Perfect Catch

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Perfect Catch Page 5

by Sierra Dean

Did it?

  “Do you live around here?”

  “Is that a broader version of do you come here often?”

  “I don’t know. Do you come here often?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “To meet guys?”

  “Pfft, do I seem like a girl who comes to a bar to pick up men?” She rolled her eyes and retrieved her beer, taking a long swallow. Then, for no good reason in particular—she was drunk, he was cute—she decided to play along. “Say I did want to pick up a guy.”

  “Say you did.” His brows hitched up a little, and he gave her an assessing look, clearly wanting to tread lightly now that things were going his way.

  She still wasn’t sure she was going to sleep with him, because sex had so many strings attached no matter how careful she tried to be. But flirting with the idea of sex seemed harmless.

  After all, it had been such a long time she was starting to worry there might be cobwebs in her vagina. What was the harm in feeling desired?

  “Okay, say I was going to pick you up—”

  “Me? Well, that’s awfully fresh of you, Miss Darling. I’m not some easy, floozy type, you know.”

  Alice sighed, her bangs fluffing up. “Keep it up, Ross. See how far you get.”

  “I’m putting my money on pretty far. You think I’m charming.”

  “I think you’re infuriating.”

  “It’s a fine line separating the two.”

  “In your case I absolutely believe that.”

  “Focus. We’re talking about you picking me up.”

  “I’m trying to anyway.” She smirked, unable to resist. He really was charming. Goddamn him.

  “Okay, what’s your question?”

  “Where would we go?”

  “My hotel?” Now the grinning, teasing aspect was gone. He was beginning to think she was serious, and for Alice’s part, she had already half-convinced herself. She grimaced at the idea of a hotel, though.

  “Too…public.” The sports press was everywhere in Lakeland and the surrounding baseball towns. The last thing she needed was someone sniffing out a story when there wasn’t one.

  “Uh…” They both knew her place was out. Even in this version, where he was a carpenter and she a mere waitress, there was still Olivia to keep in mind. And there was no way in hell Alice was bringing a man into her house for sex. Most awkward morning-after breakfast in history. “I’m not sure where that leaves us,” he admitted.

  “My car is in the lot,” she said.

  “I’m not letting you drive anywhere.”

  “Who said anything about driving?”

  Chapter Eight

  Alex was glad she’d suggested her car instead of his. He didn’t think there was any way to wedge two people into the back of a Porsche, let alone give them enough maneuverability to have halfway decent sex. Even as they walked across the dimly lit parking lot, he wasn’t entirely convinced he was going to have sex.

  Booze had given him a fat head, which made him bolder than he might normally be. He’d done his best to win Alice over, but would that end in him getting lucky, or was this some ploy to get them out of the bar so she could ditch him?

  Sex or not, there was no way he’d let her drive.

  His confidence was mostly posturing. He wouldn’t believe she wanted to have sex with him until he had his hands on her boobs. There was a chance he still might not believe it then.

  Boobs had a tendency to make him question reality on a good day.

  Alice fumbled in her purse as they drew up next to her familiar Acura. Alex fidgeted uneasily from one foot to the other, casting furtive glances around the parking lot. Alice’s car was parked under a large tree, casting it into almost total darkness. Only the faintest glow from the single street lamp reached their position. Between the bad lighting and the tinted rear windows, there was a good chance no one would know what they were up to.

  Once her keys were located, she hit the unlock button with a triumphant whoop. The click of the automatic tumblers sounded so loud, Alex’s heart thumped in response. He was, well, there was no pretending otherwise…he was nervous. Like a teenager who thought he might get to second base. Except Alice was signaling him to run all the way home like an overenthusiastic third-base coach.

  He’d been hoping for a lucky single, and here he was with an unexpected home run.

  “Alice, you know I’m just fucking around, right? I mean, you’ve been drinking.”

  “So have you.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to, like…force you into something you don’t want to do.”

  “Do you see a gun to my head? No. Don’t say force, Alex, it sounds vulgar. I may be drunk, but I’m perfectly capable of deciding who gets access to my vagina.”

  In spite of the fact she looked a little blurry-eyed—or maybe he was seeing things blurred—her voice was firm and a touch annoyed.

  “Do I get access?”

  “You want access?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards her. He took two awkward steps, the unexpected imbalance making him wobbly, but her grip on his T-shirt kept him steady enough. His hands went to her waist, drawing her towards him. For a moment they stood, crushed against one another, their breaths falling in unison as they struggled to keep calm. His own lungs felt hot suddenly, like trying to run bases in Arizona at the height of summer.

  Alice’s lips parted as she looked up to him, her eyes wide like she hadn’t realized what she was doing up until the instant it happened. He waited, a polite pause in case she wanted to change her mind, but when she grinned at him—a small flash showing the hint of a crooked canine tooth—he took the invitation.

  He cupped her face in both hands, delicately as though it were china, and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. She closed her eyes, yielding to his lightest touch as if it was the first time in a long time anyone had lavished any attention on her.

  She let out a sigh, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard a woman make.

