On the DL (The MVP Duet Book 1)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “I want you, I want us, and I want to try again. If we fuck it up this time, then we know we tried, but I’m not okay with wondering what if anymore, Slater. We’ve both changed, and maybe we’re old enough to do this together now. For some reason we were brought to the same place, at the same time, with no foreseeable way out. What were the chances?”

  He angles his head down to mine. “Slim to none, sweetness.”

  “Exactly.”

  I angle my head opposite of his, wanting desperately to take a kiss. To see what he’s learned over the years.

  “I love this.” He moves his finger up to my nose, flicking the small diamond I have there.

  “My one act of rebellion.” I grin. “You tell me I’m not colorful, I say fuck you and get a nose ring. Always kinda wanted one.”

  “It’s sexy as hell.” The tone of his voice drops lower.

  “Know what else is sexy as hell?” My tone is just as low as his, an awareness creeping between us.

  “What?” He uses his other hand to reach up into my hair, cupping the back of my scalp with his palm.

  “Your full lips. Were they that full when we were teenagers? Did I just not appreciate you enough, cause damn, Slater. This mouth of yours.” I reach up, rubbing his bottom lip with my thumb. His tongue sneaks out, grabs hold and draws my thumb into his mouth, sucking lightly.

  “Yeah?” he asks, after he lets go.

  I’m at a loss for words, my core clenching, my nipples hard at just that small touch. “It’s just everything.”

  And with that, I thrust up on my tiptoes, grab hold of his shirt, and fuse our mouths together. Our first kiss in ten years is a mating of sorts. Giving and taking on both our parts. The battle is a push and pull as our tongues glide together, as our fingers grab for purchase. Panting, scratching, biting, and a wildness like I’ve never felt before ensues as he moves his lips from my mouth and smears them down my neck. Opening my eyes to the dark sky, I see that lightning again, feel the breeze pick up, and feel the rain start to fall on my skin.

  There, on a hot summer night, next to a lazy flowing creek, in Northern Georgia, we’re cleansed of all the hurt we caused each other. Baptized by the memories washing over us like waves of our past washing out to shore on the Gulf. Forgiven for the lies we spoke to each other and saved by the grace of what could possibly come.

  Never, in the ten years since we parted have I ever felt more alive, and as he pulls his lips from mine, I breathe easier than I have since the day I left Willow’s Gap.

  Savage

  “Mal.” I breathe deeply, inhaling her shampoo as I bury my face in her hair. “Goddamn, I’ve missed you.”

  Those words slip out before I can stop them. One thing I can’t do is stop touching her, running my hands along her body, pushing her clothes around here and there so that I can feel bare patches.

  Her green eyes meet mine, and I see the pain there, see that she’s been feeling the same type of things I’ve been feeling. Her bottom lip quivers. “I missed you too. I tried not to, told myself that it was all my fault. That I deserved to miss you.”

  “You gotta forgive yourself, Mal. I forgave you a long time ago.” I pull back, running my hands up and down her neck, cupping her jaw, not able to believe she’s here with me right now.

  “Did you really?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “Didn’t know it at the time, but I did.” I blow out a breath. “Doesn’t mean I was ever able to truly give myself to another woman, because nobody was or is you. But yeah, Mal. I did forgive you. Didn’t realize it until recently, but maybe that’s part of growing up, ya know? I wouldn’t be able to be here with you now if I hadn’t forgiven you.”

  She extends to her full height, hooking her arms around my neck. “Then I’m gonna work to forgive myself, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the grownup you. Letting you in so that you know who I am now. Finding out new things about each other. This could be a lot of fun.”

  Resting my hands on her hips, I lean in, kissing her softly on the neck. “Ready to get to know the grownup you too. Game on, baby,” she giggles. “Game on.”

  Sixteen

  Malone

  “There’s a hottie out in the front asking for you, and he looks familiar.”

  I glance up at Cherry from where I’m putting cookies on a cooling rack. “He look like a model? Like he just rolled out of bed? Messy hair and what looks like a perpetual five-o’clock shadow?”

  “Yes, and a body to die for, like if I could see under his clothes, I could probably bounce a quarter off the abs he’s sporting.” Her eye dance with appreciation. “Wonder if we could get him to stand outside and offer up free samples? We’d have women and men beating our door down.”

  I laugh as I wipe my hands off on a towel, knowing she’s telling the truth. “You recognize him because he’s a professional baseball player.” I can’t help the way my stupid heart has sped up, knowing Slater’s out in the front. “He’s Savage, the one who hurt his knee during Spring Training. There was a lot of media coverage about it.”

  “Oh my God! That is him. He’s wearing a tank top and I can see a tattoo on his chest and upper arm. That’s what’s throwing me off. You typically can’t see it when he’s on the field. You only see him with part of it showing.”

  I’d been with him when he got one of those tattoos, the smallest of the bunch. Lying about his age at seventeen and using the fact he was the starting center-fielder on the local high school baseball team. He shouldn’t have been able to get it, but he had. He hadn’t even had to pay for it. That probably should have been my first indication that he wasn’t like the other boys we went to high school with.

