Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

RIPLEY – AGE 23 { QUINCY – AGE 28}

I t's been a few months since Quincy and I got married.

I'm struggling with having married him under these circumstances. I'm struggling with what he mentioned about marriage and children. I'm struggling to keep this all from my best friend. I wish I had someone to talk to, but I can't exactly tell people that I have a fraudulent marriage.

Arizona and I talk every day, and I feel like the worst friend in the world. I've been out on a handful of dates. One of the men was even around for two months, but it's hard for me to be deceitful. I'm married to one man and dating another. What the fuck happened to my life?

The season went well. I edged out Arizona for the league's Rookie of the Year honors. We had a few good laughs about it. She's genuinely happy for me. That's the kind of friendship we have, which only makes lying to her feel that much more horrible.

It's the off-season, and I'm working at a clothing store. Professional softball players don't make a fraction of what professional baseball players make. I have to work to help make ends meet.

Quincy's new season just started back up. Ours doesn't start again for a few months. Not until mid-summer.

I couldn't help but go watch his first game pitching this season. Seeing him play makes me happy. It always has. And he's sexy as hell in his uniform, taking charge on the mound.

When I arrive back home from the game, I strip and take a long hot bath. I'm sitting there enjoying a glass of wine when there's a loud knocking at my front door. Crap. Who's at my door this late at night?

I quickly throw on my white silk robe and run to answer it.

Looking through the peephole, I notice that it's Quincy. I wonder why he's here. He hasn't been here since our wedding day. We ran into each other a few times when Drew and Emily were dating, but he broke her heart and that's in the past. It's been a while.

I open the door, and he looks me up and down in my state of undress. I'm quickly realizing that a flimsy silk robe wasn't the best thing to wear while answering the door.

I clutch the top closed as if that'll be better at shielding me. "Quincy? What are you doing here?"

"I saw you at the game."

He gives me a cocky smirk. He's so handsome in jeans, a black T-shirt, and his backward hat with his curls spilling out.

I narrow my eyes at him. "There were probably forty thousand people there. You noticed me?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "What can I say? You stick out to me, Shortcake."

My cheeks redden. I don't know why him calling me that always makes my heart race. It's a special term of endearment for me, and that fact does things to me .

"Is there something you need?"

He looks my body up and down while licking his lips before meeting my eyes. "I…umm…I'm just checking in on you. We haven't spoken in a while." He gives me a boyish grin. "Just trying to be a good husband."

I let out a laugh as I open the door wider in invitation. "Husband of the year, please come in."

He chuckles as he walks through the door, and I close it. We stand there a little awkwardly. I think we're both a little tongue-tied as to how to behave or what to say to the other.

He slides his hands into his pockets and rocks on his feet a bit nervously. "How have you been?"

"I'm good. I'm working at the mall. I feel like a teenager doing that again, but I need the money, and the hours are flexible so I can still get in my workouts."

His face falls. "I didn't realize things were so tough. I can help you out."

I shake my head. "Absolutely not."

"Does my sister have a job?"

"She does a little modeling for a few upstart softball brands. I think it keeps her afloat. I wish being a softball player was half as lucrative as being a baseball player."

He nods in understanding. "It should be. Maybe one day."

I motion toward my sofa. "Have a seat. I'm going to throw on some clothing."

He gently grabs my arm and pulls me toward the sofa. "No need." He winks. "I prefer you this way."

I sigh as I sit. "What are you really doing here? Do you want a divorce already? I'm game for that."

He lets out a laugh. "No. Definitely not. I honestly just stopped by to check on you and maybe hang out. We've been friends most of our lives. Is it so crazy that I want to check in now and then? "

I'm considering his words when he grabs my legs and swivels me so that I have to lay down and my feet are on his lap. He immediately starts kneading them. "I know how much you like this."

My eyes flutter and I think I let out a moan. "Oh god yes."

He freezes. "If you moan like that, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

I swallow hard. It's been a long time for me, and no man's touch has ever lit me up like his.

He continues rubbing. "How's your mom?"

I sigh, as I often do when her name comes up. "She's a handful, as always."

He lets out a laugh. "I get a kick out of her."

"You wouldn't if she was your mother."

"She was always there for you in her own special way. What about your father? I've never heard anything about him."

