by Alexis Anne
But I didn’t say any of that. “She eats pork tacos on Tuesdays, numbnuts.”
“Oh yeah . . . ”
And again the slightest glimmer of hope hit me in the chest. If Jeffry couldn’t see past his own nerves to what Esme enjoyed eating, but I knew without a second thought, then perhaps this crush of his wouldn’t last very long.
Maybe.
“Offenheimers is an excellent idea regardless. What will you wear?”
Jeffry looked down at his usual uniform of jeans and an ironic t-shirt. “Uh . . . a clean shirt?”
Hopeless. “Have you noticed that Esme is quite stylish? She has that retro, red lips, high heels vibe.”
“She’s hot. Yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t think perhaps you should try a little harder?”
He frowned. “No. I’m me, not you.”
Thank goodness for that. “Perhaps you’re right.” Normally I advised against dressing or behaving differently on a first date since it set up false expectations and started a shaky relationship on an even more delicate foot. It made it seem as if one was lying about who they were.
But in Jeffry’s case I think I was simply trying to make Esme happy. Or perhaps I wanted Jeffry to be me. Either way, it was wrong of me.
“I’m thinking I’ll try for a goodnight kiss but not more. I feel like anything more would be way too soon and anything less would give her the idea I don’t want this, ya know?”
“A dinner and a kiss will tell you a lot about each other. I think this is wise data collection.” Perhaps a bit careful, but definitely wise.
“If our kiss is half as crazy as I feel just sitting near her . . . ”
Every muscle in my body locked up tight and I had the distinct urge to crack my neck. I liked Jeffry but when he said things like that I wanted to knock him into the next office and storm off with Esme over my shoulder like some sort of caveman claiming a woman.
That was the most important reason to help Jeffry. I might want to storm back to my cave to do wicked things to Esme, but I most certainly didn’t want to keep her there.
And that wasn’t right. She deserved Jeffry. Jeffry would keep her there and treat her right while I would . . . what? I didn’t know the answer to that. All I knew was that my attraction to Esme had everything to do with her moans and her soft little pants for more. Her supple skin and the way she looked at me like I was the one and only person who could take her pain away.
“Are you all right?” Jeffry asked.
I snapped from my thoughts to my friend, realizing all too late that I’d let my brain wander down Sex Alley again and my cock was as hard as a rod.
“Fine. Just remembered something from work and got a little lost in my head.”
“Your work stresses me out and I don’t even work here.”
“Truth.” I took a few breaths and willed my dick to return to normal workday order. “Thank you for lunch,” I waved at the takeout from Cheeseburger Hut, “but work calls.”
“Fine, fine.” He gathered up his trash. “Thanks for talking me through this. Again.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m happy to help. I put together a list of topics you might want to memorize for dinner.” I handed him the sheet of paper with my chicken scratch.
Jeffry handled it like it was an ancient relic. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
And the stupidest. Because truth be told I wasn’t doing any of this for my best friend. I was doing it all for Esme.
And I didn’t know why.
Perks of the job, I usually had seats at any game I wished. Today I was at Sunshine Stadium for the Mantas game. Right behind home plate. I knew all the players even though I only managed left fielder Seth Butler. Our agency also managed the catcher, second baseman, two of the pitchers, and four other men on the roster, not normally in starting positions.
“What is that smell?” my non-date asked, wrinkling her nose.
I sniffed the air, finding nothing unusual. Just the familiar scent of a baseball stadium. Beer, hotdogs, popcorn, cotton candy, and clay.
“I believe it’s popcorn you are smelling.” I really didn’t know what Claudia had a problem with.
And I didn’t particularly care.
Claudia and Seth had come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement in which she would come to games dressed like the model-turned-movie star she was, as long as his homerun streak lasted. She got good press, he got airtime, I got to spend my evenings with a woman I wouldn’t get to fuck.
Everyone won but me.
Not that Claudia was my type. I mean yes, if she came to me asking for a night I’d give it to her without question. If she let down her insecurities for long enough to be vulnerable in my bed I’d give her the night of her life, but she wasn’t here for that. Which meant she was just another celebrity looking for attention and I was bored.
I hadn’t had a date in months.
Months.
My balls were turning to stone and my dick was dying right along with it. My hand was a sad stand-in for the warmth of a real woman.
“Popcorn? Ugh. I can’t believe people actually eat that stuff,” Claudia snorted, pulling me out of my head.
I needed a date. I pulled out my phone and flipped through the recent messages but found that not one of my friends knew anyone in need of my special services. I’d struck out at the bar last night too. Maybe I’d try again tonight. A Friday evening game like this guaranteed there’d be some action at one of Rusty’s two locations.
After delivering Claudia into Seth’s eager hands after the game I made a stop at the offices, surprised to find Marie there.
“It’s a little late for you, isn’t it?”
She shrugged from behind her desk. Aside from a lamp in the corner, her computer was the only other light in the room. “This Renegades situation is making my life hell.”
“Is there something new?” I dropped into a chair and propped my feet up on her desk.
