by Angela Blake
“Hey, you sure you’re okay here on your own?” Kayla asked as she got up. She had to leave and Dean was probably already at their meeting place, waiting for her.
“I know my way out,” Sofia answered. She then pointed to her lips and puckered, “Bye. Have fun.”
Kayla gave her friend a kiss on the lips then started getting dressed. She was actually going out on a date with Dean, something she thought they’d never do. She had assumed she’d just be the girl he comes home to but never sees. This was a nice change of pace from just having sex in his mansion.
When she was ready, she left Sofia in the bedroom and drove out.
***
The theater center was already packed. She found Dean waiting in line to buy tickets.
“Dean Marshall, waiting in a line like everybody else,” she commented as she walked up to him. “I need to take a picture of this.”
He laughed and handed her their popcorn, “You didn’t think all I do is work and screw girls, right? I do have a hobby outside the bedroom.”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” she replied and ate a handful of popcorn. “What movie are we watching?”
“It’s that new thing with George Clooney,” he answered, “a musical.”
Kayla’s eyes grew wide with excitement, “How’d you know I’d like this? I freaking love George Clooney.”
“Every chick loves George Clooney,” he told her. “Fortunately, so do I. You got everything ready at your place?”
“Yeah, everything’s boxed up.”
Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and hugged her closer, “How’s Sofia?”
“In our bedroom, watching shit on Netflix.”
“Using your account or mine?”
“Mine,” Kayla answered. “She’s been binging that show with Thandie Newton and Chris Pratt. I liked it but I only saw Season One so far.”
Dean hugged her tighter and asked, “How many seasons are there now?”
“Four,” Kayla answered. “I couldn’t continue watching because I diverted back to finishing up Game of Thrones. Then I started watching that weird sci-fi thing you recommended last night.”
“Firefly?”
She nodded, “I like it. The writing is really good but it’s kind of obvious that the budget wasn’t really up to par. It would’ve been better if they made it a few years later. Like a decade later.”
“You know the guy that made it made The Avengers movie right?”
“No freaking way,” Kayla commented. “That’s some cool trivia.”
Dean laughed in agreement and stood behind her, this time hugging her with both arms around her waist.
Kayla felt a warm sense of satisfaction begin to flood her senses as she stood in that line with Dean’s arms around her. She was actually happy and in a relationship, two things she never thought would go together. To make it even more amazing was the fact she achieved it with someone like Dean Marshall, the epitome of a rich, privileged bad boy.
She looked up at him and found him looking back at her. She knew deep inside he still had some secrets and issues locked away but those could be stripped bit by bit. She knew she could trust him now. She knew she had him. She loved him.
The line started moving and they made their way inside. As they walked into the darkness and to their seats Kayla let her mind drift into a well of peace. She was happy, she was content and she was not going to let this feeling go.
“Dean,” she called right as they sat down.
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
Dean hugged her tight, gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “I love you too. I do.”
That was all she wanted to hear. She squeezed his hands as they turned to the screen and watched.
THE END
The Alpha Male Collection
SWISH
Blaire
Blaire Hamilton wiped the sweat off his brow and squinted as he spat out the brittle collecting in the corner of his mouth. He hunched over, placed his hands on his hips and took a deep calming breath.
He just had the wind knocked out of him, that was all.
He just needed to get the air back in his lungs, so he waited for the searing pain he felt from within to subside before looking back.
While he waited, he knew he should take advantage of the situation and study the opposing team’s weakness.
They left one of their players open, and Blaire knew that in a few minutes once they let him back in the game, he would be able to take him out easily.
As the pain in his chest subsided, he leaned back and blinked to clear his vision. He had been so focused on the point guard, he didn’t notice the basketball that came flying out of nowhere and collided into him smack dab in the middle of his chest.
He was a bit winded, but he also really needed the time out to regroup and clear his head.
His head dropped forward, and he scanned the crowd, taking in the smell of stale sweat, freshly brewed popcorn, and he could almost taste the tension in the air.
This is why he loved being in the NBA.
The rush, the adrenaline, the lights, and how a hush fell on the crowd as all eyes turned to him. He loved taking stock of how people held their breaths in collective anticipation as he dribbled the ball, stood poised and then let it fly through the air knowing that in most cases, it usually landed with a final swoop causing the crowd to erupt into a frenzy of love and cheers.
Most people would find being center stage intimidating, but Blaire wasn’t like that. He relished it so much, and he had been working towards it for years. Pretty much since he picked up a basketball in high school.
At 27 years old, Blaire was the youngest player on the team, but he was scouted pretty much once he got to college. He just put it off so he could get a degree in History, which had always been a passion of his.
The scout was peeved at his decision, but knowing that players like Blaire only came along once in a blue moon, had agreed to hold off on making a formal offer provided he could still play as well four years later.