"Honestly, Quincy, I'm not convinced she knows who it is. You saw how she was always sleeping around. I tried for years to pry information from her, but I've never once had any question answered." I look down at my body. "I assume he was a big guy. That's about all I know. I don't even have a name."

"You could do a little investigatory work. There are professionals who could probably get you all the answers."

"That shit isn't cheap. I can't afford it."

"I'll pay for it."

"No. I don't want your money. Stop offering it. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Half of mine is yours, wife."

I smile. "You should have had me sign a prenup, Abbott. I could take your ass to the cleaners."

He lets out a laugh. "But you won't. Feel free though. I'd happily give it to you. It's stupid how much they pay us."

I nod. "Consider yourself lucky. "

"I do. I should send Arizona money."

"Ask her first. She's a prideful person. She might not want a handout."

"We'll see about that." He nods toward the television. "Let's watch a movie."

"How about T—"

"Don't even think about saying Top Gun . Anything else. I have nightmares about that movie. You and Arizona must have watched it ten thousand times as kids."

I giggle. "When he makes a fool of himself singing ‘You've Lost That Loving Feeling,' it's the most romantic thing I've ever seen in my life." I clutch my heart. "He has a terrible voice but did it for her."

He rolls his eyes. "Pick. Something. Else. Anything. Else. That scene gives me a nervous tic."

"Fine, Mr. Bossy Pants. Field of Dreams ?" I remember that was his favorite movie as a kid.

He enthusiastically nods. "Deal."

I fiddle with the remote and turn on the sweet baseball movie.

At some point he turns to me. "Did you know that Ben Affleck and Matt Damon are in this movie as extras? They were kids when it was filmed."

"I didn't know that. Is that one of your random, fun facts?"

He smiles. "It is. I brought our random fact thing to my team. One of the guys told us that one. I had no idea."

"I learned a lot at your family dinners."

"Tell me some of your favorites?"

"Hmm. Oh, I think it was Arizona who researched this fact. One in eighteen people have a third nipple. Every time I'm on a new team or start a new class, I look around and wonder which person there has a third nipple." I giggle. "Arizona and I used to make a game of it during classes we had together. Trying to guess who it was."

He gives me a knowing smirk. "I do the same thing."

We both laugh. It's so easy between us. He makes me smile.

We're only about half an hour into the movie when his hands start to travel higher up my legs.

"Quincy," I warn.

He gives me a mischievous grin. "Let's play the firetruck game. I'll run my hand up your leg and you say red light when you want me to stop."

"Red light."

He shrugs. "Sorry, firetrucks don't stop at red lights."

I let out a mock laugh. "Oh my god. That's horrible."

He winks as he moves his hands back to my feet. Admittedly, it feels nice.

The movie continues, as does the upward trajectory of his hands. I should stop him, but I don't. I love the feel of his hands on my body. His hands on my legs do more for me than anything other men have done to me in a long while, if ever.

It's not long before his hand slides under my robe and to my breast. He begins aimlessly running his fingers over my nipples. I can feel the pace of my breathing speed up. The throb between my legs builds.

He turns his face to me. "I remember how sensitive your nipples are."

I close my eyes and nod as I squirm on the sofa. My nipples are extremely sensitive.

His other hand is now on my inner thigh. I can't help but spread my legs a bit. I'm only human.

As soon as I do, he runs a finger through me. My hips buck of their own volition.

For a long time, he simply teases me, moving his fingers through me over and over, but never inside me until I'm panting for it. He knows exactly what he's doing, and I'm putty in his hands.

I shift my body down toward him, hoping he'll slide them in, but he doesn't.

When I've reached my boiling point, I breathe, "Quincy, do it."

He nods as he slowly slides a finger inside me. I can feel my walls tighten around him.

I hear him whisper, "Time to consummate this marriage, wife."

I must be fucked up because I want it too. Desperately.

His fingers that were on my breast move and begin to tug on the sash of my robe, but I clutch the top and hold it closed, not wanting to bare myself in the brightness of the room. "Let's turn off the lights."

He immediately withdraws his fingers from inside me. His face turns angry. "Why do we need to turn them off?"

My shoulders fall and I lower my head in shame. "Because I'm not comfortable with you seeing me under these bright lights. I don't look like the other women you sleep with."

"How do you know what the women who I sleep with are like?"

I suppose I don't. "I assume."

"Well, you assume wrong. They all pale in comparison to you."