  He kissed her, and beyond the lingering smoky taste of the whiskey, there was a perfect, feminine flavor to her that went straight to his head faster than the alcohol. Her lips were soft and wet, and when he nipped the lower one, she melted into him, wrapping her arms around his back, her fingers digging into the well-worn cotton of his shirt.

  Alice melted into him as though her salvation depended on it, like his lips could wake her from a Snow White or Sleeping Beauty-esque dream. She pushed him back against the car, going up on her tiptoes to get a better angle at his mouth. This time she kissed him, and the power of the exchange shifted to her. She was demanding, begging for more from him, from the kiss.

  Alex dropped his hands from her face and slipped his thumbs inside the belt loops of her jeans, keeping her tethered to him. Her tongue grazed his, sending an electric thrill through him, his skin coming alive with a ferocious buzzing. He felt more awake than he ever had. With each kiss he got more focused, more sober. He was so present in the moment there was a good chance he might remember this night forever.

  She was a hell of a kisser.

  She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. He released her belt loops and cupped her ass, pressing her to him, the strain of his erection pinned between them.

  “God,” she whispered against his open mouth. When she rocked her hips, he thought she might be out to kill him.

  He fumbled for the door handle, unable to rationalize where it might be since he was too busy focusing on the wild attention of her mouth and her now-wandering hands. He found the handle the same moment she cupped his groin. He let out a moan that was equal parts triumph and torment.

  Arching his back up but keeping her close, he managed to get the back door open. Alice’s fingers were busy undoing his belt, and her rush to have him undressed was putting him at risk of losing his cool. If she didn’t slow down, he’d be in a race to the finish before his fly was even unzipped.

  Alice pushed him bac
kwards into the car, and he smacked his head on the doorframe, breaking away from their kiss to mutter, “Ow.” The faint possibility of having concussed him didn’t deter Alice’s forward momentum though. She climbed in after him, and as soon as he’d pulled his legs out of the way, she slammed the door.

  The car was dark once the interior light was gone, and sitting in the late-evening sun had made the inside muggy. Alice pulled his shirt over his head, struggling to free his arms in the cramped space. He scuttled back until his head bumped against the opposite door.

  This woman was going to kill him, but at least he’d die happy.

  “Pants. Off.” She tugged at his belt, finally freeing it.

  He abided her command and unzipped his fly, managing to get his jeans and boxers down as far as his thighs. It was the best he could do in the tiny space with a not-inconsequential amount of woman on top of him. Alice attempted to get his clothes lower, but between the two of them his pants were only getting as far as his knees.

  “Condom?” she asked.

  Alex gestured to his pants. “In my wallet.”

  Alice reached back and dug in the pocket of his pants, her cheek pressed against his lower abdomen, hot breath tickling his shaft. She found the condom with no difficulty because soon she was sitting up again and the latex had been rolled over his cock with such speed he’d barely registered the action.

  She whipped off her own shirt, tossing it blindly into the front seat where it caught on the rearview mirror and stuck. Her bra went next, and Alex was transfixed by the sight of her now-freed breasts. They were large and milky white, a kind of paleness he wasn’t accustomed to seeing on Florida women. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached up and cupped them, rubbing his thumbs over the already rigid pink nipples.

  “Christ, Alice. You’re fucking beautiful.”

  He leaned up to capture one of the buds in his mouth, but she shoved him back down, holding him in place with one hand. “Wait.”

  After undoing her own pants, she managed to strip them off from her position on top of him. With a military-like precision, she was soon completely naked and straddling his lap. “Sit up,” she demanded.

  Alex wouldn’t have called himself a dominant kind of man. He didn’t tie women up or boss them around. But all the same, it was a new experience for him to have a woman totally take the reins and make all the calls. He dug it. Clasping her waist, he shifted into a sitting position while keeping her astride him.

  Once he was upright, she braced one hand on either side of his head and met his eyes, staring at him with a ferocious intensity as scary as it was seductive. How was it she managed to make every part of him—not just the Southern brain—stand at attention? She was arresting, intoxicating, and by all accounts way out of his league. Yet here she was, naked in his lap and looking at him like he was the finest dessert she’d ever ordered.

  If that didn’t get a guy hard, nothing would.

  “Fuck me,” she told him, leaning in to lick his parted lips.

  Okay, he took it back. If that didn’t get a guy hard, nothing would.

  “Whatever the fuck you want.” Removing one hand from her waist, he angled the head of his cock to her opening and arched his hips up from the seat, sliding inside her. He fit perfectly, as if she were made for him, and with her lips pressed to his ear he could hear each hitch of breath and stifled moan as he drew almost all the way out. He reclaimed her waist and guided their rhythm.

  Starting slow—slow enough he thought he might drive himself mad—he rocked her body up and down, leaning his head back against the seat so he could see her face as she rode him. Alice started with her eyes open, wearing her intense stare, but as she claimed control and began building the pace, her eyes fluttered shut and her hands moved from the headrests to his shoulders.

  With her distracted, he took up his efforts with her breasts again, lowering his mouth to one perfect nipple and rolling his tongue over it, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. She buried her fingers in his hair, wordlessly commanding him to continue by keeping his head locked in place. He obeyed, biting down until she gasped, then chasing off the pain with slow, languorous passes of his tongue.

