Endgame (The Atlanta Boys)

40. Dakota

40

DAKOTA

I need a drink. Or four.

Life has been chaotic since the Sports Illustrated shoot, and I’m struggling to keep up.

My mind needs a rest day, which is why I’m thanking the stars we have this weekend off.

After glancing at my office, I secure my purse and reach to turn the light off as my office phone rings, catching my attention.

That’s weird. Who would be calling me this late on a Friday night?

It’s only six—but still late for a business hour.

Shuffling to set my things down, I rush to the phone before the call ends. “Hello?”

“Hi there, is this Ms. Foster?”

“Yes, it is. May I ask who’s calling?”

Laughter follows the sweet male tone on the other line.

“Of course. I’m sorry to call so late, Ms. Foster, but time is of the essence, and I didn’t want this to wait until Monday. My name is Sam Brighton and I’m the head coach of the Denver Devil Rays. My staff and I have been following your progress since you joined the Strikers, and I have to say, we like what we see.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. I’m flattered. But I can’t say I’m not confused about why you're calling me?”

“Ah. Of course. Let me explain. We want to hire you for the next season. We’d like you to take over as the Devil Rays full-time team photographer; you will accompany the team on travel and be the sole marketing director of all projects for the players. I’m not sure what the Strikers are paying you now, but we will gladly double it.”

Double it?

That would change my life.

Even so, Denver is thousands of miles away from Atlanta.

From Callaway.

And Navy. And this team has become my family.

He’s laying it on thick.

For all of that, nothing about leaving Atlanta feels right. Nothing about leaving Callaway feels right. Although we haven’t defined our relationship, I know he’s my future, and I won’t risk losing that for a job and more money.

It holds no merit to him.

“Mr. Brighton, I truly appreciate the offer. However, I’m going to politely decline. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been working for the Strikers, and I can’t see myself photographing any other team.”

His steady breathing alerts me that he’s taking in my every word.

“That’s a shame, Ms. Foster. But I understand and value your loyalty to your team. They’re lucky to have you. If you ever change your mind, please don’t hesitate to call me. We are leaving this open-ended for you.”

That’s kind, but no thanks .

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Have a great night, Mr. Brighton.”

I end the call, my mind still reeling.

The pessimist side of me thinks maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible opportunity. It’s a “free get out of jail” card—get out of Atlanta, no chance at heartbreak, and an open opportunity to free myself from the grief of losing my parents.

Yet, I’ve never felt freer than I do now.

It’s almost like the second I listed my family home for sale and accepted my interest in Callaway, the deadbolt to my pain was broken, and the prospect of it returning fled with it.

I’m not naive enough to think the anguish will never return, but I now know how to cope and channel it positively.

Callaway taught me that.

It seems I owe Callaway much more than my pursuit.

“Jesus, Callaway. You scared the shit out of me. You’re lucky I didn’t ninja-kick you.” I’m laughing, but my heart just fell to my stomach.

I barely made it out of the Clubhouse before strong arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me in a tight hold.

Callaway sets me down carefully before wrapping his right arm around my shoulders—an act I’ve realized he favors with just me—and nuzzling his scruffy beard into the side of my neck. “Mhm. You smell good.”

I playfully attempt to wiggle myself free, but my size does nothing against his six-four frame.

“I’ve worked all day. You must be smelling my office air freshener, not me.”

He can’t get close enough, and I secretly love it .

“Not possible. You smell good enough to eat.” He’s growling, and I can feel myself getting flushed by the second.

All this man has to do is be near me, and I’m a goner. I can’t stop the giggles that slip from my mouth, holding onto this carefree moment between us. In seconds, Callaway lifts me in his arms, wedding style, and carries me towards my truck.

“Put me down, you big boob.”

“Big boob? Now that’s a first. I did always think I was a breast guy. That is, until I met your ass. And what a pretty one it is.”

His lips have yet to miss a sensitive spot on my neck. I’m breathing in soft pants like a woodland deer. He escorts me like nothing can phase him.

“We’re at work, Callaway…we have to stop before I jump your bones five feet from Leggins’s car.”

That got him to stop—not to hold himself off but to launch full send into laughter. His full-body laugh takes place in the silence of the parking lot, and my heart bursts on the spot.

I’m making him laugh, and the sound is honey on his lips.

Is this what it feels like to love someone? To love someone in stillness and chaos.

I know now that what Trevor and I had was nothing but an illusion. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He wanted my body ready for him at his beck and call without the strings to my heart, while I just wanted him.

Callaway has exceeded my expectations on how a relationship between two people is a team effort; both sides give and take, protect the other's heart, and the pursuit never stops. Maybe I didn’t love Trevor in the way he needed, but I know now he was never my person.

“Let’s go get burgers. Some of the team is meeting up at Burger Bros, and I’m starving.” He swiftly kisses the side of my head and rounds his Jeep to open the passenger door for me, ignoring my truck entirely.

“You sure are bossy today, Mr. Hayes. Who’s to say I don’t already have plans?”

I say that, but I’m already in his Jeep securing my seat belt.

All bark and no bite.

