Cleat Chaser (16 page)

The high ceilings arched up to form a dome in the center and were painted with murals that looked like something from the Sistine Chapel.

“Follow me, Mr. Holliday. You’re a little early but I have a spot for you.” He gave me a slight nudge. “I put you back in the corner to try and give you some privacy.”

“I appreciate that. This is an important dinner.” I tugged at my collar while people glanced as we passed.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. If you have problems, just ask for Sal.” He beamed with pride at the sound of his name.

“Oh, this is your place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve never been, but I’ve been meaning to try it out. It’s really nice.”

“Thank you, sir. Ah, here we are.” He waved an arm to display the table. It was still fairly close to the others, but was definitely the most secluded in the place that I could see.

“It looks great. Thanks, Sal.” I took a seat as he placed a menu in front of me and one for Kyrie across the table. “Hey, I’m meeting someone—” I realized he must have known that since he put an extra menu down.

“I will take care of it, Mr. Holliday.” He picked up the unlit glass candle, pulled a fancy lighter from his pocket, and made a show of lighting it. He set it back down in the middle. “You prefer privacy during your dinner, right sir?”

“Yes, please.”

“I will instruct Marco to keep his distance unless you call him over. He’s my best server.”

“That would be awesome.”

“My pleasure. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Holliday.”

He turned on his heel and started to walk off.

“Hey, Sal?”

Sal whipped back around and stood at attention. “Yes sir?”

“You said your son’s a fan? What’s his name?”

“Sal junior, sir. Short for Salvatore.”

I pulled a baseball card from my pocket and a pen. They always came in handy, and I hated not having something to sign any time a kid walked up and asked for an autograph. It was my dad’s suggestion, though it wasn’t really a suggestion at all.
Don’t you forget where you came from and how you idolized your favorite players
, he’d always say.

I didn’t know how the fuck to spell Salvatore so I scribbled ‘To Sal, All the best, Easton Holliday’. “Will you give this to him for me?” I held out the card.

Sal took the card and shook my hand once more. “Thank you again, Mr. Holliday. He will
love
this.”

“No problem. And call me Easton, please.” I stuck the pen back in my pocket.

“Yes sir, Mr. Easton.” He turned and strode away.

I chuckled then glanced to my phone. It was 7:50 p.m. Each second that ticked away left my palms sweatier than the last. Waiting like this was what I did for a living in the bullpen, but waiting for Kyrie was a whole different ballgame.

From the table, I had a decent view to the front of the restaurant. Time seemed to crawl as eight approached, and the seconds seemed like hours. Marco brought me a glass of water and I took a sip.

Eight passed, and my stomach was officially twisted in knots. My plan was to take a sip of water before she got to the table, so it seemed like that was why my hands were clammy.
Good one, Easton.

When I glanced to my phone and it read 8:05 p.m., my leg grew restless under the table. Sweat beads formed on my forehead, and I peeled off my blazer and started to drape it over the back of my chair when Marco swooped in out of nowhere and took it for me.

At seven past eight I rolled my sleeves halfway up my forearms. The whole time I kept my eyes trained on the door, only straying to check the time. My fingers drummed on the table, loud enough that I caught someone staring and stopped.

Ten after eight and panic started to rise in me. I had no new messages and Kyrie was always punctual.
I should have sent her a longer message. I’m going to kill that fucking dick bag from the drive thru.

I heard a ruckus up front as a crowd of people showed up and I couldn’t see a thing. Fuck. I fought the urge to scream at them to get out of the way.

Sal walked over and chatted with someone in the middle of the pack. It must’ve been a large party of some kind. There was a section of tables across the restaurant pushed together that sat empty.

Sal disappeared into the crowd and then quickly reappeared at the front. He glanced over to me and winked, then ushered the large group over toward the tables. Why was he winking at me? I figured it was just him being friendly.

As they cleared, I caught glimpse of a pair of robin’s egg blue heels, attached to a pair of long legs. I moved my gaze up to her light yellow summer dress wrapped in a white cardigan. Then I saw Kyrie’s face as she craned her neck and scanned the room. My breath hitched and all the heat in my face was replaced with a strange tingling sensation. Sal bolted back to the entrance and greeted her, smiled, and then nodded over to our table.

I started to raise my hand to wave, and stopped halfway, afraid I might be sporting some full moon pit stains. She followed Sal, her green eyes locked onto mine, brown hair curled in long waves that bounced around her shoulders. When they made it halfway to the table I stood and got a new view of the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Her smile was electric, shocking all my senses at once; and I noticed she wasn’t wearing near as much makeup as the first time we met. She was perfect.

“Mr. Easton, this lady says she’s here to meet you. If she hadn’t told me that I might’ve tried to have dinner with her myself.”

“I appreciate your self control, Sal. You’re a stand up guy.” I didn’t move my eyes from her face, and I never wanted to.

Sal pulled out Kyrie’s chair as we stood in front of one another. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. Easton.” He smiled and walked away at a brisk pace.

She stood a few feet away and stared, a shy grin fixed on her face.

“Hi.” She gave a slight shrug.

“Hi.”

I couldn’t stop staring at her. It was like a dream I sometimes had where I was frozen stiff, unable to move or speak. Finally, I broke out of my trance.

“You want to sit down?” I motioned to the table.

“We probably should.” She started to twirl one of her long curls around her finger and stopped herself.

I nodded at Marco as we sat. He brought over a bottle of wine I’d already picked out.

“I don’t know if I should drink, Easton. Remember last time?”

Fuck. I should’ve consulted Kase on the wine situation.
I waved Marco back over.

“What are you doing? I’m not ready to order.” Her head canted slightly.

