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6. Everly

CHAPTER 6

EVERLY

U rban had kissed me right there in the plaza, where anyone could've seen us. I didn't care, and I guess he didn't, either. I'd thought it'd have been more of an issue with him than me, given that newspapers didn't care what I did. I assumed some cared what he did since he was the "celebrity."

First, he'd kissed me, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world to do and then he'd asked about my family.

Why would he have asked about my family?

I'd spent my entire life being judged by what they did, and the last thing I wanted to do was tell Urban that I hadn't come from a family like his.

As I saw it, his family was clearly wealthy. Camden had told me that all of her brothers were professional baseball players, but she'd never mentioned that their dad was that I could remember. But her mom's dad owned the team, and her mother would be the owner when he died. Camden's mother wanted Camden to take over when she couldn't anymore, and that wasn't something Camden was sure she wanted to do.

That was what I knew of her family.

Oh, and I'd met Brooks and Silas at the camp.

Now, that was it.

"What do you mean it's not a happy story?" he asked, and for the first time in a long time, something inside me urged me to tell him. That day in the department store with Bryson showed that Urban was protective—maybe not of me specifically, but of women in general, and I fell into that group.

But I wasn't going to. This wasn't a date, and he wasn't my boyfriend. He could ask anything else. With anything else, I was an open book.

"Ask something else," I told him, and I hated the pleading in my voice. "Ask anything else."

Urban paused like he was thinking about whether he should push a little hard or not and then nodded. Good thing too. Pushing me on my family was the quickest way to end the night. "What's with you and Madden?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course that's what you'd ask." I swallowed hard and pushed the steak bites around my plate. "What other baseball player was named Urban? You didn't finish explaining about how your parents came up with the names." It wasn't important, but I was curious and it was something that would delay me answer the question he'd asked.

He regarded me seriously then took a breath. "Sure. So my dad wanted baseball names. My mom was fine with it. First came Brooks. He's named after Brooks Robinson. He played in the sixties era. Then came Silas. Now, Silas was named after our grandpa—"

"The one who owns the team?"

"That one. But there was also a player named Silas Simmons in the early nineteen hundreds."

"Did your grandpa play baseball?"

Urban shook his head. "He couldn't. Loves the game more than anyone I've ever met, but he got sick when he was a kid. His heart and lungs never fully recovered."

"That's really sad."

"It is," he agreed quietly. "So, then it came me, and he decided to really go more obscure. There was a player in the nineteen twenties named Urbain Shockcor. People called him ‘Urban Shocker.'"

I giggled. "That is an amazing name. Urban Shocker."

"Tell that to a kid in middle school named Urban."

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing more. Middle school would've been hard with that name.

"Wait. Is your middle name Shocker?" Because, in my imagination, that would've been epic, though awful, as a kid.

"No." He chuckled. "My middle name is Conrad. Actually, all of our middle names are Conrad, after my dad." He lifted the water bottle to his mouth to take a drink.

"Even Camden's?"

When he snorted, his cheeks puffed out a little, like he was trying not to spray the water all over me.

"Not Camden. But I will be calling her ‘Camden Conrad' from now on."

I cringed. "Please don't. She'll hate me." I wasn't totally sure she would, but Camden and I were friendly from camp, and I didn't want it to be awkward.

"So they made fun of your name in middle school?" That was where we'd left off.

He shrugged. "I never minded, though. Then Cobb from Ty Cobb and Camden."

"Why didn't they name Camden something baseball-related?"

He stopped the fork with a piece of steak on it that had been headed to his mouth. "They did. Camden Yards. Famous baseball field?"

"Sorry." I shrugged. I'd never heard of it that I remembered.

He furrowed his brows as if my not knowing Camden Yards was impossible. "So… Madden."

I rolled my eyes because I'd hoped he had forgotten all about it. "I met him at camp last year. We hooked up once, and apparently, it was life-changing for him."

"But not for you?"

"Definitely not for me. Anyway, he pokes his head up every once in a while, trying to get me to go out with him. I've told him that I don't date and that I don't do relationships, but he doesn't seem to get it. Do baseball players get concussions?"

