9. Gwen
nine
Gwen
Past
“Have fun riding his baseball bat all night long.” My best friend wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“Shh,” I hiss at her. My head swivels, and I eye the surrounding crowd as Jenna bursts out laughing. The last thing I need is my personal business to get back to my father.
“Relax. I expect all the details tomorrow. Like size and girth.”
My cheeks feel so hot they might as well be two neon-pink signs. “You’re terrible.”
“And you’re too easy.”
“Whatever.” I place the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can stay.”
Please be okay.
“Uh, hell no. Get your little ass out of here and go do that man, before someone else does. Besides, I’ll just ask Tristan for a ride if I need one.” She pumps her brows at me again.
I swear on a stack of romance books, if she rats me out by asking Tristan for a ride, I’m going to shave her perfectly manicured eyebrows off her forehead.
Walking backward, I give my friend the finger.
Jenna throws her head back and laughs as her dance partner places a hand on her back, stealing her attention.
I don’t like leaving her behind with someone she barely met, but the opportunity to spend more time with Lance, away from prying eyes, is too tempting to resist. I’m just glad we have location sharing on.
Once my friend disappears into the dancing crowd, I spin around and make my way toward the bathroom where Lance and I agreed to meet.
My heart rate speeds up, and my stomach swoops in excitement. I’m about to live out a dream date with the guy I’ve been crushing on for ages.
Is this really happening?
The urge to pinch myself is overruled by my feet’s impatience to get to the man himself. As I turn the corner, like in a scene straight out of the movies, the crowd parts … and there he is.
Leaning against the wall, one foot propped up, his hands in his pockets, looking like a snack, is Lance. His muscular body is pure masculine perfection, and the expertly tailored suit and matching jacket he’s wearing accentuate every impressive inch of him.
As if our bodies are connected by electrifying threads, Lance lifts his head, giving me his full attention. His beautiful blue eyes knock me off balance, and I’m wholly unprepared for the smoldering smile he gives me as his heated gaze roams my body from head to toe.
My freaking knees wobble, like a baby deer caught in headlights, as I close the distance between us.
He pushes off the wall and holds out his hand for me to take. “Ready?”
“Ready.” I place my hand in his, and like it did on the roof, the same electrical shock snaps between our palms as he laces our fingers together. Lance leads me out the back door and into a dark alley behind the club. “Where are we going?”
He pulls me to a stop, just a couple of feet from the back door, and looks down at me with a coy smile. “Somewhere I think you’ll like. Do you trust me?”
It’s strange to say, but as I stare up into his hypnotic blue gaze, I know with every part of me I can trust Lance Taylor with my life.
The feeling is inexplicable and probably has to do with our conversation on the roof.
Some deep-rooted human instinct in me says he doesn’t share his personal life so easily, and yet he did with me.
“I trust you, Lance.”
The smile that takes over his face sends shivers racing down my spine as an icy gust of wind whips around us, blowing my hair across my face.
With his free hand, he reaches out, pinching the hair with his fingers, then pushes the curly tendril behind my ear, grazing the sensitive skin with his fingertips.
This time, there’s no hiding the way his touch is wreaking havoc on my body.
Goosebumps pebble my skin, making me shudder harder.
“You’re cold. Here.” Lance misconstrues my chills, but I won’t complain. He drops my hand to shrug off his jacket and then places it over my shoulders. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” I nod. I’m happy I left my jacket at Jenna’s apartment.
I push my arms through the holes in his jacket, soaking up his lingering body heat and the rich, masculine scent of his cologne that envelops me like the safety of a cocoon.
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I grabbed it before I left.” Lance grabs my hand and leads me down the dark alley toward the lit, busy street. He glances at my feet and frowns. “Do you mind walking? The place I want to take you is only a few blocks away.”
“Not a problem. These guys are quite comfy.” I kick out my foot and twist it sideways to show him the thick heel. “Besides, I went to UNY, so I’m no stranger to walking.”
Lance visibly swallows, his throat bobbing, as he brings his eyes from foot to my face. “Good to know.”
As we walk, I rapid-fire questions at him. Like what his favorite movie is, or his favorite city to visit when he’s playing. I eat up every bit of information he’s willing to share with me.
One avenue and six blocks later, Lance pushes open the door to one of my favorite twenty-four-hour shops in the city.
My cheeks hurt from grinning as I breathe in the sugary-sweet air and zero in on the wall-to-wall glass case of confectionery deliciousness.
“I take it you’ve been here before?” Lance asks.
I look up to find him staring at me. His crystal blue eyes dance with mirth, and the sexy smirk he sends my way takes my breath away. He’s so devastatingly handsome I can barely find the words to answer him.
“Of course. I’m a donut aficionado, and this is the only place in the city you can get strawberry-pink glazed donuts with rainbow sprinkles.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
As the young college student behind the counter recognizes Lance, his eyes widen in shock. He stutters and fumbles the register as he takes Lance’s order.
As discreetly as I can, I slip away and slide into the booth with the most privacy, so as not to be seen in case someone recognizes Lance again.
