CaddyGirls

by V. K. Sykes

  “We don’t have to do this right now, Torrey. You can think about it overnight, and we can talk again at breakfast.”

  When she searched his eyes, she found nothing there but sympathetic curiosity. “No, I want to tell you now. I’ll die if I have to stew about this all night.”

  Julian called the server over to refill both their glasses.

  “All right,” she said with grim determination. “You want to know what happened? Hell happened, that’s what. But I should start at the beginning.” She paused a few seconds, searching for the right words. “I had it really good for a long time—good health, a God-given talent and a scholarship to a good university. When I started winning tournaments in college, everyone said I was a lock to make it to the pros. Talk about having the world by the tail.”

  “It was good to be you back then,” Julian said in a quiet voice.

  “For sure. I had all those gifts, but the best thing about my life—absolutely the best thing—was that I had the greatest father anyone could ever have. I mean that. Dad raised me as a single parent after Mom died.” She stumbled for a moment, the memory still raw after so many years. “I was only seven when we lost her to ovarian cancer.”

  “God, Torrey, I’m sorry.” Julian looked a little stunned.

  “I don’t have any words to describe how close Dad and I became after that. He was my only parent. I was his only child. We didn’t have many other relatives. But we had golf.”

  Julian waited patiently as she paused, trying to organize her jumbled thoughts.

  “Dad taught me to play. He cut down a set of clubs for me and had me hitting balls at four years old.”

  “Sounds a little like Tiger and Earl Woods,” Julian said.

  Torrey shook her head. “Maybe, but with one big difference—in addition to the fact that I don’t hit the ball like Tiger, of course.” She managed a small chuckle and saw the flat line of Julian’s mouth curl in response. “Mr. Woods wasn’t a pro golfer. My dad was.”

  “So you had a full-time teacher.”

  “The best. But you wouldn’t believe how hard he worked me. We played all the time—weekends, vacations, after school. Whenever he wasn’t at work and I didn’t have school, we’d be on the course. And all the work paid off. I got the full athletic scholarship to UNLV, and I did incredibly well. You read about all that.”

  Julian nodded, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “The summer after my junior year, Dad and I were playing a round at Snake Canyon, his home course. We knew the forecast had called for thunderstorms late afternoon, and we were trying to finish the round before they hit. On the seventeenth hole, the blackest clouds I’d ever seen rolled in from the east. Then lightning flashed, and the sky rumbled. Dad was over near the trees, and I was all the way on the other side of the fairway, close to the cart path. I picked up my ball and ran for the cart and jumped in. I put the pedal to the floor and started across the fairway to pick up dad. He was walking toward me when…”

  That familiar vise gripped her chest again. She closed her eyes as the images of that horrible afternoon tumbled through her brain. Torrey prayed she could hold it together long enough to finish the story.

  “He was hit by lightning?” Julian’s voice was sympathetic but matter-of-fact. It was exactly the tone she needed to pull her back from the brink of a humiliating and very public meltdown.

  “Thirty feet in front of my eyes. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1, but he was gone before the paramedics arrived. He never regained consciousness.”

  “God in heaven,” he said, looking shaken. “Now I understand why the lightning terrified you.”

  “It scares me enough when I’m inside. But if I’m outside, I go out of my mind. I watch the forecast every day and try never to be anywhere I might be caught outdoors in a storm.”

  “I’m sorry,” Julian said, covering her hand with his. “To lose both parents before you were twenty years old is unbelievably tragic. You must have been angry—with God, with the world, with everybody and everything.”

  Torrey looked down at Julian’s strong hand—warming her, sending strength and calm into her body. There was a surprising amount of tenderness in his touch. For just a moment, she allowed herself to believe there was something more between them than there really was.

  “I was. But mostly I just felt lost. I didn’t feel like going on. I tried school that fall but gave up after two weeks. And I couldn’t even look at my clubs, much less be a functioning member of the golf team. Dad had a small insurance policy, and I was able to live on that for a while until I really started to go south. It wasn’t long before I hit rock bottom.” She swallowed hard, pushing back the ugly memories of those dark days. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not go into the gory details.”