As soon as he graduated with a bachelor’s degree in History, Blaire had showed up, made a slam dunk and left the scout with his mouth hanging open.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Blaire stood up abruptly and began to stretch his muscles. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.
Need to get a bloody haircut, he thought to himself as he continued to stretch his muscles. Blaire’s blue eyes scanned the crowd nonchalantly as he idly wondered who he would pick up for the night. The team would probably be having a party afterwards, and he also liked to have female company. As his shirt rode up to reveal a finely taut stomach, he heard some of the women nearby sigh and mutter his name.
He turned around and gave them a quick wink as his eyes roamed over them. Too young, he thought as he dismissed them and eyed another potential group in the back who were waving and screaming frantically so he could notice them.
He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement and flashed them a row of pearly white teeth. His eyes immediately landed on a petite blonde in the middle who even from his vantage point had voluptuous curves and a nice rack.
She licked her lips suggestively, and he could immediately feel himself getting turned on just by looking at her. He mouthed the words ‘later’ and turned around before he got a massive boner that would make him unable to focus for the rest of the night.
A flash of chestnut brown hair caught his attention, and Blaire frowned as he saw the brunette walk by. His heart skipped a beat as he wondered for a moment if it was her.
Sienna Hummel.
He hadn’t seen Sienna since he graduated from college, and the thought of her being there had his heart anxiously skipping ten beats, as his palms began to grow sweaty.
He gritted his teeth and told himself to get over it. Sienna wasn’t here. There was no way. He had ended things once he graduated because he knew that Sienna wanted a nice quiet li
fe, and he wanted more.
He had loved her once, but he loved the sounds of girls screaming his name on and off the field even more. It was that thirst and lust for fame and the lifestyle that came along with it that drove him to end it; that, and her deception.
He shook his head to clear away the remnants of the past and turned around to find his team mate and best friend, Mark Berry come running towards him.
Mark ran his hands through his shaggy blonde hair, making it stick up on all ends. His green eyes scanned Blaire carefully, “Are you ready to be back in the game man?”
Blaire gave a swift nod, “More than.”
Mark gave him a grin before he shoved him towards the court, “Alright, I’m out for a few.”
He plopped onto the bleachers, and Blaire ran towards the center of the court where his team was huddled. They went over a strategy before calling out break.
Before the referee blew the whistle, Blaire cast his glance upwards once more and flashed the petite blonde from earlier a panty-dropping grin that had the blonde tighten her legs in response.
Blaire smirked at her response before turning his attention back to the game just in time for the referee to blow the whistle.
*****
Blaire took a swig of his beer as he made his way in and out of the throngs of people in the tightly packed space. Mark sure knew how to throw a hell of a party. And he never got in trouble with the neighbors who beat the hell out of Blaire.
Blaire was sure he could never get away with something like this despite being the MVP of their team.
“Great Job Blaire-out!” somebody called out from across the room. Blaire cringed at the use of the detestable nickname but called out a thanks to the man nonetheless.
They called him ‘Blaire-out' because he once accidentally tossed the ball so hard it caused one of the other players to black out mere seconds later. Blaire had freaked out, run over and dropped to his knees to check on the man’s pulse, but he was fine. The man was merely dehydrated, and a ball to the head simply didn’t help.
Blaire had breathed a sigh of relief and told the rest of the team, but they didn’t believe him. They still thought he could do what they thought he did. Blaire didn’t mind really because it earned him respect on the court, and it made women flock to his side thinking that he could make them black out because of a mind numbing orgasm.
While his sexual prowess wasn’t quite that intense, he did pride himself on being able to get a woman to scream out his name multiple times while he made them feel better than they ever had in their entire life.
He finally found his way back to the blonde-Hannah was her name-and he stood there a moment admiring her frame. She had changed out of the jeans and tight fitting shirt she had on earlier, and now she had on a skimpy pink dress that was so tight, her breasts were practically spilling out of it.
He felt himself growing aroused, but he still stood there watching as she tossed her blonde hair back and bit her lips. He didn’t like to rush these things. He liked to take his time, so that by the time they got to it, the woman would be begging him to take her.
The man Hannah was talking to saw Blaire, gave him a nod and moved out of his seat. Blaire nodded at him in acknowledgement before he plopped down onto the couch next to Hannah. She practically purred and pressed herself up against him as she breathed quietly down his neck.
“Do you guys always have parties like these?”
“Pretty much after every game,” he took a swig of his beer and brought his arm to rest on her shoulder. He idly traced patterns on her back and was happy to find that her body shuddered in response. He turned so he was facing her, and in one swift movement he had her on his lap. He casually placed a hand on her lap while the other toyed with the hair at the back of her neck.
He shifted and grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and placed it on her lap casually, so that his hand was able to move freely.
“I heard you studied History in college.”
Blaire chuckled as his hands lingered on the edge of her dress. She was trying not to show how affected she was, but he could see by the way she bit off the end of her sentence.
