Kinky Resolutions and Other New Year's Disasters: A Standalone Romantic Comedy

by Frankie Love

  1) Just tell her the truth–which I don’t want to do because that would mean this secret... this exploration ... would no longer be my own. Inviting Bridget into this would mean having her weigh in on all of it. Judge all of it.

  2) He would say we should cancel the list–that it’s causing me too many problems, has become too big a distraction. If he knew I was making a mess of graduate school I know he’d back away, not wanting my failing grades on his shoulder. Not when this was just supposed to be fun.

  So, what am I supposed to say?

  It’s not like Cooper should need to be my support system anyways. He knows a lot about me, sure, but we’ve also been neighbors for three years. My neighbor who happens to be very good at sex. He isn’t my boyfriend and he certainly has never offered to be anything besides a handful of kinky one-night stands. Which is what I wanted, that was the entire point of this list. Him being my guru.

  And even if I momentarily thought I read him wrong... that maybe he really wants more with me too; he hasn’t contacted me once since he left for Spring Training. He hasn’t tried to text or chat or give me any indication this means anything more than just a crazy experience.

  “Gracie.” Cooper’s eyes narrow. “You there?”

  “I’m here. Sorry. Tell me about spring training. Are you training... hard?” Suddenly all I can hear are Bridget’s words in my ear ... Don’t call me unless you want to be an actual friend instead of this self-obsessed-whatever ...

  The truth is I haven’t spent any time thinking about what Cooper is doing in Tampa. All I’ve thought about since he left is what I’m getting from him when I see him next.

  My stomach flip-flops at this realization. Not only am I self-obsessed when it comes to Bridget, but when it comes to Cooper, too.

  No wonder he only sees this as a neighborly hook-up. I’m not a good friend, let alone something more.

  I take a deep breath. When you know better, you can do better.

  “Cooper,” I say, really looking at him for the first time in this call. His freckles are there, sure, but I also see that his eyes look tired, his face weary. And I thought it was just because he was concerned about me, but maybe it is more than that. “Are you okay?”

  He exhales, running his hand over his jaw that I’ve always thought was masculine and sexy but maybe it is also an indication that he is tired, worn out. “I don’t know, Grace. It’s been a long month.”

  “Wanna tell me about it?”

  He smirks. “You won’t tell me what’s bothering you but you want me to open up?”

  I shrug. “Not if you don’t want to.” I take a deep breath, realizing I do want Cooper to open to me. Kind of a lot. Because the truth is, I’ve been reading about all these alpha males in these romance books all month, and even the ones who are all badass, chasing pussy and the mafia and disregarding the law–deep down they all have a soft side.

  And I’m not saying Cooper is some motorcycle gang member in his past life, but I do know he has a reputation for being a manwhore. I mean, I’ve witnessed that with my own two eyes.

  But I’d like to see the other side of him too... the part I have glimpsed more than once. When he fixed my leaky sink, and wrapped his coat around my bare shoulders and remembered to call tonight.

  “Actually,” I tell him. “Tell me even if you don’t want to. I bet you’re pretty stressed out.”

  I may be selfish, but I also understand the basics of baseball. Cooper will be a free agent at the end of the season, which means if the next several months go well, it will define his career path. If it is less than stellar, he won’t get the contract offers he’s hoping for.

  Cooper shakes his head. “It’s been insane. I know I shouldn’t complain, there are thousands of guys who would die to be in my spot, but damn, the team has got to come together to make this season special. And sometimes it feels like a lot of fucking pressure.”

  I’ve never heard Cooper talk so honestly, usually, he’s all innuendos and pick-up lines, smooth and confident. And now he sounds defeated.

  “Hey, the season hasn’t even started. I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

  “I don’t know. You think I sound bad, Gabe is a fucking pussy––”

  I cut him off. “Don’t say it like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like being a pussy is a bad thing. Pussies are great things. As you well know.”