“I’m having him throw the wine out.”

Her hand went to the bottle before Marco could take it away. “Let’s not be hasty. I said I didn’t know if I should.” She grinned.

“Okay.”

Marco left the bottle on the table.

“Sorry to run you back and forth, Marco. False alarm.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” He walked back toward the kitchen.

“So.” I locked on to Kyrie’s face and examined all the details of her; pink lips, glowing cheeks, exposed neck. Her tits were pushed up slightly in the dress and it was cut just low enough to make my dick grow against my zipper. I tried not to stare. “Sorry about the short reply after all my texts and voicemails.”

“It kind of worried me.”

“I know. I just—You had agreed to give me a chance, and I-I didn’t want to screw it up before I got to see you. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

She exhaled a huge sigh. “I thought I’d waited too long and you were only agreeing to meet with me so you could tell me to kick rocks.”

I couldn’t even process the thought of telling her I never wanted to see her again. My mouth was incapable of uttering those words.

“I could never do that, Kyrie. Ever since I first saw you—you’re all I think about when I’m not with you.” I brushed my palms down my slacks.

Her face turned a light pink and her lips started to curl up at the corners. Then it ceased. “Easton, I’m sorry for not being fair to you. I truly am. And I’m sure you got more information than you needed out of Nikki, because she loves you to death. But—”

Oh no.
I braced for her words to cut me, deep.

“—those pictures, and all the girls. It still doesn’t sit well. That’s not your fault, and maybe I just need some time to get past it. But I was engaged to a baseball player for the Ravens. He was traded, but not before he broke my heart.” She looked down at her empty plate, the first time she’d broken eye contact with me.

“I’m sorry.” What else could I say? I planned to find out who the guy was, gut him, and impale him on the foul pole for the world to see. But I couldn’t tell Kyrie that. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” I wasn’t going to press her for his name. Not yet.

“It’s fine, Easton. I thought I was hung up on the guy still. But Nik helped me realize, that, well, I was over him when I saw you.”

My heart sped faster with each word she spoke. I reached out for her hands and held them on each side of the candle.

“I promise, I was just single and being a dumb kid in those photos. It was stupid to be so careless, I realize that now. But, I never expected to meet—
you
.”

I caressed her warm skin with my thumbs, back and forth as she leaned in closer over the table, my words drawing her nearer to me. Her tits strained slightly against the neckline of her dress and my hands on her skin had my cock threatening to burst out of my pants.

“I’m sorry, Easton. I-I swore off of baseball players after that. Hated them in fact. But you’re changing my mind. Slowly but surely.”

I put my elbows on the table and leaned on them, then lifted her left hand up, kissed the back of it, and pressed it to my cheek. Her eyes shut for a moment, and I hoped she felt the same bit of euphoria I did whenever we touched.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she batted her eyelashes.

“Kyrie?” My voice was raspy, full of more emotion than I even knew I had.

“Yeah?”

“I just want to be with you.”

She flipped her palm over and slid it up my cheek and then back down, holding my gaze. “Then take me. I’m yours.”

K
YRIE

M
Y BACK SLAMMED
into the wall next to Easton’s apartment door. His hands roved my body, his mouth crushing mine in a kiss that seared a trail down my body to my pussy.

“Fuck.” He gripped my wrists and pinned them to the wall next to my head, his mouth tracing down my neck as he wedged his knee between my thighs.

Biting my throat, he began to rub his thigh against my pussy, making me moan loud and low.

“Easton, your neighbors.” I gasped as he squeezed my wrists harder and kissed to the swells of my breasts.

“Fuck the neighbors.” He licked the top of the left one, and I arched my back from the wall.

I closed my eyes as he licked the other breast before darting his tongue between them. All the while, he worked my pussy with his leg until I couldn’t help but to grind on him, the need building to a fever pitch.

When he ran his teeth across my hard nipple through the fabric of my dress, I cried out. He released one wrist and clapped his hand over my mouth as he bit down harder. I moaned into his palm and writhed against his leg. Moving to my other breast, he teased at my nipple, his mouth wetting my dress and his teeth clamping down as I became a slave to every sensation he sent careening through me.

He pulled back and stared into my eyes, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half hooded. His brown hair shot up every which way thanks to me running my hands through it during our make-out session in his truck. He looked like sex. A tingle shot down my spine.

He caged my throat with one hand as he dug in his pocket with the other. It was odd, possessive, and made my panties combust. Ramming his key into the lock, he turned it with a quick movement and gripped my forearm pulling me inside. He slammed the door behind us and ran his hands to my ass, lifting me and pressing my back into the door. His hard cock rubbed against my pussy, and I let out a cry of surprise when he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head to the side.

My heels tumbled to the floor, the only sound in the apartment other than our breath and our bodies.

His mouth on my neck had me clawing at his thick shoulders, but he didn’t let up, only kissed and sucked until all I could think about was him inside me.

He moved his hips against me, his cock stroking me as his mouth mastered every inch of bare flesh on my neck and chest.

“I need this off. Now.” He stood me up and started pulling at the hem of my dress.

I shed my cardigan and tossed it onto his couch as he pulled my dress up. I held up my arms and he peeled it off me. I only wore a pair of lacy white panties underneath.

“Jesus.” His hands went back to my ass, and he lifted me so I straddled him as he strode down the hallway toward his bedroom. I couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his tongue wicked with each stroke and tease.

He set me down on his bed. I didn’t even glance around. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He made quick work of his button down, tossing it the floor. His muscles were well defined, his upper arms thick and his abs rippling. I licked my lips and let my gaze fall to the bulge in his pants.