Out of the Game3 (15 page)

Read Out of the Game3 Online

Authors: Kate Willoughby

Chapter Twenty-Three

Feeling like a coward, Alex ditched Antonia as soon as he could and looked for one of his teammates. He spotted Tim and Erin over by Tim’s painting. Even after all the indoctrination, Alex still didn’t understand art. Tim had recreated a portrait of a man with a big green apple in front of his face. What the fuck was that about? How did something like that become famous?

“Tim, I think I’m in trouble.”

Tim quickly fired back. “Get a paternity test.”

“Fuck you. Pardon me, Erin. Not that kind of trouble. Claire’s ex is here.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “Vic?”

Erin lowered her phone. She’d been taking a picture of Tim’s painting.

“Yes. And he brought his girlfriend.”

“Antonia?” Erin asked. “She’s the one Vic had the affair with, the one who broke up their marriage.”

“She is?” Alex pushed his hands through his hair. “I am so fucked.”

“What are you worried about?” Tim asked. “Sarge can handle herself.”

“Yeah, well...” Alex glanced over at Vic, Claire and Antonia and didn’t like the body language he saw.

“Well, what?” Erin asked, frowning.

“I, ah...shit. I know her. I know Antonia.”

Erin gasped and turned on him with narrowed eyes. “You mean
know
her, know her?”

“Yeah.”

“When?” Erin asked. “And if you identify any time after you and Claire went to Utah, you’re a dead man.”

“No, it was a couple of years ago.”

Tim clapped him on the back. “What goes around comes around, my friend.”

“Fuck you, Tim. Like you never played the field. I was fucking
there
when you did and it’s only because your wife is standing here that I’m not going into greater detail. Oh shit. Here comes Claire. What do I do?”

“Give her flowers,” Tim said.

“I don’t have any fucking flowers.” He turned to Erin. “Please, Erin. Tell me what to do.”

Erin studied his face then sighed. “Ask her if she’s okay. Listen to her reply. Respond like you care about her feelings.”

“I
do
care about her feelings.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem. Come on, Tim. I want to see the rest of the paintings.”

But he did have a problem. He could see it written in Claire’s expression.

She stopped in front of him. “That woman will walk out of here with your painting over my dead body.”

“Hey, she’s not going to win it.”

“Damn right, she won’t. If it comes down to it, I’ll bid until I’m blue in the face. There is no way in hell I’m letting her hang your soup can in her kitchen.”

“Claire, honey, that’s not going to happen. Antonia is not an art collector. All she has on the walls are pictures of her dressed-up dogs.”

Uh-oh. He should not have said that.

Claire’s eyebrows lowered. “About that. You really did sleep with her?”

“Yes.” No way to sugarcoat that one.

“Do you realize she was the one Vic left me for?”

“I figured it out.”

Erin’s advice about asking Claire how she felt seemed pointless. Her feelings were right there in the open like a broken nose. She was pissed off that he’d fucked the woman who broke up her marriage. But then she made a squeaky noise that didn’t sound pissed. All the anger she’d been bursting with just a second ago was gone. She seemed to deflate.

“I don’t understand. Why her?” She looked around the growing crowd as more and more people arrived. “I used to picture her in my head, what she looked like. I never imagined anything like this. She’s a cartoon, Alex. She makes clothes for dogs!”

He opened his mouth but she wasn’t finished.

“And you!
You
slept with her too,” she said in a low voice.

He could say nothing in his own defense. He’d slept with Antonia because they’d just shut-out the Bruins and he wanted to maintain the high with some sex. She’d attracted his attention during the game by sitting right by the glass and holding up a sign that said, “Put it in my five hole, Alex!” So he had. But he didn’t stay the night. The whole dog thing was weird. One of them wouldn’t get off the bed and had sat by her head the whole time.

He wondered if it still did that and if it did, he felt a little sorry for Vic.

“Sarge! I’ve been looking all over for you.” MacDonald had come from out of nowhere.

“What? Is something wrong?” Claire asked.

“No.” MacDonald put his arm around her shoulders. “I need you to come talk to my mom.”

“Hands off, Mac.”

Mac rolled his eyes, but let his arm slide away. “She thinks someone else did my painting and that I just put my name on it, so if you could please come talk to her...”

“Your own mother thinks this?” Claire asked.

Mac shrugged. “It’s not her fault. I’ve been known to play a prank or two.”

Luckily for Alex, Claire went off with Mac, but not before giving Alex a look that said, “We’re not through yet.”

