Chapter 2
Landon
Itake Rori in as she stands in front of the window, the New York skyline shining through behind her.
The lights reflect on her silver dress, and she’s shimmering all over.
Cinnamon hair, tanned limbs, super fit body.
She seems completely unaffected by how naturally beautiful she looks.
Like a lot of athletes, you can sense her inner strength, too.
She has that special confidence and sense of purpose that comes with success.
Our conversation has flowed easily so far, and part of me wants to keep talking. Keep getting to know her.
Unlike most women I meet at parties, there is no hidden agenda here, and it feels so different—we can be ourselves.
Despite the fact that she just turned twenty (something else I clocked on Google), she has a maturity that often arrives early when you’re traveling the world and dealing with adults from a young age in elite competitive sports.
Still, there’s a strong physical draw to her too.
She’s incredibly sexy without even trying.
I felt a jolt of attraction when she walked into the party an hour ago, and the feeling is building as we speak more.
Not only is she striking, but the sincerity and confidence radiating from her are surprisingly seductive in their own way.
I’m not totally certain whether she’s interested yet, but I wouldn’t protest something happening between us tonight.
A pause in the conversation hits. I’m suddenly aware of our aloneness as she stands there, smiling at me.
I’m going to do something to test the waters.
“So, Gloria Reilly, what do you like to do for fun?” Whooph. Maybe a little strong. Definitely a little cheesy. But it’s been weeks since I made a move on anyone with the Trinity situation hanging over me, and my game is rusty.
I see her face momentarily freeze in surprise at my change in conversational direction. Then her expression smooths out.
“Probably something similar to what you do, superstar. With that reputation and everything.” She’s mocking me, but lightly, with a knowing look in her eye.
I take another step towards her. “I told you, I’m a better man than my reputation.”
I pause and then decide to push things even further.
“But there’s no denying that when you walked into the party, I had no interest in being a better man tonight.” Damn, I hope that lands.
Turns out, it does.
“Is that so?” she says intently, leaning toward me a little more, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
If I’m reading her movements right, she’s interested. My earlier question now answered.
“It is,” I say. “You look gorgeous, in case no one has told you. As soon as you walked into the room, I wanted to know more.”
“Resulting in that Google search,” she says, not breaking eye contact.
“And finding you as soon as you were alone.”
She smiles at my comment, her eyes bright from the light coming through the windows. “Well, I’m glad you did. Even if it’s the first time a guy has waited to meet me outside the ladies room at a party.”
I laugh. I like that she teases me, it’s different.
“I apologize for our start, then,” I say. “But I hope I’m making up for it.”
“You’re getting there….” she says, her smile getting a little wider.
“Good to know.” Neither of us have stopped our eye contact, and I see a new expression slip into her eyes.
“So…” She draws out the word. “I came here to network with sponsors, but I’ve done my duty for my agent, I think.”
I hum in response and bring my hand to her neck softly, gliding down it to her shoulder, stopping on her smooth skin there. The gesture’s maybe too intimate for our new acquaintance, but…I don’t know, I can’t resist.
And now I am hoping this night might get a little more intimate.
“Rori…”
“Yes?” she asks, her eyes gleaming.
“Do you want to get out of here? Come hang out in my room?”
“Let’s go,” she says simply, her lips tilting up a little more.
“Okay, we should take a few minutes to say our goodbyes separately and then meet back up.”
I grab her cell phone, program my number in her contacts, and text myself so I have hers too. “This is my number if we can’t find each other within ten minutes.”
She nods. “I’ll stay here for a couple minutes, so you can leave first.”
Ten minutes later, we find each other on opposite sides of the elevator bank, pretending not to be together. She has a big smile on her face as the elevator doors close, leaving us alone.
“I’m on the fourteenth floor,” I tell her, hitting the button.
“This is crazy,” she says. “Not what I expected when I flew up here this morning.”
“Trust me, I planned to be on my best behavior.” I look her in the eyes and wink. “Not sure I can keep that promise now.”
She laughs, the mirrors in the elevator letting me see it from all angles. “I hope not.”
“You even laugh pretty,” I tell her. My comment has her beaming, her eyes big and wide.
I watch as she straightens up a beat later, looking a little impatient at the slow passing of the floors. It’s clear that, like me, she’s looking forward to seeing where the unexpected twist to this evening goes.
I grab her hand as the elevator door finally opens onto my floor. We need to move quickly to try to avoid any prying eyes. Leading her down the hall to my room, I swipe the hotel room card as fast as I can, and then we slide in as soon as I get the door open.
“Do you want more water?” I ask her as I flip on some lights.
Like the room downstairs, the New York City skyline shines outside of the large windows in the living area of the hotel room.
I’m thanking my lucky stars that I’d decided to get a suite instead of a standard room for the night, so she isn’t staring at a bed right away as we explore whatever is happening tonight.
Something about Rori has me a little unsettled, even though this shouldn’t really be different than any other night I take someone home from a party. I don’t want her to feel like I’m using her. Maybe because of her status as a fellow athlete?