He settles into the driver's seat and directs his undivided attention to me. “Would you rather I eat your sweet pussy, angel? I can flip you over right here and run my tongue through your slit. I guarantee I’ll find it soaked for me. Isn’t that right? Is your pussy soaked and waiting for my tongue, beautiful?”

I can’t think straight when he talks like this.

But yes . He’s right. I’m drenched, and I want him to take care of it for me—to ease the ache that’s been torturing me for months.

I’m all but moaning, squirming in my seat. It’s a good thing I’m wearing a dress today because there’s no doubt my devious sexual appetite would ruin my pants.

“You think too highly of me. Don’t tempt me, Cal. I won’t say no to you.”

He reaches across the seat to drag his fingers softly across my thigh; the lightness of the touch sends my body into delirium. I can’t stay still, and Callaway finds pleasure in it.

His voice changes tone to one filled with agony. “I don’t think I can resist you any longer.”

The tension in the Jeep snaps in one deep breath, breaking all reservations and replacing it with carnal need.

My mind is not my own as I watch Callaway rush to unbuckle my seatbelt and lift my body like it's the lightest thing in the world, sitting me on his lap. He stills for a second, clearly holding himself back from the hunger taking up space between us.

“Do you trust me?”

With everything I am.

I nod my head, words audibly lost on me.

That seems to be the only go-ahead he needs before wasting no time in yanking my dress up to my waist and gripping my hips with his strong hands.

The tattoos on his forearms accentuate his thick veins, likely from all the pitching drills he devotes himself to, making his grip strength lethal. But he’s not hurting me—his handle on my body is more like a claim.

I want him to mark me.

“Here’s how this is going to go.” Oh my God, I can’t wait for this. “You’re going to move that thick sexy ass up my chest and sit on my face. Lock those pretty thighs tight and ride me. I’ve been waiting months to have my fill of you. You will let me have you. Understood?”

I’m already on the move. My body is humming with heat and anticipation of his mouth on my pussy.

Sir, yes, sir. I can feel the heat of his stare coursing through me.

I make my way up his chest as he leans the seat back into a lying position. “Fuck, these hips, Dakota. I’ll never get enough of your curves.”

We’re both so wound up our skin is ablaze.

“Angel, I need you to grab the “oh shit” bar and run your other hand through my hair for leverage. I like it rough.”

I nod as Callaway takes a moment to realize I’m lacking panties.

His tongue runs across the bottom of his lip, “No panties? Is my girl feeling needy for my touch? ”

My nodding takes over, not giving a shit about who could see us.

He’s perfect. My hips start rocking on their own accord as I grab the bar and hover my pussy over his face. His restraint is clearly wearing thin because I can feel the sensations of his tongue licking me in quick motions, attempting to reach me. I have yet to sit on him, and he’s already starved for me.

“Dakota, I’m losing my goddamn mind with the smell and taste of you on my tongue. Sit on my fucking face, and let me eat you.”

Your wish is my command.

The second my pussy hits his face, Callaway attacks me with his tongue. Plunging, sucking, and biting my clit into his mouth while I ride the high he so graciously gives me. My opposite hand finds its way into his black locks, and I jerk roughly, hearing his loud moan vibrate through the deepest part of my pussy.

It’s never felt this good.

“Mhm, Cal. That feels so good.”

The feel of his rough beard on my thighs only adds more to the sensation.

My neediness only spurs him on as I feel him plunge his tongue into my opening, only to slowly pull back out and lick me from bottom to top. He circles back around the bud of my clit and works me back up again.

This is euphoria .

Pleasure ripples through my body as sparks ignite down my spine— my orgasm quickly approaching. I can’t pull away. Cal has me locked down, with his muscular forearms wrapped around my thighs and he feasts like he can’t get enough of me.

The moment I feel his teeth latch onto my clit, I fall straight into sweet oblivion. My body seizes up, tingling with a heat that runs deep through my soul. It’s been so long, and I knew I wouldn’t last with his mouth on me.

I’m grinding myself into his face, unashamedly, like I can’t reach the end fast enough. It’s pure bliss. Nothing else matters but him and I—the intimacy between us and the fucking pleasure of a lifetime.

As my body comes down from the high with my heavy-labored breathing, I reach down to run my fingers back through Cal’s thick hair and chastely kiss his forehead.

Jesus, the man has an appetite.

It feels incredible to be desired by a man so much they can’t not touch and taste every inch of you.

He’s licking me off his lips, savoring every last taste of me. “Goddamn. That was everything. You are everything.”

I slowly lower myself from his face and bless it—he’s still covered in my arousal. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He wears it proudly—in no rush to clean me off.

How this untouchable man has managed to break down every wall I've built is beyond me, but I’m eternally grateful. Callaway kisses my lips, leaving no space left between us. We must look insane— all messy and disheveled in the front seat of his Jeep, yet there’s no one in this world I’d rather be insane and messy with.

Pulling back and patting his chest, I say before hopping off his lap, “Let's go, Ocean Eyes. Dinners on you.”

His wide grin tells me he wouldn’t have it any other way.