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Grayson
Her tongue was electrifying. It sent shivers down my spine as my cock throbbed against her body. I pressed her into the kitchen counter, the soapy water there getting her wet. I felt her tilt off to the side, deepening the kiss. Her hands felt so wonderful sliding against my skin, and fuck. Her curves. They molded around me perfectly. My hands rushed up her sides. I cupped her cheek. Fisted that beautiful hair of hers. I felt her gasp into my lips and smiled as her body pressed deeply into mine. Her tits puckered against my chest as she tugged at the hem of my shirt, her fingertips sliding along my bottom row of abs.
Shit.
What was I doing?
I pulled away, panting as I tried to catch my breath. Michelle’s eyes fluttered open as my hand released her hair. Holy fuck, did that feel good.
Damn it.
I was kissing Anton’s groundskeeper.
I stepped away from her in a flash, and I saw the look of disappointment roll across her face. I couldn’t bear it. I wanted to kiss her. To fuck her. To bury myself within her. But I was only here for a few days to put a dead man’s affairs in order. That was no time to start making out and fucking around with his official groundskeeper. Anton entrusted his house to me and everything that came with it. That included Michelle.
What kind of disappointment would I be to him if I battered her body like I’d battered his car?
Heat rushed through my veins. My eyes fell to her voluptuous tits and I could see her nipples poking through her shirt. Her hands pressed into the counter as she steadied herself and my cock grew rock hard in my pants. I needed to get out. To put so much distance between us that I forgot how her body had blanketed me. The domesticity was intense, and I liked Michelle too much to do what I really wanted to do with her.
She made me feel comfortable. She was easy to talk with. But I also wanted to fuck her. Badly. I wanted to bend her over every surface and coat every artifact in Anton’s house with her. I wanted to dive between her pussy lips and make her cum so many times she pushed me away to get me to stop. I wanted to take her out back in the yard and fuck her underneath the shade of the tree Anton refused to cut down. I wanted to take her to bed and roll my cock between her walls until she grew so tired from the pleasure she fell asleep around my dick.
“I have to go make a call,” I said. “I have to uh, check on some things.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Michelle said. “I’ll um—take care of this.”
I backtracked from the kitchen and took my phone out of my pocket. I slammed myself out of the house and into the car, desperate to get away from her scent. Her heat. Her voice. Her smile. I dialed my personal assistant to get an update on how things were going. How the vineyard was doing.
Anything to take my mind off her.
“Mr. McDonald. I was wondering when you were going to call.”
“I’m sorry, Maria. It’s been a whirlwind here in Stillsville.”
“Is that an oxymoron?” she asked.
“It might as well be. What do you have for me?”
“I’ve been working on arranging that meeting for the deal you wanted to discuss. I finally got them to commit to Thursday of next week. You’ll be back by then, right? Please tell me you will be. I’m tired of playing phone tag with these guys.”
“Yes, I’ll definitely be back by then,” I said.
But part of me didn’t want to be.
What the fuck was that about?
“I’ve got the rest of your calls on hold, though you’ll have a ton to come back to. And the latest batch of wine needs about three more weeks on it, or so I was told to relay to you.”
“That’s fine. It’s not due to bottle for another six,” I said. “Tell those guys to stop giving you the runaround and that I’ll be there for the meeting. They don’t need to know I’m out of town.”
“I never tell them, Mr. McDonald.”
“Would you call me Grayson already, Maria?”
“Not a chance. How are things going with the estate?”
“More tedious than I thought, but I’ll get it done,” I said.
“Anything you need from me?”
A massive dose of cold water over my head would be nice.
“Nope. I got it under control. You just keep doing what you’re so good at doing,” I said.
“You flatter me, but I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful, Maria Lopez. We’ll talk soon.”
“Mhm. Talk to you soon, Mr. McDonald.”
I hung up the phone and my mind ripped me right back to the house. What the fuck? After that kiss, all I wanted to do was bury myself deep inside my sexy houseguest. I wanted to know what she sounded like cumming around my cock. But it wasn’t right, and I knew it wasn’t right. I knew if I did, it would be the second thing I ever did that really disappointed Anton. And I couldn’t do that to him. Not to his memory, not to myself, and not to Michelle. She was a good woman. A sweet woman. A beautiful woman and a treasure to behold.
She deserved better than to be fucked around with by some guy from out of town.
Anton had taken her in. She was one of his strays, so she obviously had baggage. And I wasn’t looking for baggage. If anything, I was looking to unload some. To get this town off my back for good. We were also grieving. I saw her tears at dinner. How easily they flowed when she talked about the old man. I couldn’t take advantage of her grief and gratitude that way. I didn’t want her to think she that had to fuck me for a place to stay.
Holy hell. That would be insane.
I didn’t need to attach myself to this place. I was leaving in less than a week and never coming back. And I knew if I attached myself to Michelle, I’d want to come back to see her. I’d want to find myself back in Illinois just to be around her.
And that shit wasn’t happening.
When I parked my car, I looked at where my mind had taken me. And of course, I was back in front of the shitty bar in the middle of town. I figured I could use a cold beer. Or two. Or four. Maybe they would help me with my raging erection. I got out of my car and walked in and my ears were automatically assaulted by his voice.
Andy’s voice.
“Get me another beer, beautiful! And a round for everyone here!”
“Yeah!” everyone exclaimed.
My eyes caught his and he held his arms out.
