Layne
MAKING MY WAY out into the living room area, Mandy and Gracie are cuddled up on the couch watching My Little Ponies. It cracks me up Mandy loves this show almost as much as Gracie. They’re both enthralled in the tale, and I don’t want to disturb them so I make my way back to my room to finish getting ready.
Dress for comfort.
Pulling a pair of dark skinny jeans, a black tank top, and a gray off-the-shoulder sweater out of the closet, I lay them on the bed and go back in for shoes. Chucks will work nicely and are comfy in case he has us walking a bunch.
Knowing I’m spending the day with Bryant, I ensure there is not a single stray hair on my body anywhere. I mean, a girl has to be ready for anything, right? I am going on a date with Bryant Nash. You never know what could happen. I can’t seem to control myself when it comes to him.
As soon as I step out of my room and toward the living area, I can hear Mandy and Gracie chatting, and I pause right outside the room.
“So, your mom is gonna go hang out with Bryant today, so you’re stuck with me. What’cha wanna do?” Mandy asks her.
“Can’t we go with them? I like Bryant. He’s nice.”
“Nope. They need to get to know each other, and they can’t do that with us bugging them.”
Gracie must be pouting because Mandy quickly follows up with, “Plus, they’re gonna do stupid grown-up stuff, like go watch an opera or go to a museum with wax people. We’ll have way more fun without them.” This last part makes Gracie giggle, and I know she’ll be okay and not feel left out.
As soon as I walk into the room, Mandy swings her attention to me, and I mouth “thank you” to her and she winks in return. Mandy may be crass and have a mouth like a sailor, but she loves my kid more than anything in the world. I know she’ll always have her back.
“Gracie,” I start, wanting to ensure she’s okay with this. She turns her attention to me and smiles.
“Mama, I get to spend the day with Aunt Mandy while you go hang out with Bryant. Is that okay?” The smile on her face tells me she is excited and not feeling at all left out.
“That’s what I was gonna ask you, silly,” I tell her, patting the seat next to me so she’ll come sit by me, which she does.
“Remember when I told you Bryant and I were going to start spending some time together so we can get to know each other better?”
Gracie smiles and nods.
“Well, today is one of those days. We’re going to go out for a bit and you’re gonna hang out with Mandy. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yep. She said we’re gonna go do fun stuff.”
“I’m sure you will, baby girl. But you behave for her. You hear me? Best behavior. Remember your manners,” I tell her quickly. For that I get an eye roll and a “of course, Mama.”
“All right, I’m gonna get going.”
“Have fun, Mama.”
I head back to my room to grab my purse and double check that I have everything. When I come back out, Mandy and Gracie are where I left them, but they’ve moved on to watching the Transformers. Grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge in the kitchenette, I lean against the counter as a knock comes from the main door, which makes me jump and reminds me I still need to chat with the manager about the other night. I couldn’t get away from Mandy and Gracie yesterday before we left for the game to do it.
Looking through the peephole once again, my body immediately gets tingly when Bryant’s gorgeous face is on the other side. As I open the door, his eyes scan me from my toes to my eyes, appreciation apparent on his face.
“Hey,” I stutter out, causing him to chuckle a little. I step out of the way so he can come in. Once inside, he takes my hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the top of it, his eyes glued to mine. He must feel my heart going a million miles a minute because before he drops my hand, he turns it over and kisses my pulse point on my wrist, lingering for a minute.
“You look beautiful, as always,” he tells me while walking further into the room.
“You clean up pretty nice too, Bryant.” He gives me a knowing smirk. I seriously can’t take my eyes off of him. The stubble on his face has my mind going in directions it shouldn’t with my daughter sitting in the same room. When my eyes connect with his lips, I lick mine, and a small growl comes from him before he turns and walks toward the bottles of water I’d left on the counter. Opening one, he brings it to his lips, gulping down half the bottle, his eyes still trained on mine.
Mandy startles me when she whispers, “Quit eye fucking him already. The date is just starting.” When the hell did she walk over to me?
“Shut up,” I whisper-shout, and I know he heard her because he’s choking on the water he’s drinking.
Awesome.
Mandy chuckles and then walks over to Bryant.