  Julian nodded sympathetically. “Not necessary. What’s important is that you fought back.”

  After a few moments of silent shock at his easy acceptance of her past, Torrey managed to continue.

  “Yes, mostly thanks to my Aunt Kate.” She thought of how much she owed her father’s sister. “She lives in New Jersey. When Dad died, Aunt Kate flew out here right away and tried to help me, but I pushed her away. I thought I didn’t need anyone. I just wanted to be left alone with my depression. But then I did a lot of stupid things and ran through the rest of the money. One of my friends from the golf team, Cherie Summers, remembered Aunt Kate and called her. She flew out the next day and read me the Riot Act, as only she can.”

  She still cringed whenever she remembered the tongue-lashing she’d endured that day. But she’d deserved it. And then some. She could think about it now and smile because she knew that her aunt’s tough love, and her undying support ever since, had literally saved her.

  “She sounds like quite a woman,” Julian said, playing with her fingers. If he kept that up, she would soon melt into a gooey puddle at his feet.

  “You’d like her. I think you two have a lot in common.”

  “I haven’t read you the Riot Act.” He smiled. “Not yet, anyway.”

  His words and smile sent soothing warmth cascading through her veins. The thought that Julian might someday care about her enough to lay down the law felt decidedly appealing at that moment.

  “What happened next?”

  “Well, Aunt Kate cleaned me up, got me a new place to live, and dragged me to a psychologist. I didn’t want to go, but it turned out to make all the difference. I hate to think where I’d have ended up without Aunt Kate and Dr. Arthurs. My two guardian angels. Anyway, I got my life back together, got a job, and then a second job. And I started playing again. Playing really well. Eventually I was able to stop seeing my father lying there every time I walked onto a golf course.”

  “Good for you,” Julian said, his voice warm with admiration. “It took incredible courage and strength to fight back from loss and depression like you did. And it took a lot of guts to tell your story to a virtual stranger.”

  It startled her to hear him refer to himself that way. He felt far from a stranger.

  “You’re not a stranger to me anymore, Julian,” she said. “Telling you turned out to be easier than I thought it would be.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You deserved to know. Look, with my background I know I’m not exactly a poster girl for a corporate sponsorship program. So I’ll understand if you guys don’t want to take a chance on me.” But I really hope you will.

  “I don’t know,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “It sounds to me like you should be a poster girl for something. Maybe courage in overcoming tough odds. Yeah, that’s something our company can get behind.”

  She gave him what she hoped was a confident smile, even though she had a sneaking suspicion she looked anything but.

  “We’ll have to see how much your game has progressed,” he said. “But so far so good.”

  Torrey blew out a tight breath. “Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.” A sudden wave of fatigue washed over h
er. The difficult discussion was over and she knew where she stood, but the effort of telling him had knocked her sideways.

  “Julian, I’m sorry, but suddenly I’m feeling very tired. I think I should head home now.”

  His brow creased into a concerned frown. “I’m not sure you should be driving if you’re that tired.”

  She gazed into his eyes and saw the same sensual heat she had seen last night. She felt an answering tingle, savoring the knowledge that she now had no reason to run away from him. Except for her exhaustion, that is. But she just might be able to muster up a second wind.

  “Well, what are my options then?”

  “The parking here is free, and I have a hell of a penthouse suite. I’m sure you’d like it. I’ll even throw in a free toothbrush,” he said, a sexy smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “You can drive home in the morning.”

  She laughed. A woman would have to be stone dead to resist his brand of charm. “My own toothbrush? How could I say no to an offer like that?”

  Chapter 7

  Julian slid his key card in the slot and pushed the button for the thirty-fourth floor. The other couple in the elevator glanced at them, the woman giving them a knowing smile as Julian slid his arm around Torrey’s waist and held her close. It must have looked as if he’d snagged a dealer off the casino floor.