“Somebody’s been doing their research,” Blaire’s other hand moved below her dress and toyed with the straps of her bra. Hannah gulped as she placed both arms around either side of his face.
“I did study History, yes.”
“What was your favorite era?”
The hand that was hovering on the edge of her dress snaked underneath and began to rub her inner thighs. Hannah’s legs tightened in response, and Blaire grinned as he pressed a swift kiss on her neck, lingering there long enough to feel the goose bumps rise up and down her arms.
He pulled back. “I don’t have a favorite era, but I was quite obsessed with Scottish history.”
“Oh?” She tried to sound interested, but he could already see her brown eyes cloud over with lust.
“Oh, yes. Studying the highlanders and their riots was really quite interesting.”
“Interesting, yes,” Blaire’s hands had begun to move upwards and they rested just inside her thighs, but not anywhere near where Hannah wanted them to, and Blaire knew that.
He wanted her to be fully ready, so he pulled his hand away and moved it to her feet. He began to massage her feet while his other hand massaged her shoulders.
Hannah tried to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head.
“I also took a biology course,” he added nonchalantly as he captured her lips with his. Instead of deepening the kiss like they both wanted to, Blaire kept his mouth closed and steady, settling for a mere peck on the lips to keep her thirsty for more.
“What did you learn?” Hannah’s brown eyes sparkled as she gazed at him, clearly trying to figure him out.
“Well, there’s a vein in your neck,” His hand moved up and settled on the vein in question, “This vein sends out a lot of important signals to the brain, if this vein is severed, you die instantly,”
Hannah looked at him and blinked, confusion mirrored all over her features.
“This vein is also the most sensitive, so if I were to do this.” He placed his lips directly over the vein without touching it and simply breathed deeply. The result was instantaneous.
She shivered slightly as goosebumps erupted all over her body. “Your entire body will be affected,” he added as he placed a feather light kiss on the vein.
Hannah’s hands tightened on his neck, and she made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. Blaire stood absolutely still waiting to see what else she would do. She wriggled her hips suggestively, and Blaire bit back the groan as he cocked an eyebrow at her.
He stood up abruptly and gave her his hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, and I’ll give you a private lesson.”
“I’m sure you’re an excellent teacher,” she said flirtatiously.
They moved through the house until they found an empty room, and they stumbled into it, tearing each other’s clothes off as they fell onto the bed.
Blaire
Blaire groaned as he groped around for the alarm coming from somewhere underneath the pile of clothes. He cursed under his breath when he couldn’t find it and knew that if he just ignored it, the incessant shrill would simply grow louder.
He grumbled as he fumbled blindly for the alarm and finally found it wedged between a pair of old smelly socks. He attempted to switch it off in the blackness and instead ended up accidentally breaking it.
He stared at the broken alarm clock, shrugged and made his way to the blinds. He drew the curtains back and flinched against the sudden onslaught on his senses. Bringing his hands up to shield his bloodshot eyes, they traveled the expanse of the room looking for his pack of cigarettes.
He didn’t smoke often because it would be hard to breathe properly while he was in a game, but he liked to indulge every now and again, and this was one of those days. He was so hung-over, he could barely think straight, and not for the first time, he
wondered why people drank so much when the next day it felt like multiple hammers joined by a crew of men drilling holes into his head.
He picked up his pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips and fumbled around in his jeans for a lighter.
“The lighter is on the floor,” a husky voice said from the bed.
Blaire froze as he kept his eyes trained on the floor and tried to remember the name of the woman in his bed.
Think, he urged his brain as he racked it for a clue. Something with an H - Henrietta, Harriett.
Hannah, a voice in the back of his head screamed. His head snapped up. “Hannah, babe, why are you awake?” He strolled over to where she was laying down looking hot as hell and making Blaire reconsider getting to that photo shoot on time.
She pouted at him. “Don’t feel like round two?”
“Round two?” He chuckled as he twirled a lose strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger. “Baby, I’m pretty sure we reached round six or seven.”
He found the lighter underneath the bed and cupped the cigarette between his fingers while he tried to light it up. He exhaled deeply and let the smoke fill his lungs before he viewed Hannah through a cloud of smoke.
“Well, how about round eight then?”
Blaire considered carefully as he took a long drag of his cigarette and let the smoke out in O’s that flew right past Hannah’s face. She scrunched her face in annoyance, but he knew that she wouldn’t call him out on that. No woman ever did. They were too afraid he’d just up and leave. No woman, that is, except Sienna.
He shook his head to clear away the remnants of her ghost, and to answer Hannah’s question. “Sorry sweetheart, I’ve got somewhere I’ve got to be.”
Blaire found an ash tray on the table, and stubbed out his cigarette before turning around to give Hannah a brief wink. Hannah looked at him coquettishly, and he had to admit it made him feel very hot and bothered, but he made it a point never to sleep with the same person twice, lest they started to expect things, and this wasn’t any different.
