For a Little While (One Strike Away Book 1)

by Mary J. Williams

  Spencer pulled Blue close, his hand rubbing her back. "A restaurant bathroom isn't private."

  "Depends on the time of day. I worked there one summer. I can attest to the fact that during the afternoon lull, from around two-thirty until four, that bathroom saw a lot of action." Blue, always happy to cuddle as close as possible, rested her head on Spencer's chest. "Want me to name names?"

  Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. "Maybe some other time."

  "Fine. But that doesn't solve our problem." Lifting her head, Blue met his gaze, a frown furrowing her brow. She had a touch of vulnerability in her eyes that he'd never seen before. "Unless you don't want me that way?"

  "You know better than that." Spencer kissed her softly. "We'll get there, Blue. Right time. Right place."

  Tonight, Blue had insisted on making all the plans. She picked him up in her little compact car—long on gas mileage, short on space—driving to an area near the UW campus. She didn't stop at a restaurant as Spencer expected but instead parked outside an apartment complex.

  "Did I miss something?" Spencer asked. "I thought we were going out to dinner."

  "We are. Here. For some reason, I'd forgotten that my friend and her roommate had left town for the holidays. Our conversation last night reminded me."

  Blue took Spencer's hand, leading the way into the building and up two flights of stairs. Places like this were found on campuses all over the country. Probably the world. Student housing. Inexpensive and nondescript.

  On each side of a carpet-lined hall was a series of white doors. Blue stopped at number three-fourteen.

  "Ta da!" She said, throwing the door open with a flourish. "Instant privacy."

  Not entering, Spencer craned his neck, looking right, then left. The renters had added a few splashes of color to brighten up the utilitarian design.

  "Come on," Blue laughed, tugging Spencer into the room. "There are some takeout menus on the counter. Order a pizza. Or Chinese. Whatever sounds good to you."

  "Takeout?" Spencer asked, tongue firmly planted in his cheek. "Aren't you going to cook?"

  "Sure. Let's see." Blue opened a cupboard. "We have stale saltines and…" She stuck her head in the fridge. "A moldy lump that at one time might have been cheese. Rachael Ray, eat your heart out."

  Blue was a beautiful young woman. A dream walking. But Spencer could find that on the pages of any fashion magazine. Her wit, intelligence, and innate kindness had Spencer on the brink of falling—hard.

  "I'll grab us something to drink. Jackie isn't big on buying food, but she and Shayla always keep the fridge stocked with other essentials. What would you like? Beer? Coke?"

  "Beer. Thanks," Spencer answered absently.

  Mind spinning, Spencer took out his phone. He called a local pizza parlor, placing their order while trying to sort through his thoughts. Talk about a revelation.

  Spencer was on the brink of falling in love with Blue.

  Love. Was it the reason he wanted to slow things down? The reason he always stopped when they were on the brink of having sex? Because Spencer knew—deep in his heart—that when it came to Blue, nothing was casual.

  In the past, Spencer enjoyed a woman's body, able to walk away without a backward glance. Not this time. Not with Blue.

  Which brought him back to the here and now. A half-eaten pizza sitting on the table. His hand caressing Blue's cheek. Her eyes a warm, mellow gray. She looked happy. Happy to be with him. And Spencer felt the same.

  "You plan on going to your friend's party. In New York." Blue smiled. "I'll miss you."

  "Not if you come along."

  "Me? To New York? With you?"

  Smiling at Blue's amazed expression, Spencer nodded.

  "Yes, yes, and yes. You don't have to be back at school until next week. I leave for Florida around the same time. This is a perfect chance for us to get away before our schedules get crazy."

  "That's right. Spring Training starts this month." Blue shifted her gaze, a sure sign she wasn't telling him the absolute truth. "We've been having so much fun, I hadn't thought beyond right now."

  "The thought hadn't crossed your mind that from now until October, my time will be strictly regimented?"

  "Again. I'll miss you."

  Unlike the first time Blue said the words, her smile wasn't as convincing.

