Recon Rendezvous (For Keeps #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

XANDER

New Year’s Eve

Anguilla

“ W here the hell do you think you’re putting that?”

She’s all attitude as if her legs aren’t already spread for me. Fuck, her sassy mouth makes my dick throb.

“This old thing?” I murmur, stepping closer.

“Yeah, that baseball bat swingin’ between your legs.”

My smug grin is met with silence and raised brows as I slowly stroke myself from root to tip, giving a squeeze to release the building pressure.

“Aww, don’t you worry, gorgeous. I’ll make it fit.”

Her answering whimper sends fire through my veins, and I step closer. Strong legs wrap around my waist, pulling me to her as I swipe the blunt head of my condom-covered cock against her clit.

The sensual moan that falls from her lips is my favorite song as I push forward, finally bringing us together.

I didn’t drop everything to fly to this wedding with the intention of hooking up with anyone, especially on the counter in this restroom, but here the fuck we are with another story to tell.

Fuuuuuck … I groan, sinking into what must be the most irresistibly warm and inviting pussy, the kind that makes you never want to leave. And I know what you’re thinking. This is going to be over quickly, a two-minute pump and dump, but hell no. I’m me, Alexander Grant. Mr. Debonair Extraordinaire. I’ll have to workshop that. But first, I’m going to enjoy every damn minute of busting open this juicy ass peach.

Damn, I expel a breath, pushing in, savoring the feel of her luscious body. Her cry filling the space is the perfect accompaniment as her tight heat envelopes me, welcoming me, and sucking me deeper. Fuck, I’d happily drown in this pussy. It’s almost too good. Too tight and so fucking wet.

“Yes, fuck, yes, right there,” she moans, head thrown back as she fucks herself on my dick. “Harder.”

She’s so damn responsive. Curvy hips move to meet my every thrust as she grips my arms, begging, “Faster. Fuck. More.”

Pulling back, I thrust in again, already panting as sweat pricks my skin, dampening my shirt.

My hips move on their own, seeking more, spurred on by her words. I’m already close, my dick pulsing at the slick glide of each thrust, her gasps every time I push in, knocking the air from her lungs. Fuck. It’s all too much. This, her, everything.

I need a distraction, or this will be over embarrassingly quick. My eyes screw shut as I summon every stat from the 2009 World Series, where my Yankees brought it home. Batting averages. Defensive runs saved. Runs batted in. What else? Oh, yeah. The sturdiness and craftsmanship of this countertop is commendable.

And just like that, I’m back in the game, surging forward with another hard thrust of my hips.

“You feel so fucking incredible. So wet,” I growl in her ear, and she whimpers. Hitching her leg higher on my hip, I power into her with long deep strokes. “The perfect fucking fit.”

“Just like that… fuck me…” she breathes, leaning back on the counter to watch me work.

Her sensual voice wraps around me, squeezing my lungs like a vise, making me gasp for air, and I have the intense fucking desire to rip this damn condom off and drive back into her bare. Skin to skin.

What the actual fuck? roars in my head, my hips stuttering. The thought has never crossed my mind before. I’ve never yearned to fuck someone raw, to fill them with every drop of my cum, and hold them in place so not one drop spills from their pussy. Until today.

Staring down, I grunt, thrusting into her again, watching myself slide in and out of her perfect little hole. Her arousal glistens and runs down my shaft and I grip her tighter. Fingers dig into thick thighs, my heartbeat thrums in my balls, as her breath hitches, and she starts to quiver all around me.

“Don’t stop. I’m so close,” she moans.

My fucking balls draw up at her words. No, no, no, I'm not ready for this to be over. Since the moment I laid eyes on her—about two hours ago—I’ve thought of nothing and no one else. I’m completely under her spell.

Sliding out, she starts to protest, but I go to my knees and engulf her pussy with my mouth, causing her to cry out. Groaning at the sweet and spicy taste of her, suddenly I’m a starving man at a fucking pie-eating contest at the state fair. Her whimpered cries push me to go harder, suck her deeper, to fucking devour her.

