Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (29 page)

“He told me that you didn’t take the money.” I look down at her face. She is so close to me that I can feel her pulse quicken.

She swallows before speaking.

“I really do like you, Devlin. It wasn’t an act. It was all me, all real feelings,” she says slowly.

I scan her face and hands.

“I believe you.” I run a hand across the side of her arm, nearly lost in the enjoyable feel of her skin.

“Thank you, again.” The twinkle is there. A piece of the excitement that fills her and often spills over to me pops up into her dreamy eyes.

“There are other, more proper ways to thank me,” I tease, eyeing her thighs.

“I’m sure that you could think of a few,” she responds playfully.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her. “Yesterday, you were so—” I pause, attempting to think of a kind way to describe the unglued woman that I saw yesterday. “So sad.”

“I haven’t cried like that since my grandmother passed away,” she says solemnly. “I apologize if I scared you. I know that your mother—”

I stop her; she was turning the conversation back to me, and my history, and my past. She was being a psychologist, and not my girlfriend. My mother had enough problems for me to know the difference between when someone is overwhelmed versus being manic.

“I asked about you. How are you feeling?”

She squirms a little in my arms, as if talking about her is difficult.

“You have to let me in,” I protest. “Let me know about you.”

She passes off a weary smile. The light in her eyes is dimming again. I don’t want to see her cry. Her tears hurt me, but we cannot have a one-sided relationship, with her trying to ‘fix me’ while holding in all of her pain.

“I am not crying anymore,” she begins slowly before twisting in the bed.

“That I can see,” I remark and swipe my thumb across her plump cheek. “No tears there, but what’s going on here?” I ask, pointing to her head and then the left side of her chest.

She smiles.

“I don’t know if I will be able to afford a session with you. I’m currently a little low on funds,” she chuckles.

“Is that a problem?” I ask. “Do you need me to take care of a bill?”

“No.” She springs up in the bed with a look of contempt. “This is not about your money, Devlin.”

“I know that.” I tug at my worried woman’s arm and pull her back beside me. “But if I can help you, then I don’t mind.”

“I am worried about Ms. Agnes and her medical bills. I need office space. I didn’t have renter’s insurance, so everything that I can’t salvage, I will have to repurchase, but that’s after I find a new place to live,” she blurts, and I can see the tears welling up.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Let’s handle one thing at a time.”

I press a kiss on her wrinkling forehead.

“Agnes’s bill will be there; I bet they have some kind of payment or assistance plan.”

Ayron nods.

“And what about working with Dr. Tirash? I’m sure you can pick up hours at the hospital while you transition and open up your practice again.”

Her head bobs from side to side as though she is weighing the idea.

“Thinking about the facts only, without the emotion, can bring about clarity,” I repeat, remembering an earlier conversation we had.

Ayron’s head lifts and she rewards me with a smile.

“Using my own words against me, I see. That’s kind of sexy,” she says, lazily running her hand up the length of my arm.

Even that little touch turns me on. Everything about Ayron is sexy to me.

The soothing touch of her silky hand continues, hardening me and relaxing me at the same time.

“I don’t want you to worry about anything.” I turn in to face her, to get more of her touch. “You can stay here until you get your living situation together.”

Her stroking comes to an abrupt stop.

“I can’t ask that of you,” she protests with that damn crease in her brow returning.

“You didn’t ask it, I offered it. I want you right here with me, and if it makes you feel better, you can take a guest room.”

Her forehead smooths again.

“You would do that for me?” she questions.

“I would do anything for you,” I tell her, and mean it

Those puffy lips make me want to pull them into my mouth. She tasted so good the last time that she had been between my lips. She has become a craving, a need that I can’t go without.

“I have some conditions, though,” I explain, fighting back thoughts of placing my face in her pussy. She is so fine.

Her smile widens.

“Do you now?” she laughs. “Please do tell.”

“You have to be honest with me at all times,” I lay out. As much as I want to fuck her until she sees stars, this won’t work if I can’t trust her.

“From here on out, only the truth,” she says, looking directly into my eyes. “What else?”

“Don’t hold back. Don’t hide yourself from me. I want all of you.”

I hook her on top of me, pulling her taut, warm body over mine.

“You’re so beautiful.” I push a strand of her copper hair away from her face. Her eyes darken and I can’t resist kissing her.

Ayron responds by darting her slick tongue across the seam of my mouth, slipping it in quickly and moving it about with a confident passion. Damn, I need her.

Growling with want, I acquaint my hands with her body again, sliding the t-shirt up and off her body. She playfully raises her arms to let me remove it with a snap. The release of her amply blessed bosom enchants me. Gripped by a startling hunger, I roll on top of my shapely woman and release her bra for the feast. Her large brown breasts lie in wait, ready for the nuzzling. Her textured nipples are tasty against my tongue. I fill my mouth with as much as I can, enjoying the purr of her barely audible responses.

Her moan is melodic, a song of pleasure that commands my dick to attention. Her rocking body strokes against me and I want more of her.

I press against her pulsing well. Pajama pants and panties become a barrier to my desired goal.

“Off,” I whisper against her earlobe, tugging at the britches that block my entry.

Ayron hastily slides away her underwear, while I swiftly tear away anything covering me. I return to the beckoning spot atop of her.

Clasping her waist and pulling her sweet body against me, I rock into her lush opening. A searing shockwave of pleasure overcomes all thought and feeling and demands that I have more of her.

We move in tandem to the rhythm of desire, our pulse and pace increasing as though we are one.

“Devlin,” she calls, her sassy eyes glazed with passion. Locking her arms and legs around me, she guarantees that I never want to leave this place of ecstasy.