  "You won't get rid of me that easily, Bluebell." As he smoothed back her hair, Spencer's expression softened. He wasn't ready to say the words, but he hoped when Blue looked into his eyes she could see a little of what he felt. "It will take some work to keep this thing going. If you're willing, so am I."

  "Yes." Blue threw herself at him, her arms winding around his neck. She peppered his face with quick kisses. "Yes, yes, yes. To everything. Us. New York. Next week. Next month. Yes."

  "I'll take that as a yes." Rolling onto his back, Spencer took Blue with him until the length of her blanketed him. "We can do this, Blue."

  Blue nodded, her cheek rubbing his, her lips brushing his ear. Taking the lobe between her teeth, she bit ever so lightly, then whispered, "Yes."

  "Want to watch a movie?"

  The question was ridiculous under the circumstances. Spencer meant it that way because he knew it would make Blue laugh. The sound tickled his ear. And as always, it warmed his blood while simultaneously lightening his heart.

  "Another time." Rising, Blue straddled his hips, her hands braced on his chest. "I have a better idea. To combat your apparent shyness—who would've guessed—we'll play a game."

  Spencer could have argued. Him? Shy? Talk about ridiculous. Since he knew she was teasing—and the view from his vantage point was so nice—he kept his thoughts to himself.

  Besides, he was all but certain the kind of game Blue had in mind would be right up his alley.

  "Shyness can debilitate a person. To combat the problem, we'll take things slow and easy. That is where the game comes in. It's called Touch Me Here."

  "Sounds intriguing." Shifting slightly, Spencer aligned Blue's jeans-covered center with his. Hot didn't begin to describe the feeling. When she gasped, he smiled slowly. "What are the rules?"

  "Simple. Place your hand on my body."

  "Where?"

  "Your choice. But," Blue cautioned. "You can only leave it there for a little while. I don't want you to be overwhelmed."

  "I appreciate your kind consideration."

  Slowly, Spencer looked Blue up and down. Enjoying the game, he chose a spot, noting the surprise that flitted across her face.

  "I've always been a leg man," he explained, squeezing Blue's thigh.

  "Five seconds."

  "And then?" His hand moved, to the inside of her leg.

  "Pick another spot."

  They went on this way for several minutes—or was it hours? Spencer wasn't sure. At some point, fun became a kind of torture. Especially when Blue would wiggle her hips. He didn't know if her intention was to grind against his growing erection, but the way her lips curved upward made him suspicious.

  "Wouldn't it be more fun if you took off your shirt?" Spencer asked, his hand hovering over Blue's breast.

  Looking skeptical, Blue frowned. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

  "Oh, I think I can handle it."

  "Okay. But just—"

  "For a little while," Spencer finished. "I know."

  Blue dispensed with her shirt, followed quickly by her bra, the garment flying over her shoulder in a blur of purple lace.

  Spencer wasn't about to remind her that all he asked for was the shirt. Nor did he hesitate to take advantage of the unexpected bonus. Cupping Blue's breast, his sigh answered hers. So soft. So firm. Saliva pooled in his mouth in anticipation of his first taste.

  "I don't want to play anymore," Blue exclaimed

  The rhythm of her breathing increased, her eyes closing in pleasure as Spencer rubbed his callused palm across the tender, hardened tips.

  "Hold on." />
  Spencer didn't have to ask twice. As he stood, Blue's legs tightened their grip. She pressed her breasts against him, her fingers finding purchase in his thick hair.

  "Bedroom?" he asked, kissing the side of her neck.

  "Sounds good." Blue tilted her head, giving Spencer better access.

  Chuckling, Spencer skirted the sofa. The room was small. Kitchen to the left. Leaving the darkened doorway to the right as the only logical direction for him to take.

  At the end of the hall, Spencer found just enough light to guide his way. He shouldered his way through the open door. One bedroom. One king-sized bed. Interesting.

  "Jackie and Shayla are lovers," Blue said as if reading his thoughts. She leaned over, turning on the end-table lamp. "Does that bother you?"

  "No, Bluebell." Spencer pulled back the covers, setting her on the bed. Kneeling, he took off her socks, kissing one instep, then the other. "Gay, straight. I don't care. Sex should be between consenting adults. After that, I say live and let live."