“ Yes, ” she cries, as I bite and suck. Spreading her with my thumbs, I delve in again, fucking her with my tongue, stroking her deep, before finding her little clit as she goes crazy, fucking herself against my face. Her moans grow louder, hips move faster as she chases her pleasure. She stiffens, pussy clenching, sucking me in deeper and she comes with a little shout, flooding my mouth with her cum. I lap it up greedily before standing, gripping my leaking cock, ready to slide back in and fucking wreck her… when her phone buzzes on the counter beside us, her alarm ringing and shattering the spell we’ve been under.

“Oh shit,” she says with a laugh and reaches over to turn it off. “Well, slugger, this was fun. I didn’t think you had it in you.” She pushes me back and lowers her legs. Standing, she readjusts her dress, which I had bunched up around her hips.

My brain is too fucking lust addled to comprehend what’s happening, but I think I should be offended.

“Thanks for the orgasm. But your time is up.” She turns, dismissive as fuck, looking in the mirror to check her lipstick.

Snapping out of it I can’t help but whine, “You know, it’s rude as hell not to let a guy know when he’s on the clock. Look at my balls.” Not my finest moment, but my balls are heavy and swollen.

But as I stand there stupidly with my aching dick in hand, she just laughs before kissing me on the cheek and sauntering out of the restroom. I’m so mesmerized by the sexy sway of her hips, I almost miss her pretty little panties at my feet. Scooping them up, I shove them in my pocket.

My own fucking Cinderella.

Well, fuck me, she's perfect…

Game on.

London Cameron. My eyes trail her as she makes her way through the crowd, flitting from one conversation to the next with a sly smile and a sparkle that is undeniably her. Earlier tonight, she’d caught my interest immediately and not just because I’m horny and we’re probably the only single people here. Besides being stunningly beautiful with rich dark skin and eyes that pull me toward her like a magnet, the confidence she exudes is mesmerizing. Her whole don’t fuck with me vibe is doing things to my dick.

Bringing the glass of bourbon to my lips, I watch her over the rim as she makes her way through the sand to the bar. I drink her in, from her slender shoulders to her swaying hips and long legs. She’s a little taller than average, which I noticed and appreciate since I’m 6’3”. Her sparkly heels are more like stilts, giving her the inches she needed to almost look me right in the eyes earlier. And what gorgeous eyes she has. The green must run in the family, but her eyes are a little warmer, with specks of gold that burn a beautiful hazel in the right light. Again, with that damn sparkle.

Taking another drink, she has my undivided attention as she throws her head back, laughing at something the bartender must have said, who can’t keep his eyes off her tits. I feel you, dude. Wrapped in a shimmery pale pink dress with a thigh high slit up the left leg, her luscious body is hugged to perfection. She’s everything I could want and more—brimming handfuls of tits, a trim waist, thick hips, and ass for days. My favorite.

If I recall, Ty mentioned she was a runner, maybe a track star in college. My cock twitches as I remember how it felt to be in between those powerful thighs, and now I’m rock hard again, straining against my pants as I recall the tight fit of her pussy, the smooth wet glide of each stroke.

As she turns away with her drink, searching the crowd, her eyes lock with mine and I raise my glass to her in a salute and she gives me a sassy wink. That’s it. With her panties burning a hole in my pocket, I march over to her, ready to demand a re-do or some shit. There’s no way that was the only time I get to feel her pussy around me.

“Alexander,” she purrs when I stop in front of her. The husky tone of her voice already has my dick’s interest, and I swear it fucking waves to her, begging for her attention. She’s removed her shoes and as she stands in front of me, she has to tilt her head to meet my gaze. For some reason, that turns me on even more.

“London.” Taking another sip of my drink, my eyes trail over her again. Smooth, tawny brown skin, cute nose, high cheekbones, sinfully full lips, dark hair in braids twisted in a bun atop her head, and those almond-shaped cat eyes. This woman is my walking wet dream.

“Did you need something?” she asks with a smirk, lifting her white wine to her lips.

“You know exactly what I need and you’re going to give it to me,” I say, taking another step closer.