I let out a long breath. I don't know if I can handle him saying things like that to me.

He stands, and I'm suddenly fearful he'll leave, but instead he grabs my hand and pulls me up. "Come with me."

As if I have a choice; he forcefully drags me toward my bedroom. His eyes search the room until they land on my full-length mirror. Pushing me until I stand in front of it, he immediately removes my robe before I can stop him .

As it falls to the floor, I look down and try to cover myself, but he grabs me by the wrists, pinning them to my sides. "Lift your head and look at yourself in the mirror, Ripley. Now."

Tears sting my eyes as I do, hating the reflection staring back at me. While Quincy made me feel good about myself the night we spent together and gave me a little more confidence with men, I still don't care for being seen in a well-lit room or in the harsh reflection of a mirror.

His eyes slowly drink my body in before they meet mine again. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"An overweight woman. One who, no matter how much she diets or works out, can never seem to have the body she wants."

He pulls his front flush to my back and thrusts his hips. His rock-hard boner pushes into my ass. "Can you feel what your body does to me?"

I nod.

"I've been hard since you opened that door in your little robe with your nipples taunting me, imagining all the things I want to do to you."

He slowly runs his fingertips over my hips. "Real women should have hips. Why would I ever want a woman to be built like a man with small, narrow hips? The day I first started to look at you as a woman, it was these hips," he squeezes them, "and this ass," he squeezes it, "that made my mouth water. It was the day I got drafted. Getting to fulfill my lifetime dream of playing professional ball should have been the subject of my obsession that day, but instead, it was your body I couldn't get out of my mind. The girl I watched grow up suddenly became a full-fledged woman. A stunning, sexy woman."

His hands move over my stomach. I try not to flinch. "Your skin is an unmatched shade of peaches and cream. I dream of the way it looks. How much it flushes when I touch you, like it is right now. How it smells like strawberries." He sinks his nose into my neck and audibly inhales. "You've always smelled like strawberries, Shortcake, since day one."

He cups my breasts and gives them both a hard squeeze. "These full tits star in my dreams. I ache to suck them again while watching you come undone. I bet I can give you an orgasm from simply playing with them the way I know you like it."

I think he might be right about that.

His hands move down to my thighs. I cringe at their thickness. There's nothing positive he could say about them.

"Men are solid and hardened. Why in the world would I want a woman to feel like that against my body? Real women should be smooth and soft like you. I love having something to grab onto when I move inside your body. It gets me off. You get me off."

I attempt to turn around, dying to kiss him, but he stops me. "Don't move until I tell you it's time. We're not done appreciating your body. I'll give you what you want when you give me what I want."

He tosses his hat to the side before he reaches back with one hand and removes his T-shirt. I can feel his warm, hard chest pressed to my back. I can smell his delicious aftershave. Power emanates from his every pore. He's so masculine and domineering.

Running his hands up my sides, he peppers kisses on my neck, causing my entire body to break out in goosebumps, and my nipples to harden to a near painful point. "I love your height." I'm about six feet tall, leaving him a few inches taller than me. "I hate the logistics of being with a small woman. It feels unnatural, but everything about being with you feels right. "

That's true. It feels right being with him. Nothing has ever felt more right for me.

I can both hear and feel him unfastening his belt. Before I know it, he's completely naked, pressed against the back of my body.

Our eyes meet in the mirror. "I have the most beautiful wife."

My eyes flutter. I wish this was real. I wish I was his and he was mine.

He rubs his thumb over my face and then my lips, all without breaking eye contact in the mirror. "Tell me you understand how beautiful you are."

"Quincy—"

Before I can finish protesting, he spanks me hard.

I gasp. I've never been spanked before but can feel the unexpected enjoyment pooling between my legs.

As if he can read my body, his fingers move down and through my folds. He then brings those fingers up and sucks them into his mouth. "Hmm. You liked that, didn't you, wife? My wife likes it when I spank her." The corners of his mouth raise slightly. "I liked it too."

I feel him move around and then slide down my body until he's on his knees in front of me. I can see his muscular back and sexy ass in the mirror.

He grabs the back of my thighs and licks once through my center. It feels so good, but he lifts his head and looks up at me.

"Do you want more of that?"

I enthusiastically nod.

"Tell me. Tell me what I want to hear."

I close my eyes.

"Open them and really look at yourself. I need you to see the beauty I see in you. My stunning wife."