  Blue threw her arms around Spencer, tumbling him to the bed. Beaming, she touched his face.

  "I'm so glad. I could never have sex with a known homophobe. It would've killed me to kick you out. But I'm a woman of principles. It's best you know that now before we take this any further."

  Spencer continued undressing Blue.

  "That's the difference between us," he said, sliding her jeans down her long legs.

  "You don't have principles?"

  "I do. And I'd kick you out of bed if I discovered you were a prejudiced asshole." He paused, his lips savoring the soft skin just below Blue's bellybutton. "After we had sex."

  Blue's laugh turned to a gasp as Spencer moved lower, spreading her legs. Raising his gaze, he paused when saw the passion in her eyes mixed with something else.

  Not fear. But what? Unease? Wariness? Spencer stopped. This wouldn't do.

  Fully dressed, he joined Blue on the bed, taking her into his arms, a soothing hand on her shoulder.

  "You okay?"

  "Great. All's good. Keep going."

  Blue liked using her words. Spencer liked hearing them. Three stilted sentences would be fine—great—if his touch had scrambled her brain to a point beyond coherent speech. But he could tell a wobbly mind wasn't her problem.

  Always direct, when Blue's eyes wouldn't meet his, Spencer knew something was wrong.

  "Talk to me, Blue."

  "I… It's nothing really. Why are you wearing so many clothes?"

  Blue tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. With a hand over hers, Spencer stayed her almost frantic movements.

  "Look at me."

  With a sigh, Blue's gaze moved from Spencer's chest, stopping at his chin.

  "My eyes, Bluebell. Look me in the eyes."

  Slowly, Blue complied, grumbling something under her breath.

  "What was that?" Spencer asked, lips twitching. He was well aware of what she said.

  "Don't call me Bluebell," she hissed.

  The color in her cheeks, the flare of anger turning her irises a stormy gray. Much better.

  "Then tell me what's going on in that complicated mind of yours."

  "Complicated? Really?" Blue's frown turned contemplative. Then her expression brightened. Apparently, after some thought, she decided to take it as a compliment.

  "And sexy as hell," Spencer assured her. Smoothing back her hair, he ran his hand down the silky length, his fingers curling around the ends. "If you aren't ready for this, Blue, we'll wait. But you have to tell me what you're feeling. Always. No matter what. I'll do the same. As long as we can talk things out, we'll be fine."

  Sighing, Blue nodded.

  "Everything was great. It still is," she said.

  "But…?"

  "When you started to… "

  "Go down on you?"

  "Yes." A flush covered Blue's cheeks. "God. I hate this. I'm not a blushing virgin. But I may not be as experienced as I've led you to believe."

  Blue hadn't led Spencer anywhere. He didn't know how many men she'd been with or what she'd done or hadn't done. Still, he could tell when they kissed, when they touched, that she retained a certain innocence no amount of attitude could mask.

  "I want you, Blue." More than he'd once thought possible. Spencer took her hand, raising it to his lips. "Do you want me?"

  "Yes." Blue's grip was almost as fierce as the look in her eyes. "It's different with you, Spencer. I don't know how to describe it. More intense. More exciting. More… terrifying."

  "I was with you up until that last one." The last thing Spencer wanted was to frighten her.

  "You don't terrify me," Blue collapsed onto the mattress. Spencer went with her, propping himself up on one elbow. "I terrify me. All of a sudden, I realized that I'm out of my league. Don't get me wrong. I like sex. It's fun. And feels good—most of the time."

  "I should hope so." If some idiot hurt Blue—even if it were unintentional—he wanted names.

  "Fun and vanilla. That's about the sum of my experience. I was fine with that. Until now. I'm afraid of not knowing how to please you. That after all the beautiful, sophisticated, blowjob giving, Kama Sutra expert women you've been with, I'll be a big, fat disappointment."

  "Now I'm terrified. And a little insulted," Amazed, Spencer shook his head. "You were supposed to be thinking about how good I made you feel. Instead, all that crap was running through your head? Good thing my ego is capable of taking a slap or two."

