I first saw Zane Powers when I’d allowed my best friend Izzy (Isabel Smith, to be exact) to talk me into attending a baseball game at the University of Washington where I was majoring in oceanography with a minor in psychology and she was majoring in, well, who knew. She’d gone from fashion design to accounting to teaching and had subsequently been flirting with changing to an MRS degree because she was dating the pitcher who was on the mound at the time and she was head over heels in love.

“Isn’t he hot!” she squealed—Izzy was definitely a squealy-type person—waving and pointing at her pitcher boyfriend from where we sat on the front row of the first-base side of the stadium.

I only nodded because, yes, Kaleb was cute, but I’d been a bit obsessed with the first baseman’s butt. And, believe me, it was one fine behind.

I was still staring at said booty when the batter of the other team hit a grounder right to Mr. Fine Behind who, while keeping one foot on the base, reached out and snagged the grounder, effectively getting the third out of the inning. And making his backside look even more spectacular.

While the crowd went wild and I stared in adoration at those fabulous glutes, MFB turned, smiled up at the stands, then eyes meeting mine gave me a wink and tossed me the ball. I stood to catch it, then remembering I couldn’t catch, fumbled it, dropping it out of sheer shock since, first of all, Nice-Ass-First-Base-Dude had given me his dazzling smile, secondly, I was not sporty at all and third, about ten other people had lunged to grab it, totally shaking me up.

“Oh my God! He smiled at you!” Izzy screamed. When I stood there gaping at her, she yelled, “Go get it!” prompting me into gear and scrambling to pick up the ball which I realized had gone under my seat and rolled two seats to my left, to where I ended up kneeling in front of an elderly gentleman to retrieve it. I’d smiled sheepishly at him as I reached between his legs to get my prize—Oy—and when I’d stood, the crowd had cheered for me, motivating me to uncomfortably hold the ball up at them and wave it reluctantly which only got me more of a roar.

Dear. God.

I sat back down and pulled the borrowed purple UDub cap Izzy had made me wear lower over my eyes to hide my mortification.

“Zane Powers noticed you, Jilly Bean!” she screeched excitedly, her smile a mile wide. I nodded disconcertedly, crouching farther down into my seat, knowing that my long tri-colored hair of pink, seafoam green and blue had probably done the trick in making this Zane Powers, obviously a crowd favorite, pick me out, but whatever. “You’ll have to find him at the party tonight and thank him!”

I looked down at the ball in my hand wondering why everyone was going nuts over it. I mean, I got why Izzy was, her dating Kaleb and all, and sure, the Powers guy was a good player. But why was everyone acting as if he’d ended world hunger by tossing me the ball?

“Make sure to get that signed then put it on your mantle,” a guy behind me leaned down to say. At my questioning look over my shoulder at him, he explained, “They’re going to the College World Series if they can get through this last inning. Then Powers will go pro.”

“Oh,” I uttered with a stupid nod then shared, “I read somewhere that only about ten senior college baseball players out of two hundred go pro. When you take a team of thirty players, let’s say seven of them are seniors, and there are, what, around three-hundred division one colleges, not counting the other two divisions and jucos, which means each of them has less than a quarter of a percent chance of making it to the pros.” At his dumbfounded look, I shrugged, embarrassed as hell because when I got nervous, I tended to blurt all kinds of useless information, mostly stupid stuff. And where I’d gotten that last bit of information, who knew? Probably from overhearing some guys in a class at some point. Yeesh.

Finished sharing my buzzkilling information, I turned back around and dropped the ball into the huge tote-bag purse I always carried. I glanced at Izzy and shrugged again at her admonishing look as if I’d just spoiled that guy’s every hope and dream.

When she turned to beam at Kaleb who was warming up to bat, I asked, “Powers?”