His brows pinched together. "Sometimes."

"Maybe he's had one too many because he just is not getting it. "

Urban's loud laugh forced me to smile. This conversation was so weird. Most guys didn't want to know about anything you did in the past, even if you were only together for one night. Urban… wanted to know about me, and it was… unsettling.

Possibly in the best way I could imagine.

No. I had to kick those thoughts aside. I couldn't get wrapped up in this guy. Or any guy.

"You don't date," he said. "I don't date much, either. Haven't for a while, but this feels an awful lot like a date."

I couldn't argue with him there but I also wouldn't agree with him.

I quickly wet my lips and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. "I just wanted to have energy for later."

Urban put his fork down, folded his big hands in front of him, and rubbed them a little, like people would if they were thinking about how to say something. "I'm not expecting anything, Everly. I asked you out because I wanted to," he told me. "We can just have this food, and I'll take you home if you've changed your mind."

Sex had been implied. Scratch that. I 'd implied we'd be having sex and men didn't usually pass on that. I didn't mean just with me. It was a general thing.

Urban wasn't wrong, though. My other one-night stands, though there hadn't been that many, didn't go like this. Dinner didn't come first. Usually, I found someone attractive, made a move—or he did—and then we got naked.

I absolutely did not want to think about why I'd decided to get dinner with him first. It couldn't be because I liked him.

I mean… of course, I liked him; otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this with him tonight. The question remained: Why had I wanted dinner first? Sure, I did need energy for later, but I could've gotten that on my own.

Maybe I was fun drunk from the game. Amity, Camden, and I had more fun than I thought a baseball game would ever be.

There was something about Urban that I liked beyond what we were going to do tonight, and I seriously hoped we could be friends tomorrow.

Scratch that. I'd never been to this point with a one-night stand in my life. I'd never wanted dinner first. Every other time, we'd both been seeking a result. Sometimes, that result had been the release I'd wanted, and sometimes, it'd been Bryson .

Then I realized that I should've been looking for a man who would say he wouldn't care if we didn't have sex all along. Not for a relationship, but I could see Urban being someone I could be friends with and have sex with.

"Thanks for the offer," I told him. "I guess we'll see where the night goes."

He sat back and started eating again. "So why no relationships?"

"You really want to know?" I asked and he nodded. "I think you'd call it the three strikes and you're out rule. I've had a few. They went bad and I'm tired of starting over."

He furrowed his brows. "Isn't that kind of a jaded view for someone…" That was when he likely realized he didn't know how old I was. Clearly, he could see that I was an adult, but was I twenty or forty?

"Twenty-four. And no. I've had three serious relationships and got burned every single time. I don't want to do it again. Probably ever, given that I grew up in a house that didn't exactly model the healthiest relationships."

"Well, now I want to know even more."

I snorted. "We'll see. Maybe if we stay friends after tonight. "

Once again, Urban had a look on his face that I wanted to ask about or, hell, crawl inside of, but I wouldn't do either. One beautiful man after another had burned me, and now, my heart was fireproof.

My heart was so well protected that the feelings peeking up about Urban surprised even me.

The two of us continued talking until we were both finished eating. He took the trash to the bin then led me back out to his car. He didn't touch me in any way, but he walked closely, and I kind of wanted to take his hand in mine. I'd never do it. Too relationshipy .

"Did you leave your car at the ballpark? I probably should've asked before we left," he said when we were in his car.

I snickered. "No. Camden offered to pick me up so I wouldn't have to worry about it."

"Excellent." He took a deep breath then blew it out. "So… you're place or mine?"

It was corny but to the point. "Well, I don't know. Who is closer?" What the hell was I thinking? The automatic answer should've been his. Not my apartment. I never brought anyone there but for some unexplainable reason, I trusted Urban enough to not worry about him knowing where I lived .

Clearly, they could find out anyway given Bryson showing up there without an invitation.

Urban told me where his apartment was and I groaned. Mine was much closer so I told him where I lived. He knew roughly where it was, and then I gave turn-by-turn directions to get him to the right building.