  The couple bid them good-night as they got off at the ninth floor. As soon as the doors silently closed, Julian turned Torrey so she faced him. Her eyes sparked with a sleepy, enticing desire. He pulled her close and kissed her—gently at first, then as he felt her body relax into him, soft and warm in his arms, he let loose the passion that had been simmering between them since they’d met. Torrey parted her lips to his probing tongue, welcoming him into the moist heat of her mouth. Languidly draping her arms around his neck, she breathed a sweet moan as he cupped her ass and pressed her against his straining erection. For a brief moment Julian considered spinning her around and bending her forward against the brass rail trim of the elevator, her black skirt up around her waist, her panties at her ankles as he sank his cock deep into her slick flesh.

  The quiet ping of the elevator interrupted his fantasy. He broke the kiss. Neither of them spoke because nothing needed saying. They wanted exactly the same thing, and no barriers stood in their way.

  Julian pushed open the door to the suite, holding it as Torrey eased by him. Her heels clicked on the marble floor of the foyer before coming to a halt at the edge of the plush carpet. Then she moved ahead a few more feet, her eyes taking in the vast expanse of the expensively decorated living and dining room. Stepping up, he grasped her waist and pulled her tight against him.

  She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he slipped his hands inside her jacket and reached for her breasts. “Nice room,” she whispered, melting against him.

  * * *

  Good God, what a palace.

  Even as Julian’s hands began roaming her body, Torrey couldn’t help scanning the spacious suite. Two white leather sofas with matching armchairs surrounded a circular coffee table that looked like pink marble. A jumbo flat screen TV with home theater system hung on the wall opposite one of the sofas. Further to her left, she noticed a polished wood dining room set that sat at least ten, maybe twelve, people. Her entire apartment would probably fit into just the dining area.

  “This is incredible, Julian,” she whispered.

  His only reply was to lick her ear while his hands gently cupped her breasts. Her nipples, already hard, ached with pleasure as he fingered them through her cotton shirt.

  “There’s white wine in the fridge and red in the cabinet. Want some?” He murmured the question as he trailed a string of kisses down the side of her neck, tracing a path of liquid fire.

  Torrey turned in his embrace, then pushed his jacket from his shoulders. “All I want is you,” she said in a voice so breathy she sounded like Marilyn Monroe on tranquilizers.

  Fortunately Julian didn’t seem to notice, instead claiming her mouth again as he shrugged the expensive linen blazer onto the floor. In an instant he had her short jacket off and had deftly loosened her bow tie. Deepening the kiss, he whipped off her tie and began yanking at the buttons of her shirt. Torrey felt them come free, one by one from the top, and then his skillful hands rediscovered her breasts. Shivery tingles zinged through her body as he slipped a finger under the fabric of her bra and found a stiff nipple. She released her grip on his shirt and reached under his hands to unhook the front-clasp bra. Her breasts spilled out as the bra opened and fell to the side.

  Torrey undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and smoothed her hands across the vault of his chest, relishing the feel of his rock-hard muscles under her fingertips. Julian stilled at her touch, gazing at her breasts with a dark and hungry expression. Then he cupped her, teasing one nipple with a lightly rasping touch before bending to take it right in his mouth. She gasped as his tongue circled and played, laving her sensitive flesh until the nipple beaded with a delicious ache. The feel of his hot mouth pulling on her, the sight of his dark head at her breast, drained the strength from her legs.

  She clutched at his broad shoulders, wondering how long she’d be able to stay upright. Her body softened, dampness flooding her panties, making her ready right now. He filled her senses. The clean, male scent of him washed over her, and his clever fingers teased her breasts until she thought she might come before they even did anything else.

