The Change Up

by Quinn, Meghan

  “Bullshit.” Linc laughs hard as Jason joins us, a water bottle in one hand, a protein bar in the other.

  “Do I look fat?” Jason asks.

  “What?” I ask, looking up from my sketch.

  “I think I’ve gained that marriage weight, you know?”

  “You know, I was going to mention a little chunk on you,” Lincoln says with an evil grin.

  Great.

  Now we’re going to deal with hysterics.

  “Seriously?” Jason asks, standing from his chair and lifting his shirt, showing off a six-pack.

  Shaking my head, I go back to my sketch and say, “Yeah, a real heifer.”

  “You’re not fat,” Cory says in an annoyed tone, joining the circle. “Jesus, Jason.”

  Jason takes a seat. “My pants feel tight. Every time I squat, I swear they’re going to rip in the back.”

  I curl my lips together, holding back my smile.

  “Dottie doesn’t think I’ve gained weight. She said I looked shredded this morning while she was bouncing on top of me.”

  “Details not needed,” Cory says.

  “I don’t understand.” Jason plays with the open flap of his baseball pants. “I had to undo these because they were cutting into my stomach.”

  Lincoln turns away, covering his mouth.

  “I haven’t changed my diet. I mean, sure, okay, I eat pussy more now, but that doesn’t have any calories.”

  “Jesus . . . Christ,” Cory mumbles, dragging his hand over his face. “Will you just tell him already?” Cory begs.

  “Tell me what?” Jason looks around, confusion written all over his face.

  I bury my head in my drawing while Lincoln pulls his shirt over his mouth to hide his laughing.

  “Tell me . . . what?” Jason asks, sitting taller now.

  Cory huffs under his breath and says, “The pitching staff has been slowly switching your pants out for smaller ones. I think they reached their limit today if you’re about to split the seams.”

  “What?” Jason roars out of his chair, peels his pants off his body, leaving him in just a pair of white boxer briefs as he looks at the tag. His eyes narrow and then his head slowly lifts up. “You mother . . . fuckers.”

  I can’t hold it back anymore and neither can Lincoln. We both bust out laughing, our heads falling back as we roar.

  Jason throws the pants at us that we bat away and he flops back in his seat, sinking into the cushions with a plop. “I can’t believe you made me question my figure; you know how hard I work on it.”

  Linc wipes at his eyes and says, “God, I’ve been waiting for this day. It’s felt like torture, but it paid off so well.”

  I reach over and we pound fists. “Totally worth it.”

  “Oh, just you wait,” Jason says, pointing at me. “I am going to make a spectacle at your birthday party tomorrow night.”

  “How is that any different than what you always do?” I ask, going back to my drawing and focusing on the curve of Kinsley’s smile, missing her, wishing I was curled up with her on the couch rather than sitting in a locker room full of testosterone.

  “I’ll make it even worse. I’ll . . . I’ll, hell, I’ll make out with you.”

  I shrug. “Okay, just wear ChapStick.”

  “I would pay good money to see you two make out,” Linc says, shaking his head.

  “That’s not creepy at all,” I say with a pointed look.

  Cutting in, Cory says, “I didn’t think you wanted a party.”

  “Kinsley’s idea. Couldn’t say no.” I highlight her eyes, adding an extra layer of black to her eyelashes.

  “She has him wrapped around her finger,” Linc says, pointing out the obvious.

  “I’m in love, what can I say?” It comes so easily, telling the guys I’m in love, as if I’ve always been this open and honest. I know a lot of it has to do with Kinsley and her easing this ball of tension that’s been twisting and turning in my chest for years.

  “I’m impressed,” Cory says, the wise one of the group. “You’re not even going to deny the fact that you’re whipped.”

  “As if any of you aren’t,” I counter.

  Linc raises his hand. “I’m not.”

  “Please,” Jason scoffs. “What about that girl you told me about last night. You were practically drooling just at the thought of her.”

  Cory smirks. “Have a crush on a girl, Linc?”