Guilt crashes over me like a weighted blanket, making it hard for me to breathe. I hate myself for not being completely honest with Lance about who my family is, but this might be the only opportunity I have to make him see me as just Gwen. A woman with aspirations and dreams.
Not Gwen Montgomery, daughter to Ted Montgomery Jr.
Lance places a greasy paper bag on the table in front of me. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. You’re kind of a big deal,” I tease, waving him off.
“Eh, I just play baseball,” he says with a shrug and, instead of sitting across from me, slides in beside me and presses his thigh against mine.
My body locks tight while my heart makes a giddy little flip in my chest at the contact. The poor thing has been working overtime since Lance kissed me on the roof.
I’ve never been on a date with a man confident enough to sit next to me in a restaurant booth. Not even my ex-boyfriend shared a bench seat with me, which, looking back on, should have been a red flag.
Not Lance. Confidence oozes from every pore of his marble-sculpted body.
“You don’t just play baseball. You’re one of the best players in the league. Do I need to remind you of your stats?”
Lance shakes his head with a chuckle. “Please don’t.”
“Fine. I won’t mention how you had 111 R.B.I.’s or 178 hits.” I reach for the grease-spotted brown paper bag and open in. A strawberry blast hits me in the face, making my mouth water and my stomach rumble.
“Oh. My. Gawd,” I moan in my best New York accent and reach for a donut. I can practically feel myself salivating. The dough is still warm, and the frosting is gooey as I pinch one between my fingers and take a bite. My eyes close as the sweet explosion of flavors hits my tongue. “So good.”
When I open my eyes, I find Lance watching me—eyelids hooded, and his usually light irises dark with desire.
Time slows, and I watch him reach out to swipe his thumb across my top lip, then bring the frosting-covered pad to his mouth and suck. He hums, and I swear the deep, rumbly sound of his approval vibrates between my legs.
“Delicious,” Lance growls.
Oof, there go my panties. Liquid lust pools between my legs, and my clit pulses.
How on earth can a growl be so freaking hot?
As if he knows what I’m thinking, Lance smirks. He reaches into the bag, pulls out another donut, and takes a huge bite. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. Like a freaking creep, I watch him finish the damn thing.
If Lance is weirded out, he doesn’t show it.
He just chews and, when he’s done, lifts his fingers to his mouth.
Slowly, and with his molten blue eyes staring directly into my aqua ones, he licks the pink frosting off his thumb in the same way I imagine he would lick the length of my core with his tongue.
I rub my knees together, needing a touch of friction to ease the growing ache in my pussy.
What on earth is he doing to me?
I shake free of my lust-filled daze and reach for another donut. “Good, right?”
“I’m pretty sure I can think of something that would be tastier.” His voice is gritty, laden with innuendo.
Is he talking about me?
Lance places his hand on my knee, searing my skin through my tights.
Oh, he’s definitely talking about me.
My pussy flutters, and my clit throbs with a different hunger, and it sure as hell isn’t for the unfinished donut in my hand.
“Finish your donut, Gwen.” His words are a commanding caress. Gentle but firm.
Without question, I finish the donut as he watches.
Eating has never felt more erotic.
When I’m done, Lance tilts my chin up and presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. A white-hot blaze of fire washes over me, burning my world up in flames.
Nervousness, curiosity, and a crazed dose of lust merge into an intense cocktail of sexual desire that boils in my veins, desperate to burst through my seams.
I’d never wanted a man more than I want Lance. He’s turned me into one enormous ball of hormones, and all I can think about is ripping off his shirt so I can lick his abs and then climb him like a tree. My hussy of a vagina agrees, spasming in delight at the thought of riding Lance’s baseball bat.
I will forever hate Jenna for putting that image in my head.
Concentrate, Gwen!
“Lance?”
“Yes.”
“I think it’s time to see your hotel room now.”
“Let’s go.” A growly rumble resonates in his chest as he slips off the bench and reaches for my hand. He carefully helps me to my feet, grabs the bag of donuts off the table, and leads me out of the small shop.
My overheated body barely registers the chilly night air as Lance steers me under a streetlamp, spins me around, and pushes my back up against the pole, bringing us chest to chest. His free hand slips inside his coat and grips my hip tightly as his fingers dig into my flesh and scorch my skin through the fabric of my skirt.
“Last chance to walk away, Gwen. Are you sure about this?” His thumb finds the sliver of skin below my sweater and runs it back and forth over my skin, lazily tracing lines.
“I’m sure. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.” I sound breathless and needy, my body aching for him.
“Thank fuck.” Lance slams his mouth to mine in a fierce kiss. He forces his tongue past my lips, plundering my mouth with deep, wicked strokes. Gripping his shirt in my hands, I pull him closer and arch my body into his, driving my hips forward.
If the way this man kisses is any indication of how he fucks, I am one hundred percent certain one night with Lance will ruin all other men for me.
And if this is the only chance I get with this gorgeous, charming man, then I welcome the ruin with open arms.