I slowly peel them open and take in the scene before me. I'm standing naked with my legs spread ever so slightly. The most perfect, gorgeous man is equally naked, physically on his knees in front of me. Worshiping me and my body. The evidence of what my being naked does to him is as clear as day with his massive, engorged, leaking cock pointing at me.

I nod and barely whisper, "I'm…I'm beautiful."

"Louder."

I take a deep breath. In a regular voice, I confidently declare, "I'm beautiful."

"And perfect."

I let out another breath.

"Say it."

"And perfect."

A much bigger smile finds his lips before he buries his face between my legs and begins to lick up and down through me. When he did this to me over four years ago, it was the greatest pleasure I'd ever known. What I've learned since is that finding a man who does it well isn't easy. I've never come harder than I did the one and only other time Quincy Abbott did this to me.

He grabs onto my ass and starts to go to town, eating me like a starved man. He moans like I'm doing this to him. I have to grip his sexy curls, as I'm barely able to remain upright.

My legs feel wobbly. I breathe, "I can't stand anymore. It's too good."

Without removing his tongue from me, he crawls until I feel the backs of my legs brush against my bed. He places his hand on my stomach and pushes me down onto the bed.

Still without removing his tongue, he remains on the ground, spreads my legs as wide as they can go, and grabs my thighs for leverage as he drives me into a frenzy with his tongue magically working over my clit.

He moves one hand until I feel his fingers prod my entrance. Teasing me for a moment, he eventually slides two then three fingers into me.

His fingers start to fuck me hard. "Ah, Quincy, it's too much."

He mumbles, "You'll take it."

And I do. The combination of his thick, long fingers and his tongue has me screaming out. Fuck, he's deep.

Before I know it, a tidal wave of an orgasm begins to build. Oh my god, it's big. I'm climbing fast to reach its crest. As if sensing it, he simultaneously pushes in deeper, curls his fingers, and sucks on my clit.

That's it for me. I have to grip the sheets as my back arches. The bright room goes temporarily dark as I come so fucking hard and long. There's nothing in the world that could stifle my screams of ecstasy right now.

As I start to drift down off the high, I feel his hand move up my body until it reaches my throat. He only then breaks the contact of his mouth on me and licks up my body.

Now he's got both hands on my throat as he gets situated between my legs. After applying a slight squeeze, he grits, "Can you take it a little harder than last time?"

I nod eagerly.

"Do you like my hands on your throat?"

I can't believe I do; I've never contemplated it before, but I can't deny that I get off on his dominance over me in the bedroom.

I nod again.

"Good girl. I knew you would. You like submitting to me." I catch his crooked smirk just before he brings his lips to mine. Quincy Abbott kisses are my everything. My first, my best, the one I've never been able to erase from my mind. In every other aspect, he's domineering, but his kisses are always so tender and sweet. Any woman who's blessed with his lips must find it hard to ever kiss another man. I know I do. His slow tongue, his soft lips. There's something emotional about it. I know he doesn't love me or have some deep, meaningful affection for me, but he kisses me like he does.

I run my fingers through his curls and latch on, trying to mirror his movements and kiss him back as perfectly as he kisses me.

His thumbs gently massage my neck as his tongue sweeps through my mouth. I feel his cock rubbing through my wetness. Every hard ridge and vein causes tremors to vibrate through my body.

I want him so badly. I mumble, "Quincy, I need you."

One of his hands moves off me and feels around the bed. He suddenly breaks our lips apart. I hate it. I could kiss him forever.

He lifts his body and tears open a condom, rolling it down his massive length. I obviously knew Quincy was big the first time we were together, but I don't think I appreciated it until I started seeing other men. Quincy Abbott is a man among boys. A god among men. Perfection in an imperfect world.

He sits back on his knees, raking his gaze over my body with lust-hooded eyes. I'm making Quincy Abbott feel this way. Me. Ripley St. James. An imperfect woman.

I breathe, "Please. I want you."

He places his elbows on either side of me. We're finally chest to chest again. It feels like both yesterday and a hundred years since I felt him this close.

He begins to push into me. I don't recognize the sounds coming out of my mouth as he slides in. My walls stretch and form to his girth. Everything that is right in this world opens inside me. Is this how it was our first time? I was too scared to remember the feeling when he entered me. But this? This is bliss .