“Yes!” she said, grinning. “Zane Powers, the first baseman! He’s really good and will probably go pro like that guy said, so you should bag him and you’ll be rich!” At my raised eyebrows and tilting of my head in a get real way, she was reminded I came from money and giggled out an, “Oh, yeah.” Then came her squeal of, “But you should still go for him! He’s hot!”

Not wanting to explain for the eighty-bazillionth time that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, I let out a sigh as I watched the other team take the field. I wasn’t a snob by any means, but Izzy knew I had standards when it came to dating, a brain being my number one requirement. And since most twenty-something guys seemed only to have their brains between their legs, I’d decided to bypass dating for now, figuring that in a few years I’d find someone in his thirties who’d matured a bit and we’d go from there.

Anyway, our team did get through the last inning and were on their way to the Series the next week, hence the huge party she’d talked me into attending afterward.

At Izzy’s place we got ready, and along with a pair of mint green shorts, she made me wear the silver chainmail halter top I’d bought the summer before, which I’d been dying to wear but had had nowhere to do so until now.

“That’s adorable on you!” she exclaimed. “The silver goes with your hair, makes you look truly mystical. It also makes your eyes pop like crazy. Or is that the eyeshadow?”

“Eyeshadow,” I informed with a chuckle, inspecting myself in the mirror one last time. I’d loved makeup since my pseudo-emo phase in high school. I hadn’t really been emo. I just liked dressing that way, everything from the makeup to the highly-embellished wardrobe, which had flummoxed my mom and been great. From the phase, I’d learned some kickass eye makeup techniques that complemented my sky-blue eyes. Therefore, I’d now brushed on a mixture of dark blues and greens which I had to admit looked fabulous and did make my eyes stand out.

“You look amazing,” I told her, making her squeal—again—excitedly.

But Izzy really was a gorgeous woman, her wavy, blond shoulder-length hair looking quite lovely against the sheer chiffon, navy blouse she wore over a white camisole, and her white shorts making her legs look really tan. She too came from money but not eye-roll-inducing New York old money. Her parents owned ten high-dollar furniture stores across Washington State and Oregon, the one here in Seattle being the one Izzy worked at, and from what I’d gathered from their talk, they weren’t quite as wealthy as my parents but were probably somewhere close. They were also the nicest people, Golden Retrievers to my parents’ Pit Bulls.  

After inspecting ourselves in the mirror one last time, we headed to the block party. Yes, block party. Kaleb and several of the other baseball players rented houses along the same street, so we knew the party was going to be frigging huge.

“You should find Zane Powers tonight. I mean, Kaleb said he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he did pick you out of that huge crowd, Jilly Bean,” she said as I drove through Kaleb’s neighborhood looking for somewhere to park.

“He’s a jock,” I mumbled.

She knew I meant her no offense by this. She dated a lot of jocks and we’d been over it before with her finally conceding that some athletes weren’t too into the academic scene.

“Kaleb said he’s pre-law.”

That got my attention. “Yeah?”

“Uh huh.” She nodded and giggled at the same time knowing she’d piqued my interest. “Besides, how long has it been since you got laid? He could be a summer fling!”

She had a point since it had been almost a year since I’d been with anyone.

“You’re leaving in a couple days, and he’s a senior so odds are you won’t see him again once you get back, so what would it hurt to get some?”

I snorted. “Since you make it sound so enticing…”

She reached over and squeezed my hand on the steering wheel as I parked. “I’ll miss you so much! Did you find out if your parents will be home?”

I was leaving in two days for the Chesapeake Bay area where I’d spend the last three weeks of June and all of July on a paid internship I’d gotten through the oceanography department at school. I was so excited to go, I’d had my bags packed for a week now. When I’d called my parents, who still lived in the New York City penthouse I’d grown up in in Carnegie Hill, thinking maybe we could get together, they’d informed me they’d be gone on their summer vacation. “I’ll miss you too! And, no. They’ll be doing the whole Milan, Tuscany and Rome thing again. I’ll probably be too busy to do much else anyway.”

