SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(76)
Donald from Dunlop said something to her, and she smiled and responded. He didn’t look good, and Clive was talking to her again. The bartender handed me a tray of drinks and I decided to steal back to my table, resolving to catch up with her later when she might be alone.
Summer
After Clive and the motor oil lady apologized for Donald, I was left alone at our table. The warming glow of scotch made me feel a little light-headed myself, so I decided to use the room I’d booked rather than drive home. Which meant I could treat myself to another before I retired.
At the bar, it was a struggle to be served. Ordinarily, I could just lean forward, show a little cleavage, and be attended to quickly, but the staff were being run ragged. Consequently, I ended up standing there long enough to get hit on by one Spaniard, two Italians, and an Australian. I diverted them all with a gentle smile. The Australian was the easiest to deter. I just spoke Spanish to him, and he gave up quickly.
I felt like indulging in a little stress relief after the disastrous night I’d had, and coupled with last night’s breakup with Derek, I felt I deserved it. Some dirty, physical, no-bullshit sex might be just what the doctor ordered, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized this could be almost the perfect venue. There was a wide selection of rich, good-looking guys, and almost all of them were looking for a one-night hookup.
The only fly in the ointment was that I was five-two, five-six in these heels, and I liked a man to tower over me, to physically dominate me. I liked it when I had to bend my head back and nearly break my back to enjoy a passionate kiss. I liked a man who could lift me off the floor and fuck me against a wall. Here, though, I seemed to be as tall or even taller than most of the men. Short stature must be an advantage in their sport, like a horse-racing jockey. Unfortunately, it was not attractive to me.
I stepped out for some air, onto a terrace on the west side of the banquet hall. It might only have been April, but even approaching midnight, the Texas air was warm and dry and smelled sweet. The terrace looked out over the hotel’s rounded swimming pool and beyond, over grasslands, trees, and the night-black waters of the Colorado River. I wondered where that guy from earlier had run off to.
He had looked to be over six feet, with some muscle to him. I had an image in my head. I don’t know where it came from, but it was of him. His neat, swept-back hair fell in tousled strands over his face. His face was above me, intimately close to mine, while he pushed himself inside me. Wow. I could almost feel him deep within me. The feeling was so strong I had to lean against the rail to steady myself.
That was intense. I must have been hornier than I realized. I counted on my fingers, and yes, it had been over ten days since I last had sex. Even longer since I last touched myself. It had been such a busy couple of weeks, I hadn’t realized. Poor Derek. No wonder he was so upset. Everything about us began to make more sense now.
“I hope you’re okay,” a man’s voice said from behind me. I looked around and, of course, there he was. “You look a little unsteady…do you need to sit?”
“I’ll be okay, thank you.” I tried to smile but my mouth felt dry. I don’t normally suffer from embarrassment, but I felt a heat rise in my cheeks, as if what this man had done to me in my imagination had been broadcast in a big technicolor cartoon thought bubble above my head and he had seen everything.
“If you’re sure,” he said. A little self-assured smile crept across his face, so I was certain he somehow knew exactly what I was thinking. Maybe sensing my discomfort, he looked out across the river. “Quite a view, isn’t it? I confess, I used to think Texas was all dry deserts, cactuses, and sun-bleached steer skulls.”
“You’re thinking of Arizona.”
“Yeah, that’s it. I get confused by all the states and countries after a while,” he mused. “Looking at the landscape, who can tell Germany from Britain, or Japan from Australia? You know?”
“I’m an Austin native, so you’re asking the wrong gal,” I told him.
He laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you trip over all the names I was dropping.”
It was my turn to laugh. “You’re forgiven.”
I turned and looked at him as he took in the scenery. He was definitely much bigger than the bike racers inside—had to be six-two and two hundred pounds. He was also much older, at least mid-thirties, and wore a suit and shirt that were very expensive, as were his watch, cufflinks, and shoes. In the soft light from the braziers on the terrace, I saw a class ring glint on his finger. When he took a sip, I made out the MIT logo on it; he must be some sort of high-priced engineer. Either that, or I was actually talking to Tony Stark without his Iron Man suit. I couldn’t quite place his west-coast accent, which made sense if he’d been traveling the world for years.
“So, I take it you travel around with a race team?” I asked him.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, turning to me, “why don’t we keep it simple? I know you’re from Austin, you know I travel. I’m James.” He extended a hand, which I held for a second.
“Summer.”
“And let’s leave it at that. No last names, no jobs, no history, no baggage. Just be who you want to be for tonight. What do you say?” That self-assured smile was infectious.
The corners of my mouth started to turn upwards as I stared into his face. I felt a definite tingle deep inside my shamelessly hungry vagina at the thought of a completely anonymous one-night stand with this guy. It would have been even hotter if I’d used a fake name. Shame I didn’t think of it in time. I wondered if he was really called James.