“And your finest beer for my best friend, Grayson,” he said.
“Hello Andy.”
“The fuck you doing back here?” he asked, as he came in for a hug.
A waitress immediately put a bottle of beer in my hand.
“Come on. I’ve got a rousing game of darts going over here,” he said.
“We used to play darts all the time,” I said, as I followed him.
“I know. I play every night I come in,” he said. “Want a shot?”
I took the dart from him and chugged back my beer, then set it on the empty bar and took my position. I pulsed my hand once. Twice. Three times. Then I launched the dart into the air and hit three squares away from the middle.
“Oh shit. Looks like someone’s out of practice,” Andy said.
“Out of practice? That’s pretty good,” I said.
“Watch this.”
The waitress slid me another beer as Andy chucked a dart at the wall. And fuck me if it didn’t go right into the damn bullseye. How often was Andy at this place to be that good? Every damn night?
It honestly wouldn’t have shocked me if that was the truth.
“Remember when we broke into the school and wrapped Mr. Bertie’s entire classroom in tin foil for April Fool’s Day?” Andy asked.
“Holy shit, that man was upset,” I said. “But my favorite was when we put one of Old Man Taffer’s cows in the principal’s office.”
“That took so much damn coordination. It’s a shame Yahoo tried to spoil it.”
“Who?” I asked.
“That red-headed freckle-faced kid? Taffer’s nephew or whatever?”
“Oh fuck. I forgot about that. It was still a good one, though. How about the cow shitting right in the principal’s chair. We couldn’t have planned that even if we’d tried.”
“Especially since the man sat in it,” Andy said, with a grin.
“Oh shit. Do you remember when we got the cheerleaders together and played truth or dare under the bleachers after that football game?”
“How the hell could I forget it?” he asked. “I got my first blowjob that night!”
“That was your first?” I asked.
“What? You had one before that?”
“Hell yeah, I did. Cindy Jeppsson. Tenth grade.”
“Get the fuck out of here. She was the hottest senior in school!”
“And she loved my dick,” I said.
“Oh, you know another good one? That swirly we gave that guy one time,” Andy said.
My beer bottle stopped at my lips as my eyes darted over to him.
“And the dumpster fire kid. What was his name? He was wearing that bright red and yellow shirt when we threw him in.”
I bit down onto the inside of my cheek as Andy continued.
“Oh, ha-ha, you know what you were famous for though? Your spit balls. Damn. All the ones you shot up to the ceiling that came down in teacher’s hair and shit? You never did teach me how to aim like you could.”
Hearing a catalogue of my sins being rattled off wasn’t amusing. My laughter soon turned to guilt as a knot formed in my gut. As Andy continued listing off our ‘glorious pranks,’ I realized I’d been nothing but a raging dick in high school. I’d lashed out and hurt my fair share of people during my not-giving-a-fuck days when my father kept using me as a punching bag. I started remembering all of their names. Their faces. The tears streaming down their cheeks as they begged me to stop. To stop tossing them in trash cans and locking them in lockers and chasing them down for a swirly or some other humiliation.
I downed my beer, seeking solace in the drunken haze that soon overcame me.
One beer became two, and two became four. Before I knew it, Andy and I were throwing consequences out the window just like we used to. I was a fuck up in high school. I was a fuck up when I trashed Anton’s car. I was a fuck up when it came to Michelle. So why the fuck was I trying to act like I wasn’t a fuck up? I had money, sure. I had success, sure. But that success came from hitting people hard on the field and throwing a ball well. Now I employed people to do shit I couldn’t do and reaped the benefit from it. There was no specialty there. No hidden talent. Just a fucked up kid with a fucked up world and a fucked up past who was a fuck up in high school and got lucky.
Maybe it was time I embraced my true destiny of being the best fuck-up ever.
After all, what kind of man boasted of money but nothing else? I didn’t have a woman. Hell, I’d never had a successful romantic relationship. Ever. The women surrounded me because I had money. Not because they liked me. Some women flocked to me because of my athletic prowess. Or my fame. But most came after my money. And it same reason was why I didn’t keep many friends. Especially after leaving the NFL. Getting attached was a flaw in a person’s chemical makeup. Getting attached allowed someone to get taken advantage of.
And I wasn’t ever going to get taken advantage of.
Ever.
“Fuck, why are you sitting here talking about the good old days when we could have them right now?” Andy asked.
I chugged my sixth beer back as he slung his arm around my shoulder.
“We’re still young! We got wants! Needs! What the fuck are we doing hanging around here?” Andy asked.
“Fuck the past. So, let’s go do something,” I said.
“There’s the Gray I remember.”
“Well the two of you can go do something somewhere else. The two of you are cut off,” the bartender said.
I wiggled my fingers for another beer, but the bartender slid me a glass of water. I bent over the bar to try and grab me a beer, but he slapped my hand with his wet rag. Leaving behind a welt that stung like hell and back. Andy erupted into laughter as I stumbled back onto my bar stool, his body leaning back so far he fell onto the floor.
“Out. Now,” the bartender said. “Or I’m calling the cops.”
“Like this town has any decent ones,” I said, under my breath.
Andy was rolling on the nasty floor laughing as I stumbled out to my car. I was in no position to drive. That much I knew. So with my keys in my hand and my wallet in my back pocket, I stumbled my ass through downtown and back to Anton’s house.
Back to the place where that beautiful slice of pussy was.