As we’d gotten closer to the party, we’d seen tons of people milling around everywhere, already imbibing in the various adult beverages that were being offered. It was so crowded, I’d had to park a couple blocks away.

“Come on! I’ve gotta go congratulate Kaleb!” Izzy said, wiggling her eyebrows at me and making me frown a little. “I won’t leave you stranded, JB. We’ll party first, but you can leave whenever you’re ready. I’ll get a ride home.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing her MO as well as I knew anything about her. She’d find Kaleb, we’d all three hang out for about twenty minutes before they disappeared to “celebrate,” leaving me to fend for myself. But, honestly, it really wasn’t a problem since I was a big girl and didn’t need her by my side, and anyway, over the years, I’d grown used to her making sure her boyfriends knew she was happy they’d won their game/match/set/whatever.

I’d met Izzy our freshman year and we’d quickly become friends. She’d been in my Comp I class and had asked for help on a paper over the environment, which I’d been all over since, hello, oceanography major and tree hugger here. After attending too many parties with her over the past two years, I’d come to terms with her methods when it came to her guys—Kevin who’d been a linebacker for UDub’s football team, then Ben who was a wrestler and now Kaleb the pitcher, all of whom she’d loved hard, she was an all-or-nothing chick and I respected that—but the girl was also crazy over athletes and with every win, she made sure to let them know they’d done well.

 I was more than okay with her dating athletes because who doesn’t love looking at hot, muscular, in-shape guys? And other than feeling abandoned at times, I was good with her leaving me alone at these parties because I was a people person in that I loved watching them, hence my minor in psychology. Therefore, I’d usually grab a couple beers and find somewhere to sit and watch. Then after getting my fill of observing the mating dance of the potential hookups around me, or witnessing the buildup of two dudes drunkenly courting one chick and eventually fighting over her, I’d finally leave and go back to my apartment alone, perfectly content.

So that night, everything went as expected. We found Kaleb who I congratulated on the win, then fifteen minutes later, he and Izzy vanished. I snorted at their predictability before going in search of my people-watching place, and after walking across two lawns, dodging many flirty, inebriated guys, I found a cozy place on a porch where I took a seat on a gliding bench. A guy then came up the steps, plopped a huge ice chest down on the porch next to me, stated that I was in charge of it and to drink all I liked then he’d smiled drunkenly before grabbing six Elysian Immortal beers—jackpot!—out of it, three in each hand, and wandered off leaving me set for the night. I had good beer and a great place from which to employ my human ogling.

Over the next hour, a few guys came by who commented on my hair—mermaid hair was what it was called—so, of course, they’d asked if my name was Ariel, which I’d grown accustomed to and had chuckled right along with them, not at all upset because I loved my hair. Several other guys came up and sat in the glider next to me, chatting me up for a bit, then an argument would break out on a lawn somewhere and they’d take off to watch the fight, or a girlfriend would come by giving them the eye, and they’d excuse themselves.

Now, I have to explain, I wasn’t a social pariah by any means. I liked people and I had a lot of friends. I’d dated a few guys my first year at UDub but had found that when it came to spending time with someone, as I mentioned before, I was kind of picky. I mean, I wanted to be with someone who not only knew who Melanie Klein or Sylvia Earle were, but they cared about the environment, were passionate about the field they were studying, could converse about a wide variety of subjects and knew what kind of beer was the best, that last of which would serve to win them major brownie points with my dad if we happened to get serious. I wanted someone well-rounded. Someone who challenged me, you know? Kept me on my toes. But I’d quickly found that college parties weren’t the ideal place to find that person, which, duh. But it wasn’t a big deal because, again, as stated before, I knew college guys were mostly about having fun. So, yep, I was perfectly fine drinking my beer and studying everyone around me before calling it a night.

Until I heard a deep voice that, I swear, made my insides shiver with need. Gah.