  Her movements became as frenzied as her breath, and the tightness of her body coaxed him towards his own inevitable climax. Alex braced one hand against the car window, the glass slick and fogged from their labored breathing, and thrust into her with the same demanding necessity she was pushing down on him.

  He grunted once, her pussy clenching him like a fist, and when she came, she pressed her mouth against the backseat, muffling a scream. Even muted it was a rough, primal sound that brought his own orgasm on full force. Shuddering from the release, he held her sweat-dampened body to his, and she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him crushed to her.

  Together they both struggled to catch their breaths.

  Alice let out a tiny, contented sigh.

  Then the whole moment shattered. Someone rapped loudly on the glass, and a flashlight pierced the perfect dark of the car. Alice yelped and buried her face against Alex’s neck.

  “Get your clothes on, kids,” muttered a gruff voice. “Then let me have a word with you.”

  Chapter Nine

  The cop was nice enough to turn the flashlight off after they clambered out of the backseat. Alice hoped it was dark enough to hide the hideous blush that must be coloring her cheeks. If there was a God, He would open up the ground right there and let it swallow her whole.

  No such luck.

  Maybe He was punishing her for not sending Olivia to Catholic school.

  As far as cops went, she had a feeling they’d gotten lucky. This guy was portly, his uniform straining over his belly, and his cheeks were a ruddy crimson, giving him a jolly countenance. Plus he was grinning at them like they’d just made his night.

  Alice tucked herself in behind Alex, so she was still visible but didn’t bear the full weight of the cop’s scrutiny.

  “Who does this car belong to?” He gave Alex a once-over before he shifted his attention to Alice.

  “Me,” she confessed. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest since she hadn’t been able to find her bra fast enough. Alex’s belt was still undone and his T-shirt was on backwards. If there’d been any doubt of what they’d been up to in the backseat, one look at them would have erased any uncertainty.

  “Ma’am, can I see some identification?”

  “It’s in the car, is that okay?” The last thing she wanted was to make a grab for the car door and end up with a gun pointed at her.

  “Go ahead. How about you, son?”

  Alice was grateful she’d put Alex’s wallet back in his pocket. He pulled out his ID while she opened the front door to get her own out of her purse. When the cop had both their driver’s licenses, he clicked his flashlight back on and investigated them with the kind of agonizing slowness designed to make a person crazy. Was this something they taught in cop school? How to make civilians feel as uncomfortable as possible?

  Once he was satisfied, the cop turned the light off again and hung it from his belt.

  “I don’t think I have to tell you what you’ve done wrong, do I?”

  “No, sir,” Alex replied quickly.

  Alice added her own meek, “No.”

  “You two are old enough to know better. I expect this from teenagers with nowhere else to go. You guys have options. What kind of idiocy drives grown adults to fornicate in the back of a car like hormonal high school seniors? Hmm?”

  “Well, sir…neither of us was in any condition to drive.” Alex smiled faintly, and Alice could tell he was struggling not to sound cheeky.

  A long silence followed, and Alice was convinced Alex’s attempt at humor might just get them both arrested. Instead the cop smiled back and handed them each their IDs. “Be that as it may, son, next time keep it in your pants until you can call a cab. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to let you two off with a warning
this time. But don’t let me catch you humping like bunnies in public again. Understood?”

  “That won’t be an issue,” Alice assured him. Since she was never going to have sex again as long as she lived—which didn’t promise to be long if one could actually die from embarrassment—getting caught in flagrante wouldn’t come up.

  “All right. You kids need me to call up a cab?”

  Alex shook his head. “No, thanks. We’ll head back inside and call one.”

  “As long as you aren’t planning to drive.” He raised a stern brow to them both, and like guilty children, Alex and Alice shook their heads. “Okay. You lovebirds get home safe now.”

  He turned and strode back towards his cruiser a few feet away, and Alice buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, I can’t believe that happened.”

  “I know, right? The sex was good, but who knew it was illegal?”

  “Alex, this is serious. We almost got arrested. I can’t get arrested. I’m a mom.”

  “First, we didn’t almost get arrested. Second, do you think going to jail goes well for a professional athlete?”

  Alice hadn’t considered the implications of what might happen if Alex had been arrested. She’d been so focused on the horrible notion of having to call Kevin to come bail her out, she hadn’t thought of the bigger picture. Had Alex been arrested, it would be all over the news the next day. Tawdry newspaper headlines would be discussing the Alex Ross sex scandal arrest, and she would just be some cheap townie he’d been busted screwing in the back of a car.

  No. Not this shit again. She wasn’t going to be the punch line in a story he told his buddies a few years down the road about the time he fucked some girl—whose name he likely wouldn’t remember—and how they’d been busted by the cops.

  “This was a mistake,” she muttered.

  “Yeah, the car might not have been our best call. Bet my hotel isn’t looking so bad right now. You know, we can still…” He waggled his brows and turned to face her, placing his hands on her waist.

  Her first instinct was to melt into his embrace because being close to him felt so damned good. But, no. She had broken her only rule, and the universe had spoken loud and clear.

 

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