  “How do you know him?” Cherry asks, her eyes wide, already hanging on whatever it is I’m about to say.

  “We were engaged in high school, and I went out on a date with him last night.” It gives me a little thrill to admit that we went out. I didn’t sleep well at all after I’d gotten home because I still had his taste on my lips, the burn of his stubble on my skin.

  “Malone! What the hell? You’ve been holding out on me.”

  Rubbing my hands on my apron, in a nervous gesture this time, I laugh loudly. “I’ve been holding out on everybody. Not many of the people who still live in this town know about what we were to each other when we were teenagers, and those that do, don’t bring it up. We had a really bad breakup. So bad I didn’t date for two years afterward, and neither one of us has moved on.”

  “Well you gotta go out there and wait on him. Obviously he didn’t come here for the sweets, if you look at his body. He came here to see you.”

  “Don’t let those abs fool you.” I smile as I recall some of those memories I have of him. Memories no one else will ever have, nor will they find out about. They’re mine and mine alone. “Slater’s got a hell of a sweet tooth.”

  Before I walk out, I turn to her, pushing my hair back. If I had makeup with me, I’d touch up my face, but I didn’t think to bring any with me today, and now I’m regretting it. If he might be stopping by from now on, maybe it’s something I should take time to fool with in the morning, or at least carry it with me. “Do I look okay?”

  “Beautiful! Go get him, Malone.”

  As she says it, I hope what we’re doing is right, I hope we aren’t setting ourselves up for a letdown. Getting involved with him again could lead to more hurt, more heartache, and who’s to say either one of us will be able to bounce back from it the way we have now. But after last night, I feel differently about him than I have in the past.

  I miss him. I miss the us we used to have. I miss the easy way he and I used to be around one another. For hours we would sit around, not having to speak to each other, no explanation was needed - we could just be together. Just being with him was one of my favorite things. My favorite spot was in his arms, curled up against his chest with my head tucked under his chin. Not having that for ten years is a long time, and I realize with great clarity that no one else has ever
felt like home to me. He holds that distinction, and that feeling means something. It shouldn’t be thrown away, it shouldn’t be forgotten, shouldn’t be watered down just to make me feel better about what happened in the past. It should be nurtured and maybe, just maybe we can get back what we once had. Only it won’t be the same. With any luck, it’ll be so much better.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk out into the main lobby, but keep the case between us. “Hey.” I grin, loving the way he looks mussed and sleepy.

  I allow myself to believe he came here first, before he did anything else. I’m that priority in his life, and damn does it feel good.

  Savage

  The way she says hey is the cutest, sexiest thing I’ve heard. No one in my life has ever had a voice like Malone Fulcher. I swear she sounds as if she’s smoked three packs of cigarettes today. Couple that with the southern accent that’s never gone away, and her tone gives me an instant hard-on.

  “Hey,” I answer back, reaching down to discreetly readjust my package.

  “What are you doing in here? Don’t you normally go over to Del’s for your egg white omelet?” She gives me shit, just like she always has. It feels good, feels right, and turns me on to argue with her.

  “It’s against the law for me to come get a donut?” I lean against the counter, scratching the back of my head as I watch her.

  “Not if you really want the donut.” She plays along. “What was it you told me back in the day? You have to run a mile to burn off a donut.”

  She points to the donuts in the case. This particular one with sprinkles and pink icing. The pink reminds me of the color of her lips, probably tastes as sweet as she does too. “Is the donut worth it, Slater?”

  “It is,” I answer truthfully, my dark eyes meeting her light ones. “Sometimes you take the hit, you do the extra mile, and you enjoy the sweeter things in life.”

  “You’ve come a long way.” She reaches in, grabbing the sweet treat. “I remember when you’d never let something like this pass across your lips.”

  “Back then I had all the sweetness I needed, but it came from-” I give her a wink “-other sources, I guess you could say.”

  I watch, fascinated as her face turns a pretty pink, and those lips of hers plump up. Her eyes dilate, and I wonder if underneath the apron she wears her nipples are hard. I know she knows exactly what I’m talking about. Back when we were kids all we cared about was getting alone so that we could explore each other’s bodies. Horny wasn’t just a state of mind, it was a way of life. I have a feeling we could be back there quickly if we don’t watch it. One thing we’ve never been lacking is off-the-charts chemistry, even if we didn’t always know what do with it.

  “You having a bit of a dry spell?” She hands me the food I’ve been eyeing.

  “For what I really want? ‘Bout ten years.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but they’re one hundred percent the truth. “How about you?”

  She’s moved down to the cash register, and finally there’s not that damn counter in between us. Her exposed chest is red, I can see her pulse fluttering at her throat, and she keeps glancing at me under those long eyelashes of hers.

  “If you were a gentleman you wouldn’t ask.”

  Leaning in, I crook my finger at her. Before giving me a coy gaze, she leans in. My lips are so close to her ear, I can feel her skin against them. “I never claimed to be a gentleman, in fact, I think most have called me a savage. But maybe I should reacquaint your body with my attention? If you think I’m a gentleman, you need a refresher.”