“You here alone, Yogi?”

I looked down to see Zane Powers himself, arms resting atop the porch railing which meant he was taller than what I’d thought. I myself was fairly tall standing at five-nine barefooted, so I figured he had to be at least six-four, tall enough for me to wear heels. Yes!

I inwardly rolled my eyes that I’d even gone to the “could I wear stilettos if I dated him” query because I knew I wouldn’t be pursuing anything with him.

Anyway, looking into the handsome star baseball player’s amber eyes, I frowned and said, “Yogi?”

“Berra. Famous catcher. Yankees.” At my questioning look, he went on. “’It ain’t over till it’s over’? ‘It’s like déjà vu all over again’?” He saw the light bulb go on in my head. “See, I thought you’d know him.” I did but I was still puzzled as to why he’d call me that. “You caught the ball today? He was a catcher.”

Oh. Soooo, remember all that stuff I said about a guy needing to be able to have good conversation and all? Yeah, maybe I should’ve taken my own advice. Ergh.

“Would you like some company?” he asked with a grin, a dimple popping out in his left cheek.

Feeling my heart begin to beat faster because, good lord, he was handsome, then biting my lip, I shrugged. “Sure.”

He grinned even bigger making that dimple deeper, and I watched him stroll to his left then walk up the porch, his athletic body strong and powerful, the sleeves of his white button-down shirt rolled up to display thick, vascular forearms (it must be said now, I was a forearm girl, so wow!) and the outline of his muscular thighs showing through his medium-wash jeans all almost made me swoon.

“May I?” he inquired when he got to the glider.

I scooted over a bit and nodded again, his entire presence making me mute. But I reminded myself that any minute he’d open his mouth and expose himself to be the dumb jock he surely was.

He sat, then nodded toward the ice chest. “Guess you took the BYOB thing pretty seriously, huh?”

 I snorted out a laugh. “No, some guy put it here and told me to guard it with my life,” I teased. “But he did say I could have all I want, so would you like a beer?”

“Depends on what it is,” he stated, eyebrows raised.

I opened the lid and pulled out a beer, handing it to him.

“Elysian Immortal. Dude’s got good taste,” he said with a wink, and twisting off the top, took a drink while I stared at his lips on the bottle.

Sweet Mary, he was hot.

Holding the top, he set the bottle on his thigh and tilting his head, skimmed his eyes over my multicolored hair. “I’m Zane Powers. And you must be…Syrena?”

I laughed because that was a new one. “Jillian. Most people say ‘Ariel’ but you surprised me.”

“Pirates of the Caribbean fan.” He chuckled.

“Ah, I see.”

“I’ve never seen you around campus. How come we’re just now meeting?” he asked.

“Must be fate,” I uttered before blathering, “Did you know that in most ancient religions, the fates were females who the people thought controlled their destinies? How's that for girl power?" I raised my arm and shook my fist stupidly then chuckled nervously, feeling my face get hot.

What the heck? I never got nervous around guys, but he was making me feel a bit off-balance for some reason, and I was pretty sure it was because he was good looking. Lord. How shallow was I?

“That is something.” He gave me a crooked smile. “Yet most of those religions have died away.”

That made me laugh. “What? Okay, how about Wiccan goddesses? Or…Voodoo priestesses!”

“Religions that are considered minor.” He smirked then took a long pull on his beer looking out at the partyers.

Well, this was new. Could he be someone who might actually match my wits? I sat studying him since he was seriously a more than nice looking guy. Dark, caramel-colored hair that lay haphazardly on his head, light golden-brown eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled, a ruggedly handsome face with a chiseled jawline, a nose that was just a tad crooked, and definitely a nice, hard body.

Then trying to outdo his previous statement, I smugly replied, "Hindus believe all male power comes from the feminine."

"They also believe if you kill a bug you might be killing Great Aunt Martha's reincarnated soul," he retorted, still watching the people on the lawn.