“Thank you for this trip by the way. I definitely needed a break from work, and this was the perfect opportunity.”
“Pleasure is all mine,” he replies to Mandy, but he’s still looking at me.
“Oh, it’ll be your pleasure all right,” she mumbles under her breath before walking back into the living room where Gracie is still focused on the Autobots saving the world from the Decepticons.
I shake my head and turn my attention to Gracie.
“We’re leaving. Come hug me,” I tell her, my voice thick, and I hear Bryant chuckle behind me.
If Gracie notices any sort of tension in the room, she’s not saying anything, thank God. She hugs me tight before strolling over to Bryant like it’s no big deal and hugs him too.
“Have fun at the old people wax museum,” she hollers as she strolls back over and flops down on the couch beside Mandy who is trying really hard not to laugh.
Bryant shoots me a questioning look, and I shake my head and smile, pointing to the door.
We step out into the hallway where Bryant immediately laces his fingers through mine. I love that he likes to hold my hand.
He presses the down button to call for the elevator and then turns his attention to me.
“You really do look beautiful, Layne.”
“Thanks. So do you,” I reply awkwardly. I’m not the greatest at taking compliments, probably because I don’t receive them often from anyone older than eight.
“Well, I’ve been called a lot of things before, but beautiful is not one of them,” he teases.
“Stop teasing me,” I laugh out. “I’m nervous.”
“Why? It’s just you and me.”
“Exactly,” I reply quickly. “Just you and me. Alone.”
The elevator dings and the doors open in front of us, saving me from this embarrassing discussion.
We step into the elevator and Bryant pushes the button for the first floor. I watch the doors shut slowly, and the moment they’re closed, he steps in front of me, pushing his hands into my hair and bringing his lips down to mine. My hands find his hips, and I hold on for dear life while he devours my mouth. When the elevator starts to slow, he pulls back, pressing light kisses to my lips before letting go of my head and stepping back to the side of me.
I try to control my breathing and not look like Bryant Nash mauled my mouth two seconds ago, as the doors open up and two young women walk in, eyeing Bryant like he’s a piece of meat. Bryant wraps his arm around my waist and pulls my body to his.
The elevator is mirrored, so I watch as the women’s eyes bounce back and forth between each other and Bryant. He keeps his eyes trained on mine in the reflection and smirks at me when he sees my face flush with irritation. He squeezes my hip with the hand resting there and leans over and kisses the top of my head. One of the women rolls her eyes and it makes me smile.
When we reach the first floor and the women exit before us, Bryant once again grabs my hand and leads me to the front doors.
Stanley is standing beside the black SUV he’s been shuttling us around in and opens the back door the moment he sees us coming.
"Oh hey, I need to chat with the front desk real quick. I’ll meet you outside,” I tell him quickly.
“I’ll go with you,” he replies, heading for the front desk.
“No,” I blurt out a little too quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll only take a second. I’ll meet you outside.”
He looks at me strangely but nods and walks out to where Stanley is standing.
As I walk up to the front desk, I notice one of the ladies behind the counter keeps glancing at me and steps a little closer to the redhead working the desk when I stop in front of her.
“Excuse me,” I say politely to the redhead who is still typing into the computer.
She lifts her eyes to mine and smiles brightly. “Yes, ma’am. Can I help you with something?”
The other woman continues to act like she’s doing something, but she’s really only rearranging things that don’t look to need rearranging.
“I hope so,” I reply, my eyes swinging back to where Bryant is standing, ensuring he hasn’t come back in. “The night before last, a man I don’t know knocked on the door to my room and started asking me questions about my relationship with Bryant Nash. When I went to shut the door, he tried to push it back open. I got it shut and he ran off. Now, I’m not sure what this hotel’s policy is on giving out room information on its guests, but I want to make it abundantly clear I do not want my information released to anyone.”
The woman rearranging things seems to have lost interest and walks away. The front desk woman watches her retreat before turning to me. “I apologize this incident occurred here, ma’am. I assure you we never release information about our guests to anyone unless specifically told to do so by the guest. No one should’ve known you were a guest here, or that you are a guest of Mr. Nash’s, except you and him.”