As we walked into my building and up the stairs, I began to wonder why in the hell I was doing this. Bringing Urban to my apartment wasn't normal for me but deep down, I didn't think I had to worry about my safety with him.

Maybe it was because of how he'd acted about Bryson. Maybe it was just the vibe he gave off.

Whatever it was, I felt safe with Urban. Safe having him in my house.

The only thing threatening my safety right now was the thoughts I'd been having about him.

I flipped the switch right inside the door so that we weren't in complete darkness. He shut the door behind us.

Right then, I wanted this to start but also didn't.

Don't get me wrong. I wanted to have sex with him, but I also wanted to continue the night as it had been. Talking to him was easy and I didn't find talking to men easy too often .

Hormones won out.

Urban pushed his fingers into my hair and cupped my cheek. He leaned down quickly, pressing his lips to mine.

That was when any battle waging inside me was gone. I wanted this. Wanted him.

His soft lips moved against mine. He trailed his tongue across my mouth so that my lips would part then he pushed his tongue inside and honestly, it was all gentler than it should've been, given what we were to each other.

Not friends, but a one-night stand, though we'd see each other again at camp eventually.

Gentle, like I was something special, wasn't something I could stand from him. It brought up potential and I didn't want to have potential with anyone at this point.

That was when I acted. I pushed against him harder, kissed him more demandingly, and pulled at his shirt.

Urban took the hint. He ran his hands down my sides until they cupped my ass, then he lifted. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders as his tongue stroked mine.

He pulled away and asked, "Bedroom?" He sounded slightly winded, but not in a way that made me think that I weighed too much for him to hold.

"On the left." I, on the other hand, sounded like I was on the verge of drowning.

Urban's mouth claimed mine again as he walked us to the bedroom.

Once inside, he dropped me onto the bed then pulled his shirt over his head. That shirt had looked good on him, but off of him was even better.

The heavily-muscled body builder had never been my type. Urban, however… was exactly my type. His chest and abdomen were hard with muscle that I assumed he'd gotten from swinging his bat, though he likely worked out quite a lot, given his job.

While there was some definition, it wasn't too much. At least, not for me. He was covered in lean muscle everywhere I could see. Just… strong.

"Come here." He wiggled his fingers. I scurried up so that he could pull my shirt over my head.

His gaze heated, set afire by the desire he must've been feeling. Or maybe it was mine. He kissed down my neck to the swell of my breast as his hands worked on the clasp on my bra around my back. Once it was loose, my breasts sprang free and his mouth took advantage .

I curled my hands tightly into his hair when he licked my nipple.

There was so much going on inside of me that I didn't think I'd be able to separate any of the feelings racing around. Ignoring them and focusing on the pleasure was the best I could do. Every single touch of his brought me closer to the edge.

Urban pulled away, leaving me half-naked so that he could flick the button on his pants and then push them down.

Now his cock sprang free and my stomach dropped like I was on the first big hill of a roller coaster.

He was long—but not too long. Thick—but not too thick.

With Urban, it was like a sculptor had asked me what the perfect man looked like to me, and then Urban appeared.

For a moment, I worried that I was too caught up in this already, but I couldn't be bothered with that.

Right now, he was all I wanted.

As if we knew what the other wanted without having to say it, I slid myself to the edge of the bed where I was almost at waist level with him. He threaded his hand back into my hair and pulled me closer to his cock. I wet my lips before taking it in my mouth. He groaned as I stroked my tongue over his length on my first pass.

"Fuck, Everly. Your mouth feels like silk."

A shiver of satisfaction raced through me. One of my favorite things was when a man lost control because of me. Because of that, I moved quicker. Faster. Used more pressure. Cupped his balls in my hand and used that to my advantage. I pushed myself so far down him that I gagged.

Urban made a strangled noise in his throat right before he nudged me away.

"You better stop," he said, sounding like he'd just run the bases. "On your back."

I hurried to where he wanted me. Urban let out a deep breath then undid the button on my shorts and pulled them down my legs with the panties still inside.

"Jesus," he muttered. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Except… he wasn't looking where I thought he would be when he said that. He was looking me in the eye.

