Me: Don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us. I need you and I want you in my life.
I stare at the phone, waiting for an answer. I pour myself a glass of wine – a big glass of Moscato. My heart races when I see three small dots blinking. He’s read my text and he’s writing a response.
The dots disappear, and so does my hope.
I take my glass of wine and my unanswered text into the living room and turn on tonight’s game. The teams haven’t taken the field yet. The pregame analysis is still underway.
As I watch and listen, the dots come and go two more times.
Finally, just as I’m about to give up and turn off the game, an answer arrives. Sort of.
Cole: We’ll talk after the game.
It may not be the response I wanted, but at least I got one, and there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I think.
I watch tonight’s game with baited breath. I only allow myself a trip to the bathroom when he’s on the bench.
In the middle of the fifth inning, my phone rings. I look down at the caller ID and I see my mother’s picture pop up. I decline the call. I haven’t talked to her in weeks and I don’t have the energy or desire to explain things to her now.
To say Cole McGuire played brilliantly at tonight’s game would be a gross understatement. To say he owned the field and commanded the game would be closer but not quite descriptive of the way his passion turned into action.
After the Red Hawks won with their starting shortstop getting a walk, a line drive no one could touch, a stolen base, and a two-run homer over the left field fence, the announcers again proclaimed Cole the most likely candidate for Rookie of the Year.
His game is over. He said we could talk. Did I say the words he needs to hear? I hope so.
It’s after one o’clock in the morning when I finally hear from him. But instead of hearing his voice, or seeing is face, I have to read his words.
Cole: I wish I was kissing you instead of missing you.
Cole: I’m sorry.
Me: Me too.
Me: You played great tonight – I was watching.
Cole: I like it when you watch . . . oh, wait – you were talking about the game. Sorry.
As I read his words, I can’t stop my body’s physical reaction – tears. I allow the tears to fall for the first time all day. And it feels good, mostly because they’re tears of joy.
Me: Can we talk?
Cole: I’d like to do more than talk.
Me: Me, too.
Cole: But I can’t.
Me: Oh
The phone rings in my hand and his picture flashes on the screen. I suck back the tears, take a deep breath and answer, trying my best to sound normal.
“What are you doing right now?” Cole asks.
I close the laptop in front of me and answer honestly, “Nothing. It’s after midnight. I was trying to stay awake waiting for you to call. Are you home?”
“I wish.”
He explains to me how the team’s charter flight originally scheduled to depart tomorrow night for Atlanta has been cancelled because of mechanical problems. Since they can’t get the whole team on a commercial flight, the charter company is using one of their other planes. The only problem is scheduling – they now have to leave at seven in the morning.
No one is allowed to leave to go home. The entire team is being sequestered in a hotel in Atlantic City to assure that no one misses the flight.
“Has this ever happened before?” I ask.
“Not this year, but it did happen once last year from what the guys are telling me. Can I ask you a question about your new car?”
Hearing him bring up this touchy subject sets me into an immediate panic. “Sure,” I answer tentatively, holding my breath as I wait.
“If I were to give you the address of the hotel, do you think those fancy wheels of yours could get you here safely?”
I don’t understand. “What do you mean? When?”
“Right now.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Unless you have something else more important to do.”
I jump up and start getting dressed. “I can be there in an hour,” I excitedly answer.
I scribble off a note of explanation to the girls and leave it on the kitchen counter where I’m sure they will spot it. Then quick as a flash, I’m traveling southbound down the Garden State Parkway. At this hour, there are barely any cars on the road.
The drive is an easy one, guided by the talking GPS system leading me through every turn. I know I’m almost there when I drive past the entrance to Liberty Stadium where the Sentinels play. You can see the glowing lights from nearly a mile away.
Just a few minutes further down the road and Riverfront Stadium comes into full view. It’s an older stadium, but that just adds to its charm. As the name would suggest, it’s located right alongside the Mullica River.
I’ve lived and worked in Manhattan, home to some of the world’s largest buildings. I’ve been in structures both old and new, ornate and modern, uptown and downtown. Some were nicer than others, but most were relatively unremarkable.
This is something completely different. I’ve never been to Europe, but I imagine this is what it must be like to drive up to a castle; the sprawling grounds surrounding it accented with expertly manicured landscaping.
I have a sudden desire to receive a private tour. Maybe one given by a certain shortstop with big blue eyes and a million-dollar smile.
I know Manhattan is the city that never sleeps, but whoever coined that phrase has never been to Atlantic City. This place is alive and bustling with action, even at this crazy hour. Well-lit highway signs guide me straight to the boardwalk and hotel.
I find a great parking spot in the hotel’s garage and a friendly attendant chats me up as he rides the elevator with me. “You can’t be too careful these days,” he explains. “There are crazy people out there. And a pretty young girl like you, all alone? You should have someone looking out for you. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
Smiling up at the older gentleman, I notice he’s wearing a nametag with the official Tropicana logo beneath his name printed in big bold letters. “Thank you, Andre. I’m actually on my way to meet my boyfriend.”
“There’s a bunch of ball players staying in the hotel tonight. Is one of them your man?” he asks as his long crooked finger punches the button to the seventeenth floor.