She waves over a man that is standing nearby and introduces him to me as Isaac, the security manager. She quickly relays the story to him about my incident and Isaac promises to review the security tapes and get to the bottom of it. As I thank them for their help, Bryant’s arm snakes around my waist, making my whole body stiffen.
“Everything okay here?” he asks with authority.
Isaac’s eyes widen for a moment, recognition of who he is obvious, before swinging to mine. “Yep,” I blurt out before Isaac can say anything. “Everything is fine. I was asking them to make sure the towels in my room are changed out every day. Kids are gross.” I try to laugh, but it even sounds fake to me. Isaac’s face dawns in understanding that I haven’t told Bryant what is going on.
Bryant smiles stiffly and steers me to the front doors.
He takes my hand to help me in, and I thank him with a smile.
Once we’re in and moving, I turn my attention to Bryant.
“So, tell me what the plan for today is. ‘Wear something comfortable’ isn’t really a hint into what you have planned.”
“Honestly, I don’t have much planned. I figured since we’re in New York City, we could check out the touristy stuff. Have you ever been here?”
“Nope, and I would love that.” I’d been nervous to bring Gracie to do all the touristy stuff because it’s such a big city and I don’t know my way around. Hell, I’m even nervous to take her to parts of Denver I’m not familiar with, and I’ve lived there my whole life.
“We only have one day, so pick the top two places you’d like to see,” he starts. “If we have time for more, we’ll add another to the list.”
“Central Park for sure. It’s always been on the top of my list,” I blurt out.
One of my favorite stories about my mom that my dad used to tell me is about how much my mother loved Central Park. He’d taken her there a few weeks before they found out they were pregnant with me. She’d been upset because once again, their trying to conceive had been null and she had been pulling further and further into herself. He said she had so desperately wanted a baby and every single period and every single negative test about killed her. He’d taken her to NYC to relax and reconnect, to get her mind off the pain of being unable to get pregnant and spend some time together.
Apparently the relaxing had worked because less than a month later, she was puking her guts up and had never been happier about it. My mom swore I was conceived in New York City, which is why my name is Layne. They’d stayed at the Park Lane Hotel, right near Central Park. I’d never told a soul that story. It was too personal and I’d always kept it to myself. Someday, I’d bring Gracie here and explain it to her.
It was a beautiful story, one very close to my heart, and I wanted her to be able to understand the magnitude of how wonderful her grandmother was when I told her.
When I feel the first pricks of tears stinging my eyes, I close them quickly to cut them off. Not now. This trip is about fun and new experiences, not old ones that make me cry.
Stanley pulls over and stops the car, and I can see out the window that we’re at Central Park. My heart is lodged in my throat, and I swallow it down. I miss them both so much.
When the door beside me opens and a hand reaches in for mine, I realize Bryant has gotten out of the car and already walked around to open the door for me. I’d been lost in my own head and missed that part.
Placing my hand into his, I allow him to pull me from the car and into his arms. I squeak in response to the intimacy of the hug he’s got me in.
“I’m not sure what memory you’re thinking about right now,” he mumbles into my hair, “but I hope someday you trust me enough to tell me about it.”
I hadn’t realized how lost in my own head I’d become, but Bryant obviously did. All I can do is melt into his warmth and let him help me through this. He doesn’t need to know the backstory. Not yet anyway. Knowing he can read me and somehow knows what I need makes my heart crack open to him even a little more.
He laces his fingers through mine as we head toward an entrance to the park. The second my eyes land on the path winding through the trees, I know why my mom fell in love with this place. It’s the calm in the bustle of a big city.
We walk in silence for I don’t know how long before stopping near the edge of a pond, with beautiful bright pink flowers being the highlight. A plaque near a bench explains the flowers are centuries old azaleas. This place is absolutely breathtaking.
Hand in hand, we walk the grounds of Central Park until we come to a small pub with little tables out front. Settling into a seat facing the park, Bryant tells me he’ll be right back and walks inside the pub.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and lift my face to the warm sun. This trip has definitely been much needed.
Seconds later, Bryant returns with a red face and two menus.
“What’s the matter?” I blurt out. I can’t tell from his expression if he’s mad or embarrassed.
“Nothing,” he retorts, setting one of the menus in front of me, not meeting my eyes.
