Scoring Position (Daytona Fury #2)

19. Ace

NINETEEN

ACE

“Hell of a game, Acey!” Jackson says, smacking his hands on my shoulders as we enter the lobby of our hotel. We just beat Denver seven to zero, and I went three for four with two RBIs. Lark wore my jersey again, and I was on top of the world, knowing she was there while I was having my best game since being called up to the majors. She came back here right after, since I had to do some interviews, and I told her I’d text her when I got in so we could hang out. We managed to get ahead on my assignments for the week, so we planned on taking tonight off to chill and watch a movie. I’d love for other stuff to happen, but we’ve been going slow since the night she found me in my shower, so it’s all up to her. I’m ready to take the next step, but I respect her decision not to jump into anything without being completely sure. I’ll wait as long as she needs me to.

“Thanks, man,” I reply. “You going to get some drinks?” The guys always hit the hotel bar after a road win, and normally, I’d be with them. But I have a blonde bombshell waiting for me upstairs, and I’d much rather focus my attention on her.

“Yeah. You should come. You’ve been ditching us to do homework for weeks. We miss you, dude.” He gives me his signature puppy eyes, which would normally work, but not while she’s expecting me.

“I can’t tonight. Lark is waiting for me,” I say, tossing a thumb over my shoulder. “I have to get upstairs.”

“See if she wants to hang with us, too,” he says with a shrug. It’s not a terrible idea. It’s almost eleven o’clock on a weeknight, so other than the women that’ll come in looking for a hookup, it won’t be busy. It’ll give us an opportunity to spend time together in public without a million eyes on us.

“I’ll shoot her a text,” I reply, pulling my phone from my pocket. I open the Messages app, typing out a quick proposal.

ACE:

Hey, Sweets. The guys are going to the hotel bar for some celebratory drinks. Jacks wanted me to see if you’d like to join, but if not, I’ll come up and we can cuddle.

LARK:

No, that sounds like fun. I’ll come down after I get ready.

ACE:

Sounds good. See you soon, beautiful.

LARK:

“Another?” the bartender asks as I finish what’s left of the beer I’ve been nursing for the past thirty minutes. Riggs went back to his room to call Monroe, and all the other single guys are working on securing their after-hours fun, so I’m just sitting at the bar waiting for Lark to arrive. She said she had to get ready, which means she had probably already changed into her pajamas by the time I texted since we planned on a night in.

“I’m good,” I reply. “Can I just get a water, please?” He nods, taking my empty bottle and returning with a glass of ice water. Just as I go to take my first sip, a small hand with pink nail polish slides down my arm.

“Hey,” the woman says in a sultry voice. “I saw you sitting alone over here looking all cute and had to come say hello.”

I stiffen. I’m used to this happening when I’m out. Sometimes I lean into it, spending a couple of hours dancing and making out, and sometimes I decline, immediately returning to my room alone. Tonight, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I’m interacting with anyone else.

“I’m sorry, I have a girlfr—” I’m cut off as I look up, finding a very familiar set of icy blue eyes staring back at me. But her eyes are just about the only thing I recognize right now. Lark is wearing a full face of makeup with her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders in large curls. She’s dressed in black from head to toe, starting with a skintight top that shows off every one of her delicious curves. Her tits are pushed up high, the smooth, creamy flesh begging to be licked and sucked while I actively restrain myself from doing so in front of everyone here. A sliver of skin peeks out from above the leather miniskirt that barely covers her ass, and as my eyes trail down, I take in every inch of the phenomenal legs that I’ve been dying to feel wrapped around me.

She’s a goddamn wet dream. And she’s fucking mine.

“A girlfriend?” she says, pouting as she flutters her thick lashes. “Are you sure? Because you look very single over here all by yourself. What’s your name?”

Okay. She wants to do a little role-play. We talked about this, and I’m definitely down for some fun tonight.

“Ace,” I reply, reaching my hand out. She slides her palm against mine, and I lift her knuckles to my lips, never taking my eyes off hers as I kiss them. “What’s yours, gorgeous?”

“You can call me L ,” she replies, giving me a flirty smile as I keep hold of her hand, rubbing my thumb across the top. My cock twitches behind my zipper as she touches my thigh, leaning in so her mouth is right next to my ear. “Why don’t you buy me a drink, Ace?”

Jesus fucking Christ. I can barely keep my shit together with this woman when she’s wearing her tank tops and cotton shorts on a lazy night in. How am I supposed to remain calm when she’s intentionally trying to turn me on?

I guess if she’s committing to the character, I can too.

Reaching out, I graze my hand up her side, watching as goosebumps rise along her flawless skin. I lick my lips, and she follows the movement with hooded eyes—a look that tells me I’ve got her right where I want her.

“What does a beautiful girl like you drink?” I ask, ghosting my thumb along her hip. A visible shiver makes its way through her entire body, and she steps in, clearly wanting more. Her hand slides closer to my dick as she does, and I want to pull her over my lap and spank her pretty ass raw for the way she’s trying to make me hard in public. There really aren’t that many people in here, but the idea of anyone seeing me with this gorgeous woman giving me all her attention makes me feel like a fucking king. I turn the tables, sliding my hands around her ass and pulling her against where I’m sitting on the barstool. Her breath hitches, and I squeeze the supple flesh, waiting for her answer.

“Ummm,” she says, shaking her head rapidly to clear the fog I’ve created in her mind. “V-vodka cranberry, please.”

Smirking, I turn and raise my hand to the bartender as he makes his way to where we’re sitting. I order her drink, never removing my touch from her body while we wait for him to return.

“So, what brings you to Denver, L?” I ask, moving my fingertips over the bare skin of her lower back. Her pink nails gently scratch at my thigh as we both slowly work each other up, making everything else in the room fade away until it feels like it’s just us.

“Work,” she replies. “I’m just here for tonight, so I figured I’d come down to relax. But as soon as I saw you over here, I had to introduce myself. What about you?” The bartender sets her drink down, and she picks it up, wrapping her plump lips around the straw. I watch, becoming more aroused by the second as she swallows, and I follow the motion of the liquid as it makes its way down her throat.

“I’m also here for work. I play professional baseball. We had a game tonight, so I came down to celebrate our big win.”

“Oh, wow,” she replies, her eyes going wide with faux surprise. “That explains all the muscles.” Her hand abandons my thigh, running up my arm and settling on my bicep. I flex, and she giggles before taking another sip of her drink.

“Does that turn you on?” I ask, turning in the barstool and opening my legs so I can pull her between them.

“Mhmm,” she replies coyly, her gaze burning into mine. “You’re so fucking hot.” She bites her bottom lip, and I use my thumb to pull it free before leaning forward and pressing my mouth to hers. I coast my tongue along the seam, begging to taste more until she finally lets me in. Deepening the kiss, I swallow every quiet moan that escapes her as my cock grows harder with every passing second. She grips the front of my shirt in her fists, and I use my free hand to pull her even tighter against me while we make out right in the open, not giving a single fuck who’s watching.

It feels like hours have passed before she breaks the connection, slowly bringing her mouth to my ear. “Do you want to get out of here, Ace?” she whispers, nipping at my earlobe.

“Fuck yes.”