A big smile spreads across my face. “Yes,” I happily admit.
I look up to see Andre’s face fade. “I’m sure your man is one of the good ones, but keep your eyes open.” He shakes his head and makes a clicking sound with his teeth. “The things I’ve seen ...” His voice fades off. “They bring in these girls, sometimes two or three at a time. I see them coming and going morning, noon, and night. ”
“I can imagine.” The existence of women who chase after professional athletes is not a very well kept secret. But I have no such worries or concerns when it comes to Cole’s personal behavior. “My boyfriend’s not like that,” I explain.
“Good. Glad to hear that.” A smile replaces his frown. “I have three daughters and I’ve always told them that no man is worth their time if they’re just runnin’ game and actin’ shady. No woman should be played by a man.” `
“Thank you, Andre. Cole’s a good man. I’m sure of it. We just had our first fight and I don’t want him to fly off to his next game still angry.” I don’t know why I just said that. Do I want him to know that I’m not one of those women or that Cole isn’t one of those men?
Maybe a little bit of both.
The elevator stops and the doors open. Andre offers me one more bit of advice before we part. “Go get your man and remind him how lucky he is to have you.”
As I step off, I turn and smile. Andre watches from the elevator, holding it open for me, as I walk down the hallway towards Cole’s room. I scan the numbers on the doors as I inch closer and closer.
My stomach is in knots. It feels
like an eternity since I’ve felt his arms around me. Even longer since we’ve kissed.
Of course, his is the last room at the end of the hallway. I wave to my new friend, take a deep breath, and knock.
Cole opens the door and smiles. Without a word, he takes my hand in his and leads me into the suite, shuts the door behind us and locks it.
“Cole, we really need to talk.”
“I didn’t ask you to come here so we can talk,” he interrupts and pins me against the door, pressing my body to his. He whispers in my ear, “I thought I lost you.”
“I’m not hooking up with Declan,” I reply, determined to clear the air.
“No.” He bites my neck. “You’re not.”
“I’m keeping my car,” I tell him, standing my ground.
“I know.” He nibbles on my other ear.
I pull back, just a little. “And do I get to keep you, too?”
“You bet your sweet ass you do,” he practically moans in my ear.
Cole slides his hand across my neck, digs his fingers into my hair, and sears my lips with a kiss so powerful I nearly forget how to breathe. “Mine,” he hisses. I have to grab his arms to keep from falling over.
Once he releases me, I come back to my senses. “Listen, you can’t just kiss me and make me forget about all of this.”
“Good. I love a challenge. We have all night. And I’m pretty sure I can find multiple ways to make it up to you.” He pulls me against him and whispers in my ear so all I can feel is his hot breath on my neck. “Over and over again.”
He kisses me again. His tongue eases its way into my mouth and plays with my own. I feel my knees go instantly weak, and I press my body close to his. It feels like everything that had been wrong has been put back to right the moment our lips touch.
Our tongues become reacquainted and I know immediately that I’ve fallen deeply, madly, passionately in love with this man. How could I think that I could live, for even one more moment, without him?
Cole grabs a firm hold of my hand and leads me towards the bedroom. My heart is fluttering wildly.
He stops at the door and waits for my reaction. Without a word, I open the door and walk in first. As I turn around to face him, I begin untying the top of my dress.
Cole gently halts my hands and takes over the job himself. It is such a thrill to be unwrapped by him. The want in his eyes always makes me feel sexy and desirable in a way that I never had before. He strips me down to my panties – I hadn't bothered to wear a bra – and I feel intensely vulnerable, standing almost naked before him.
Cole steps back, looks into my eyes, then pulls his shirt up and over his head. I take a long moment to enjoy the view: smooth, eternally golden skin over lean muscle.
The room is lit by only a single bedside lamp. Gently, he lays me down on the bed. As he kneels beside me just staring at my body, I feel every inch of my skin come alive under his gaze. I am desperate for him to touch me, but he stays like that for what feels like an eternity, simply looking.
When he finally reaches out a hand and touches my stomach, I jolt as though shocked by electricity. The smallest, finest hairs on my skin stand up, reaching for his fingers. He brushes his hand up my body, just barely touching me, and my breath shudders from my lips.
When he reaches my breasts I am ready to jump out of my skin. He licks one of his fingers and rubs it over my left nipple, making my toes curl. He lowers his mouth and with the slightest pressure, teases me with his tongue. I moan as he flicks, sucks, and nibbles at it. He takes his time, moving to my other breast. All the while his hand is stroking me up and down my stomach and sides so that it feels almost like two lovers are attending to me.
I close my eyes and allow Cole to explore my body. His mouth seems to kiss and lick every part of me. His breath and hands are so warm, opening me up and making me tingle in places I never knew could actually be pleasurable: my neck, my shoulders, my arms, hands, waist, thighs, behind my knees, my ankles.
By the time he reaches my sex, the tension inside me is a spring wound tight and aching to be released. I am hot and wet, breathing hard and hungry for him.