When he sits down and opens his menu, I reach over and put my hand on top of his, getting his attention immediately.
“What’s wrong, Bryant?”
He looks at my face, for what I assume is the reaction I’ll have to his response.
“I went to get menus and got molested by a waitress who recognized me.” He doesn’t even falter. “She grabbed my junk and asked me if I wanted to see the stock room.”
My eyes must pop out of my head because he gives me a sad smile and shakes his head.
“Does that happen often? Women propositioning you in public?”
“I wouldn’t say often, but yes, it does happen, unfortunately.” He sighs, obviously uncomfortable with this conversation. “But I guess when you’re a young idiot and you eat up the attention, that’s what you become known for—even years later when you’re not the same young idiot anymore.”
He’s right. There used to be pictures and articles in the tabloids every week about his escapades with the ladies. Those pictures and articles stopped years ago, but apparently, the women didn’t get the message that he’d grown up.
“I’m sorry,” I respond, because I don’t know what else to say.
“Don’t apologize, Layne. I dug the hole, not you.”
I nod in understanding but am uncomfortable with this discussion. I’ve been with a few men, but not since Garrett, and that was a long time ago. I had a baby to focus on. Sex hasn’t been a priority for a long time.
“So, what do we want to eat? Maybe we could order a couple of the smaller plates and share?” I ask him, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“That sounds good to me. I’m not starving, so order whatever you want,” he replies, his thoughts obviously still on the woman’s aggressive behavior.
“I’m not super hungry either. How about soft pretzel sticks and beer cheese and maybe the French onion soup?”
When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him to find his gaze on the waitress heading our way, and I can tell by the look on his face she is the one who propositioned him. He’s uncomfortable, and it pisses me off she is causing this.
I swing my attention to her and watch as she overly sways her hips, fluttering her fake eyelashes at Bryant as she approaches. Her attention is solely on him. She doesn’t even glance my way.
He puts his eyes on the menu and doesn’t acknowledge her.
“Hey there. I’m Aubrey, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Can I get y’all started with something from the bar?” she asks, her attention still solely on him.
I might look like a small fry, but I’ve never had a problem telling people how it is. This chick needs to go.
“Hi, Aubrey,” I address her, my voice overly sweet, causing Bryant’s attention to swing to me. “The first thing you can do is head back inside and fetch us a new waitress.”
She glances my way but only for a second before returning it to him. “I’m sorry. Is there a problem?” she asks him.
“There is a problem,” I answer for him. “You are the problem. I’m not sure what the acceptable amount of personal space is for you, but if you worked for me, I’d have fired your ass the second you put your hands on a customer.” She rears back like I slapped her, but I’m not done. “I’d like to speak to your manager.”
Her eyes narrow at me and she starts to say something, but I hold up my hand and stand up. She backs a few steps away from the table as I head inside, her fumbling for words behind me.
As I approach the bar, I see the bartender is chatting with a customer seated there.
“I’m sorry, excuse me. I would like to speak to the manager please,” I say politely.
“You got him,” he replies with a smile.
“I’d like to request a different waitress please.”
He looks to Aubrey and then back to me. “Can I ask why?” he retorts, not in defense but like he needs to know as her supervisor.
“Absolutely. My boyfriend came in here to let someone know we were outside and to grab a couple menus and your waitress sexually assaulted him.”
The man’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks pissed.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re mistaken,” he replies to me coldly. “Aubrey is my girlfriend. I’m certain you misunderstood the situation.”
I take a step toward the bar before I speak again.
“Really? Because I’m pretty sure Bryant Nash wouldn’t make up a story about a waitress grabbing his dick while he’s with his girlfriend having lunch.”
The guy chokes on his own spit as he rounds the bar, heading for the door I came through a few moments ago. When he sees Bryant sitting at the table outside, he turns quickly to Aubrey and points at the back of the bar.
“Aubrey, I need to speak to you immediately,” he bites out, as she mopes in the direction he pointed. “Ma’am, I apologize for her behavior. You won’t have to deal with her again while you are here. Lunch and drinks are on the house.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I reply sternly as I walk back outside.