Her juices spill over as I drill into her core, the lubricated suction of her constricting pussy fueling my need to explode.

Looking to fulfill that primal need, we vibrate against each other, and I migrate my length to the depth of her. Growls escape. My control diminishes with each jagged thrust inside her walls. Time, space—all suspended.

“Baby. I can’t—I won’t last,” I groan.

Ayron’s pussy pulses with increased intensity, her heaving pants hot against my ear. Nails pierce my back. With her eyes clenched, she releases a piercing cry, trembling before a flood of her love hydrates my throbbing dick.

Teeth gritted, I smack into her one last time before satisfaction launches me through orgasmic spirals of pleasure. I fall against her, depleted and nourished.

“Damn,” I grunt.

The rub of her soft hand against my back skitters ripples throughout me that coincide with the orgasm aftershocks. I flinch against Ayron in response to the feeling, to her amusement.

Her laugh tickles my ear.

Kissing her neck, I roll over onto the bed.

Taking her breast as a resting place, I drift into a peaceful sleep. This is heaven.

C
hapter 19-Ayron

Sex with Devlin is like chocolate-filled joy, wrapped in bliss, then coated with hot pleasure. I can’t help but smile at the thought of him. His touch stays with me. I feel his hands probing me even when he’s not near me. After our initial condom-less run, he made sure to wrap it up for the follow up and review sessions and the quickie shower conference.

While good sex invigorates me, the great sex that Devlin offered catapulted me to life with energy. Devlin fell into a coma the second he pulled out of me. At nearly noon, we had only tasted each other, so I carefully peeled my body from his, threw on his t-shirt and padded barefoot through the expanse of his home to the kitchen with my cell phone in hand

He had asked me to stay with him. Stay here in his expensive home that looks as though it could be featured in a lifestyle magazine. I had never lived with a man, not even Lance.

Today, I don’t have many options. Money for a hotel is out of the question. I need all the savings that I have now—and plenty more to get a new place to stay and a new office.

Monique doesn’t like people in her space, which is the only reason that we are not currently roommates. But maybe there is hope—surely she would let me sofa-surf for a few days.

The last thing that I need from Devlin is pity. I need him to see me as a woman and not his project. Or maybe this is all sex to him. Maybe he just needs some in-house pussy. Then I would be exchanging sex for the solace that his home provides. That would be a tiny bit whorish.

I sigh. I need to do this on my own, without Devlin. I’m not sure what it is that we have, but I am positive that living together is not the next step. I don’t want him to feel obligated to invite me into his home because I am technically homeless.

With thoughts of the future pushing through my mind, I complete breakfast quickly, so I start on a pie. My grandmother engrained her recipes into my brain, and she made everything from scratch. With the use of the frozen peach slices that I assume Devlin bought for protein shakes, I have everything I need for peach pie.

Popping the pie into the oven, I set a timer on my phone and head to the living room to look at the fish.

I could get used to the beautiful surroundings. His home is decidedly male and minimal, but a few accessories could liven the place right on up. Sitting in front of the fish tank, I dial Monique, who answers on the third ring.

“Hey, girl. Did you get settled somewhere?” Over the phone, I hear a pop from what sounds like gum.

“Yes. I’m staying with Devlin for a couple of days, but I was hoping,” I pause, not sure how to ask, “I was hoping that I could occupy your guest bedroom for a few days when you return.”

“Twig, you my girl, but that spare bedroom is my workspace. I have a few jobs lined up from the contacts that I’ve met here. What’s wrong with staying with Devlin?”

I knew she would go there.

“Never mind, Mo. I knew it was longshot, but I thought I would ask.”

“I wouldn’t ever let you be out on the street, but—”

“It’s all right,” I cut her off. “I have a pie in the oven. I’ll call you back a little later.”

“Ayron, don’t—”

I end the call before she can finish the sentence.

I feel his hands before I see his face. They wrap around me and I feel evidence of his arousal press against my backside.

“Found you,” Devlin says, placing a kiss on my neck.

“We weren’t playing hide and seek.” I giggle from him kissing my neck.

“Well, maybe we should,” he suggests, sliding a smooth hand up my inner thigh to the center of me. “I can hide my fingers here, and you can seek a climax.”

Weakened by his touch, I fall limp against his hardness.

“Dev,” I pant when he moves my already wet panties to the side. “I can’t take any more.”

“Is that right?” he says against my neck, rocking his fingers against the wall of my center in a steady rhythm. “I can’t get enough of you.”

In a smooth motion, Devlin spins me around and mounts me against his waist.

I give into the sensations as he thrusts his naked body into me, his hardness filling me up.

In seconds, I am coming apart in his arms all over again.

* * *

T
he beautiful morning comes quickly
. After spurts of lovemaking throughout the day and night, my muscles ache and my pussy throbs. I stumble out of bed, still dressed in his large, white t-shirt. I had stopped putting my underwear back on. There was just no earthly use for them while I lay next to Devlin.

I wobble to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee.

Devlin will start work again today. The least that I can do is send him off with breakfast, since I will be staying here a little longer than I anticipated.

Thirty minutes later, the man who demonstrated the definition of passion greets me from behind with a kiss on my neck.

“Good morning,” he whispers in that rumbling, husky voice, nearly causing me to leak against my leg.

One man shouldn’t be allowed to be that sexy. He's wearing a sharp, three-piece suit. It's charcoal-grey and he's paired it with a crisp, white shirt and a black tie, knotted perfectly. What a strange sensation: he's back to being the commanding, perfectly in-control businessman. And yet, an hour ago he was naked, next to me, on top of me, perfectly in-control of my body.