Chet

I sat up in my bed, the satin sheets falling around me. I blinked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I crossed the long distance from my bed, across my room, and into my bathroom. After the boring, yet successful scrimmage yesterday, Dahlia was all I could think about.

Dahlia. I loved watching her take charge at the game yesterday. Our sports doctors always had issues with Russ. He was a little too much of an alpha dog for them. I couldn’t count on all ten fingers the number of times I had seen Russ get into a skirmish with a doctor at a game or otherwise. But Dahlia was different. It was like she didn’t even register him. She was just there to do her job. The focus was sexy.

As I brushed my teeth, the sight of her in that blouse and shorts yesterday possessed my thoughts. I had watched her sitting in that chair, leaning back, her voluptuous thighs spread, ever so slightly, apart. Her neck stretched, that head of gorgeous, auburn hair draped over that chair. I bit my lips at the sight of her cleavage, just visible in the v of her, otherwise conservative, blouse.

I turned off the faucet and stepped inside of my shower, turning on the rain and sitting on the ledge to wait for it to heat up. All the while, my mind was with her on that field, her healthy curves draped in those clothes. I felt a pulse in my cock as I thought about peeling those clothes off of her. I stood up and bent my head, letting the water wash down my shoulders and chest, as I got harder and harder.

Oh, when she bent down to pick up that bottle of water, I wanted nothing more than to grab a handful of that ass. I could just imagine what it would feel like in my hands, her body pressed against mine, wet from the water. Those perfect rose lips kissing my neck, my hands clutching her inner thigh.

I wanted to devour her…

***

That night, I was stuck on the inside of a rusty ballroom in my tuxedo, surrounded by the players on my team and the old men that owned them. I stayed glued to the bar, one arm resting on the marble bar top and the other brandishing a fresh bourbon-water. I gazed across the crowd, looking for someone, anyone that I actually wanted to talk to. These people were far from my peers. In fact, I didn’t have a lot of peers. My eyes danced around the tuxedos and dresses until I landed on my mother, who looked something like a sage in her dark green ball gown and her champagne glass held just so. Eck.

I kept looking.

It wasn’t long before I was empty. I turned around, signaling at the bartender for another one. He gave me a swift nod and freshened my drink. When I turned back around, my stomach fluttered with excitement, because there was Dahlia, wearing a black, floor-length gown that hugged her curves perfectly, her breasts bobbing around in that neckline like fruit ripe for my taking.

She looked stunning in the light; her plump lips sharpened with red lipstick. Once her hazel eyes caught mine, a smile stretched across her face that knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t believe I was so lucky. “Hello.”

She wagged her eyebrows at me. “Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

She smirked at that, leaning against the edge of the bar. “Do you make the guest-list yourself?”

I shook my head, taking a swig of my drink. “I have a secretary for that stuff.” I hoped it would impress her.

“Could I have a white wine.” She said to the bartender.

I raised an eyebrow. “How cute.”

She glanced up at me, a reproachful look in her eye, but said nothing.

“So, are you having fun?”

“Are you?”

I smiled at that. “Of course not.”

She huffed, picking up the wine glass the bartender had deposited. “Do you like any of these people?”

“I don’t know them. Not really. These things are like work.”

“Me too.” She took a sip of her wine. I watched her lips caress the edge of that glass, wishing they were mine. “I definitely don’t know anyone. I just started two weeks ago.”

“Right.” I turned to face her. “How do you like the company?”

She made a face, scrunching up her nose. “I hate that you call it that.”

“Why? Is that not what it is.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s exactly that. Only your product is human beings.”

I had never thought of it that way. But it made sense that she, being the doctor, would see it like that. “Aren’t we all a product, in a way? As a doctor, you’re selling yourself. But if you were in a hospital, you would be a negotiating tool; draw the customers in.”

She blushed at this. Either I said something right, or very wrong. “I’m helping people. It’s a service that’s essential to life.”

I pursed my lips. Something about her holier than thou aura rubbed me the wrong way. “And you think I’m not?”

She gave me an even gaze.

“Why do you think people turn on the game every Sunday? To watch admirable people excel at being human. It’s inspiring. And it makes their lives a little easier to stomach.”

She softened at this, leaning closer to me. Suddenly, it felt like she was the only person in the room. “Well, what about the lives of the players themselves? What do you care about them?”

I took another swig of my bourbon. “It sounds like you made a pretty unfavorable assumption about me.”

She blinked, a frown shadowing her face. “I didn’t mean it like that I-”

“It’s quite alright, love.” I turned towards the room again, my eyes falling on a group of athletes talking rambunctiously about something that must have been very funny. “My players are gold. That’s why you’re here.”

When I looked back at her, she was gazing up at me with those impossibly big eyes; her lips parted slightly. I wanted to slip my tongue in between them. Just then, I decided to just go for it. There weren’t any particular rules against some time alone… were there? “How about we go someplace more exciting?”

She gave me a half smile that got my dick half hard. “You can do that?”

I brushed my hand on her arm. God her skin was so soft. It took everything in me not to just take her right then and there. “I can do anything… love.”

But then, something happened. She cleared her throat and took one last big gulp of her drink. She set it on the countertop, then turned to face me, a determination in her eyes I couldn’t place. “Well, I can’t.” Then she started to walk away.

In a split second, I followed an urge and grabbed her arm. The touch surprised both of us.

She turned, her eyes landing first on her arm, then on me. “Good night.”

Before I could make another case for myself, she had made it halfway across the ballroom.

What did I say?