"You're so warm and snug, Shortcake."

He pulls back out a few inches. I hate it. I immediately want him back inside me. Before I can process another thought, he slams back in, and husky moans escape both of our mouths. His jaw is slack as he pulls out and then back in again. I can barely catch my breath, paralyzed by pleasure.

He begins to establish a rhythm. At times my legs are wrapped around his body, but at others I feel the need to spread them as wide as they can go, wanting him as deep inside my body as physically possible.

The heat building inside me is euphoric, but when one of his hands reaches my throat, the sensations head into orbit. Watching Quincy control my body, taking and giving, exerting his pure masculine dominance, is something I know I'll forever need.

He moves his lips back to mine, first nibbling on my lower lip and then latching on while his tongue plunges into my mouth.

He's fucking me hard, squeezing my throat, but kissing me with all the reverence in the world. What he's really doing is blowing my mind.

Every nerve ending is worked to the max until I feel my orgasm teasing me. I'm working my way up a huge mountain, knowing I'm about to reach the highest of heights. The peak.

He lifts his lips from mine while his scorching eyes find mine. He squeezes my throat a drop harder and mouths, "Come for me."

And I do. I can feel my walls clench around him. I cry out his name as I lose all control and ride into a starry sea of bliss.

He groans out, "Oh fuck, that's good," as he roars into his own orgasm, emptying himself into the condom.

In the aftermath, we lay tangled in a sweaty, breathless, sated embrace. My top leg is wrapped around him .

We're quiet for several minutes as we gather our breath and process the unimaginable sex we just had.

I eventually attempt to move my leg off him, but he holds it in place. "Not yet. I don't want to come down off this high." I feel him smile into my neck as he blesses the spot behind my ear with delicate kisses. "We've consummated our marriage. It's now official."

I giggle. "I guess we're stuck with each other now." I playfully shrug my shoulders. "You really should have insisted on a prenup. I've got you right where I want you, Abbott."

He chuckles. "I suppose I'm now your sex slave. I can live with that."

"Hmm." I nuzzle into his sexy chest and allow myself for the briefest of moments to think about what it would be like to really be his wife. To be able to lay in bed with him like this every morning and every night.

What's crazy is that he seems just as content as me. This is too intimate. It's dangerous for me. I need to say something to break it.

"What do you do in your spare time here?"

I feel him shrug his shoulders. "Normal stuff. Hang with friends, work out, and practice. Oh, and sometimes I volunteer at the Great Dane Rescue League. Those dogs need exercise. They're always happy to have volunteers take them to the park for long walks."

I smile. "That's so sweet. Do any of them look like Diamond?"

"A few. It's so tempting to adopt one, but my lifestyle isn't right for a dog. One day when I have a house, maybe it will happen."

"I remember you always wanting a house. Why don't you buy one?"

"I'm not sure Houston is a permanent situation for me. "

"How come?"

He scrunches his nose. "I like it, but I don't love it here. I'll buy a house when I love somewhere. A place I can see myself forever."

I reach over and run my fingers through his hair. "God, I love your hair."

He smiles. It's genuine and carefree. "I know you do."

"Women must go crazy for it."

His face falls. "I don't want to talk about other women."

"It's not like I don't know that you date."

"They're faceless and nameless."

I start thinking about him in high school. I've never known him to have a girlfriend.

"Why didn't you ever have girlfriends when we were growing up? I don't remember any hanging around your house. Arizona thought you were gay for the longest time. I told her you definitely weren't."

He lifts his head before raising an eyebrow. "How did you know I wasn't?"

"Well, I pined after you, and that didn't really play into my fantasy."

He nods. "I had girlfriends, but I was never serious with anyone. I just didn't bring them home with me. Perhaps in part because I was embarrassed by my absentee parents, and in part I just wanted my own, private, untainted space. I've never once invited a woman to my apartment."

"Never?"

He shakes his head. "No. It's always her place. My place is sacred. I don't bring home random hookups ever."

I tap his chest over his heart. "You're twenty-eight years old. You've never let anyone in?"

"No."

"I think it's unhealthy. "

"I never claimed to be healthy."

I wiggle my hips. "You felt very healthy to me."

He smiles. "We have a physical connection that I can't explain. Something I've never shared with anyone else."

Part of me is happy that he feels it too, but then there's another part of me that's sad knowing we can never be anything more than what we are right now.