This was too much. I didn't want him saying sweet things to me whether I was naked or clothed. That wasn't what we were here to do .

To get his attention elsewhere, I trailed my fingers up the inside of my thigh and over the area between my legs before rubbing a circle over my clit. His jaw tightened, then he gently slapped my hand away.

"That's my job." Urban dropped to his knees and yanked me to the edge of the bed. Then he pushed my knees as far apart as they would comfortably go.

He wet his lips quickly then ran his tongue over my clit. My muscles clenched, and my knees threatened to snap shut, but his big hands kept them open. Urban's talents weren't only on the field, apparently.

Urban played me like an instrument with which he was already well acquainted. As I got used to him between my legs, he released one knee and pushed a finger into me all while licking and sucking at my clit.

Dear hell, he was going to make me cum in record time.

As expected, the pressure built and I want to release while at the same time didn't want this to end. But ultimately, I didn't have a choice.

My orgasm ran over me in massive waves of pleasure. I clenched at the blanket on my bed just to hold on for the ride.

That was intense.

Once the wave subsided, Urban pulled back and ran his hand over his mouth before waving it at me. "Roll over."

"Condom," I rasped out. "Top drawer." I assumed he'd know I meant my dresser.

"I have some."

"Top drawer," I repeated. One thing I always did was use my own protection. I wasn't about to leave my safety up to some guy I'd just met.

Though to be fair, I'd done that in relationships, too.

As if he understood, Urban went to the dresser. The drawer slid open then closed, a small tearing filled the room, then he was back behind me. I could feel his presence without looking.

While I was on my hands and knees, Urban pushed into me slowly, but in one thrust. I was more than ready for him, but he filled me to my max. Any more and it would've been too much.

Urban moved slowly, showing that he understood that from this angle, he was going to reach deeper and he'd be careful not to hurt me.

Then he moved faster several times before pulling out. "On your back," he said and I was more than happy to give my wrists a break.

He was right back inside me, this time moving quicker and pushing me toward another release. Everything around me was Urban. The sound of his breaths coming faster. The sound he made when I dug my nails into his hard shoulders when he hit exactly the right spot. Once a second orgasm hit and subsided, he pushed into me three more times and groaned.

He'd found his release.

Urban lay on top of me with his head against my chest for so long that I worried he'd fall asleep. Just when I was about to say something, he lifted his head.

"I'll be right back." He kissed me deeply before heading to my bathroom.

That had been… phenomenal. How in the hell had he known exactly what I'd needed?

I didn't want to consider that, so I hopped up and grabbed a robe so I wouldn't be naked when he got back.

He did a double take when he entered my bedroom again. At first, he looked confused and then understanding came over him. I'd sort of gotten dressed so that meant he should too. He grabbed his clothes off the floor but watched me with a heavy gaze as he got dressed.

"So, I—"

"That was fun," I told him trying to sound like we'd just gone bowling and it was the most fun I'd ever had. Chipper and cheery even though I was wrought with confusion.

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Fun," he said flatly.

"Yeah. Uh… Maybe we could do it again some time."

His gaze narrowed on me. "Sure."

"You have a game tomorrow, right?" I asked. He nodded. "I don't want to keep you too late, then." Which was my way of saying don't let the door hit you on the way out . My stomach dropped and tightened when I said it and my throat started to burn. I didn't like these signs. They were symptoms that told me that my words and feelings weren't exactly aligning.

He really needed to go.

"Yeah." The muscle on his jaw bulged then released as he tightened and relaxed it. "Wouldn't want that, would we?" He got all of his things together then paused at the door. "We travel to a game tomorrow." Though he didn't need to tell me that. "I'll talk call you… or text."

"Sure."

Usually, when a guy said that, he wasn't going to do either and that was fine. Besides, it occurred to me that I never gave him my phone number nor did I have his. Probably for the best.

Right now, I needed some space from Urban Briggs because what we'd just done hadn't been like it had been with anyone else. That wasn't possible, right? Sex was just sex.

No reason to get attached.

So why was I already feeling attached to Urban?

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