  He laughs as though he’s embarrassed. “My bad. Here I am talking to a smart-ass woman who’s getting a degree in women’s studies and I’m degrading them. You must think I’m a fucking idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot. And I bet you spend a lot of time in a locker room saying and hearing things way worse than that.” I smile, my shoulders relaxing, and genuinely not judging him.

  “You would hate it in the locker room, Gracie. A girl like you... you’d lose all respect for mankind.” Cooper’s face seems to relax too, and he moves the laptop back on the bed, stretching out his legs. When he moves, I see his arms flex, the cotton tee shirt stretching across his chest.

  “I don’t think I’d mind the locker room too much,” I admit, thinking about all the men on the team naked, showering... but quickly passing them over and letting my eyes rest on Cooper. On his firm ass and rock hard chest. On his cock that made my pussy tighten... the cock I’ve been imagining inside of me every night since we had sex in the alley.

  “Oh yeah?” Cooper asks. “You wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the sight of twenty bare-assed men?”

  I shake my head, laughing, my body warming up as I think about the only man I want to see naked.

  “I think I’d like to be there, Cooper. All those guys watching as ....”

  Our conversation stops... our screens seem to freeze. But they haven’t, it’s just Cooper and I both seem to have realized where this conversation got us in just ten minutes.

  Exactly where we’d planned on going all along

  “You wanna do this, Gracie?” Cooper asks his voice raw, his eyes filled with lust.

  “I do.”

  “You want to watch me get off?” he asks, his jaw clenching as he finishes his words.

  I nod, swallowing. “I’ve been practicing all month so I’d be ready.”

  “You swear to God?” he asks, laughing softly. “You’ve been practicing for me?”

  “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  “Classic Gracie, not doing anything half-assed.”

  I explain how I missed the teenage milestone of perfecting a personal orgasm, and how I’ve been giving myself a crash course for the past four weeks.

  “Gracie, that’s so fucking hot.” I watch as Cooper adjusts himself in his sweat pants, and there’s a bulge there that wasn’t before. He’s hard for me.

  Feeling more confident, I lift the hem of my tee shirt, wishing I’d had the time to change into the lacy lingerie. Because under my shirt, I’m rocking a gray sports bra. Not exactly take me now.

  Still, I pull off the shirt and watch as Cooper does the same.

  His chest is even more chiseled than it was a month ago. Spring training is no joke.

  “Show me your tits,” Cooper tells me, his eyes hooded, his words smoky and deep and for me. He wants to see me. “Let me see your nipples, let me see how hard they are.”

  I do as he says, he’s my teacher after all. And I may be flaking out with school, but I am not cutting corners with Cooper. With this list.

  The sports bra off, my breasts fill up the screen, and I adjust my seat on the couch, realizing this is going to be awkward. Standing, I carry my laptop to my bedroom. “Sorry,” I tell him. “I wanted to be in my bed.”

  “Is this the bed where you touched yourself all month?”

  I nod, biting my lower lip. “Well, I also used the bathtub.” I smile, unable to believe how comfortable I am , to be honest about this. “And the kitchen. I... I used a cucumber. I always heard jokes about that and I wanted to know if it was really like... really like a cock.
I wanted to be full again like I was with you.”

  Cooper is pulling down his sweats, his boxers, and then his cock is in his hand. Hard. Huge.

  My panties are soaked and I just want them off. I want to touch myself while looking at Cooper’s dick, thinking about it pressed between my thighs, filling up my gap.

  “And was the cucumber the same as me?” he asks, stroking himself.

  I set down my laptop on a few pillows on my bed, and stand before it, my fingers on the waistband on my Capri leggings. “It was a waste of a vegetable, let’s just say that.”

  “Show me where you put the cucumber, Gracie,” Cooper asks, his hard cock in his hand, watching me as I step from my pants, my panties. Watching as I lift a leg to the foot of the bed, standing before him completely naked, my nipples hard, my heart pounding.

  “I put it right here, Cooper,” I tell him, pressing a finger to my clit, then running my fingers down my length, feeling how wet I am for Coop. “Do you see where I put it?”

