What the fuck was that? I’ve been at every event she’s had in the city with no issues. I even thought about flying to see her at LA Fashion Week one night after too many rum & cokes. Luckily I fell asleep before the travel site loaded and I graduated to a bona fide stalker.
Now, all of a sudden, she’s looking at me? Basically eye-fucking me? I guess I didn’t mess things up as badly as I thought. Either that or I’ve been batting in the wrong league all my life and I could’ve been bagging models this whole time. Not that I want justanymodel.
I drop onto the sofa, my head into my hands.
God, I hope I get the position I interviewed for today. Waiting to approach her while I get my shit together is one thing, but ifshecomes ontome, I know I’m cooked. I’m not gonna say no to Kendra Gray. Eyes that seem to change color daily, wild auburn hair I want to run my fingers through, hips thick and strong enough to handle a guy my size? And she’s a flirt? There’s no one on Earth who could resist that.
I lift the waistband of my sweats to find my dick still hard.Fuck.That’s not going down without a fight.
I push my pants down to my knees, raise my shirt, and pull my dick from my boxers. The thick weight falls into my hand, and I grasp it with pressure perfected over years of practice. I stroke slowly, almost idly, from the base of my shaft, over my head, and back down again. Every few strokes I tease the underside of my head where it flares into the engorged tip.
Her eyes looked copper today, picking up the flash of the cameras and reflecting like a shiny penny. Her lips were parted, seemingly in invitation. As if waiting for me to push my swollen cock past her pouting lips and into the warmth of her mouth.
I grip my length tighter, quickening my pace.
That fucking mouth!I’m helpless against it. In tonight’s fantasy, she smirks that fucking smirk, eases her tongue out, then swallows me down, letting me feel the suction in her cheeks, the constriction of her throat.
She’s not wearing a tasteful gown; she’s naked. Of course she’s naked. Why hide perfection? The spread of her hips, the light dimples on her strong thighs, the bell-shaped breasts. They’re not the biggest, but they’re still lush, brushing the inside of my thighs as she pulls me in deeper, gagging lightly on my girth.
“Urgh! F-fuck! Ugh!” I grunt out, releasing onto my belly, just shy of my shirt. I’m breathing heavily and my eyes nearly cross, but my dick finally softens.
I grab a tissue from the coffee table. While I’m cleaning up, the phone rings.
“Hey, baby bro,” I answer after checking the caller ID. I throw the used tissue out and straighten out my clothes.
“Yo, what happened to calling after your interview? Or at least a text.” There’s a smile in Adam’s voice, but I can hear the hurt too. He’s feeling the new distance between us just as much as I am.
“My bad, bro. I ended up going to that event Noah had tickets for. Remember?”
“Oh.” He blows out a breath, sounding disconcerted. “Right. Well, I want to talk about that, but first: how did the interview go?”
I smile hesitantly.
“It went great. I mean…I think it went great. I guess we’ll find out if I get a call back.”
“Ah, you’ll get it, man. You know basketball better than anyone I know.”
“I guess…Like I said, I think it went well. It lasted over an hour.” I lean back onto the couch, settling into the call. “It’s just hard to feel confident when I’m at such a career low point. Like…I feel like my mojo is off or something.”
“Is that why you chickened out with Kendra?” he asks very unhelpfully.
“I didn’t chicken out!” I protest a bit too loudly. If he were here, I know he’d be rolling his eyes at me.
“Dude. We all saw you chicken out. What I’ve been trying to figure out is why. Especially if you’ve been following her around like a puppy ever since.”
“I’m not acting like a puppy!” I object again, but Adam’s laughing now.
“Like a tiny golden retriever who isn’t even housebroken yet. Running around, bumping into stuff, and generally making a mess of things.”
Adam just laughs harder when I grumble.
“I will admit I messed things up with Kendra. And yes, there’s a slight crisis of confidence happening. I don’t have a job!” I scoff. “I didn’t have a place at the time; not really. Not one I could takeherto. As a washed up basketball player, I don’t have a lot going for me.”
He makes a small sound of disagreement.
“That’s bullshit, bro. You just got done playing over a decade of professional basketball. And didn’t you win a championship for Portugal?”
“Spain, bro,” I correct.
