Drunk and Disorderly (Love in the City Short) (4 page)

BOOK: Drunk and Disorderly (Love in the City Short)
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Glancing back at Coop, I see him pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. He points a receiver toward the sports car and I hear a beeping sound. I’m assuming this signals the doors of
his
car are unlocked now.

I guessed right, but what the heck does this guy do? I can’t even imagine how much a set of wheels like this costs. Likely more than the entire year’s salary of the art teaching position I interviewed for this morning.

“Wow, Coop,” I say walking toward his car and standing by the passenger door. “This is magnificent.”

“Thanks, I’ve had it a couple of years. She’s my baby.”
His baby?
Spoken like a true guy. Boys and their toys. It’s so true.

But this is more than a toy, it’s a statement that says,
Hey I’m rich. Look at me.
Now more than ever, I really think this guy’s totally out of my league.

“I bet it’s a chick magnet too.” I speak before I can catch myself. Those words would’ve been better thought than actually said. But I can’t take them back now.

“Well, it’s not a deterrent,” he retorts sarcastically. I feel him at my side, his body lightly touching mine as his hand rests momentarily on my back. Even this slight connection between us makes me want to check my back and see if it’s smoking where we’re touching, the feeling between us is so hot and sizzling.

Coop opens the door for me. He’s definitely scoring points for being a gentleman. But once I slide into the seat and feel the hot leather against my legs, I immediately scream.

“Holy shit. My legs!” I shout and push myself back out of the car. Coop’s arms grab my shoulders and hold me in place.

“Millie, I’m so sorry. I should’ve warned you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I think.” I turn around with the back of my legs facing him. “Do they look red?”

I’m looking at Coop over my shoulder and watch as he squats down behind me. His face is parallel to my ass. This close of an inspection is a little unnerving. I fear those little bitches called cellulite bumps might be right at his eye level. You know the ones I’m talking about. Cottage cheese on the legs.

“Not red, but definitely hot babe. Real hot.” He gently grazes his hand over the backs of my thighs. Just a whisper of a touch and I’m feeling like my legs are on fire again. The sensations he gives me, well, I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

He raises up beside me. I’m motionless. Still tingling.

“I have a clean t-shirt in the back of the car. I’ll put it on the seat. Those legs are going to stay protected. I might have plans for them later.” He winks at me while reaching in the back seat and grabbing a duffle bag.

Later? Plans? I watch him carefully prepare the hot seat for me. It’s sweet how concerned he is but going home with him is crazy, nuts. However, I don’t think I can or want to stop what’s already in full motion.

“Okay, my lady. Your seat awaits.” He’s such a charmer and I’m thinking he’s likely going to charm the shorts right off me.

“Thanks.” I ease into the car once again, holding the shirt in place. This time everything’s fine and the heat doesn’t reach my legs.

He walks around to the other side and I notice the expensive wood on the console. Gadgets and displays everywhere. He said he was looking for a new job too. It was something we both had in common, but what the heck did he used to do? He didn’t tell me much just that he had a job-related injury that made him leave his last position.

He opens his door and climbs in next to me. I watch as his legs fold and the rest of his tall body eases into the seat next to me. Even though we were closer sitting leg to leg in the bar, it feels more intimate in the car as he closes the door. We’re cocooned in this small space, like there’s no escape.

“I need to get the air blowing.” Coop pushes on a remote that’s located on a key chain and the car starts. I feel a cool blast of air hitting me right after the engine turns.

“I love your car. It’s so cool, literally. My car takes forever to cool down.”

“Well, I’m glad you left yours at your friend’s apartment.” I’d shared with him earlier that I was in Atlanta applying for a teaching job and was staying at Priscilla’s apartment across the street.

Ending up at Joe’s? Best damn thing I did today, maybe this week. Heck, likely my whole life, but I didn’t have a clue about this yet.

“Me, too.” A worry hits me. “Are you okay to drive? We’ve been drinking all afternoon. I’m not sure how I’m walking or talking, really.”

“I’m good. I had my usual at Joe’s. Lemonade. Straight up.” Oh, he’s not been drinking but making sure my drink was never empty.