  I know the camera on my computer is capturing everything. I’m standing far enough away so that the lens fills with my entire body, and I press my hand against me, inside me, wanting Cooper to see me as I get off, just like the list stated.

  “I told you what I’ve been doing all month, Cooper,” I say, my breath quickening as I rub my fingers in tight little circles over my clit. “But what have you been doing to keep your cock happy?” I run one hand over my breasts, thumbing my nipples, imagining Cooper licking them, sucking them, pressing his cock between them. Imagining Cooper coming all over me, his salty come on my breasts, in my mouth.

  I want to suck Cooper off so badly.

  My fingers move so fast, and I keep my eyes open, watching Cooper jerk himself off, up and down, as he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. His eyes glued to me.

  “I’ve been thinking of your tight pussy, Gracie. How you felt when I fucked you in the alley.” Cooper’s grunting as he moves up and down his shaft, harder and harder, and I know he’s close because I’m close too.

  “Fuck, Coop, oh fuck me.” The words fly from my mouth, fierce and hot and true. I want Cooper right here, right now. Fucking me. “Yes, oh, fuck.” My pussy explodes, an orgasm rushing over me as my release covers my hand, drips down my thighs. My core is on fire and my eyes are on Cooper.

  “Oh, Gracie,” he growls, ribbons of his come shooting from his hard cock. I wish I could crawl through the screen, into his lap, and lick that come from his tip. “Oh, girl,” he groans, his eyes closed.

  I smile, my eyes fluttering. I press my hand to my chest and lower my leg from the bed. Grabbing a tissue to wipe myself, moving away from the screen so I can be more discreet.

  I pull my silk robe on, then sit on my bed, sighing as I position my laptop so I can see Cooper again.

  “Damn,” he says, his sweats pulled back up, but his chest still bare. “That was fucking insane, girl.”

  I smile softly, biting my knuckles because my body is still shivering from the thrill of that orgasm, of not just thinking about Cooper as I came, but watching him come too.

  “Is that how it usually is?” I ask. “When you get off like that with another person?”

  Cooper frowns, runs his hands over his jaw in that telltale way of his. “Nothing about this is usual, Gracie.”

  My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

  “You aren’t like other girls. Other women,” he clarifies.

  I pull my hair from the messy bun and run my fingers through the tangles. “Um. Okay?”

  “It’s a good thing, Gracie. That you aren’t like anyone else.”

  Anyone else. The words send a shock through me, wondering how many other women Cooper has been with since we started this list. How many women he may have done this exact same thing with while in Tampa.

  I try and push those thoughts away, knowing they have no right to take up residence in my mind.

  “You aren’t like anyone else, either, Cooper.”

  He grins. “You’re gonna love the next item that we’re checking off the list.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Already moving on?”

  “Did you want to try this one again, because I’m always game for a woman wanting to show me her tits.” He laughs, but I don’t. Suddenly all I can think about is Cooper with other women, Cooper enjoying other women’s breasts.

  This is stupid and unfair, but it’s the truth.

  “I hope spring training ends on a good note, Cooper,” I tell him, cinching the belt on my robe.

  “Me too.” His phone buzzes and he picks it up from his side table.

  “You need to go?” I ask, watching him read a text.

  “No, I’m cool. I mean, I’m meeting some people later, but I can keep talking. If you want.”

  “That’s okay,” I tell him, suddenly remembering my fight with Bridget and how I fucked things up so badly with her.

  “You should go, have fun with whoever you’re meeting up with.”

  He shrugs noncommittally. “It’s just the guys.”

  I can’t help it. “And some girls, too, right?”

  He looks back at his phone, not meeting my eyes. “You sure you don’t want to tell me why you were upset when we started this call?”

  “No,” I tell him. “It’s going to be all good. Actually, I think I know how to fix my problem.”

  “That’s good, Gracie,” he says, setting his phone down and looking at me before signing off. “Then I’ll see you in a few weeks, okay?”