I hope he fires her. I don’t care what kind of man-whore Bryant used to be. There is no excuse for that chick’s behavior. As a business owner, I’d can her ass immediately for that type of action.
When Bryant sees me approach the table, the smirk on his face is ridiculous.
“What’d you do?”
“I requested a new waitress. The kind who doesn’t manhandle the customers.”
He drops his head and I can tell immediately he feels guilty.
“Bryant,” I start. “Nothing about what happened was your fault. She was out of line.”
His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s not happy about this situation, and it pisses me off even more than she caused this.
“Let’s go,” I say, pushing my chair back out and standing up.
“We don’t have to leave. It’s okay.”
“Nope, we’re leaving. We can find somewhere else to eat.”
He grabs my hand as we walk away from the pub.
A block away, there is a little café that has a sign out about a lunch special that catches our attention. Making our way inside, the lady behind the counter smiles brightly and tells us to take a seat wherever we’d like and a waitress will be with us in a moment.
“So, where to next?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across the top of my hand.
“Statue of Liberty,” I tell him, my voice rising with excitement, which makes him smile brightly. I’m glad getting away from the pub and changing the subject has lightened his mood.
“Absolutely. I’ll text Stanley and have him pick us up here to take us.”
After seeing the lunch special come out for another table, we both agree the sandwich is too big for one person, and neither of us are crazy hungry, so we’ll split one. Plus, Bryant informs me the only thing he has planned out is dinner, which I apparently need to be hungry for. His words.
The meatball sandwich and fries are amazing. Stanley picks us up to take us to the Statue of Liberty, Bryant never letting go of my hand.
I could get used to this. The hand holding thing. It’s like he can’t get close enough to me so he needs to be touching me all the time. I love it, but it also scares me because I’m already so deep. As much as I’d like to say I’m immune to his intensity, I’d be lying. He definitely has the ability to break my heart in a big way.
The guide gives us the background on the Statue and tells us interesting little bits of information. She’s fun and quirky.
By the time we wrap up the tour and are back in the car with Stanley, I’m exhausted. We did a lot of walking today, and Bryant did a lot of signing autographs and pictures with fans. He apologized to me every single time it happened even though I continually told him to stop. This is his life. If we are going to date, this is bound to happen, and I should get used to it—as well as the women who are obviously interested in more than just his signature and a picture.
Unbuckling my seat belt, I slide into the center seat so I’m right next to Bryant, before putting that seat belt on and laying my head on his shoulder. I feel the heat of his breath in my hair as he leans over and kisses the top of my head.
“Thank you for today. I had a great time,” I tell him honestly.
“Pleasure was all mine, babe,” he replies with a smile. “But don’t think you’re getting rid of me yet. It’s only 6:00 p.m. Dinner is at seven, so we’ve got an hour to rest.”
I nod in response, my eyes getting heavier and heavier.
I’ve texted Mandy several times throughout the day, and she and Gracie are having a blast. No doubt Gracie will be out like a light early tonight with all the activities Mandy has crammed into today.
When I feel warm kisses on my forehead, I open my eyes slowly, realizing I must’ve fallen asleep on Bryant’s shoulder on the way to the hotel. God, I hope I didn’t drool on his shirt.
“Wake up, babe. We’re here,” he murmurs against my forehead.
“Sorry. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“We got stuck in traffic, so it took us a while to get here.”
“What time is it?” I ask, stretching my arms out in front of me.
“It’s a quarter to seven.”
“So, dinner in fifteen minutes? Do I have time to pop in and see how Gracie is before we leave?”
“Yep,” he replies, holding out his hand to help me climb down from the SUV.
Walking quickly to the elevator, Bryant trails behind me.
“Layne, we’re eating dinner here, so you don’t have to rush. It’s fine.”
“Oh good. I was worried we’d be late.”
“Let’s go check on Gracie, and then we’ll have dinner,” he replies as the elevator arrives.
Bryant comes into my room with me to check on Gracie, only to find her and Mandy passed out on the couch.
I quickly rub my hand on Mandy’s shoulder to wake her. I need to at least see if everything went okay today.
“Hey, girl,” she whispers so she doesn’t wake Gracie. “You’re back already?”
