winter hit me and made me shiver a little as I pulled the jacket tighter around my shoulders. I looked down at my bike, suddenly remembering how thrilling it felt to ride around with Mack holding on to me, her hands clinging to my muscles.
I would never get tired of that.
I sighed as I put my helmet back on. “So why didn’t you fucking stay, dumbass?” I cursed at myself out loud, hearing my own voice muffled by the thick helmet as I finished with the straps and lowered the visor.
Of course I knew why I didn’t stay, even though I wanted to.
I left because I needed to be sure that Mack was in it for the right reasons. I had run into too many girls over the years who just wanted to sleep with a pro football player, enough that I had to make sure if I thought that this was going to be anything more than a short term thing.
And I had realized a few minutes ago that if I were to start something with Mackenzie Mayfield, it would not just be a short term thing. I wouldn’t be able to have just a short term thing with a girl like her.
Those days were over now.
I put the bike in gear and headed out into the night, the raspy roar of the engine soothing me and making me less angry with myself for leaving right in the middle of things.
I knew already that I had done the right thing as much as it hurt. If Mack was truly interested, given how it could hurt both her and I professionally, then we’d find our way back to each other and our night of interrupted fun would just end up a blip on the radar.
Of course, if she was just cruising for a football player to fuck, well, unfortunately for Mack and me, I just couldn’t be that football player.
I laughed at myself, again muffled by the helmet and the roaring engine - maybe I was growing up after all. Everyone I knew thought Hudson Asher was a big kid in a giant’s body - would they believe how mature I had become just in the last 10 minutes?
Nah. They’d never believe this.
My mind drifted as I rode home, drifted back to Mack’s couch, having her sitting in my lap like that, her lips on mine, until I had to shake my head to try and get rid of those thoughts.
It didn’t work. Instead, they drifted earlier and earlier, back to dinner, when I had to focus on our conversation to keep from leering at her across the table, she was dressed so hot. Like a supernova, she was tough to look at.
Back to our conversation about my career and what I wanted to do when it was done.
Sure, I had given it some thought - any smart football player would, given how dangerous the sport was, and how we didn’t have guaranteed contracts. Every year there were guys whose careers ended before they expected them to, because no one ever really expects to have to hang up their pads, even though everyone does in the end. Those guys who can’t play football anymore, if they don’t have a good amount of money saved up, they gotta go out and get real jobs - and if there’s one thing high school, college, and pro football doesn’t get you ready for, it’s a real job.
Me, I had never planned on having a long pro career, so even when it happened to stretch out past 10 years as I had just done, I had always been saving a good amount of money away. I was no superstar, but I had made a good amount of money over my career, and more importantly, I hadn’t spent it on investing in restaurants and other terrible ventures.
So it wasn’t like some of these other players, where their grandkids would never have to work a day in their lives, but I was pretty comfortable - mainly because I had never been too into the trappings of wealth. To me, the money I had earned always meant that I could do anything with my time after football - definitely not that I had a license to buy a ton of shit that I couldn’t afford, much less even use effectively.
The question that loomed in my mind, though, after that conversation with Mack at dinner tonight, was whether I had the courage to step away from the game of professional football before the game was done with me?
It was like Harvey Dent said in that Batman movie - “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” Not quite so dire a set of circumstances, but in this case, I could either quit while I was ahead and able to, or I could keep playing until injuries or old age forced me out.
Which would it be?
I was still mulling over this question when I pulled into my garage and got off the bike, stowing my helmet away. As I went up the elevator to my apartment I shook my head, a smile on my face. Imagine having an existential career crisis like this before my 33rd birthday.
It was almost comical. Except it totally wasn’t, because this was the question facing me and every pro football player after each season - should I keep going, or was this the end?
Of course, unlike guys from 24 other teams, my season wasn’t over yet - I still had games to play, so this entire thought process was premature.
But Mack had got me thinking about my life after football all over again, and now I couldn’t stop.
Football was all I had ever done, all I had ever thought about since I was 10 years old, and now, a sexy lady named Mackenzie had me thinking really hard for the first time in my life about what I was going to do when I was done with football.
Or when football was done with me.
CHAPTER 11 - MACKENZIE
I woke up the next morning and lay in bed for far longer than I should have, thinking about Hud last night and our dinner together and how his lips felt pressing hard into mine while his hand gripped the back of my head through my hair. I kept thinking about this as my hand crept lower and lower, toward my pussy, barely covered by my flimsy nightgown.
Needless to say, I enjoyed myself before getting out of bed that morning. If the rest of the day was good, it might just drown out the frustration that came at the tail end of my date with Hud last night.
Could I even call it a date? I sure thought it was, but maybe he didn’t, at first? That might explain why he seemed so surprised when we started getting a little close to each other.
As I got ready for work I thought more about our kisses - Hud clearly knew what he was doing in that department. He was a professional football player - his job was to play football, and the women around him’s second job was to throw themselves at him, and from what I had heard through the Patriots grapevine, Hud was no slouch in enjoying that aspect of his chosen professional career.
So why was I different? Of course, I wasn’t just some floozy throwing myself at him, but maybe that was the problem? I laughed to myself as I put my makeup on. Did I need to be more of a hussy, would that work?
Last night was kinda a mess, me going after him asking about the end of his career and all. In the harsher light of the morning I had realized just how confrontational that might have come off as, especially since when I wasn’t trying to get Hudson Asher’s attention I was kinda sorta maybe partly in charge of his continued employment with the team.