His tongue knows me better than my own fingers. He toys, caresses, and licks me in a way that makes me completely helpless. I become like water, sinking and rising; shuddering with the ripples that emanate from between my legs. My core pulses like a tiny heart, sending out heat that washes over my body.
I moan and pant, unable to control the sounds that come from my open mouth. “Don't stop,” I breathe. “Don't stop, don't stop.” It builds up inside me, and I can feel that pleasant itch that signals the beginning of my orgasm. Cole somehow senses it and stops, lifting his tongue from my center. I writhe around, begging him to keep going.
He starts again, bringing me to the brink, and then stopping just as before. I am almost in tears, and I thrust myself against his face. Finally, he grabs my legs and spreads me wide open for him. I feel myself about to come, and this time he doesn't stop. My whole body is charged with electricity, and when it explodes through me I fear I may pass out. I struggle to find my breath as wave after wave of intense pleasure rips through me. It’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had.
Tears are now streaming down my face, but there is a smile on my lips. It takes me a few minutes to fully come down. Cole lies beside me and strokes my forehead, kissing my cheek and neck.
“Why are you crying?” he asks, wiping a tear from my cheek. “I’m right here.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, trying earnestly to stem the tide.
A look of fear and worries covers his beautiful face. “I don’t know what to do. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
I shake my head no and bite my lip, looking into his soft blue eyes. I roll onto my side and wrap my arms around him. “I’ve never felt this before. It’s like I feel torn apart and healed at the same time.”
I’m both exhilarated and exhausted, but I want to please him, too. My fingers explore his smooth back, his strong thighs. I moved my hand enough to feel his rock hard cock. Now it’s Cole’s turn to lose himself. I can feel his heart racing. He sighs and groans as my fingers gently stroke up and down. I love the feel of his soft skin against his hardness. My hand moves more up and down, more confident with each stroke, each groan of pleasure he emits.
I plant a kiss on his stomach, right between his navel and his cock as I stroke his hardness, kissing my way down to it.
“Kenny,” he whispers, as I lick around the rim of the head, and grin when he sucks in a breath and his abs contract. “Fuck.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” I say and grin up at him.
“You breathe and I’m hard.”
He’s such a poet.
I plant a sweet kiss on the tip, right over the slit and then smile innocently, watching him, as I open my mouth and sink over him, pulling him all the way into my mouth. “Holy. Fuck. Are you trying to kill me?” he whispers, and I mentally high-five myself, clench my mouth around him and pull up, swirl my tongue around the tip and repeat the motion, over and over again.
He sinks his hands in my hair and gently starts to guide me up and down his hardness. I suck and lick, and suck and lick some more with each movement and continue the torture with my hands. I feel his balls tighten in my right hand, and I know it won’t be long before he loses control.
So I sink down on him as far as I can, until I feel him deep in my throat, and slip my finger down past his scrotum to that sensitive skin just underneath and I rub gently, making him crazy.
“Fuck, I love your mouth,” he mutters. He’s panting, slightly thrusting his hips against me. “Don’t make me come in your mouth.”
I smile to myself. Hell, yes, I’ll make you come in my mouth!
I move faster, harder. Suddenly, Cole lifts me off him and kisses me hard and deep. His kiss is desperate. “I haven’t been inside you in seventy-two hours, Kenny. I’m not coming in your sweet mouth.”
He rolls me over and pus
hes his fingers through my folds. I gasp when he brushes against my clit. “Oh, Cole.”
“That’s right. This is mine, Kenny. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
He pushes two fingers inside me and twists them, then pulls them out to wet my already swollen lips.
“So wet,” he mutters.
“Cole?”
“Yes, love.”
A chill runs up my spine at that word and I grin. “I really need you inside me.”
I hear him chuckle, and then we both gasp when the head of his cock brushes my sex. He gently pushes in, all the way. “Are you okay?”
“Oh God, yes. More than okay.”
“This is going to be rough, honey.”
His voice is tight as he starts to move, really move, frantically. He grabs my hair in one fist and slaps my ass with the other, startling me. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
“Oh my God, Cole!”
He pulls out suddenly and spins me onto my back to face him. I wrap my arms and legs around him, but he takes my hands and holds them both above my head with one of his, leans into me, and buries himself inside me again. “So good,” he mutters and pins me with his bright blue eyes. “Mine,” he repeats and then buries his face in my neck, kissing and biting and I feel my orgasm pushing up through me.
My legs tense and I push against Cole’s hands, but he holds strong.
“That’s right, let go,” he commands, and I do, hard and fast, spasming around his beautiful cock.
“Ah fuck!” His jaw is clenched and he throws his head back and falls over the edge with me.
He rests his forehead against mine as we recover. “Are we okay?” His eyes are sober, and he’s watching me closely.
“Better.” I kiss him. “Much better than okay,” I assure him.
“Good!” He leans across me and grabs something from the nightstand. He picks up the phone from the nightstand and pushes a few buttons.
What the hell?
“Um, Cole – what are you doing?”
“Room service,” he answers. “I’m starving.”
CHAPTER 27
IT IS STILL DARK IN THE ROOM WHEN COLE’S CELL PHONE ALARM BEEPS. I feel him stir, rolling over to stop its chime.
Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1) Page 38