She shot me a look but didn’t ask me to remove my feet. “There’s some salary renegotiations. Brown’s not threatening anyone yet but he’s being a dick about ‘being team players with the salary cap’. Dunhill is pitching a fit so I’m spending a lot of time keeping him calm.”
“And going over every line of his contract?” Marie was meticulous like that.
She pushed away from the desk and leaned back in her plush seat. “I want to be sure I know everything so when Brown throws his curveball—and he will—I’m ready.”
“You’re so sure about this guy?” Since the sale of the team I’d done my own research but found the information on the thin side. The Brown family liked to keep out of the spotlight. Aside from their illustrious leader, Edmund, there was a son and daughter, as Marie mentioned. The son was very involved in the Brown family businesses, while the daughter was rarely mentioned at all. I practically had to track down Roselyn Esmeralda Zalenski Brown’s birth certificate.
“As sure as I live and breathe. He’s corrupt down to his DNA.”
“His son is the same?”
Her head cocked to the side a little. “Why do you ask? Will Edmund kick the bucket soon?”
“I have no idea what his health is like. I’m just trying to understand all the players in the game you seem to have such a handle on.” I had the impression this was more than a little old family experience.
It felt more like an old family blood feud.
“William is . . . complicated. If the franchise were in his hands instead of his father’s, I honestly don’t know what he’d do. As of right now he’s a Yes Man. He does what Edmund wants and seems happy to do so. But the guy I grew up with was better than that. I guess I hold out hope he’s better than his father.”
“We all hold out hope we’re better than our parents.”
The corner of Marie’s lips curved up in a smirk. “Very true. How was Butler?”
“The Mantas won and he should be having celebratory drinks at some posh club with Claudia by n
ow.”
“And what about you?”
I glanced at my watch. “After I email a file over to the Waves I’m headed to Rusty’s.”
“Have fun.” She turned back to her computer. “Son of a bitch.”
Well that didn’t sound good. “Something in his contract?”
“No. Worse. We’re invited to the Brown’s for a dinner party.”
Chapter 6
After a lot of swearing and pacing Marie and I came up with a plan to address the unexpected invitation into the den of the wolves.
That was what Marie called it.
The den of the wolves.
I really wish she’d just lay it all out on the table for me. She was trusting me with information but not all the information and that always made me feel insane.
Regardless, we decided it would be poor form and not a good move for our athletes if we turned it down. The invite was for all of Bancroft Sports but we were going to keep it to upper management and the agents with the corner offices, so to speak. In short, the people Marie trusted most.
The party was in eight days.
Between the game and the dramatics that accompanied the invitation, I needed a night out more than ever. So as planned, I’d made my way over to Rusty’s, planted myself at the bar, and was surveying potential options over a glass of Blanton’s.
There were some very nice options to be had.
The leggy blonde wearing a glittering minidress was my favorite at the moment. She glanced my way as soon as I sat. Glanced in that interested, flirtatious way. So even though I was also checking out the brunette laughing with her giggling troupe of friends, and the redhead looking rather bored with her twosome, my gaze kept coming back to lady number one.
And sure enough her glance kept coming back to me.
My blood heated for the first time in ages, flooded with adrenaline and hormones, making me feel alive again. It was as if I’d been asleep since Esme, sleepwalking through life. No woman could compare so why bother?
Except Esme was now, firmly, no longer an option.
I’d not have her hips in my hands again. There would be no licking of her delicate neck as I made my way to nibble her earlobe, all while I pumped my cock inside her. She would not moan my name again.
I shot the rest of the Blanton’s and went to the blonde.
“Your legs are my favorite part of the night so far. I hope you don’t mind that I ogled them.” I always found it was best to be blunt but not crass. If the woman recoiled at a comment like that then she was not the kind of woman to go home with a stranger anyway, so best to figure that out right from the jump.
The blonde smiled. “That’s why I’m wearing a skirt. If I didn’t want them ogled I’d wear black pants.”
I highly doubted that would mask the unmistakable line of muscle.
I stuck out my hand. “Leo. Agent.” It was customary to identify who you were at Rusty’s. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Hope. Family. And yes.”
I waved the bartender over and ordered us both a refill. “Whose family?” Rusty’s was a safe haven for athletes, agents, and reporters to mingle in a social environment without the pressures. What happened at Rusty’s stayed at Rusty’s. No deals were made here. Everything was strictly off the record. Anyone who broke the code was banned for life—and frequently blackballed outside the restaurant as well.
Family members of all the above also frequented the restaurant because it was safe. They didn’t live the life but they lived amongst it and sometimes the secrets they held made them live bait for reporters. They enjoyed having a space to freely socialize as much as the rest of us.
She nibbled her lower lip. “Brian Thomas is my ex.”
Brian was one of the most famous sports anchors in news today. “Divorced?”
She took the drink from the bartender and sipped. “Separated for the last year. Divorce official as of yesterday.”
Definitely available. Especially since everyone knew that Brian was currently living with his girlfriend of the last two years, supermodel Lilith Jane.
I held up my fresh glass of bourbon. “Congratulations on the signed papers.”