Don’t overanalyze it, idiot, I tell myself. She clearly wants to be here and is about to go to Australia, halfway across the world.
“I’ll take some water,” Rori responds as she walks further into the space, nearing one of the couches. “Have you stayed at this hotel before? What a view.”
“I don’t think this one, no,” I say, grabbing the drinks from the mini-fridge. “I haven’t been to New York City too often. My life is largely down in Florida now. Although I’ll be traveling overseas once all of my football duties are done later this month.”
I walk toward her and hand her a bottle of water.
“You said you didn’t make the playoffs,” Rori says as she sits on the top edge of the faux leather couch in the center of the room. “Is that tough? Sorry if it’s a sore subject.”
“Sure, it’s disappointing,” I admit. “I actually won’t even be playing in next weekend’s game, which is the last one of the regular season. I tweaked my ankle mid-season, and the coaches don’t think it’s worth me playing Sunday since it’s a meaningless game.”
Rori peers down at my ankle on instinct.
“It’s not even wrapped now, so it isn’t terrible,” I explain.
“Just not worth the risk of hurting it more. Anyway, it doesn’t feel great to be done for the year, but we’re a young team.
Johnson, our quarterback, and I have only been in the league for two years now.
Another strong draft and we should have a lot of the right pieces for a run next fall. ”
“Your season doesn’t start until next fall again? Like September-ish?” Rori asks, with genuine curiosity. It’s refreshing to have someone truly interested in learning more, I realize. This isn’t the norm for my conversations with women in hotel rooms.
“Sort of,” I respond. “We start practices in June, training camp in July, and preseason games in August. So I’ve got a few months off starting in late January, but only through the Spring.”
“That makes sense,” Rori says, nodding. “And you’re travelling? Where?”
“Asia. Vietnam, Singapore, and Japan. It should be really interesting. I’m bringing one of my younger brothers with me.”
“Oh that’s nice! I’m an only child so I’m always jealous of people with siblings.” Her tone is light, so it’s clearly not too sensitive a subject.
“Well, my little sister is cool, but my little brothers are pains in the ass, so don’t be too envious,” I joke.
Rori laughs in response and my breath catches at the sight. Damn, this woman is so beautiful. Seemingly inside as well as out.
Before I think too deeply about that, I reach out and gently take her free hand in mine, rolling my thumb over palm. The contact makes her go quiet, but when our eyes connect, hers are shining with interest. I set my water down and she copies me, placing her bottle next to mine.
Her action is a pretty big clue, but I decide to make certain that she wants this moment to head where I think it’s going.
“Can I kiss you, Rori?”
A small smile touches her lips, and then she stands on her toes to reach me, initiating a subtle brush of our mouths. Her confidence is such a turn on. Unable to restrain myself, I pull her closer and kiss her more firmly.
She tastes like strawberries. Have I mentioned I love strawberries?
The kiss deepens as we both relax into each other, a little moan escaping her. So responsive, but also seemingly unafraid to take what she wants from me. I’m surprised by the intensity of the give and take, as we trade off who is in control.
Not complaining. It’s sexy as fuck to have her claim what she needs from me.
Minutes pass. The longer we keep kissing, the more her body softens into mine. Her dress is probably a little stiff and uncomfortable, but she’s pure warmth against me.
“You’re a great kisser,” she says, pulling our lips apart for a moment, before moving her arms around my shoulders and sealing our mouths together again.
As she presses against me tighter, I want my hands everywhere on her, but I settle for wrapping both my arms around her in a strong grip. She sighs a little in response.
That sound is a trigger. Suddenly I’m hungry for a lot more.
I shift us closer so that she is lined up against me, the front of our bodies connected in every way.
Her tits push against me in this position, and I love the feel of her softness against my chest. In turn, I’m sure she can feel my hardening dick snug against her even with clothes blocking some of the sensation.
I think it might be time for a change of location. Reluctantly, I break the kiss.
“Rori, should we move to the bedroom?” I want to make sure she’s comfortable with each step. If she wants to stop here, we will stop here.
“I was thinking the same thing,” she says with a small laugh, her eyes glittering.
Grabbing one of her hands again, I lead her into the bedroom.
Her other hand is on her zipper as we enter, and her dress is on the floor by the time she reaches my bed.
Fuck, this woman.
For hours, we push each other’s stamina and pleasure—and then finally, at three AM, we crash, trying to get a little sleep. It’s unquestionably the hottest night of my twenty-three years.
But when I wake up a few hours later, she’s gone. No good-bye note, no sign that she was here at all, except a slightly wrinkled pillow next to me.
Okay, maybe she was in a hurry to leave.
But then my morning text to her—“Safe travels to Australia, I had a great time last night”—goes unanswered.
And two days after that, I see on her instagram page that she has landed overseas for her warm-up tournament before the Australian Open.
Still no text back.
Shit. Have I been ghosted?
What a way to kick off the year.