  Desperate for more, she slid her fingers into his soft hair, gently tugging on the ends of the thick locks, urging him up. Their lips met in a moist, open-mouthed kiss. Torrey reached down, seeking the erection that lay rigid and heavy against her belly. She caressed the full length of it, bottom to top, exploring the contours of the thick shaft through the multiple layers of fabric that kept them apart. But not for long. Soon he would be in her hands, in her mouth—deep inside her. She couldn’t wait.

  Julian muttered a frustrated curse under his breath and groped for her skirt zipper. Awkwardly, she struggled out of her shirt and bra and dropped them to the floor. He released her for just an instant but his heated gaze remained fixed on her body. She tugged off her skirt while he kicked off his shoes and yanked off his pants and shirt.

  Torrey had to repress a ridiculous urge to lick her lips as she took him all in. Long, lean and deeply tanned, Julian had the physique of an athlete—strong and toned but not over-muscled or coarse. Although she did manage not to lick her lips, she couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure as she let her gaze drift over his broad shoulders, hard pecs and well-defined abs, the taut flesh of his stomach bisected by a line of dark hair from his chest to the top of his briefs. Unable to resist, she laid her hand along that tempting line and traced her fingers down to his abdomen.

  The muscles—hot and hard under his smooth skin—flexed beneath her hand, startling her. Hesitating, she glanced up. His heavy-lidded gaze met hers. The hunger in those dark eyes set butterflies pinwheeling in her stomach.

  “Jesus, Torrey,” he rasped, covering her hand. “Don’t stop there.”

  She let him guide her hand down to his cock, slipping her fingers under his waistband to gently grasp the big, silken head. His shaft pulsed against her palm, compelling her to slide her fingers down to its thick base. The rumble deep in his throat told her she was doing it just right. Boldly, she reached under to cup his balls, biting her lip as she felt them grow full and tight under her fingers. Julian was a big man. He would stretch her, fill her, and the image of that made her grow impossibly soft and wet.

  “That’s enough,” he growled, pulling her hand away and sweeping her up in his arms. His warmth enveloped her. She breathed in the faint, spicy tang of his aftershave, subtly entwined with the rising scent of their desire.

  As he strode across the room she tried to choke back a laugh, failing miserably.

  “What so funny?” he asked as he laid her down on one of the leather sofas. He sounded faintly annoyed, but his eyes glittered with a ruefu
l amusement.

  “I feel like I’m in some crazy chick flick, and you’re the dashing hero come to sweep me off my feet,” she admitted.

  He grinned. “You mean rich men aren’t carrying you off in their stretch Hummers on a regular basis?” he asked, stepping out of his briefs. Torrey’s mind went blank for a moment as she took in the size of his impressive package.

  “Well, not lately, anyway.”

  As comebacks went that was pretty lame, but Julian was so gorgeous it stole her breath. The guy was probably used to bedding supermodels, not some down-on-her-luck caddy that had to work two jobs just to make ends meet.

  If Julian noticed her clumsy response, he didn’t show it.

  “Then I’m the lucky one,” he murmured as he eased her panties down over her hips and legs. He paused, one hand lightly clasping her thigh, his gaze focused on the nest of curls between her legs. “And I’m keeping you all to myself.”

  The hunger in his voice sent a zing of electricity rocketing along her nerves—and restored her self-confidence. Torrey leaned back against the pillows, draping her arms above her head in a pose that pulled her full breasts taut. She let her legs fall open, relishing the way that move made his eyes grow dark with lust.

  Julian moved quickly, coming down between her legs and pushing her into the soft leather sofa. Propping himself up on his elbows, he took her mouth in a ravening kiss. She opened for him, and they tangled in a sensual battle for control. As their mouths played, so did his hands, tweaking her nipples until they were as hard as little pebbles. Torrey shivered, rubbing her breasts against his brawny chest, desperate to feed the ache in her nipples that drove her mad with pleasure. God, she wanted him inside her, but she wanted this too. The slow tease, the building spiral, seeming to take forever to release. It had been months since she felt this—years, even. And with Julian every sensation seemed so much more intense.