Now it was his turn to look down at the table as the memories flooded over him. Memories of his mother strung out on a chair and not moving for hours, or of having to get himself ready for school and make his own lunches when he was all of six years old.
“Did she get better?” Michelle asked.
She sounded so hopeful he almost didn’t want to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her a beautiful redemption story about his mom's kicking her habit. A story where she had gone into a program which turned her life around, and of her being there to see him play football in the NFL. It was a dream he’d lived a thousand times in his mind. But that’s all it was, a dream. And one that would never come true, not now.
“She overdosed,” he said. He heard his voice crack and felt embarrassed heat rush to his face when he realized that tears were beginning to fill his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He remembered coming in from school and seeing his mother lying on the carpet with a bottle of pills in her hand. He remembered calling the cops, then lying down and curling up next to his mother’s still body.
“I was eight,” he said. “My grandma took me in after that.”
Tears were flowing freely now and when he looked down at the table he realized that his hand was shaking. He tried to will it to stop but could not seem to move any other limb of his body to combat the shaking.
Suddenly, he felt a small, warm hand reach out and cover his.
When he looked up, he looked straight into Michelle’s eyes. She was giving him a watery smile. The tears streaming down her cheeks mirrored his exactly. She moved her hand to intertwine her fingers gently with his. He pressed his hand against hers as though she were an anchor saving him from an upcoming storm.
He knew then, that he couldn’t let her go.
*****
Michelle didn’t know why she’d gone home with him. She hadn’t meant to. That was the whole point of meeting at the restaurant. The whole point of taking two cars. So that, at the end of the night, she wouldn’t be tempted. She would just say thanks for a fun night and be on her way. That’s fully what she’d expected to do.
But then he had told her about his mother, and they had talked the rest of the night about their crazy families, their friends, movies, books and everything in between.
That night she had caught a glimpse of a man she wanted to know. Not just over dinner or drinks, she wanted to know him intimately.
Maybe that was why, when he had invited her over to see his place, she had accepted.
“It’s pretty big, so a tour could take a while,” Chris said unnecessarily as he opened the door to a huge mansion and ushered Michelle inside.
She couldn’t help but look around the home in awe. She was in the middle of a long hall with marble flooring and an incredibly high ceiling. To her right, was a spiral staircase that curled its way up to a second level.
“Like it?” Chris asked her. She turned to him to find that he was smiling at her, clearly pleased to see how impressed she was.
“It’s definitely bigger than my place,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s the biggest place I’ve ever had too.”
He took off his coat revealing an impossibly tight white shirt, and all thoughts of the house left Michelle’s mind completely.
He turned back to her and gave her another smile. This one was undeniably sexy and she felt heat rush up her face.
“You want coffee or something?” he asked.
She found that she could do nothing but nod.
“Ok then,” he said, “the kitchen is over here.”
She followed him and as she walked, she found that she could not take her eyes off his muscular features which were well defined in his fitted suit. Not to mention that his see through white shirt combined with a tight backside was driving her insane.
“Decaf?” he asked as he turned on the lights to a large and pristine kitchen. She could not help but notice that there seemed to be a multitude of half-drunk liquor bottles on the counter, another reminder that she really shouldn't be here.
“Of course,” Michelle answered, finding her voice. “Caffeine would keep me up all night.”
He turned to her and grinned. Then, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “That might not be a bad thing.”
Then, teasingly, he pulled back as she gasped and felt heat race to an entirely different part of her body.
“Cream and sugar?” he asked as he moved towards the Keurig machine.
“Should I turn that into a cheeky double entendre?” she asked, trying to hold her own in this little game they were playing.
“Only if you want to,” he said with a smile and a wink at her.
Somehow that caused another shiver to run through her body. It seemed that everything this man did from speaking, to moving, to pulling out a sheet of paper would cause a pool of desire to form inside of her.
“Then I’ll take cream-” before she could finish the thought, she felt herself jerk forward. Her foot burned as it scraped on an open bottom drawer beneath the kitchen’s second oven.
Before she could fall forward, towards the mess of pots and pans lying before her, she felt a strong muscular arm make its way around her waist. She turned around to see Chris’s bright blue eyes looking down at her. Not with a teasing smirk, but with genuine concern.
This, combined with the warmth of his arm sliding around her waist, caused her breath to stop in her throat.
“Are you ok?” Chris asked.
That question, that simple genuine question, caused the dam to burst inside of her. Throwing caution to the wind, she reached up, grabbed the back of his neck and brought his mouth down to meet hers.
He seemed to be frozen in shock for half a moment. Long enough to make Michelle think that she may have made an incredibly embarrassing mistake.
A moment later, however, his lips were moving urgently against hers. Michelle felt his hands move from her waist to tangle in her hair.
The next thing she knew, she was being lifted bodily from the open kitchen drawer by her arms. She gasped as she felt her back collide against the cold wall of the kitchen.