When the evening concluded, Claire was, for the most part, happy. They’d raised a lot of money. She didn’t know how much, but it was obviously a lot. Elliot praised and thanked her. At the end of the auction, they called her and Jeremy up to the podium and presented them both with copies of the catalogues, signed by every player on the team and tickets to a luxury box, date to be determined.

All in all, it had been a triumph.

And yet, driving with Alex back to her place, the shine and dazzle faded and she thought again of Antonia and Vic.

And Alex.

What a wake-up call. The whole fiasco reminded her that he had a reputation for a reason. He was a nymphomaniac who whipped it out of his pants whenever the mood struck him, which apparently was all the time. And she couldn’t let herself forget it.

* * *

When Alex pulled up to her building, the garage attendant waved him through the gate. He parked the car in a visitor’s space, but when he turned the engine off, she put a hand on his arm.

“Alex, I don’t know if you should come up tonight. I’m really tired.”

“Come on, Claire,” he said as they got out of the car. “It’s not my fault.”

She looked at him over the roof of the low-slung coupe. “That I’m tired?”

“No, that I slept with her. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”

“Then whose fault
is
it? It’s certainly not mine.” She started walking toward the parking lot elevator.

“Look, that’s not fair.” He locked the car and hurried to catch up. “I can’t change the past. What’s done is done.”

“And you reap what you sow.”

“So what are you saying? You can’t forgive me for having slept with other people?”

“No. Just
her.
” She jabbed the up button.

“Like I said, that’s unfair.” He was starting to sound angry himself. “Look, I didn’t know you then. It’s not like I chose her, knowing it would hurt you if you found out. This is just one cosmic fucking coincidence that I should not be held responsible for. If you ask me, what you should care about is how I act
now
. Because as far as I’m concerned, that’s all that really matters.”

The elevator arrived. Thank God they had the car to themselves. He pushed the button for her floor. He thought it was a good sign she hadn’t blocked him from coming up, but he still had to get past her front door.

He put his keys in his pocket. “So let me ask you something. Have I slept with anyone else since I met you?”

She didn’t answer right away, so he waited.

“I...I don’t think so,” she said uncertainly.

“No. I haven’t.”

The elevator doors opened and they walked toward her apartment.

“Have I even
thought
about sleeping with anyone else since I met you? No. I haven’t. And you know what? Considering my sexual history, I think that’s saying something. It says something about you and it says something about me. She’s just one person.”

She turned to face him. “Among I don’t know
how
many people.”

He exhaled hard. “Look, can we go inside? I’d rather not have this conversation here in the hall.”

“Fine.”

She unlocked the door and let him in. He’d been here many times before and was always struck by how beautiful it was. She had taste, that was for sure.

“All right.” She put her keys in a glass tray on a table by the door and turned to him. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I don’t really have much of an excuse, except that coming face to face with Antonia for the first time and finding out you and she...? It was too much.”

He nodded. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a man slut. I’m not proud of it anymore. I hope you know that. I used to be proud, you know? I used to make sure everyone knew I got laid.”

“That’s...pretty juvenile.”

He nodded again. “It was. I know it was. But it’s never too late to grow up, is it?” He stood there, his jacket unbuttoned, hoping he looked sincere.

She met his gaze. Her beautiful brown eyes looked troubled. She didn’t know if she could trust him and he didn’t blame her.
He
didn’t know if she could trust him. But when he took a gamble and opened his arms, thankfully, she walked into them. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said it was magic, like that scene from
Mary Poppins
where she’s cleaning up the nursery and everything just goes back into its place bit by bit, except his entire world was righted the moment she laid her cheek on his chest.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how afraid he’d been that he’d be rejected. His legs actually felt shaky, and when he felt her arms circle his waist, he didn’t go for the kiss or the ass-grab.

He just held her.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“So, tell me she was a shitty lay.”

Alex chuckled. “Very shitty. I’d say I barely remember it, but I do, because it was so,
so
very shitty.”

She squeezed him around his waist.

“Seriously, though. That time with Antonia didn’t mean anything. None of those girls meant anything to me.”

“And I do?” She looked up at him with those Audrey Hepburn doe eyes.

He gave a nervous laugh.

She just raised one elegant eyebrow.

“Okay, yes, you mean something and that scares the shit out of me. I want you to know that, because now there’s something to lose, you know?”

She closed her eyes and nodded, smiling. “Believe me, I know. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was just going to be a fling, a summer romance. But it’s not summer anymore. It’s fall.” She looked up at him again. “What are we doing, Alex? Where is this going to end up?”

