TouchBack (BWWM, Billionaire, Sports, Pregnancy) (3 page)

5.

              Stockard could not help but laugh. In the darkness he could just barely make out her face. Her outraged, very indignant looking face.

              "Is this how to trick women into going to bed with you?"

              "I had nothing to do with this I swear."

              She scowled at him and stood up, hastily straightening her clothing.

              "Veronica- wait. Just look outside."

              The whole city was dark. Surely she wouldn't think he orchestrated a citywide blackout just to get laid?

              Besides, it wasn't like he had a problem getting laid. He could have any woman he wanted.

              Well, almost.

              The only woman he wanted right now was her.

              Very, very badly.

              "Oh. Well I should be going anyway. This was- a mistake!"

              "Veronica. The elevators are out."

              "I'll take the stairs!"

              "We're thirty flights up. Besides, where will you go? It's not safe out there."

              He led her back to the sectional.

              "Just relax. I'm not going to bite you."

              He let his hands slide up and down her arms soothingly.

              "You're not?"

              She looked so young and innocent in the dim light that he almost felt guilty for the seduction he was planning. Her huge eyes were looking up at him with trepidation. And trust.

              She trusted him.

              And he was about to stomp all over that.

              But it wasn't to be helped. He wanted her and that's all there was to it.

              "No, I'm not."

              He leaned down and took her tempting lips again. He moaned at the contact. She tasted so sweet… and felt so good in his arms.

              She made a soft whimper as his hands slid over her body. He didn't grab at her the way he wanted to. Instead he teased them both, brushing lightly over her hips and those stupefying breasts of hers.

              She was breathless when he lifted his head a few minutes later.

              "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Alright?"

              She nodded, the trusting look back in her eyes.

              He grinned and guided her back onto the supple leather couch. First things first, he had to get her out of these clothes. If he was going to drive her wild with desire, he needed access.

              Luckily for him, he had excellent night vision.
              He pulled her top up and over her head and tossed it aside. He took in a deep breath at the sight of her; loose hair flowing over her shoulders, her firm high breasts in a plain white bra, skim gleaming in the moonlight.

              Jesus, she was beautiful
.

              Reverently he reached out to touch her, stroking her again and again without making a move to do anything more. His hands glided over her skin, barely touching her. He watched as she arched into his hands. She was ready for the next step.

              Slowly he unclasped her bra and tugged it away. Before she could feel the cool air he had one breast in his hand and the other was being laved by his tongue. She gasped as he teased her nipple to hard points.

              He groaned and ground his hips against her. He hadn't been this hard since he was seventeen. If then. It was the ultimate tease, having her on his couch but not sure how far it would go.

              If he had to stop, he was pretty sure he'd die.

              So he had to keep her wanting more.

              Wanting him.

**********

              Veronica was mindless, just a bundle of nerves. A feeling, wanting animal. She whimpered as he pulled her jeans off, as eager as he was to be naked for him.

              To be touched.

              It had been so long since she'd been with a man she could barely remember. But that wasn't the only reason she was so frantic. He was him.

              The way he looked, smelled, felt. But most of all the way he was touching her.

              Gently, but with purpose.

              He lay her jeans aside and slid his huge palms up her legs, reaching for her panties. He brushed his hands over them several times, making her moan incoherently. Then he took the edges between his finger tips and slowly pulled them down.

              Moments later she felt him kissing his way up her thighs. His breath fanned her sex, making her quiver in anticipation. Then his lips found her. And his tongue.

             
Oh...

              He was sliding his tongue lightly up and up the slit between her legs. She gasped, suddenly unable to catch her breath. No one had ever touched her that way, or given her pleasure in anything more than a perfunctory, let's get on with it kind of way.

              Stockard was taking his time.

              And then some.

              He stroked his tongue inside her, making her cry out. That's when his fingers started to dance over her clitoris. And she stopped thinking entirely.

6.