"You know a lot about religion. What are you, a priest?"

He barked out a laughed and looked over at me like I was crazy, his eyebrow raised. "Oh, I'd definitely have to say far from it."

The way he said that, his voice so suggestive, so smooth, so friggin’ sexy, made my womb dip and I almost let out a little moan at the reminder that I hadn’t had sex in a very long time. Damn. As I watched him, I thought about what Izzy had said—he could be my summer fling. I’d sleep with him, have a good time, then never see him again. Sounded like a win-win-win to me.

So keeping our intriguing conversation going, I declared with a snort, "But you seem to know so much about religion. I might need to start confessing to you now, asking you to bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

"You'll find no absolution here. Sorry," he said, suddenly somber, now looking intently at the label on his bottle and I saw a muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched it.

My brow came down as I wondered what his change in demeanor was all about, but trying to keep things light, I knocked his shoulder with mine and offered, "Well, damn. Guess I'd better call Father O’Malley and set up a time then."

There was definitely sexual tension between us, or at least there was on my end. And I knew he’d felt it too when he looked at me and said, “Wanna get out of here?”

I nodded. “I need to call my friend first.”

“You do that. I’ll get my car.” He gave me another sexy smirk before standing, and when he turned to go, ahhh, there was that nice ass of his again, looking perfect in his jeans.

Right before he got to the steps, he glanced back to catch me staring in admiration, and giving me another wink, caused my panties to flood.

Crap! Holy crap!

I was going to come just from a frigging wink from a hot guy! I really needed to get out more often.

I waited until he was out of earshot before calling Izzy, who I knew would freak out at what I was going to tell her.

“You doing okay?” she answered.

For some reason I found myself whispering, “I’m fine. I’m, uh, I’m leaving with Zane Powers.”

I jerked the phone away from my ear at her squeal, cursing myself because I should’ve known it was coming, but I’d gone temporarily braindead because of a hotter-than-hell-nice-assed-winking guy. Sheesh.

When all squealing ceased, she assured me, “This is perfect! You’re finally getting laid and you’re leaving so you don’t have to worry about dealing with a dumb jock!” She giggled at her emphasis of the sketchy phrase I’d thrown around rather loosely and probably unfairly.

I chuckled with her not entirely convinced that Zane fit that profile.

“He seems pretty smart,” I declared.

“Maybe he is; maybe he isn’t. But you’re not looking for anything serious, remember?” she reminded me. “And, JB?”

“Yeah?”

“Go have fun!”

I was hanging up when a very cool, but very non-energy-efficient muscle car pulled up to the curb, and I canted my head to the side, trying to see if it was Zane. When the door opened with a creak and I saw long athletic legs appear, I knew it was him because there went my heart again, pitter-pattering like crazy. God, I was going to pass out before I even made it past first base with this guy.

Blowing out a breath, I stood and made my way to the steps then down where he met me, and reaching out his hand, took mine and led me to the passenger side of his car where he opened the door and helped me in. After walking around and getting into the driver’s side, he grabbed my hand again while dexterously shifting the car into gear, and we took off after I told him where I’d parked. He pulled up parallel to my car, got out, opened my door, opened my own car’s door after I unlocked it from my keychain, and when I was in, he told me to follow him. I nodded and did as he said. Driving two blocks down and three to the left, I saw him pull into the drive of a house with no lights on. I parked behind him and before I could even turn the ignition off, he met me at my car door, helped me out, held my hand again as we walked to the porch and we went inside, neither of us speaking. In the house, he immediately led me to a bedroom, and I knew we were both on the same page.

~*~*~*~

Up on my knees and facing his bedroom wall, my hands splayed flat against it, I moaned loudly as Zane pumped up hard inside me from behind.

He was on his knees too, arms wrapped around me, one hand clutching my breast, the other between my legs doing scandalous and amazing things to me as his hips pistoned powerfully, and I came again.