  “What? No,” Linc lies through his teeth. I’ve known the guy since the minors, and he’s been infatuated with this girl since college. “Just a friend . . . with benefits, but we haven’t talked in a while. It’s nothing.”

  “Anyway, he’s proposing soon, I can see it in his eyes,” Jason says.

  “You couldn’t be more wrong,” Linc says and then thumbs toward me. “If anyone is proposing soon. It’s this guy.”

  Jason and Cory both lift their brows in question. I shrug and continue to focus on the picture in front of me. “Wouldn’t be opposed to ring shopping.”

  “Oh damn.” Jason fans his face. “You just lit me up inside. Can I help pick out the ring?”

  Serious, I stare Jason in the eyes and say, “No.”

  * * *

  “Herman, stay, don’t move,” Kinsley whispers. “No, no, come back. Herman . . . Herman.” She groans in frustration, sets something down on the bed, and pads off down the hall. I keep my eyes closed because whatever she’s planning, I don’t want to spoil it. “Herman, it’s Daddy’s birthday, which means you need to give him your present yourself.”

  Daddy? Uh . . . not sure about that.

  Unless Kinsley is calling me Daddy, then I can get on board.

  “Now sit and be a good boy.” Herman snorts and I hear him lie on the ground. “That will have to do,” Kinsley sighs and then steps closer to the bed where she starts to rub my bare back.

  It’s Sunday, the day before we leave for a road trip, and of course, my birthday. Kinsley went to bed giddy last night with everything she has “planned.” Frankly, I’m nervous. I haven’t been doted on for my birthday ever since . . . well, ever since I left Woodland. Ever since I left Kinsley behind. Every year she always sent care packages and called. But actually having someone fawn over me like I know Kinsley is going to do, will be different.

  “Hey you, wake—”

  I roll over and snag her, bringing her down onto the bed with me and trapping her to the mattress, my body hovering above her.

  “Good morning, babe.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Were you awake this whole time?”

  “Maybe.” I smile and look down at Herman whose ears are pooling around his head. “Don’t call me Daddy to the dog.”

  Her cheeks redden. “I don’t call you that. Herman does. I don’t have the heart to tell him differently.”

  I roll my eyes and bring my mouth to her neck where I start kissing her. Already hard, I start to nudge her legs open when she stops me.

  “Hold on, we’ll get to that.”

  I glance down at my dick and then back up at her. “Babe, my cock is ready.”

  “Yes, I see that . . . and feel it. But just give me a few seconds, okay?” She holds up her fingers and I nod, because once again, I’ll give her anything she wants.

  On a heavy sigh, I let her roll away, and I lie back on the mattress, my cock aching. Standing again, she tightens the strap on the green silk robe she’s wearing and she spreads her arms out to the side. “Happy birthday, Maddox.”

  Despite my erection, I place both arms behind my head and smile at her. “Thanks, babe.”

  “Herman and I got you presents and we’d like you to open them. Can you sit up?”

  Doing as I’m told, I shift my body so I’m leaning against the headboard and my legs are stretched out in front of me. Kinsley hands me a present in a bag and says, “This is from Herman.”

  I look down at the floor and ask, “You got this for me, old man?” I reach into the bag and pull out a squeezable baseball. Chuckling, I squ
eeze it a few times but he does nothing. “Wow, he’s so overjoyed, we should calm him down.” I reach into the bag one more time and pull out a picture frame of Herman in my suit, with that droopy face of his looking beyond pathetic.”

  “It’s for your locker. Herman wanted you to remember him when you’re out there, getting ready to be the best daddy you can be.”

  Jesus Christ.

  “Why do I have a feeling Herman is never going back to the shelter?”

  Kinsley bends down to pet the old guy on the head and covers his ears. “How could you say a thing like that after he gave you such thoughtful gifts?”

  “My apologies.” I hold up my hands and set the gifts on the nightstand. “I wasn’t aware he was a permanent resident.”

  Kinsley rolls her eyes. “Who are you kidding? The minute he walked into this apartment, you knew he wasn’t walking back out.”

  Truth.