The flare in her eyes at the challenge I just dropped at her feet heats my stomach with anticipation.

“Am I?” she fires back.

Bending so my lips brush the shell of her ear, I whisper, “You bet your sweet pussy you are. Maybe not today, or even tomorrow, but you will get on your knees for me, and I’ll bust the biggest fucking nut, just at the sight of you. I’m going to paint your face, splash those beautiful tits, and soak your hair.” I moan in her ear at the thought, and she shivers, her cheek brushing mine.

“You like how that sounds? You want me to dirty your pretty ass up, don’t you?” Unable to resist being this close to her without another taste, I lick a long stripe up her neck, pulling a gasp from those pouty lips. “ Yum . See you around, babycakes.”

Chuckling, I trudge through the sand to where my boys are relaxing, shooting the shit. This group of guys have been through everything with me and now we’re all celebrating Ty and Sasha. As if I needed an excuse for a vacation. The breeze off the water and the scent of salt in the air are things I’ll never get enough of.

Taking a seat beside Ty at the white rectangular table, I laugh to myself when he doesn’t notice, too mesmerized by his wife as she bounces around the dance floor with her best friends, Gem and Mia. They’re screaming and singing along to the music, making the most of the night. Eli is in the same boat and only has eyes for his fiancée, Gem. Our other friend Drew is smiling down at his phone, totally oblivious to what’s going on around him.

The girls’ yells for London have my head snapping up. They’re waving their arms around, frantically gesturing for her to come dance with them. Although London’s not the official photographer, she is a photographer and has her fancy camera in hand, taking pics of the dancing girls. They beckon her again, and she relents, handing her camera to Ty’s mom, just as the DJ plays something with a seriously sensual beat and my eyes are glued to those hips and sweet ass.

“Damn,” I murmur.

Both guys look at me and then back to the dance floor. Eli immediately bursts out laughing while Ty just shakes his head.

“Seriously, that’s my cousin.” Ty smirks in my direction.

“Oh, I know, and I won’t hold that against her.”

Eli chuckles louder and Ty finally joins in.

Standing, Ty slaps me on the shoulder, no doubt ready to hold his wife in his arms again. Dropping a cryptic, “Good luck.” He joins the girls on the dance floor.

Huh, good luck with what? Has he forgotten who I am?

Eli continues to laugh, swiping at the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Calming down enough to finally speak, he stands and repeats, “Yeah, man, good luck with that.” Before sauntering to the dance floor to join the others.

Drew meets my eyes with a smirk. What the hell have I missed?

“You know hooking up at weddings is bad luck, man. All this glittery, romantic shit? Yeah, you might as well put that shackle on now.”

“Nah, you know I’m allergic to romance. I’m just happy the wedding wasn’t in a church. I would have blown up like Xander-fetti. Besides, I’m not like those idiots. I’m too young for all that forever shit.” Twenty-nine is way too young to be locked down.

“Sure, but I’m calling it now. Even if you don’t catch the bouquet tonight, you’re fucking next.”

Scoffing, I turn back to the dance floor, needing just one more glimpse of her. But as I search the crowd, there’s no London in sight.

She’s gone.

Three Months Later… Chicago

I fucking love Chicago. Stepping out into the bustling city street, I shake off the hectic morning of calls, meetings, and mini crises of my investment banking firm.

Pulling in a deep breath of crisp air, I roll my shoulders to ease the tension building, wishing I had time to get in another swim to wash away the morning. I hate working weekends, but a stomach bug swept through the team this week, taking down my managing director, CIO, and who knows how many others. But money talks and it comes with the territory of being the CEO. This place is my pride and joy, founded six years ago, and we're a fucking juggernaut in this town. If there are two things I’m good at, it’s analyzing data and making calculated decisions. It’s why we’re so reputable. I may be the guy you call when you want to have a good time, but I’m always the guy you call when there’s money on the line.

