Page 9 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

i should’ve told her

Grant

I lean in and kiss her one more time, just wanting one more moment to cling to from this night. Devon is amazing. She doesn’t put on airs. She’s funny and smart. She’s obviously gorgeous. Fuck, why did I have to find this woman tonight?

“I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight,” I say, pulling away from the best lips I’ve ever kissed. “You’re amazing.”

She bites down on her bottom lip and a flush spreads across her cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks. I feel the same.”

The words kind of catch in my throat, which makes me think I shouldn’t let them loose, out into the world, but I’m a sucker, so I do it anyway. “Do you want to maybe exchange numbers? Stay in touch?”

There’s a heartbeat of thought before she sort of squares her shoulders, like she’s trying to convince herself her answer is really what she wants. I know what she’ll say before she says it. “No…I think…I like what we did. I like you. A lot. But let’s just leave it here?”

I nod, a sharp action that belies the disappointment I feel. She’s right, of course. We had a good night, but what would be the point of staying in touch? I’m just out of a disastrous marriage. I’m moving here. She’s from who-knows-where.

“You’re amazing,” I say for the second time. “Seriously. Enjoy your conference.”

My feet feel like lead weights as I walk to the door to let myself out. Aside from being extremely reluctant to leave this beautiful woman, something else nags at me. Something I should’ve told her hours ago.

I get to my room and head for the shower, trying to calm the strange anxiety that has uncoiled itself in my stomach. Should I go back and leave my number with her? Not just because I want to see her again, but also because, well, I think the condom may have broken a little.

Just a little. Most of it was still there, but some cum definitely leaked out as I pulled it off.

It’s probably not a big deal. But I should’ve told her, right? Just in case?

I think about my years with Margot. About the many times we tried to make a baby.

I’ve always wanted to be a father, and while Margot was always somewhat reluctant, we did try, with no luck.

Every month, her cycle came like clockwork, and with each disappointment, I came closer to truly believing that the problem was me.

I suggested we go to a fertility specialist just to make sure.

Did my swimmers work okay? Margot always told me I was too anxious about it, wanted it too much.

She told me many times that she had read stories about couples that got pregnant after simply relaxing about it.

She told me it would happen when it was meant to happen, and that she didn’t really want to have sex just to make a baby.

It made her feel like a machine and took the romance out of the whole experience.

I could see what she meant. I calmed, stopped worrying about it so much. Just in time to find out she had started sleeping with one of my best friends.

When Margot and I met, she was fun and sassy and really into the idea of having this transient life.

She liked traveling for games, seeing new places.

But over time, I saw how the travel wore on her, how she wanted something more settled.

And when I got hurt, when the game ended for me, I thought that it would be a good thing to be around more, to think about settling, finding some permanence.

I thought things would be good, better for her, but we just ended up falling apart.

In a way, I blame myself. I was extremely focused on having a family, and she never really was.

We weren’t on the same page about it, and if she felt like I’d turned her into some kind of baby-making machine?

I mean, I tried to show her I loved her all the time, that I wanted to make a little human with her because of that love.

I suppose I didn’t do a good enough job of it, though.

And well, I guess I don’t blame her for looking for passion and connection somewhere else.

But she could have ended our marriage before she sought that.

I loathe disloyalty. I would never have cheated on her, but if I’d been unhappy, I know I would have ended things.

So, her infidelity still pisses me right the fuck off. And what Graves did too, the shit bag.

Tonight was an eye-opener for me. Meeting Devon was like a dream. She’s gorgeous, funny, and smart. And the sex? It was the best I can recall. Honestly, I forgot sex could be that good.

Just thinking about it makes me hard again.

With the warm water sluicing over me, I grip the base of my cock, moving back and forth as I relive every moment with Devon.

Her dark hair and eyes, the sound of her moans of pleasure, the feel of her warm pussy, the taste of it, the feel of her mouth around my cock.

It doesn’t take long for me to explode again, a sharp huff of a moan letting loose from my lips as I empty myself. God, I haven’t felt like this in so, so long. It’s like being a teenager with a crush on a pretty girl. Can’t wait to see her again. Can’t control myself around her.

I sigh as I finish washing my orgasm away, disappointed I won’t be seeing this woman ever again.

Still, I should probably go back and tell her about the condom.

It’s the right thing to do. So, I dry off and throw on a pair of basketball shorts and a new Crush hoodie that I picked up in the team store before I left the arena after my interview.

I make my way back to Devon’s room, knocking lightly on the door.

It’s very late, and there is no doubt in my mind that she was very tired when I left, so I’m not surprised when she doesn’t answer.

I wait longer than necessary, hoping she’ll appear, hoping I can see her one more time.

Finally, I trudge back to my room, falling into the bed, my eyes heavy but my mind still buzzing from maybe the craziest day of my entire life.

I’ll try to reach Devon again in the morning.

I just need to see her one more time.