“I wish I knew, Cream Puff.”

They stood there for a moment. Now that the crisis was over, her tits gradually reappeared on his radar. They were so fucking soft and tempting, pressed against his chest.

Slowly, the slightest of smiles curved her lips. “Is...is that a paint brush in your pocket?”

He grinned. “Hell no. It’s my instrument of pleasure.”

“Were you planning on using it to pleasure me?”

She slid her hand down and fondled him right over his pants. He was fully erect in a matter of moments.

“I thought you were tired,” he said, snatching two handfuls of her ass.

“I’m getting a second wind.”

“Hallelujah.”

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he kissed her. God, she felt good. Remembering she had a dress on, he gathered her skirt up and edged his fingers under the elastic of her panties. Fuck, her skin was so soft. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers found her pussy. Her silken, wet, hot pussy.

Suddenly, he wanted to mash his face between her legs. He wanted to send her flying. Right now.

He broke the kiss, grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

He strode down the hall to her bedroom. He shrugged off his jacket, yanked off his tie, flung it into the corner. “Get on the bed.”

“Alex, what are you going to do?”

“Get at your creamy center,” he answered, pulling her underwear off. They were black. And very damp. Parting her legs, he burrowed under her fluffy skirt and started kissing his way up her inner thigh. She giggled. She said something he couldn’t understand.

He reared back, pushing the dress off his head. “What did you say?”

She rose up on her elbows and said, “That tickles.”

He chuckled. He pressed his hand against her pussy, rubbing his palm in a slow circular motion. “Does that tickle?”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “No,” she breathed.

“How about this?” He eased a finger inside. Fuck, she was tight.

Her reply was a long, shuddering inhale.

He curled his finger, found her G-spot, worked it. She made the soft little panting sounds he loved so much. He watched her face as he slid a second finger in to join the first.

She was so beautiful, so honest. Everything she did and said was all her. There were no pretenses, no games, no manipulation. He wondered how Vic could have turned his back on her. Hadn’t he realized what a prize he had? Why on earth had he tried to mold her into something else when what she was already so perfect? Alex knew more than anyone how superficial looks could be. Beauty on the outside didn’t equal beauty on the inside.

He was proof of that.

But Claire was both. She was a hell of a lot more than a summer romance.

He went back under the skirt. The sweet scent of her assailed him as he spread her thighs wider. He stroked her smooth skin, thumbed the swollen lips at the entrance.

She arched when he put his mouth on her. She was salty and sweet and so very wet. He explored her thoroughly with his lips and tongue. Her clit was stiff and eager, but he ignored it at first. He wanted to bring her up gradually, tease her and make it last. Then when she was restless and tense and desperate, he’d bring her to the brink and pull her back. He’d do this over and over until he sensed she was on the edge of anger. Then he would give her what she craved and revel in the shuddering throes of her climax.

Unfortunately, he’d misjudged the situation when he failed to take his shirt off. It was a sweatbox under the dress. He tried to push the skirt up over her knees, but it was somewhat stiff, like she’d starched it, and there was a lot of material, some of it like netting.

“This thing has a life of its own,” he said, pushing at the skirt and watching it go right back into place.

She laughed.

“You think this is funny? You’re the one who’s losing out.”

She laughed some more as she sat up. “Here, let’s just take it off.”

“Excellent idea.”

She turned around so he could unzip her. A few moments later, she was naked. Fuck, he thought, as she faced him again. As usual, his mind went blank as he took in the sight of her tits. They were large and heavy, the nipples were deliciously rosy and erect. Unable to help himself, he laid his hands on her breasts and fondled them. He loved how they were too big to grasp. He pushed her onto her back again and moved to cover her body. Palming, then squeezing, he took a nipple between his lips. As he sucked on it, her fingers threaded their way into his hair. He rubbed his tongue over the pebbly tip and just generally played with the best adult toys ever created.

When she was panting again, he reared back, intending to return to the feast between her thighs, but she stopped him.

“Alex, wait.”

She placed her palms on his chest and pushed him over onto his back.

“I like where this is going,” he said as she unbuckled his belt.

“I thought you would.”

She pulled his pants off. Now he was wearing just his dress shirt. He got to work on the buttons. He didn’t want anything to block his view if she was going down on him.

* * *

After three months of dating Alex, Claire still couldn’t quite believe she had access to his gorgeous body, 24/7 if she wanted. When she parted the halves of his shirt to expose his torso, all she could think was, “Thank you, God.” She splayed her hands across the ripples and marveled at the muscles beneath the skin. She’d always liked looking at photos of six-pack abs, but the real thing was oh so much better. She scratched him lightly with her fingernails and he growled.