  “Denial can do funny things to you.” I reach down and pet Herman on the head. “Thanks, old man. I’ll hang the picture in my locker, just for you. Never say Daddy never did anything for you.”

  “Best friends,” Kinsley says with her hands clasped in front of her.

  I settle back on the bed and nod at her. “What’s your present? Is it you naked?”

  Kinsley picks up the other gift on the bed and holds the flat present to her chest. “Now buying you something is hard because you’re rich and can get whatever you want. So I put some thought into this.”

  “Babe, I just need you. That’s all I want.”

  “I know, but I still wanted to give you something. I hope you don’t think it’s stupid.”

  She hands me the gift and I open it up while saying, “Trust me, I won’t think it’s—” I stare down at the sketch pad and charcoal and then back up at her just in time to see her drop her robe to the ground, leaving her completely naked. “You said you always wanted to draw me naked, so, here you go.”

  I swallow hard, my eyes roaming her body, my fingers itching to pick up the charcoal. Yes, my dick might be hard and I might want to bury my head between her legs and make her come until she’s screaming my name, but that’s nothing compared to the need I have right now to draw her.

  “Seriously?”

  She nods. “Seriously.” She goes to the bedroom door, gently ushers Herman to the living room, and then shuts the door. “Where do you want me?” she asks, not looking the slightest bit insecure.

  My mind is spinning with ideas. I’ve thought about this moment so many times in my head ever since she moved in, and I keep coming back to this one pose.

  “On the ground,” I say in a gruff voice. “Looking up at me, as if I’m getting ready to spread your legs and enter you.”

  I watch as her chest starts to rise and fall more quickly.

  “Next to the bed?”

  I nod and throw down the comforter and a pillow to make her more comfortable. When she’s on the ground facing up, I get her in position, bending her knees and twisting her legs together. I drape an arm over her stomach and the other I position near her mouth and say, “Lightly pull on the corner of your lip with your finger. Yes, just like that.” I step away and stare down, my fucking fantasies coming true. “Fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”

  Sitting back on the edge of the bed, I open the notebook, grab a piece of charcoal, an aesthetic I’ve worked with before—but only when I’m home because of the mess I make on my fingers—and start sketching the curves of her body, focusing on the outline first.

  She doesn’t move, but stares at me intently as I sculpt and mold her body on paper. My fingers fly across the white space, streaking it in black, smudging the dark marks into lighter gray, swooping, curving . . .

  My mind goes blank as time disappears, leaving me with nothing but my beautiful girl staring up at me, and my hands making magic that no one will ever see. It’s for my pleasure only. I watch as her eyes grow heady, her chest expanding at a more rapid rate. I feel my crotch stir from her taut nipples, and even though I’m lost in the moment, it doesn’t stop my body from becoming more aroused.

  I swoop the charcoal around the paper, creating her breast and then I focus on her nipple, staring intently at her and then back at the page. I try to make the point as distinct as possible given it’s one of my favorite parts of her body. And then I move up to her lips, replicating the fullness. Her nose, how it has a perfect slope, and then her eyes, heady and yearning. And that’s where I stop. My hand pauses, my eyes connect with hers. We stay like that for a few breaths until I move the sketch off my lap and toss the charcoal to the side as well. I fall to the floor, on top of her, and she welcomes me with open arms. My mouth descends, and I capture her lips in one fell swoop.

  Her legs spread beneath me, and I lift up long enough to enter her. Once I’m inside, I push into her . . . slowly. I twist my hips, and she meets my thrust with her own. When we collide, it feels like goddamn magic.

  I push off the floor with my left hand and I bring my mouth to her breasts where I lap at them, pinch them, letting my charcoal-coated fingers mark up her porcelain skin.

  “Yes, Maddox,” she says in a breathless tone as her hips rock faster. “I feel all of you, every last inch.”

  “You’re perfect,” I mumble. “You’re so goddamn perfect for me.”

  I move back up to her mouth where I dive my tongue deep inside and tangle with hers. Sparks shoot through the backs of my eyes when I feel her clamp around me when I thrust in. I groan into her mouth and say, “Again, baby.”