  “Yep. Sounds good,” I smile tightly, then say goodbye.

  I close my computer and burst into tears.

  9

  Charging the Mound.

  April 2017

  Things started getting complicated right around the time I wanted to say fuck it to the list and tell Gracie how I honestly felt.

  I showed up back in New York feeling ready to put it all out there. Spring training had been a fucking grind. I hated the heat and the lack of downtime. I hated the reporters, the press conferences, and the non-stop pressure to bring my A-game.

  Not to mention my parents were there for the last two weeks of training – in my apartment. With Gabe and me.

  I love them, I do, but the space got tight. Of course, my parents didn’t seem to mind, and Gabe didn’t give a shit. But it meant my privacy was gone.

  Which meant even if I wanted to FaceTime Gracie... see if she wanted to veer off the list... people would hear us.

  Of course, I could call her while in the fucking car or in the parking lot. I know that. But every time I thought about it, I thought about her fancy ass family and her fancy ass degree. She isn’t being politically correct to be cool – she’s just that good. That put together. She says the right things without even realizing that she has the upper hand in everything.

  Gracie is the perfect girl and I’m not the perfect guy.

  Hell, I almost got her fucking arrested for public indecency, what kind of asshole does that?

  But here I am, already exhausted, not having even started the fucking season. And all I want is to walk into the apartment building, knock on Gracie’s door and pull her into a big ass bear hug.

  I want to smell her hair and kiss her skin and tell her that I may be a player who chases tail, but I only want one ass. I want to be hers even though I know I’m not worthy of her.

  I want to tell her that yeah, I’ve slept around, but this Kinky List is fucking news to me too. I’ve never fucking gotten off while a woman watched from across the country. I’ve never pinned a woman to a wall in the alley and given her my cock. But with Gracie I did. Not to mention, I swear, in that alley, I gave her my fucking heart.

  Only trouble is, I haven’t exactly explained that to her. I never laid it out, let her know how I felt when she was in my arms. How, even though I’m the big guy with broad shoulders when our bodies are pressed together, it feels like she’s the one holding me up.

  I don’t know what I’ll get in return, and I know messing up
her list is a shitty move, but I don’t exactly want to live with regrets when it comes to Gracie.

  The elevator doors open on our floor. And I walk through them, ready to knock on her door.

  But before I even reach it, she comes out of it.

  A smile spreads across my face. Gracie with her soft brown hair in waves down her back. Gracie with her pink lips and long lashes. Gracie with her ...with someone else.

  A guy.

  A fucking dude.

  He follows her out into the hall, and she laughs, waiting for something. For someone.

  Then a second guy comes out of her apartment. A guy who presses his hand to the small of Gracie’s back.

  My jaw tenses; she doesn’t see me here. I don’t want to watch, but I can’t fucking look away.

  With a jean jacket on, and her purse on her shoulders, Gracie’s clearly leaving. With these two guys. She locks her door, then says something that makes them laugh.

  She still doesn’t see me, but she’s about to. She takes steps down the hall with these men by her side, and I try to fucking process whatever the fuck is going on.

  I realize I’ve never actually seen Gracie with any guys, and certainly not guys who touch her skin as if it is familiar. It’s been what, three weeks since our video chat ... and suddenly I wish I hadn’t given her space.

  I wish I’d been all up in her grill.

  She sees me.

  “Cooper?” Her eyes go wide, and she grins. “Oh, my god, I did not expect to see you.”

  “I just got home.”

  “Wow, well,” she smiles again, “welcome back.”

  “Thanks.” I want to reach out and give her a hug, and even though I have no claim on her, I get territorial. She steps back, though, arms hugging her chest, giving me a message. “Are you headed out?” I ask although it’s fucking obvious.

  She tells the guys to give her a second, and I’m relieved. They nod and walk toward the elevator bank and for a second I think maybe she’ll send them away.

  “Yeah.” She scrunches up her shoulders. “Stephen and Drake are my dates tonight.”

  “Dates?”