“You’re kidding me. No alcohol?”

“None. I knew I’d be driving home.” He gives me a quick side-glance and I swear he looks apologetic. “But I promise to catch up when we get to my house.”

“You better. I’m light years ahead of you now.” I lightly punch his shoulder half in fun, half in anger for not joining in earlier with me.

 

Chapter 5

 

The ride in his car is quiet. I can’t even hear the hum of the engine. There’s complete silence until he turns on his radio and the bass reverbs all around me. In my semi-drunken state, it’s a bit overpowering. Like the band is playing live from the space behind us with the drummer hammering away on the back of my seat.

As we listen to Pit Bull tell us to not stop the party, good advice by the way, I watch Coop pull the car up to a gated community, one of those exclusive places where rich and powerful people hide, I mean live. I’ve never been behind a private gate until now.

“Is this where you live, Coop?” Still can’t figure this guy out.

“A lot of my friends live here and I liked the privacy.” What kind of friends does he have? Gazillionaires? He makes it seem like living here is no big deal. It isn’t if you can afford a million dollar plus home. The houses are enormous, beautiful with immaculate lawns, the kind that are tended by professional gardeners. Professional everything, really.

“It may be private, but I’m thinking a better word is impressive.”

“Thanks. It’s home to me.” Coop turns the car into a driveway where a palatial looking home sits back from the street. There has to be three acres surrounding this house.

“Is this yours?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice as the car approaches the now open garage.

“This is it. My home.”

“Your compound is more like it.”

He laughs, but seriously this place is unreal. I can’t even fathom what it must have cost him. I want to ask him what he does, or did before he was injured, but I can’t seem get up the nerve. Maybe I’m afraid he’ll say he robs banks or is a drug runner.

After entering the garage, he shuts off the car and turns to me. “Well, we’re here.”

“Yes we are,” I respond nervously looking anywhere but at him.

This is it. What I want and also what I’m worried about. I was all bravado and sass on my phone call with Priscilla. Those feelings are fading now that I’m facing reality. I hope to God I made the right choice.

“Sit here. I’ll come around and get your door.” Still as charming as ever.

Coop opens the door and escorts me out of the garage. He guides me with his hand placed against my back. The garage is detached from the house but a tall portico connects it to the house. It’s more for show than a protection from the elements and definitely grander than a porch. At least the porches in Augusta.

As we approach the main door, he pulls the key ring out of his pocket, inserts a key into a large brass lock, and opens the door. With a sweep of his hand, he invites me in.

I take a step over the threshold. No turning back now. I’m here and officially have crossed over the line into his lair. Looking around the open foyer, my eyes see the living room ahead of me. There’s a massive stone fireplace directly in front of me against a far wall. It’s more of a statement. I mean who really needs fireplaces in Atlanta?

There’s something unusual hanging above it though. The item appears to be in a shadow box. My legs move me toward it and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. An Atlanta Falcon jersey is encased in the large wooden frame with a glass covering. But what I make out on the black and red shirt stops me dead in my tracks. Across the back shoulder is the name,
Cooper
.

“Wait a second.
Cooper
?” And it all starts making sense to me. His car, this house I’m standing in, and his “job-related injury.” He’s a football player or was one.

Holy shit. If I were a fan of football, I most likely would’ve figured this out. But here’s a little tidbit for you. I hate football. Despise it actually. Love the sports player, hate the sport?

While trying to process what I’m seeing, I don’t hear Coop walk up beside me so I’m startled when I feel his touch on my arm.

“Sorry, Millie. Didn’t mean to make you jump.” I look up into his eyes and can tell he needs to know what I think about his being Mr. Football.

“Yes, I confess. I’m the Cooper on that jersey. Played here in Atlanta for nine years. Since I was a rookie.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I can’t believe this. Neither one of us got specific about our jobs when we were talking earlier, but this is a big oversight. Like a multi-million dollar one.

“I don’t know. I thought about saying something. But honestly, when you had no idea who I was. Well, that was a change for me.” His eyes have a serious look about them like he’s trying to drive home a point. “I wanted you to like me for me. Coop. Not some big NFL player.”