Taking in the eclectic crowd traipsing the sidewalks, my love for this city expands. We go hard for our sports teams, tricking people into tasting Malort, and any event that involves drinking. And that's never truer than Saint Patrick's Day. I’m ready to put the morning behind me, and I briefly consider taking the scenic route so I can see the green river.

Checking my watch, it’s just past noon and it’s time to meet up with the crew and go crazy. St. Paddy’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. You drink all day and fuck all night. You really can’t go wrong with that combo. I don't even need the luck of the Irish.

Jumping into the back of my waiting SUV, I meet my driver Karina’s blue eyes in the mirror. “Step on it. I need a green beer expeditiously .” She laughs, as I bend, grabbing the bag with a change of clothes.

“Alright, ma’am, eyes up front. I need to change.”

She shakes her head, pulling away from the curb. “No problem, sir. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. You aren’t my type.”

Yanking off my tie, I scoff. “I’m everyone’s type. Look at me.” I flutter my lashes and rattle off the shit that’s written about me or even worse, I hear from women. “My enigmatic eyes, sexy just fucked hair, Adonis physique, and huge… feet, all aboard a boatload of money. What’s not to love?”

She rolls her eyes. “I like them busty. Bouncy. Petite and sweet. You’re none of those things.”

I grunt, pulling on my T-shirt. “Well, your taste sucks, unless she’s coming home with me, but I’m glad we can keep our relationship professional. I really can’t have you lusting after me like the other ones did.”

Her eyes shoot to mine again. “Seriously?”

No, but I can’t help pulling her leg. “Eyes front! Yeah. This was just a test, and you passed.” She’s been driving for me for about six weeks, and she was finally warming up to me. Pulling my jeans over my green and gold shamrock boxers, I zip up before reaching for my boots. We should be pulling up to Celtic , the first stop of our bar crawl, in less than five. Tossing the rest of my shit in the back, I pull on my favorite green ND beanie with the poofy pom and push up the sleeves of my matching zip up hoodie. Making sure I have my phone and cash, I sit back and drum my fingers on my thighs.

“If your female drivers keep falling for you, why don’t you try male drivers?”

I give her a look. “I was just kidding. Sort of. I have had a few that were too interested in what was going on in the backseat when I was entertaining. But I enjoy the eye candy.”

She laughs. “Pig.”

“Hey, watch it. And that’s Mr. Pig to you.” There was a joke in there about pulled pork, but I’m too lazy to make it work.

Double parking outside of the bar, the sidewalks and street are crammed with people and it’s like a parade of green in every direction. “Thanks, Karina. I’m going to be out for a while on this crawl. I’ll text you later if I need a ride, but maybe someone will be riding me, if you catch my drift.”

She gags. “Good luck, but I’m sure I’ll be hearing from you later.”

I clutch my chest. “Damn, your lack of confidence in me cuts deep.”

She huffs. “Whatever. Get out.”

Shooting her a salute, I slide out of the SUV. Fuck, even with the sun shining bright, it’s still windy and cold as hell. I’m glad I grabbed my sweatshirt, I think with a shiver, as I zip it up to my neck. But taking a look around, several ladies were fooled and are exposing some skin. Flirty girls bouncing all around today. Have I mentioned this is my favorite holiday? Rubbing my hands together, I laugh. This holiday is for kings.

Walking into the bar, I'm immediately met with the smell of stale beer and sweat. Laughter, shrieks, and sweltering heat engulf me, and I regret wearing these layers as I move through the crowd. Tugging off my hat, I shove it into my pocket and saddle up to the bar.

Glancing around the dark wood interior, I look for my boys, Eli, Ty, and Drew. The lucky bastards didn’t have to work this morning. We all own and run our own shit, and I’m usually the best at delegating tasks. Drew is the worst. I guess lawyers need to be present to actually win cases.

Ordering a green beer and a shot of Jameson, I throw some cash down, after slamming my empty shot glass back on the bar and move away to make room for the other party animals. Holding my beer above my head as I navigate the crowd, I finally spot someone I recognize. Gem. I’d know those big dark curls anywhere. She's at a table in the corner laughing, and I spot her jabbering with Mia and Sasha. Smiling as I watch their antics, I’ll never admit this, but I’m happy they found love with my best friends. Because not only are my guys fucking happy but weirdly, so am I. These girls are amazing. Sasha with her nurturing spirit, Gem with her cheery sweetness, she just makes you happy when you're around her, and Mia with all that sass. Their addition to our group, even if it makes my friends fucking morons, is perfect.