              The taste of her was driving him wild. Salty and tangy and oh so sweet.

             
Dayum.

              He was going to bring her to completion before he went any further. He had to. She was so tight, such a small and dainty woman, and he was… not.

              If he didn't prepare her, he'd tear her in two.

              Besides, Stockard had never wanted anything more than to make her cum.

              He picked up the tempo as his tongue dove inside her again and again. Each stroke he made sure to stretch her, open her up as much as possible. His fingers moved quickly too. It only took a little while before he felt the first flutters of her sugar walls.

              Veronica was going to cum.

              He redoubled his efforts, grabbing her hips in his hands and going to town. Her body arched up off the couch and he went with her, burying his face in her sweet honey pot.

              She was shuddering helplessly as he lowered her back to the couch. He ran his hands up and down her beautiful body soothingly. Then he leaned up to kiss her.

              "I want to take you to the bed."

              She nodded at him in a daze.

              He stood and lifted her in his arms. All warm, willing woman. He was smiling as he carried her to his bedroom. It was spartan, like the rest of the condo. But the bed was enormous. Custom made. He laid her down on the white coverlet. At last he could really see her, the outline of her skin visible even in the dark.

              He pulled his pants off and his erection sprang free. He didn't waste any time. He couldn't. He grabbed a condom from his bedside table and slid it down over his aching cock.

              Then he climbed on top of her, gentling easing her thighs apart.

              "Veronica… I want you."

              "Yes…"

              That was all the encouragement he needed. He guided the tip of his shaft to her slippery opening, pressing into her with a deep sigh.

              Gently he pushed forward, feeling her envelope him in her slick silky heat. He moaned as she gripped him, making more than the smallest movement possible. He eased back and forward in a small thrusting motion.

              After what felt like forever of the exquisite torture of holding himself back, he felt her start to quiver around him.

              "Oh!"

              "Yes, Veronica. Oh yes…"

              He grunted as her body clenched down on him in an epic orgasm. Her body released, allowing him to slide deeper. And then he got to work.

              Steadily he circled his hips into hers as she shuddered beneath him in an ongoing orgasm. She was making soft high keening sounds, like an animal.

              A sweet, delectable little animal.

              He tried to go slow, to hold himself back, but she was too tight, too responsive.

              "Christ! Veronica- I can't-"

              With a groan he released inside her, his cock spasming as he pulsed out spurt after spurt of seed. He kept thrusting, pumping his essence deep inside her. It felt incredible, better than anything he'd ever felt before. It felt… too good.

              He lay on top of her, bracing himself on his arms to keep from crushing her. At last his cock was still. He kissed her forehead and slowly pulled himself out.

              His hand was sopping wet when he grasped his cock. He knew what had happened instantly. A small part of him rejoiced even as his mind started to whir.

              Oh no.

             
OH NO.

              "Veronica… I think the condom broke."

*********

              Around 4 am the lights came back on.

              Veronica blinked and looked over at Stockard. He was asleep with a faint smile on his face. She was glad that
someone
was happy.

              She'd been staring at the ceiling in the darkness, wondering what the hell she was going to do. Should she take the morning after pill? Her upbringing was strict and religious. The morning after pill was terminating a life. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

              It was in God's hands now.

              He'd given her more pleasure than she'd ever experienced in her life. Way, way more.

              And he may have given her a child.

              She sighed and gingerly climbed out of the bed.

              This had been a one time thing. Completely out of character for her. And she suspected, for him as well. The darkness, their mutual attraction, it had been too much to resist.

              But it would never happen again.

              And if there was a child, she'd deal with it. There was no need to involve him. She'd give it up for adoption. Or raise it. She'd always wanted to be a mother. Of course this was not the way she'd imagined it.

              Not this soon. And not with a stranger.

              She tip toed to the other room and put her clothes on as quietly as possible.

              It was a shame really. She really did like him. She had a strange feeling that under different circumstances, she might even be able to love him.