She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to take him into her mouth. She wanted that too. It was weird, but she’d never particularly liked giving head. It had always felt obligatory. Come to think of it, most of the sex in her life had felt obligatory. She would watch sexy scenes in movies and feel wistful, thinking she would never feel that on fire for someone else. But Alex was changing everything. He was overturning her whole world. When this thing ended—and it had to eventually—she would have gained a new knowledge about what sex could be and what real desire felt like. Alex would be the benchmark.

He watched as she scooped his balls up in her hand.

“I like that,” he said in his bedroom voice.

She smiled as she used her nails again, this time on the area under his testicles.

“You’re driving me crazy, woman.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“Is one of those good things a blowjob? I’ve never been very good at waiting.”

“Maybe.” She’d let go of his testicles and was stroking his inner thighs with her thumbs now.

“What if I say please?
Please
blow me now.”

She leaned forward and stroked the shaft. “Please
is
the magic word.”

He locked gazes with her as she put her lips on the head.


Fuuuuck.
” The word was heavy with pleasure and anticipation.

She drew back.


Fuuuuck.
” This time, pained longing and pleading. “
Please
, Claire.”

She took pity on him and licked him from base to tip. The exhale he gave was long and satisfying to her ear. As she swirled her tongue around the head, he started repeating the word “yes” over and over.

He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head. He loved watching her. It turned her on too, to know he enjoyed what she was doing and wanted to experience it with as many senses as possible.

“That’s good. That’s so good. Take it deeper.”

He was always giving directions. Sometimes she followed them. Sometimes she didn’t. She had no desire to turn back into complacent Claire, blindly doing whatever her man wanted her to do, so she did what she wanted and right now she felt like sucking on the head and running her tongue over the little ridge on the underside.

He didn’t complain. His breathing was audible. He tasted salty and earthy. He moved his hips slightly.
Deeper
,
baby
,
deeper.

She let his cock slip free of her lips. He made a soft whimpering sound. She kissed her way down the shaft and licked his testicles. He groaned. She knew he liked this too. When they were wet with her saliva, she took him inside her mouth again, this time as deeply as she could. The sound he made caused her insides to clench and pulse. She drew back so he was almost completely free, then moved down again, sucking, her hands resting on his powerful thighs.

“Claire, baby...that’s so unbelievably good. You fucking suck me so good.”

Vocal and uncensored, he was so adorably Alex in bed. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He just lived life and didn’t give a shit what other people thought. She admired that quality. His occasional boyish frankness didn’t shock her as often now. Rather, she found it endearing.

He’d gotten fairly worked up by now. His penis was thick and hard between her lips. She could feel the urgency building, in him and in her. Her body wanted him. She longed to feel his weight on her, see his face, intense and fierce as he went at her hard. She wanted him to fill her up, stretch her, drive her against the headboard until she came.

As if reading her mind, he sat up, quickly rolled a condom on and got on top of her. She opened for him and as he pushed inside, capturing her mouth with his, pleasure filled every corner of her being. She felt so deeply connected to him. They flowed together as he slid in and out and sometimes she wished they could stay joined like this for hours.

He wasn’t talking now. Words weren’t necessary. Only action, harder and faster. Holding onto his shoulders, she lifted her hips again and again, meeting his thrusts. He had his head down, his cheek against hers and his grunts of effort burst near her ear as the sensations built quickly inside her.

“I can’t...Jesus. Shit. Come on, Claire. Let go.”

“Almost...”

She locked her legs around his waist and hung on as he increased the intensity and speed of his thrusts. With the physical control she had come to expect from him, he held off just long enough.

As every muscle in her body contracted, she came apart only seconds before he did. With a cry that seemed to originate in his chest, he stiffened his arms, arching upward and grinding into her hard. As always, she savored those few precious moments of shared ecstasy and tried to draw them out for as long as possible.

As the climax faded, Alex slowly sank down to rest his weight on his elbows. “That was fucking amazing.” He was breathing hard. “You’re good, right?”

“I’m very good,” she said, rubbing a thigh over his hip. “It’s always good with you.”

His face, his whole body was sweaty. His smile was tired, but still slightly cocky. He rubbed his mouth over hers. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I am.”

I’m happy when I’m with you
, she wanted to say to him.
You make me feel things I’ve never felt and do things I’ve never done.
You’re making me the person I’ve always wanted to be.

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