  "Spencer…"

  Spencer stopped Blue with a look. "My sex life isn't a series of kinky free-for-alls. I don't have a trapeze hanging from my bedroom ceiling. As for the Kama Sutra? Have you ever looked at that thing?"

  Blue shook her head.

  "Ninety-five percent of those positions look more painful than pleasurable. The others are pretty routine."

  "Oh."

  Blue looked chastised. She also looked intrigued. Spencer laughed.

  "One of these days we'll check it out. Together. For now, let's get one thing straight. I don't need or want you to be anything but yourself. Explain the blowjob comment. Have you? Haven't you?"

  "Once." From the look on Blue's face, she didn't find the memory pleasant. "After a lot of jamming and ramming, I was out. I told him to buy an inflatable doll and leave us flesh-and-blood women alone."

  Damn, Spencer thought, she was spectacular.

  "Got it. Not a fan of blowjobs."

  "I didn't say that," Blue quickly corrected. "I might like it—with the right man. With you."

  Spencer's gaze fell to Blue's mouth. The image was easy to see. With regret, he sighed. Another time. For now, they'd concentrate on the basics.

  "You like sex." Spencer gave Blue a gentle kiss. "I like sex." Another kiss, longer, more intense. "Any reason we shouldn't like sex with each other?"

  "I'm game if you are."

  "No more games. This is about to get serious."

  Going to his knees, Spencer whipped off his shirt. A second later, the rest of his clothes were on the floor. Blue's eyes widened.

  Spencer rarely considered how his body looked. Keeping in shape was part of his job. The more he fine-tuned his engine and all the running parts, the better they performed as a whole.

  However, Spencer liked looking at Blue. She was a beautiful woman. It gave him a surge of pleasure knowing she felt the same about him. Though by the changing of her breathing and the darkening of her irises, the answer was obvious, he had to ask.

  "Like what you see?"

  Blue reached out, her hand hovered near his abs for an instant, and then she snatched it back.

  "Now who is the shy one?" Spencer's tone teased, but the green of his eyes told a different story. He wanted Blue's touch. Desperately. "If you want something, reach out and take it."

  Slowly, but confidently, Blue traced the well-defined ridges of Spencer's abdomen.

  "I want you," Blue said in a breathy voice. />
  "Then I'm yours."

  Spencer lowered his body over Blue. Warm flesh to warm flesh. In no hurry to do more than allow himself to savor the feeling, he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent, committing every moment to memory.

  Blue's hands caressed his back. Slowly, as if she too wanted to remember. Spencer closed his eyes. This wasn't sex, he realized.

  For the first time in his life, Spencer was about to make love. And he found the revelation heady. Exhilarating.

  And yes, a little terrifying.

  Loving Blue. Nice ring to it.

  Spencer nudged her legs apart, testing if she was ready for him. Hot and slick. Perfect. With one long, slow glide, he joined their bodies. His hands framed Blue's face, his eyes held her gaze. She gasped the pleasure and wonder right there for him to see.

  Spencer felt a growing need for release, but he wasn't ready for it to end. Blue's legs gripped his hips, perfectly matching his rhythm. Rising higher. Higher. The trip was a heady ride.

  Over the top, they fell together in a burst of bright lights and exploding jolts of electricity.

  Rolling to his side, taking Blue with him, Spencer imagined how they'd look if somebody took a picture. A wild mess of tangled sheets and tangled limbs. Sweaty bodies clinging together.

  He glanced down at Blue.

  Who needed a camera?

  Spencer knew that the smile on Blue's face—content, radiant—would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  PRESENT DAY

  A REASONABLE WOMAN would be on her way home to a hot shower, a large glass of wine, and a marathon session of I Love Lucy. All things that put Blue in her happy zone.

  The trip to New York went smoothly. At least the part with the Cyclone players. The men were professional on camera. Charming. Engaging. In other words, there had been no reason for Blue to be there.

  Blue wished she'd had time to take the players up on their offer to buy her lunch. After arriving at the hotel with just enough time to freshen up, change her clothes, and rush to the television studio—where she basically stood around and twiddled her thumbs—a leisurely hour or two with three charming, handsome men would have been nice.