              But this was the real world. He was a pro athlete and she was a nobody. Well, a nobody for now. And she'd be damned if she let herself be known for being yet another gold digging sports ho.

              Nuh uh. Not Mama Franklin's baby girl. She stood on her own two feet.

              No matter what.

              She took one look around the apartment and mentally said goodbye to the gorgeous, kind, sleeping man in the bedroom.

              Then she opened the front door and closed it softly behind her. She knew she would not be back. She rode the elevator with a heavy heart and ignored the curious stare of the doorman standing at attention in the building's lobby.

              She stepped into the night.

7.

              Stockard rolled over, reaching for Veronica. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Not without making love to her again.

              At least twice.

              He frowned when his hand found only cool sheets. He opened his eyes to see an empty bed, woefully missing one delightfully naked young woman.

             
Where the hell was she?

              He rolled to his feet and pulled his jeans on.

              "Veronica?"

              Nothing.

              She hadn't just left had she? She wouldn't. Not after the passionate night they'd spent together.

              He wandering out into the open living space.

              But she had.

              He frowned, a feeling of discontent settling in his stomach.

              She'd left without a word. Every fiber of his being was wanting to hold her right now. Make her breakfast. And make love to her again.

              It hit him like a ton of bricks.

              He was in trouble.

              Deep, deep trouble.

              He wanted her to be his. Not just for the night.

              For the first time in his life, he wanted
more.

              Obviously, Veronica was going to need some convincing. But he hadn't got this far in life by just giving up. No, he had some plans to make. He'd be strategic. He'd be relentless.

              He would
win.

              He made himself some coffee and called her newspaper to get her phone number. Sure it was Saturday but they'd give it to him. He scribbled the number down on a piece of paper and picked up his phone.

              He wasn't going to call her though.

              He was just going to get her those interviews.

              If it meant so damn much to her, maybe she'd thank him properly this time.

**********

              Veronica scowled at her lap top. One of her roommates was watching television in the other room. That's not why she was having so much trouble concentrating though.

              It was Stockard.

              She could still feel him on her skin. His lips on her lips.

              Inside her.

              She'd showered thorough, determined to wrap up the project and put him firmly out of her mind.

              So far, that wasn't going so well.

              First of all, she had very little to work with. Her editor was breathing down her neck for something, anything to publish. It wasn't going to be much of a story but she had to find some sort of twist to put on it.

              Anyway, she wasn't going to stick around after this. She had plans. It was time to move on.

              But most of all she was missing him.

              How could he have gotten to her so quickly? He probably had already forgotten about her. He had women throwing themselves at him constantly she knew. She was the silly fool who wanted more.

              No, no, no.

              Wake up little girl. Big football players do not fall in love with unknown reporters. Maybe if she was a movie star. Or a model.

              But she wasn't. She was just an ordinary person. And he was… not.

              Her phone rang. She glanced at him, praying it wasn't her editor. It was an unknown number. She answered it.

              "Is this Veronica Franklin?"

              "Yes."

              "This is Big Jay Robbins. You wanted to interview me?"

              Her jaw dropped open. Was this really happening? He'd stone walled her along with the rest of the team. All except Stockard…

              Did he have something to do with this?

              "Yes! Is this on or off the record."

              "On."

              She grabbed her notes and began the interview. The moment she hung up her phone it rang again. Another unknown number.

              "Hello?"

              "Hi, this is Bill Jenkins. Is this the reporter?"

              By the time five o'clock had rolled around she'd spoken to five members of Stockard's team, two baseball players and a basketball player.

              The very last call had been from a female tennis star.

              She stared at her phone. She knew in her heart that Stockard had done this for her.

              He'd given her a story.

             
Heck, he'd given her a career.

              It didn't mean anything really. It didn't mean he wanted to be with her. It just meant that he was a really, really nice guy.

              She swallowed back sudden tears and got to work.