Alright, if the girls are here, the guys aren't far behind. They would never leave them in this chaos without keeping a close eye on them. A great man once said, don't bring sand to the beach. I said that well before I met these girls, and I can admit when I’m wrong. Making my way over to them, all signs point to the liquor has hit as they scream my name at my approach causing everyone to turn around to check us out and I eat it up.

Turning to the ladies at the nearby table, I wink. “Don’t worry. There’s more than enough to go around. We have all night.”

“Of course, you had to ruin it,” quips Mia, as Gem and Sasha gag.

I shake my head at them, mouthing hi to the gorgeous girl to my right who seems extremely interested in fucking around and finding out. Going around the table, I offer each of the girls a hug.

“Hey, shorty.”

Sasha stands, offering me a one-armed hug. She just shakes her head and not for the first time I think she sees through all my bullshit, maybe that’s why we’ve gotten close. Looking them over, I laugh.

“You guys went all out.” They are decked out, practically head to toe in St. Paddy’s green. Striped tights, tutus, suspenders, headbands. Very 80s.

Heading over to Gem, she whips around, smacking me with her big fluffy ponytail. “Hey, Xander. I met a girl in the restroom who I think would be perfect for you!” she squeals. I can only laugh at Ms. Bubbly. Eli has his hands full trying to keep up with this one.

Pulling her into a hug, I look around the table. “Oh really? You girls are wild, telling your life story and making friends in bathrooms.”

She laughs. “You should give her a chance.”

I give a noncommittal shrug as I make my way over to Mia. Maybe I’ll take her up on it. Gem is a pretty good wingwoman, but since Anguilla, or rather, since her , no one has compared, and it’s been months since I’ve gotten my dick wet. Maybe today is the day I get over it and break this fucking dry spell.

“Hey.” I bop Mia on the top of her blonde head, and she turns and gives me a big hug. Scanning the table, I ask, “Do you ladies want another round?”

Sasha dances in her seat. “No. We’re leaving in a minute. Time for the next spot.”

“Oh yeah? Where are the guys?”

Gem points over her head. “Pool tables.”

“Cool. I’ll be back in a sec. Try to stay out of trouble.” Their boos and hisses chase me in the direction of the pool tables.

Finishing up my beer, I set my empty glass on a table. Weaving through the crowd, I spot Ty’s big ass leaning against a wall in the far-left corner of the bar. I briefly consider heading to the bar for another beer, but if we’re leaving, the wait in line won’t be worth it.

As I draw nearer, Eli and Drew come into view, playing a game of pool. Stepping beside their table, I shoot a glance at Ty who is too busy talking to someone who isn't Sasha. Risking a glance at the girls’ table, they are engaged in conversation, so Sasha hasn't noticed that her husband is enthralled in conversation with another woman, and I want to go punch him in the dick.

Who gets married on a fucking whim in Vegas, then drags us to a tropical locale for a vow renewal, only to come home and flirt with some chick at a bar while his wife is right here? I'm going to fuck him up.

But I must admit, as my eyes trail up long legs, encased in tight black jeans, and over the delicious curve of her ass and hips, at least from the back, she’d be worth the dick punch. Her back is still turned to me, and her dark hair is sleek and shiny as it grazes just past her shoulders. Her only concession to the holiday is the big green bow on her head. Okay, so she's not exactly festive, but I’d let her play with my pot of gold.

They both turn to me then, in fucking slow motion, and Ty, with the biggest shit eating grin on his face, asks, his voice distorted and dripping slow like molasses, “Hey, you remember my cousin, London, don’t you?”

My eyes narrow as I size her pretty ass up. What the fuck is she doing here? The last person I expected to see today is Little Ms. Blue Balls .