She clinked the tip of her drink to mine. “Thank you. And you? Is there anyone at home?”
“No one at all.” But for some reason I could not fathom, my mind conjured up the image of Esme in my bed, tangled up in white sheets, her dark hair spilling over her naked breasts, smiling up at me as I came in for the night.
What the fuck was that?
“You sure about that?” Hope laughed.
“I’m sure.”
“Someone you wish was waiting for you, then?”
Women were freakishly perceptive creatures and I knew from years of experience that to head this off I needed to be brutally honest. “I shagged a gorgeous woman thinking there was no chance I’d ever see her again. Turns out my best friend has been trying to ask her out for ages.”
“So you’re quietly sitting on the sidelines.”
In a manner of speaking. “Sure.”
She laughed again. “And not enjoying it.”
“No sense in waiting around for something you can’t have. And make no mistake about it, this is pure male stupidity. I wanted her again and when I couldn’t have her, I wanted her more. It’s not romantic.”
“I can appreciate that. I like you, Leo. You’re honest and honesty is a rare quality these days.”
And I liked the easy way about Hope. “Why are you in Tampa?”
“I decided to get some distance from Brian and Lilith. I came home.”
So this was her stomping ground. “And how are you liking the city?”
“It’s changed but still fundamentally the same town I grew up in. I think I’ll stick around. Can I be blunt, Leo?”
God how I loved when women were blunt. “Please.”
“You’re nice, you’re honest, you’re sexy, and I came here in this dress to get laid. Can we cut the shit?”
My dick stirred. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”
“I want you in that bathroom right now.”
I shot the last bit of my drink. “I’ve fucked five other women in that bathroom.” All like Hope, but not at all like Hope. She was different. Fun. I could see us getting some relief and coming right back here to chat some more.
“Then it’s a good spot. I was hoping it was a good spot.” She said that second line more under her breath.
Some women needed a night. An entire night of wining and dining, conversation and romance. They needed attention. I gave it to them freely. But other women just needed a no-strings-attached, no-regrets, fuck for fun.
I was happy to give those too.
So after another round of drinks were ordered I whisked her off to the row of private bathroom stalls at the back of Rusty’s Bistro, selected the one on the end, and locked the door.
Everything at Rusty’s was clean and polished. Oh sure it was a bathroom, but you felt more like you were in someone’s home than a busy restaurant. There were even condoms on the counter.
Rusty believed firmly in safe sex and he wasn’t oblivious to the idea that people came here for the safety he provided. That meant people occasionally fucked in his bathrooms.
“Leave the heels on. Don’t move.”
Hope froze where she was, bum barely brushing the edge of the clean counter, back to the mirror. I moved her hair over one shoulder and kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder. She was soft. Smelled like peaches and cream. For some reason I expected her to smell like peaches and cream.
Not like Esme. No, she smelled dark and musky.
Hope sighed. This was a woman wound tight. Her release would be easy and quite frankly, a needed service. I moved with practiced skill. On automatic. My lips teased her sensitive zones behind her ear as my hand slid between her legs to determine her level of arousal.
Wet and warm but not swollen and ready for me.
I followed a roa
dmap my mind knew all to well, like sleep driving to work in the morning because your muscles know the route even though your mind was still asleep.
The reality was that I wasn’t really in that bathroom with Hope, giving a woman pleasure because that was what she needed more than anything else. I was instead dreaming of Esme, remembering the way her body responded to my touch, remembering the way my body responded to her existence.
Yes my cock was hard. I was touching a beautiful woman who had greenlit me verbally and enthusiastically for sex. But it was nothing compared to what my body had done with Esme—I wasn’t just hard for her, I was steel. A seemingly endless state of arousal, all so I could please her in any way she wished. With Esme my blood didn’t simply pump south to lengthen my dick long enough for an orgasm. For Esme my entire bloodstream seemed to have rerouted permanently. Desperate to come into sync with hers. Driven solely by the need to worship her.
I stripped down the top of Hope’s dress and lavished her breasts. I pushed her skirt up around her hips and freed my cock. She rolled the condom down my length with practiced ease, a twinkling smile in her eyes.
“This is fun,” she giggled, then gasped, as I tore into her.
Hope wasn’t looking for a night of forgetting. She wanted a fuck and nothing else. A quick orgasm to resettle her world. No commands. No hands held. No hours of teasing.
I hadn’t realized until the moment her lips clamped shut to muffle her cries that this wouldn’t resettle my world at all. It would barely register as a blip on my radar. I was too thrown off my axis and the only way to right it was with the kind of all consuming, mind altering, endless stimulation I’d had that night with Esme.
Hope’s body went rigid as her orgasm reached its climax, so I began pumping furiously, thrusting fast but not too hard or deep, finding just enough of what I needed to reach my own orgasm.
It was satisfying in the way a hot chocolate is satisfying on a cool night. It was pleasant and lovely. Nice.
I held Hope against me as we found our breath, dragging my lips up and down the side of her neck to soothe and comfort her. Then I withdrew and got rid of the condom while she straightened her dress.