  When I thrust, she clenches, and I nearly see God Himself.

  “Fuck. More, baby, every time.”

  I pound into her and she squeezes. I lift so I can watch our connection, so I can see me going in and out of her, observing her arousal coating my cock, see her pussy glisten in the early morning light. It’s sexy as fuck and when I make eye contact with her again, I can see she’s just as turned on from the sight.

  “I want you deeper,” I say, while I flip us over again, her on top.

  Her head falls back as my hands reach up to her tits. I squeeze them hard, causing her to fall forward, her hands bracing my chest. She gets on her feet, takes my hands in hers for stability, and starts squatting low over my cock, giving me a wide-open view of her pussy, and the perfect depth I was looking for.

  “Fucking hell, yes, Kinny. More, baby, more.”

  She bounces harder, her teeth rolling over her bottom lip, her blonde hair floating side to side, her tits jostling with her movements. So goddamn sexy.

  “Oh God, Maddox.” Her teeth pull at her bottom lip as I feel her tense, her pussy starts to contract around me, and she cries out as she spasms above me. My eyes are glued to her reaction as she continues to impale herself over my dick. It takes a few short seconds before my balls tighten, my skin crawls with pleasure, and a rocket is shot through me, ecstasy hitting me harder than I expected.

  “Oh . . . fuck,” I grunt while coming.

  “Yes,” she moans, then slows down and collapses on top of me. Our sweaty bodies press together, our breath mixes, as we both get our breath back. “Oh my God,” she whispers against my neck. “Maddox, that was intense.”

  “It was,” I admit. “I, uh, got lost back there, drawing you. It wasn’t until I saw your eyes that I was snapped back into real life and realized I needed you in that moment.”

  She draws small circles on my chest as she talks. “You have no idea how incredibly sexy you are when you draw. The intensity in your eyes, the concentration, it reminds me of you being on the mound, but in a different, more creative way. I was dying for you to touch me, but I didn’t want to break your concentration.” She kisses my chest.

  “You could have. I always want you to tell me when you want me.”

  She presses one more kiss to my chest and sits up. “Would it be okay if I asked you to join me in the shower?”

  My lips curve into a smile. “I can’t think of a better follow-up birthday present.”

  Cha
pter Twenty-One

  KINSLEY

  “You look really fucking good, Kinsley,” Maddox says as he holds my hand and tries to delay our arrival at the bar.

  After the game—which was a day game thankfully—Maddox came home, we had another bout of birthday shower sex, and then I got ready while he pawed at me the entire time. I dressed up more than usual, putting on a tight-fitting yellow dress, and layering on the mascara to make my eyes pop. I curled my hair into soft waves, and then topped the look off with some pink lipstick that looks amazing with my complexion.

  We pat Herman on the head, told him we’d be home later, and then we head to the bar where everyone is waiting for us.

  “Stop delaying.”

  He pulls on my hand again as we stand outside the bar. “It’s not too late. We can go back home and Netflix and chill.” He wiggles his brows.

  I curl into him and rest my hand on his chest. Pressing a kiss to his jaw, I say, “You’re going to have to give my vagina a rest. A few hours, okay?”

  “Do you need me to nurse it back to health? Because I’m good at that too.”

  “You’re hopeless.” I kiss him one more time and drag his grumbling ass into the bar. Luckily, they closed off the back for our group of friends, so when we arrive, they all shout happy birthday, loud enough for the patrons who frequent the bar to shout the same.

  Maddox gives everyone a quick wave and then shakes hands with his friends and offers hugs to their girls. I kept the invite list small, only the people I know, which means Jason and Dottie are here, along with Cory and Natalie and the single guy of the night, Lincoln.

  Once the hellos are out of the way, Cory hands Maddox a beer while Natalie gives me a vodka and cranberry. We all hold our drinks up and Cory says, “To our boy Maddox, the true rebel of the group.”

  We clink our drinks and take sips. Maddox squeezes in closer to me, holding me around the waist and not letting me stray too far.

  “Dig in,” I say to the group, motioning to the food ready to be eaten.