Clutch Player
Page 20
Harper groans in pleasure, spreading her legs farther open to give me better access. I hear the kids yell from outside, and not wanting to take a chance, I pull the freeze pop out, pick her up, and carry her to the guest bathroom.
After closing and locking the door behind us, I set her on the sink and spread her thighs. With the freeze pop still in my hand, I kneel in front of her, and starting at her ankle, I run it slowly up her leg. Goose bumps prick her flesh as she fists my hair.
When I get to her hot center, I push her swimsuit aside and spread her pussy lips apart. I glance up at her, our eyes locking, as I push the melting ice against her clit. Her eyes leave mine and roll backward, and I chuckle softly. I love the way Harper reacts to everything we do. She’s so open and willing.
“Play with your nipples, baby,” I demand.
She obeys. Lowering the front of her suit, she releases her perky tits from their confines and pinches her nipples.
Spreading her thighs farther apart, I push the freeze pop into her center. Not far, but enough that she moans at the coldness. I dart my tongue out and flick her clit, working her up until she explodes around my tongue.
Needing to be inside her, I take the freeze pop out of her, lift her off the sink, and flip her around. Harper pushes her bathing suit down, so it’s around her ankles, then lifts her perfect ass into the air as I pull my already very hard dick out. With a slap to her backside, I slam into her from behind.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her hands slapping the counter so she doesn’t fly into the mirror. “Yes, fuck me harder,” she begs.
Gripping her hips, I pull out slowly then slam back in. Harper’s moans get louder, which only spurs me on more. When I glance down, watching my cock slide in and out of her cunt, I get an idea.
“Do you have any baby oil?”
She gives me a curious look, but says, “In the drawer.”
I grab it from where she said and drizzle a few drops along the crack of her ass. Our eyes meet and she bites down on her bottom lip nervously.
“Only my finger,” I tell her.
She nods once, her gaze filled with curiosity and excitement. Fuck, I love this woman.
I pull my dick almost completely out of her and when I drive back in, I also insert my thumb into her ass. Harper throws her head back, moaning the loudest I’ve ever heard.
“Holy shit,” she groans. “Do that again.”
I pull my dick and thumb out, then thrust them back into her at the same time. Only this time I don’t stop. I fuck her perfect cunt while fingering her tight ass. Our heated flesh slapping against each other.
I can tell when she’s about to come again because her pussy clenches around my dick. Wanting to come with her, I pound into her harder, deeper, until we’re both moaning out our orgasms. I’ve only just spilled my seed into her when someone bangs on the bathroom door.
Harper jumps in shock, at the same time I pull out of her. She quickly bends to pull her bathing suit up, but in her frantic state, she miscalculates where the edge of the sink is and bangs her head on the marble countertop.
“Ahh!” she screams in pain. The doorknob jiggles open, and I quickly stuff my dick back into my board shorts before helping her put her suit back on.
“We’ll be right out,” I yell to whoever is out there, praying it’s one of the adults and not one of the kids.
When Harper turns around, there’s blood pouring out of her forehead. I grab a couple tissues and press them against the cut, then unlock the door so we can face the music.
I open the door, and standing on the other side is thankfully neither of her kids, but her ex-husband.
“Were you guys seriously fucking in the bathroom?” he hisses. “Where the hell are my kids?”
“Harper’s hurt,” I growl, helping her walk over to the couch so she can sit down.
“You talk all this shit about me, but you’re so fucking irresponsible,” Dick continues, ignoring me. “What kind of mom fucks some guy in the bathroom with her kids around?”
“Stop! Did you not hear me? She’s hurt.” When she lifts her head and I remove the Kleenex, it doesn’t look as bad as it did a few moments ago. “I don’t think you’ll need any stitches.”
“What the hell happened?” he asks, stepping in front of her. “Let me see. I’m the doctor.”
I consider telling him to shut the fuck up, but he’s right. He is a doctor, and we need to make sure Harper is okay.
“I’m fine,” Harper says as Richie kneels in front of her.
“Grab me a wet washcloth,” he instructs.
I grab one from the kitchen and bring it back to him. As he wipes the blood from Harper’s head, he says, “You’re going to have a bad headache. You need to take some pain reliever.”
Harper nods.
“Do you still have the first-aid kit here?” he asks softly, a side of him I’ve never seen. I only knew him for a short time in high school, but he was never soft-spoken. He was a dick. Plain and simple. But watching how quickly he went from calling Harper an irresponsible mom to caring for her, I can see how they lasted as long as they did. He knows how to play the game.
“It’s under the kitchen sink,” Harper says. “On the right side.”
I grab it from where she said it was and hand it to Richie. He opens it and pulls several things out. For the next few minutes, he works quietly, bandaging her up. When he’s done, he gives her a soft smile—as if he wasn’t earlier calling her names—and tells her he’ll check it when he sees her later in the week.
“Speaking of which…” she says, her lips pursed together. “What are you doing here?”
“I came by to see the kids,” Richie says, standing. “I had the afternoon off and Ella texted me asking to come over and see her balance beam.”
“Next time, you need to call,” Harper says, standing as well. “We already talked about this the other day and I told you no.”