She felt his hands move against the light fabric of her shirt. The warmth of his skin tantalized her causing every nerve in her body to jump and throb.
That little voice, the one that told her to be reasonable, to be sensible, was telling her that this was wrong. It implored her to remember the bottles of alcohol on his shelf.
She felt rather than heard a moan rise up from the bottom of her throat as Chris moved his lips to nip and suck hard on the skin of her neck. The moan had barely subsided when a sharp gasp issued from her as his hands moved to firmly knead her breasts beneath her shirt.
His lips were still licking and sucking at the soft, tender skin at her neck. Slowly, his lips made their way to her ear.
“God you’re perfect,” he whispered.
She could smell the alcohol on his breath and that nearly made her stop. The horrible and all too familiar scent reminded her why she shouldn’t be doing this.
Then she felt his hand slip beneath the loose fabric of her shirt. His thumb drifted over the bare nipple under her bra. She moaned again and lost track of any objection she may have felt.
“Do you know how fucking perfect you are?” he whispered roughly into her ear.
Suddenly, she didn’t care how many drinks he had had, she didn’t care what she had promised herself. She needed him. She desperately needed to feel his skin on hers, to feel his body surrounding her, enveloping her completely.
Without a second thought, she grabbed hold of his hands and moved them to the edge of her shirt. Then, with a smirk of her own, she leaned towards him, putting her lips on his ear.
“Why don’t you show me?” she asked.
Then she moved her own hand between them until her palm began to caress his growing member. He growled as he pushed her shirt above her head. She moved her hands behind her and quickly unhooked her bra.
&nbs
p; As soon as she felt her breasts spring free from the fabric, his hands moved to cup them.
“Mmm,” she moaned again as he moved his hands to her bottom and bodily picked her up so that her feet were dangling above the floor.
She could feel her wet, hot sex pressing up against his even through the rough fabric of the pants they still wore. He pressed his lips against hers quickly before sliding down her chest.
“Oh, god,” she muttered as his tongue found her erect, exposed nipple and began to gently suckle it. His hands were still cupped firmly around her denim clad bottom, and she moaned as he moved to suck on her other nipple. Through hooded eyes, she looked down and realized that she wanted, no, she needed to see his naked body.
She needed to feel his skin on hers and she didn’t care how out of character this was for her. She silenced the voice in her head telling her how very, very wrong all of this was.
Instead, she opened her mouth and voiced her desire.
“Shouldn’t we . . . oh, god . . . shouldn’t we . . . take this . . . to the bedroom?” she asked through desperate pants.
He looked up at her and smirked fully.
“So you’re a traditional kind of girl, huh?” he asked playfully.
“Take me upstairs and find out,” Michelle said with a playful smile of her own. It turned into a gasp as she felt him pick her up once again and she wrapped her legs around him.
This time, he moved her away from the wall as his mouth desperately moved to hers once again.
With Chris’s arms firmly encompassing her, she felt herself being carried up a long flight of stairs. The feeling was distant, like it was something she was trying to remember from a dream.
Indeed, every memory, every thought, everything she had ever known was floating away from her. Chris was all that was left. Chris and his hands, and his lips, and his tongue moving over her. Giving her everything.
Soon, she felt herself being tossed roughly onto the bed. She opened her eyes and met his. There was a need, a quiet desperation in his eyes, that she was certain matched the desire in hers.
His eyes told her everything she needed to know. He hadn’t planned for this either, but he needed it. He needed to know her, to feel her, all of her, completely.
His eyes remained locked on hers as he removed his shirt, his pants, and his boxers quickly. Then, he rushed over to the bed and quickly settled over her.
“Mmmmm,” she said again as she felt his mouth reattach itself to her breast. He moved to the other to pay it equal homage before moving down to her stomach.
As his lips moved lower and lower, she imagined his intended goal. A renewed pool of desire flooded to her center as she helped him unbutton her jeans and remove them from her legs.
Without any obstacles left, he continued on his path nipping and teasing just above where she needed him to be. He licked at her inner thigh as his hands moved to knead her breasts.
She moaned and thrashed desperately on the bed. She barely stopped herself from grabbing his head and forcing him to move where she wanted him.
Just when she thought she could stand it no more, she felt his warm tongue thrust out to lick the juices from her center.
“Oh god, oh god!” she cried out as pleasure ran through her. He continued to feast on her warm, wet flesh as she thrashed and shrieked on the bed.
Pressure was building inside her. She knew that she would burst at any moment. She was close. So very, very close.
That was why she let out a cry of protest when his lips moved from her center. The cry turned to one of pleasure however, when he grasped her hips and she felt him thrust inside of her.
He moved roughly, quickly in and out of her, and she knew that this was wrong. She knew she shouldn’t be here, wet and wanting and writhing on an alcoholic's bed.
But she didn’t care about that, couldn’t care. Not when he was pounding into her. Not when his strong hands were caressing every inch of her body.