  She eyes me, shifting from one foot to the other. “I really don’t think I’d say no,” she whispers, the blatant honesty in those green eyes of hers.

  “I wouldn’t either,” my admission a groan of need.

  Someone else comes in, causing the bell over the door to ring, knocking us both out of our passionate haze. I give her a wave as she goes to help the other person. As I walk out and take a bite of the donut, I realize just how much I’ve missed having her taste in my mouth.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” Mack asks as I drift off while doing one of my exercises. It’s boring, it’s repetitive, and I desperately need something to take my mind off of Malone.

  “Just got a lot on my mind,” I admit. “And I’m sick of doing this shit. I’m ready for something a little tougher.”

  “How about we do the pool today?”

  “You think I’m ready for that?” I know that when they move me to the pool, I’ll be able to run. First it’ll only be in the water, but then the next step is to run the way I like to.

  My heart speeds up as I think about what this means. I’ve wanted to feel pavement beneath my feet for so long, and not just walking. I’ve fucking missed running, everything about it. The high I get from it, the physical release, the activity, and even the way my body is sore after I push myself particularly hard. I want this so bad I can taste it.

  “Yeah, I think you’re ready for it. You’ve gained quite a bit of mobility in the knee. The doctor said you’re progressing right on track. As long as you ice it tonight, I see no reason why you can’t. We’ve gotta take it easy, but we’ll never know what you can handle until we give you something to test your limits.”

  Those right there? They’re the best words I’ve heard since I got injured. They make me believe I truly can come back from this, give me hope that this isn’t going to ruin my career, and make me feel like I’m the man I’ve always been.

  “Go get changed and meet me in the pool. We’re about to put you to work.”

  I don’t think I’ve moved that fast in almost three months.

  Seventeen

  Savage

  “Come in,” I yell at the tentative knock on the door to the apartment I’m staying in over my parent’s garage.

  “Are you okay?” Malone asks as she takes in the picture of me, carrying bags as she comes inside.

  I’m sure to most people it looks like I’m a science experiment gone wrong. I’m lying on the couch with a contraption on my leg, watching a TV show. “It’s cold therapy,” I explain. “It continuously has compression and sends penetrating cold to what’s being healed. I overextended a little today, so I’m spending a little extra time hooked up,” I explain as I close my eyes, letting the machine work it’s magic because it feels so good.

  “Did your PT say it was okay to overdo it?” she asks as she puts the bags on my counter.

  “He’s the one who told me it was okay to run in the pool.”

  “Oh Slater, I bet you went balls to the wall didn’t you?” There’s a hint of a laugh in her voice.

  “Is there any other way to go when they tell me I can run?” I open an eye and watch as she starts unloading the bags. “What do you have?”

  “I brought stuff to make for dinner.” She turns around, looking at me over her shoulder. “I figure neither one of us wants to go out and be the talk of the town just yet, so maybe we can have a cozy night in.”

  “You? You’re gonna cook for me?” This is something she’s never done before, and I have to admit, it’s warming a place inside my chest that’s been cold for a long time.

  “Yeah.” She grins. “Is that cool with you?”

  “Sweetness, if you wanna get that fine ass in the kitchen and make me dinner, I will not complain.”

  “I assume you still eat all that healthy stuff right?”

  I rub my stomach nodding. “Even though I’m recovering, it doesn’t mean I can go crazy with my diet.”

  She holds up a package of chicken and a couple of sweet potatoes. “This good?”

  “Can never go wrong with chicken and veggies. If you’re baking the meat, there’s a ton of spices up in that second cabinet.” I point to the one I’m talking about.

  “Perfect.” She gives me a smile as she gets set up at my kitchen table. There’s not a lot of counter space, and this allows me to watch her as she goes to work. “You thought of everything didn’t you?” I notice
she’s also brought disposable pans.

  “I didn’t know what your situation was like here, if you have a dishwasher or whatever. Didn’t want to make more of a mess for you.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  Before she came in, I’d been watching my team play a game that I’m not a part of. Now, I can’t pull my gaze from her. She may or may not notice me looking at her, she’s not giving me any indication either way, but I can’t stop my eyes from eating her up. She’s peeling the sweet potatoes, dicing them up, and putting them on a pan.

  “Why are you staring at me?”

  Her question pulls me out of my observation. “When did you stop talkin’ with such a thick accent? When did you start dialing it down for other people?” I turn the question around on her.

  “When I moved. Didn’t want people to think I was a country bumpkin they could walk all over. Many of my coworkers made the mistake of assuming I was naïve because of how I spoke. It never sat well with me, so I changed my accent.”

  “I miss it.” I close my eyes, listening to her talk. “You had this soft way of speaking that always made me feel at home. The way you said your I’s, and the way you dropped the g every once in a while.” I rub against the stubble on my face. “You wanna know a secret?”

  “Do you trust me enough to tell me one, Slater?”

  It’s easy to fall back into old habits, they die hard, but I do trust her, more than I should, especially after how we ended it before. “I never stopped. It’s hard to not trust someone who knows all your secrets.”