“I’m stopping in to see how everything went today, but I’m going to guess by the way Gracie is snoring that it was a good day.”
Mandy smiles in response. “We had a blast.”
I lean down and kiss Gracie’s forehead, and she doesn’t even break a snore. Mandy wore her out for sure.
“Well, we’re going to have dinner, so I’ll see you later, okay?” I ask. Mandy nods and then snuggles back down. Apparently Gracie isn’t the only one who got worn out today.
Bryant is still standing near the door when I turn around, looking at his phone. He looks up as I get closer to him.
“Everything okay in here?” he asks with a smile.
“Right as rain. You ready?”
His eyes meet mine once again, a little of the smolder from earlier in the day returning. It’s a few minutes after seven when I close the door to my room behind us. Lacing my fingers through his, we head to the elevators, but only make it a few steps when Bryant stops, turns to his door and presses the card key to the pad.
“Did you need to grab something?” I ask. He doesn’t answer but pulls me in with him and shuts the door behind us.
When I turn to the living area, I’m speechless at what I find. The area has been made into a beautiful dining area. Flowers, candles, and a waiter standing beside a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine in it.
Turning my attention back to Bryant, my smile must tell him how happy I am at this arrangement. Having him to myself without all the gawkers will be a perfect way to end this day.
I watch him walk to the table and pull out one of the chairs for me to sit, which I do, thanking him as he walks around to the other side and takes his seat.
I can’t pry my eyes away from him. He looks to the waiter and nods, prompting the waiter to immediately pull the uncorked bottle of wine from the bucket and pour us each a glass. I love that he made this fancy, but I’m really hoping this waiter doesn’t stick around all night. As the waiter sets the bottle back in the bucket, there’s a knock at the door and the waiter excuses himself to answer it.
The sight at the door causes me to laugh out loud. A pizza delivery guy is standing at the door with the biggest pizza box I’ve ever seen.
“We’re having pizza for dinner?” I ask with what has to be the biggest smile on my face.
“Yep. You can’t come to New York City and not enjoy the best pizza in the world,” he answers with a smirk.
"I think Chicago might disagree with you, but whatever,” I rib him with a laugh.
The waiter takes the pizza box from the delivery guy and sets it on the counter in the kitchen. He grabs two plates and places a piece on each plate before bringing them to the table and setting them in front of us. The pizza slices are so big they hang off the sides of the plate, and my mouth starts to water at the smell. It’s amazing.
He turns his attention to Bryant. “Mr. Nash, will there be anything else I can get for you before I go?” he asks politely.
Bryant looks to me, and I shake my head no. I can pour my own wine and fetch my own pizza.
“Nope. I think we are good. Thank you for your help tonight,” he replies.
“Enjoy your stay in New York City,” he says to me, before retreating toward the door.
“Thank you,” I say as the waiter starts to shut the door behind him.
“You know, Mr. Nash, we could’ve been eating pizza and drinking wine on the floor in the living room in front of the TV. You didn’t have to go through all of this for me.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why I wanted to make it special.” His words make my stomach flutter.
Although I can hardly wait to dig into this pizza, it smells amazing, I excuse myself to the restroom to wash my hands.
Looking into the mirror, I wipe under my eyes where my mascara has run a little bit, before turning the water on. When I look down, my hands covered in lathered hotel soap, I freeze. Blonde hair. Long blonde hair in the sink and on the vanity. I turn the water off, lifting the hair up and staring at it. Why is there a woman’s hair in his sink? Shaking my head, I almost laugh out loud at my stupid thoughts. Probably housekeeping. I toss the hair in the trash can and return to washing my hands.
As I walk back in, Bryant looks up and smiles at me. He’s so gorgeous. I take a second to appreciate this day with him, but make my way to him quickly. I really need to thank him. Also, I need to kiss him. Now.
He must see something in my eyes because he pushes his chair back from the table as I round it. I’ve wasted enough time trying to keep my walls up. Bryant is obviously serious about us giving this a try. I need to be all in or walk away, and I’ve been kidding myself to think it’s even an option.
I’m completely lost in this man.
The moment my legs go to either side of his hips and I sink down onto his lap, his eyes widen as his hands settle on my hips, and I waste no time pressing my lips to his. His hands find their way into my hair, and it doesn’t take long before he’s taken complete control of the kiss, deepening it to the point that I can hardly breathe.