“And then Ella asked me to come over and I couldn’t say no.”
Harper snorts. “Whatever… Are you taking the kids Monday night?”
“That should be fine,” Richie says.
“I have an appointment. I can’t deal with that should be fine. Either you can or I need to ask someone to pick them up from camp.”
“I thought camp was over,” he says, and Harper rolls her eyes.
“Baseball and gymnastics camp is. Next week is sports and dance camp.” I love how involved Harper keeps her kids. They never have any time to be bored and get into trouble.
“If you need someone to get them, I can,” I tell her.
She glances over at me and smiles at the same time Richie glares.
“Their parents have it covered,” he says.
“Don’t be a dick,” Harper says. “Thank you, Landon.”
We step outside and Ella spots her dad right away.
“You can go see her balance beam, but then you need to go,” Harper says quietly.
“Everything okay?” Bridget asks, as we sit back down at the table.
“Oh no!” Heather says. “What happened to your forehead?”
Harper’s face and neck turn a bright shade of red as if it’s just hit her what happened inside. “I’ll tell you guys later,” she mumbles.
My phone rings, and when I look and see it’s a number I don’t recognize, I excuse myself to take the call.
“Hello, is this Landon Maxwell?”
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“My name is Tricia Bartlett. I’m sorry to be calling on such short notice and on a Saturday, but Mr. Emerson, the hiring director of ESPN Providence, has asked me to call you in for an interview on Monday. We were told you turned down the position in Boston.”
“I did,” I admit. “I was planning to go back to Boston after this summer, but my situation has changed. Getting a job in Providence would be perfect as I’m planning to put down roots here.”
“Great,” she says. “We’ll see you Monday. Is two o’clock okay?”
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br /> “Sounds good. Thank you.”
We hang up, and when I turn around, I find Richie standing behind me with a murderous expression on his face. “You should take the job in Boston,” he says.
“Oh? And why is that?” I place my phone back into my front pocket.
“It’s where you played.” He shrugs, taking a step forward. “Besides, once I have my family back, there’ll be no reason for you to be here.”
I almost laugh at how crazy he sounds, but something tells me he isn’t joking. He fully intends on getting his family back. Harper told me he and his fiancée have called it quits.
“You have your family,” I say, refusing to let him get to me. “Those two kids out there love the hell out of you.”
“You know damn well what I mean,” he hisses. “Harper.”
“Harper isn’t yours. I don’t know what happened all those years ago, but by some miracle you got the girl...” Harper and I haven’t talked about it—at my request—but now I’m wondering if maybe we should. I wanted so badly to just look toward the future, but maybe I need to know what happened, so the battlefield is a little more even. I can’t fight if I don’t know what I’m up against. “You should’ve worked harder at keeping her. Now she’s given me a second chance, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.” I step around him without waiting for him to respond, done with this conversation.
Twenty-Five
Harper
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Bennett, this is Annabelle calling from Dr. Bennett’s office.”
I cringe at the use of my ex-husband’s last name. When I filed for divorce I had my last name reverted back to my maiden name, Peters, but every time he has one of his nurses call me he always tells them to call me by his name. I always correct them, but it’s as if they don’t even hear me.
“Hello, Annabelle.”
“Dr. Bennett asked me to call and let you know that he’s been scheduled for an emergency surgery and he’s not sure how long he’ll be. He’s not going to be able to pick the children up from camp.”
Damn it! Of course he’s not. I knew better than to count on him.
“Okay, thank you,” I say before hanging up. I glance at the clock and see it’s a quarter to four. There’s no way I’ll make it to my doctor’s appointment and to get the kids on time. I could call Bridget, but her son isn’t attending the camp, so I don’t want to drag her out with three kids to pick mine up.
Remembering Landon had offered to pick them up, I give him a call. The phone rings and rings and then goes to his voicemail. Whelp, that’s not happening.
When I get to the light, I make a U-turn so I can head to get the kids. “Call Dr. Stein,” I say into my Bluetooth. After going through the prompts, I finally get a human. “My name is Harper Peters. I have a four o’clock appointment, but I have to cancel.”
“Okay, Ms. Peters, when would you like to reschedule for?” Not able to look at my calendar while I’m driving, I tell her I’ll have to give her a call back.
I make it to the rec center only a few minutes late, thankful their camps are in the same place this time around. After asking them how their day was, we head home.
I’m in the kitchen, making lasagna for dinner when my phone rings.
“Hey,” I say to Landon, pushing the ground beef around in the pan as it browns.
“Hey, baby, I missed your call. I was in a meeting and had it on silent. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I set the spatula down and open the fridge so I can grab the ricotta cheese. “I had to cancel my appointment. Richard bailed.”
“Shit,” Landon curses under his breath. “I’m sorry. I told you I could pick them up.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s mine for believing he would actually stay true to his word. So, what was your meeting for?”
“Where are you? I was thinking we could go out to dinner to celebrate. I have some good news.”
I glance at my half-cooked meat. “I’ve already started to make dinner, but you can come over.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says before hanging up.
