Page 10 of Playing for Keeps
MercedesGirl926: So deep I would feel completely full. I’d like that very much.
Del: How much? Enough that you would use your fingers to act as if I were actually there with you right now?
In the time that Del waited for a response, he used a hand to grab his erection, wrapping his fingers tightly around its base and squeezing.
MercedesGirl926: We do it at the same time. Five seconds after you read this message, put your phone down and act as if I were there.
He groaned after reading those words. Was he really doing this? He was a thirty-one-year-old man who was more than capable of finding a date and having a woman in his bed at any moment. He didn’t have to resort to sexting or online dating of any sort. Yet, here he was, wanting desperately to do anything she said.
He placed the phone on the table beside the recliner and lay his head back against the cool leather. She’d said he should act as if she were there with him. What would he do if she were? What would he want her to do?
Del wanted her legs wrapped around him, just as he’d said. Still able to see the picture she’d sent clearly in his mind, he closed his eyes and imagined both long, dark brown legs rubbing against his waist. Her skin would be smooth, legs strong as she lifted her hips and adjusted herself so the bare flesh of her center could ease down over him. His hand began to move over his length. Up and down in a series of quick motions. He imagined her wherever she lived, lying on her bed, legs spread, fingers working her hot pussy, the way he was working his dick.
If he were there with her, he’d put his mouth where her fingers undoubtedly were now. He’d suck the plump folds of her pussy, press his tongue against the tight bud of her clit. Del’s hand moved slower for a moment as he circled his wrist, up and then back down again. His breathing quickened until he could hear himself panting loudly. In his mind she was moving her hips now, lifting them slightly off the bed. Two fingers would ease into her moist opening while the other pressed against her clit. She would arch her back and moan. Del’s ministrations grew faster. He pumped mercilessly into his hand. Her fingers would move faster, sliding in and out as her essence dripped slowly. She was panting now. He could hear her sweet, sex-husky voice echoing in his head. His mouth was open as his panting turned to all out moans, his hand moving faster while the other gripped the arm of the recliner. He lifted his hips, pumping fiercely while swirling his wrist, his hand creating a magnificent friction up and down his rigid length. She would scream with her release. Del grunted and moaned as his spurted and oozed down his hand. He thrust his hips in a stiff motion, still pumping his length until his heart beat as if it might thump right out of his chest.
When his breathing had almost returned to normal, Del stood. He walked into the bathroom and cleaned himself before returning to his bedroom and pulling on a pair of shorts. He removed the towel from the recliner and tossed it into the hamper before picking up his phone from the table. There was no new text or message from MercedesGirl926.
Del moved toward his bed. He plugged the phone into the charger and sat down heavily.
Was he making a complete fool of himself for a woman he might never see?
You were wonderful last night.
Rylan read the text for the hundredth time today while sitting in her car. She’d just pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine when she took her phone off the car charger and was about to slip it into the back pocket of her jeans. She was heading into Game Changers for a much-needed drink. To say it had been a rough day at the shop would be an understatement.
Yet each time she’d read the message GCSports18 had sent a little after ten this morning, she somehow felt better. Just like last night, or rather even earlier this morning as she’d lay in her bed waiting for his nightly messages as if she were some love-struck teenager. Who was she kidding? Rylan hadn’t experienced a soul-shattering crush, or any form of unrequited love as a teenager, because she hadn’t dated until Ty Givens, one of the students in her trade school class. Just as puberty had seemed to skip right over her, so had experience with boys. Still, Rylan witnessed her fair share of tears and hopelessness by way of Camy who fell in and out of love with the speed of light. Her best friend had always been prettier and shapelier than Rylan. Just as Naomi was, but Rylan refused to keep count of the bad breaks she was dealt in life.
Why did GCSports18 only contact her in the middle of the night?
That thought sprang to mind as Rylan slipped the phone into her back pocket and pressed the button on her keychain to engage the alarm system on her car. The 1969 Mercedes 280SL Roadster was Rylan’s sixteenth birthday present from her father, and thus her most cherished possession. She crossed the street and reached for the front door of the bar but paused before pulling it open because another thought occurred to her. A thought that made her feel sick to her stomach and angry as hell.
What if GCSports18 was married? Was that why he only messaged her at night? When his wife and perhaps his kids were in bed asleep while he sat in his den having phone sex with her?
Her cheeks warmed and she yanked the door open. The noise from a full house at the bar greeted her. Music sounded in the background while on the wall of televisions directly across from the bar college football games, MSNBC, a music video channel, and a documentary on Serena Williams played. She waved at Maxie who was at the hostess stand using the tablet to find seating for the next person in the short waiting line and kept moving until she was on the red plush carpeted stairs that led up to the Skybox. The rope that usually blocked the space and signaled a private event was in progress on the upper level was down, so she was allowed to go up to the quieter area in the bar.
Rylan needed to unwind. She was being stiffed for a four-thousand-dollar bill and holding the 2016 Lamborghini Aventador hostage wasn’t as effective as she’d planned. She needed that money and about twenty-one thousand more in order to make the down payment and get the small business loan from the bank.
“Hey Slick!”
Rylan looked toward the bar where Rock was standing and lifted a hand to wave at him. She’d thought about dropping down into one of the red leather couches and ordering a steady flow of vodka shots until she passed out, but sitting at the bar gazing at the six foot four Samoan former pro wrestler definitely had its own decompressing benefits.
“Hey. Quiet up here tonight,” Rylan said while sliding onto a bar stool.
Rock wore jeans and a fitted gray t-shirt with the Game Changers name and logo on the left side. His inky black hair was pulled back and most likely bound by a black ban as usual. Rylan never considered herself a fan of long hair on men, but Rock definitely pulled it off well.
“Yeah. I opened up here as overflow for downstairs. But only the regulars know to come on up,” he said. “What can I get you?”
“Vodka,” she replied and held up a finger.
Rock raised one thick eyebrow in question.
She rolled her eyes. “Alright, put it in a glass with ice to water it down, Dad,” she snapped, exaggerating the last word.
Rock’s family lived down the street from her while they were growing up. He had two older sisters that Naomi hung out with, but Rock felt as if he were a big brother to all four of them. At that time, he’d been a pain in the ass, but Rylan had missed him terribly in the years he’d been away at college and then traveling on the wrestling circuit.
He smiled and gave her a nod. “Good girl.”
“I am over the legal drinking age, you know,” she countered.