My body slowly rocks against his on its own accord, and when I realize my movements are causing this to become much more than a make-out session, I pull slowly back from the kiss, keeping my eyes trained on his. His hands have found a resting spot on my hips, and I’m almost embarrassed to feel the hardness I’ve created under me.
“That was one hell of a thank you kiss,” he tells me, his voice deeper than usual and full of need.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing my body down on his. I really should stop, but the feel of him under me is making me lose my mind. It’s been so long. Ages really.
“Layne,” he moans, squeezing my hips and pressing up to me.
My entire body is shaking in anticipation of the tingling that is already starting. He presses his mouth to my neck, continuing to grind against me.
“Baby, we have to stop,” he mumbles against my neck. I know in the back of my mind he’s right, but I don’t want to stop.
“We really should,” I reply on a groan and press down harder, threading my hands into his hair and pulling gently as he licks my neck and nibbles on my ear.
Grabbing his hands that are still resting on my hips, I slide them up my sides to my breasts, which are so sensitive my body shivers when his hands connect. He gets the hint and immediately shows them the attention they want. When he pinches my nipples through my top, my entire body begins to pulse in anticipation.
When another moan falls from my lips, Bryant’s movements slow and he returns his hands to my hips, before breaking the kiss slowly.
“We really have to stop, Layne,” he whispers against my lips. “I’d give almost anything to make love to you right now, but I can’t.” He pulls his face back from mine and drops his forehead to my chest, which is heaving.
“Tell me why,” I retort. I know he wants me. His need is throbbing against my body right now. I know he wants this.
“Superstition.”
I pull back and look at the uncomfortable pain on his face and can’t help but burst out laughing.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was. Superstition is a big thing in baseball. Nobody on the team has sex during the playoffs or World Series. We play harder and more aggressively when we’re hard up.” And then even he starts laughing.
“Well, the whole conversation about happy endings makes a lot more sense now,” I choke out through my laughter.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I start to climb off his lap, but he pushes down on my hips to stop me. “That is the only reason I’m not taking you to my bed right now, Layne.” He presses his pelvis up and once again makes his desire for me known. “Well, that and after I’m done with you, I want to sleep with you in my arms, and I know that’s not possible while we are here.”
And he’s right. I can’t stay the night with him with Gracie here.
He allows me to climb off his lap and chuckles when my legs are wobbly.
“Don’t laugh. I want to see you get up and walk around like that,” I retort with laughter, pointing at the big bulge in the front of his pants. He readjusts himself and lets out a grumble, causing me to chuckle more.
I sit back down on my chair and grab the giant piece of pizza, folding it in half and taking a huge bite of it while Bryant stares at my mouth and then readjusts himself again.
“Now you’re gonna be a pervert all night and make everything sexual, aren’t you?” I laugh out. “I could tease you some more if you want.”
I take a sip of my wine and then set it down, his eyes watching my tongue sweep across my lips.
Groan.
“Okay, stop it. I’m already going to have to take a cold shower in a minute. Let’s talk about something that’s not going to make this situation worse,” he blurts out, pointing down at his crotch.
We both devour two pieces of pizza each and chat about the game tomorrow. Game five. I can tell he is nervous, but he’s trying to stay calm. His shoulder seems to be holding up fine, and I’m happy for him. I know it’s been a major concern.
At nine o’clock, he walks me to the adjoining door, unlocks it, and escorts me into my suite. All the lights are out, and Mandy and Gracie are not in the living room, so they must be in bed already.
Bryant pulls my body flush to his and kisses me slow and deep. This man’s kisses have ruined all future kisses for any other man. His kisses are always full of need, and I can’t get enough of them.
When he pulls back, he smirks because I’m breathless again.
“I won’t see you tomorrow during the day. We will be at the field most of the day before the game going over game tapes and shit.”
“Then we’ll see you tomorrow night at the stadium.”
“Yes, ma’am. Stanley will drive you.”
“Okay. Thanks again for today. I had a great time.” He places a quick kiss to my lips before disappearing back through the door.
Yep. I’m lost in him.