“I guess it’s hard when you meet people, wondering if they’re interested in you as a person or you the athlete. I get it. But truthfully, I’m not a big football fan. So I wouldn’t have been impressed if you’d told me.”

“So you’re not impressed?” he questions me with a smirk on his face. “Not even a little bit?”

“Jeez, I thought you wanted me to like you for you.” He’s confusing me now. “Make up your mind already.”

“Oh believe me, Millie. I’ve made up my mind.” He gazes at me. Something in his eyes unnerves me. Makes my stomach flutter, my breath hitch. “And it’s set on you. ”

He closes the gap between us and stands so close that we’re almost touching. Looking up at him, I can see want in his eyes. And I’m fairly certain I’m returning the same look back at him.

 

Here’s where things take a
really
sordid turn. I bet you’re saying,
“Finally. It took her long enough to get the good stuff.”
Sorry about the delay, but I needed a little more build-up. I hate looking like a wanton hussy too soon. Hopefully, my decision to get hot and heavy with Coop is more palatable now. At least I know he’s not a serial killer.

 

Coop wraps his strong arms around me. All of me presses against all of him. He’s a wall of steel. I feel his strength all around me. It has possessiveness to it. Like I’m his and not moving from his arms. Which is fine by me. His upper body lowers, bringing his head next to mine. I feel his lips on my neck kissing me in a small nibble-like fashion. But the effect his lips have on me isn’t small. It’s more like a gust of wind catching me off guard, making me unstable.

I let my body collapse into his arms, calming as his lovely assault continues on my partially exposed shoulder. The scruff on his jaw prickles my tender flesh driving me wild. But somehow I find my voice amid all the pheromones circulating between us.

“Coop, whatever’s going on here, it’s not my usual thing.” As I speak, his lips inch their way up behind my ear. The sensation makes it hard to concentrate. “Hook-ups aren’t me.”

But who am I kidding? He’s a pro-football player. Women likely drop to their knees on command for him. Trouble is I’ve never been one of
those
women before.

“I know.” His breathy words hit my ear. He’s almost panting. And that turns me on even more. “Just relax, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.”

And on command, I throw in the towel. Admit defeat. Give into the fire I’m feeling inside. But this is one battle where the surrendering party wins too. At least that’s my hope.

His mouth finally makes it to mine. Our lips unite and his hands push me farther into him. Like he’s hungry for me. Needy. My softness hits his hardness. Yes, that hardness! Impressive too. Everything about him is larger than life so I shouldn’t be surprised.

I push my hips forward against him in a grinding motion. And he responds by kissing me harder. One hand clasps behind my head while the other makes its way under the back of my shirt. I feel his fingers lightly stroking my skin. His touch. Skin to skin. It’s almost too much.

“God, you’re so soft,” Coop mumbles his words against my lips not wanting to break our connection. “I want you in my bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

And with that one tiny word, sets Coop off a series of motions. He bends and places one arm behind my knee. The next thing I know I’m airborne and being cradled in his arms baby style, pulled to his chest.

“Oh…” I let out a small cry when he’s lifting me from the ground, a reaction to his actions as they’ve caught me totally off guard.

He answers me by returning his lips back to my neck while drawing me up even higher in his arms. I fling my head back to give him better access, completely submitting to him.

I can’t believe what’s happening to me. It’s a scene from a movie. A page out of a romance book. That’s what this feels like, being totally swept off my feet and carried away. He’s my Rhett and I feel like Scarlett. We are in Atlanta after all. Now he’s moving and heading to his room, I think.

Let’s be honest, ladies. We’ve all dreamt about this kind of a swoony experience. A hot man finds you so desirable he can’t wait another second to have you. He’s not even willing to wait for you to walk to his bedroom. He waits you there
now
, so he takes matters into his own hands, literally.

His bedroom. After walking down a long, arched hallway, that’s where we are now. Even though it’s a bright afternoon, the sun hides behind dark stained plantation shutters that are closed snugly against the windows. Rays of light peak through tiny cracks in the slats, flickering across us as he transports me toward his bed.

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