“Oh, my God!” I screamed because that one had come out of nowhere.

Holy shit.

“Mm, love feeling your pussy grab my cock, baby,” he growled in my ear as his thrusts got stronger until with a final plunge, he nearly took me off the bed as he climaxed.

He fell back pulling me with him, and we lay there breathing hard, me on top of him, my back to his front and I stared at the ceiling thanking the fates that I’d met this sex god. Then giving me a kiss behind my ear, he slid out of me and said, “Be right back.” Moving me to the side, he stood, and I watched in the dim light from the desk lamp that glorious ass of his as he walked out of the room to take off the condom, I assumed.

While he was gone, I looked around his room seeing that it was tidy. There was a Red Sox pennant on one wall and a rack on another that held thirty million baseball caps. Not really, but there were a lot. There was the obligatory I’m-a-horny-college-dude poster of a bikinied chick on the adjacent wall as well as a framed print of a baseball stadium that had a big green wall in the outfield. A desk with several opened books on top as if he’d been studying was pushed against the opposite wall, and there were a few framed pictures on the windowsill of him with a bunch of guys, all of which were doing what I thought was called the shaka sign—thumb and pinky out with the other three fingers bent to their palms, the international “We’re drunk as shit” gang sign of all college students. They also had their tongues out Gene Simmons style, naturally. Scanning the room once more, I checked for any proof of a girlfriend but saw nothing, so at least he wasn’t a cheater.

When Zane came back into the room, my eyes couldn’t help but skim over that magnificent body of his, taking in his pronounced pecs, ripped abs and spectacularly huge cock that was still semi-erect.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

Boy, was I. But then I noticed he was holding a water bottle out to me. “Oh. Yeah,” I said, taking it, blushing at my misinterpretation of the word.

After taking a long drink, he placed his bottle on the night stand then sat on the bed, and lying back, said in a low gravelly voice, “Come here,” and there came the dips and butterflies again.

I twisted to face him and the next thing I knew, he’d pulled me up under my arms over him, brought his head up, and taking one of my nipples in his mouth, sucked hard.

“Oh, God!” I cried out, partly out of shock but mostly out of ecstasy.

Then my hands were on the wall again as he pulled me up higher and wrapping his arms under my thighs and holding them on top with his hands, he pulled me down and put his mouth between my legs, his tongue dipping inside me.

Oh. My. Dear. Sweet. Lord.

He kept this up until he flicked his tongue over my clitoris before sucking it inside his hot, wet, warm mouth and I came harder than I ever had before.

“Zane!” I hollered and heard his gravelly voice answer, “That’s what I was waiting to hear,” then he turned me quickly to face his feet, mouth on me again from behind and his fabulous, fully rock-hard cock in front of me.

I wasted no time in returning the favor with my own mouth, putting my hand around the base of his cock and bending down, slid my lips down to take him in as far as I could. When the head reached the back of my throat, my lips had barely met my hand and I let out a moan at how damned big he was. God.

Then jerking his hips up, he groaned loudly, muttering, “Gonna fuck your mouth, babe.”

And he did just that.

And I took all of him.

Suddenly, I was flipped over onto my back, eyes still watering as I tried to catch my breath and watched him grab another condom and slide it on. As he did, those golden eyes of his burned into mine then he was inside me, hands under my ass as he drove in hard and deep making me arch up into him as another climax burst through my body.

“That’s it. Fucking love that,” he rasped as he continued pumping his hips into mine.

When he reached his peak, I watched as his neck muscles strained, his teeth clamped together, eyes never leaving mine as he gave into his release.

Stunning.

He collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily then turning his head, kissed the side of my neck and mumbled, “You’re fucking beautiful, Syrena.” Moving off me, he lay on his back, threw his forearm across his face and was out.

Wow.

Best sex ever.

A few minutes later, I got up, dressed and left.

I didn’t see him again until two years later.