I’m just setting the table for dinner when there’s a knock at the door and then a second later Landon walks through the door, impeccably dressed in an all gray suit. He spots me in the dining room and his face breaks out into a wide grin. My stomach clenches as I imagine forgetting dinner and instead, making a meal out of him. As if he can read my thoughts, his smile curls into a cocky smirk and he mouths later.
“Landon!” Ella yells, running down the stairs. “Want to go outside on the balance beam with me?”
“We’re about to eat, El,” I tell her. “Go tell your brother dinner is ready.”
When I hear her running up the stairs, I grab Landon by the lapels of his jacket and pull him into me for a kiss. “Two suits in one week… I might have to request you wear them more often,” I murmur against his lips.
Landon chuckles. “I had an interview today. That’s actually where I was when you called.”
An interview?
“I thought you were retired.”
He laughs. “Yeah, from baseball. My shoulder was giving me too many problems. But I’m still young. I can’t just sit at home every day.” He shrugs.
“Hey, Landon!” Hunter walks into the dining room and fist bumps Landon. Hunter’s wearing his jersey and ball cap Landon bought him while they were at the game yesterday with Brendan, Brian, and Simon. “Hey, man, how was sports camp?” Landon asks him, taking a seat next to me at the table. Hunter and Ella sit next to each other, across from us.
“It was fun, but I’d rather do another week of baseball camp.” Hunter grabs a couple rolls from the center of the table and butters them. “They make us play all sports.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Landon says. “I loved playing basketball in high school.”
“I guess, but I’d rather spend my time on baseball.”
“I loved dance camp,” Ella announces. “I learned how to dance to hip hop. When we’re done eating, can I show you guys?”
Landon laughs and Hunter groans.
“Of course you can,” I say.
After a few minutes of everyone eating and making small talk, I remember Landon had an interview today. “Where was your interview?” I ask.
Landon beams. “With ESPN. I’ve been offered a sports commentating position here in Providence to make guest appearances as well as occasionally host my own show.”
“Like Mike and Mike?” Hunter asks, referring to his favorite show on ESPN that was canceled a couple years back.
“Yeah, kind of,” Landon says. “But I won’t have to go in every day. I’ll pretty much show up and talk baseball on the different shows whenever they want me to, giving my opinion.”
“If I don’t make it into the Majors, that’s what I’d want to do,” Hunters says. “Getting to talk baseball every day… that’s the life.”
Landon nods and laughs. “Yeah, you can go to college for broadcasting.”
“So, you’re living here for good?” I ask. He mentioned he was here to spend time with his brother and his family, but he never said if he was actually living here for good.
“Would that be okay with you?” he asks, turning the tables on me.
“Of course it is. I just assumed you’d eventually go back to Boston since that’s where your life is.”
Landon chuckles softly. “Actually, my life’s right here.” The way he says it, I want to believe he’s referring to us, but I’m afraid to ask. It’s too soon to be having that deep of a conversation, right? So instead, like the chicken I am, I change the subject.
“Hey, Hunter, your birthday’s coming up. What kind of party do you want?”
Hunter groans. “C’mon, Mom, I’m turning thirteen. Teenagers don’t have parties.”
Dear Lord, please make him stop growing up…
“Then what do they do to celebrate?” I ask.
“I don’t kn
ow.” He shrugs.
“Well, we have to do something.” I’m nowhere near ready for him to stop acknowledging his birthday.
“I guess I could have my friends over and we can hang out,” he suggests, not realizing he’s breaking my heart. Moms live for celebrating the holidays with their kids, and that includes birthdays. He needs to go back to being eight and wanting a Harry Potter birthday party.
“Hang out?” I clarify. “That’s hardly a celebration.”
“I’m not a baby anymore,” Hunter points out.
“I have an idea,” Landon says. “How about you pick a few of your friends and we’ll go to the Reds stadium to get a tour and practice with the guys. Then afterward, we can come home and do pizza and cake with your family.”
Hunter’s eyes light up. “Are you for real?”
“Yeah,” Landon says with a nod. “We can plan it for a weekend when the team is home.”
I glance over at him and mouth thank you, and he shoots me back a wink.
Once dinner is done and the dishes are washed, Ella drags us into the living room. After setting up the music on her phone and moving the coffee table out of the way, she hits play and proceeds to show us her new moves. Of course, while she’s dancing, she also makes it a point to add in some of her gymnastics moves. When she’s done and turns the music off, everyone claps.
“That’s really good,” Landon says. “At this rate, one day we’re going to see you in the Olympics.”
Ella giggles. “I’ve been doing gymnastics and dance since I was a baby. Right, Mom?”
“That’s right. She’s always had rhythm. Even when she was a toddler, she would stand against the couch and shake her tiny little butt to the music I would play while I was cleaning.”
Ella laughs. “Oh! Can I show Landon the pictures?”
“Sure.”
Ella runs over to the bookshelf and pulls the box of photo albums down. She grabs it and brings it over to the couch. As she’s shuffling through each one, trying to find what she’s looking for, a couple of older photos fall out. “Who’s this?” Ella asks curiously.
When I take a look at the photo she’s referring to, my stomach drops. “Her name was Melissa,” I say softly. “She was a…” I clear my throat. “She was a friend of mine in high school.”