She was so close again. She could feel the pressure building inside her as he moved his lips to her ear.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me.”
With a loud shout, she complied. He followed quickly yelling out to the room.
Michelle didn’t know how long they lay there sweating, limbs tangled. She did know that the voice inside her head was coming back with a vengeance. It was screaming at her that she had done something she couldn’t take back.
She wasn’t the kind of girl to have a one-night stand. She wasn’t the kind of girl who gave herself to a man without it meaning anything.
She knew what this meant. She knew she would have to talk to him.
“So, that was new,” he spoke first, his voice still groggy.
“It was for me too,” Michelle said. “Nice to know I’m not alone.”
“So,” he said rolling away from her so that they could face each other on the bed. “What happens now? I mean, is that it, or . . .?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be the girl’s line?” she asked with a smile. He chuckled as well, but the look in his eyes told her that he truly wanted an answer.
She would have to tell him now.
“Look, Chris,” she said, “I like you.”
“Well, I hoped that was obvious,” he said with another slight chuckle, eyeing her naked form. She smiled but was compelled to continue all the same.
“But, if we’re going to do this,” she said, “if we’re going to be together . . . I meant what I said about the drinking.”
His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. He was clearly listening to her carefully.
“And not just for me either,” she continued. “If we’re going to be together, you can’t go out drinking every night. You can’t get arrested again. I went through all that with my mom and I’m not doing it again with you.”
He looked at her intently for several moments as though he was making a very difficult decision. For one horrible moment, she thought he was going to shake his head and tell her he couldn’t do that.
She steeled herself to get out of his bed, get dressed and never look back. But, a second later, he nodded his head yes.
“I can scale it back,” he said. “No more partying during the week. My friends might not be thrilled, but they can deal with it.”
“Ok,” Michelle said smiling. She turned and snuggled back into him. “In that case, I guess I can stay.”
The last thing she felt before she fell asleep that night was his strong arms folding around her and pulling her into his chest. She smiled at the thought of falling asleep in this man’s arms and tried to push away the thought that he might not be able to change his ways so easily.
*****
Chris woke up next to an angel. At least, that was what she looked like to him.
Even though Michelle’s long, brown hair was impossibly tangled and there was no makeup to hide the pores and little flaws on her face; she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He still couldn’t quite believe that, for the past two months, he had been lucky enough to wake up to this woman in his bed at least once a week.
Giving up all the bars and clubs had been worth it. Limiting his drinking to one or two glasses of wine on Saturday had kept this wonderful, beautiful woman in his life. And that was worth more than any party he had ever been to.
He smiled sleepily at her and turned to look at the clock on his bed stand, seven thirty. He didn’t have his appointment with the team trainer until ten.
Gratefully, he moved back into bed and curled around her. He knew he really should get to the stadium early. He was on thin ice with the team as it was.
Two losing seasons combined with the DUI he had obtained in March brought rumors of a replacement. And he knew that if he was replaced, other teams were going to be reluctant to pick him up.
Not to mention that if he moved, he would have to leave Michelle. The idea of that happening was worse than the loss of his income, his home or even the game h
e loved.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. It was as though he was trying to hold her there. He was trying, as best he could, to keep her as long as possible.
He wasn’t quite sure if this was love. But if it wasn’t, then it was the closest thing he had ever felt to it.
He heard Michelle moan sleepily and absently she moved her body against him. He felt his member beginning to grow beneath the sheets as it pressed into her backside.
Gently, he pushed her tangled mess of hair away from her neck. Then, slowly, he placed gentle kisses along the path that lead to her collar bone.
“Hmm,” she moaned before turning to him with a smile, her eyes still blinking open.
“Morning,” he whispered.
“Good morning yourself,” she said groggily.
He pressed his lips to hers briefly before resuming his path down her neck.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” she asked with an amused chuckle that turned into a gasp as he turned his mouth to suckle her breast. He could feel her nipple becoming erect beneath his tongue and he smiled.
“You don’t seem to be complaining,” he answered her. She gave him a smile in return and moved her hands between his thighs to stroke his growing member.
This time, it was his turn to moan.
“I’m used to it,” she answered still stroking him with a cocky smile. He could feel a desperate pressure beginning to build as she moved her hands slowly up and down his shaft.
He closed his eyes, delighting in the feel of her small fingers surrounding his naked flesh. They flew open again at the sound of his phone ringing.
He glanced over at his phone and barely made out the name. It was Harry, his agent.
“It’s not even eight o’clock,” Michelle said gently. “It can wait.”
When her hand palmed his shaft once again, he was inclined to agree with her. He threw his head back, closed his eyes and pushed the thought of his agent's call out of his mind.
That’s when he heard the beep. Then another. Then another.
He knew that it was Harry texting him. And when Harry texted, the news was never good.
Reluctantly, Chris put his hand over Michelle’s to stop her progress.
Endless Abduction Page 128
