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R OWAN

The pub many on the team like to go to after games isn’t as packed as it is after a night game. Since it’s barely six, most of the patrons are friends or family of the team.

Whiskey Belt isn’t in the area surrounding the stadium, so the crowd is usually tame. Except for Miles and the younger guys on the team.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Miles is our age when he rattles off inappropriate jokes and immature comebacks like a fifteen-year-old. You could say that’s part of his charm, not taking himself too seriously.

Tonight is eighties night, and the music is amazing. I’m having a blast dancing with Kendall, Riley, and Mindy to some of my favorites.

We’ve belted out Madonna, Bon Jovi, and Motley Crue’s top hits. When the DJ plays Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock’s “It Takes Two”, Miles, Declan, and Trenton join us on the dance floor.

Miles does the sprinkler and the Cabbage Patch, and the other guys join in the foolishness while the girls and I circle around them.

“Do the Running Man,” Kendall yells over the music.

He does so like he’s been practicing his moves his entire life, which he probably has. My stomach hurts from laughing and I don’t even feel the pain in my feet anymore from standing all afternoon.

“Have you ever seen the Riley?” Miles holds his elbows and mimics rocking a baby to the beat of the music.

“Do me! Do me!” Kendall jumps to the music.

“I got this one,” Declan says and moves his hips in a way similar to how she dances.

“Dude. You suck at this. This is the Kenny.” Miles makes a fist in one hand and pretends to scrape it while moving his hips.

“What the hell is that?” she asks.

“Peeling the potato, obviously.”

“Oh, fuck.” Kendall tips her head back and belts out a laugh so loud it can be heard over the music.

She grabs my hand and we move our hips and feet while laughing hysterically at the guys.

“Do Rowan,” Riley says.

The song ends and “Nasty” by Janet Jackson comes on. Miles’s eyes lock on mine and he gives me the most devilish grin I’ve ever seen on him.

He glides his hands up and down his torso, then dramatically jumps so his back is to us and flicks his head and looks over his shoulder. He shakes his ass and I can’t help but lock my eyes on those two solid, perfect globes.

With one hand on his thigh, he slaps his ass cheek with the other, then spins and shimmies his way over to me, shaking his torso in front of me.

“What the heck is that?” I laugh, shoving at his chest.

“Your dance move, Doc.”

“I don’t shake my ass like that on the dance floor.”

“No, but you should.” He grips my hips and I have no choice but to follow his moves.

“Are you saying you don’t like how I dance?” I tease.

“I’m saying you’ve got the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen, and it was meant to...” The corner of his mouth lifts and he shrugs his shoulders.

Is he...is Miles flirting with me? That’s a first. Kendall is usually the one he tosses the sexual innuendos to. Not that I mind. I’m just not used to it.

I mean, he flirted a little a few months ago at the spring fling fundraiser when I patched him up, but that was more G-rated.

He’s never said anything about my body before. I’ve always been self-conscious of my curves. The seams of my scrubs sometimes pull around my hips and thighs, while I have to cinch the unflattering waistband that’s often loose around my middle.

“You do have a great ass.” Kendall slaps my cheek and I jump, bumping into Miles’s hard body.

“No complaints here.” He keeps his hands on my hips, but the mischievous grin tells me he’s tempted to slide his hands back and grab my ass too.

My neck heats with desire and I laugh as I step out of his reach. This is Miles. Miles Buckingham. Consummate flirt. Man slut, if I believe the rumors, even though I haven’t seen him slut himself lately. But who knows what he does when he’s not hanging out with his teammates.

It’s fine for me to drool over him and the other guys, but it’s not okay for me to do anything about it. Not that I would. Not that he would.

I’m not his type and he’s not mine.

Even if he was the relationship type, I imagine Miles is hilarious in the bedroom. I’m sure he knows his way around a woman’s body, but I can’t imagine him doing some of the kinky stuff I want to try.

Granted, compared to some of the books I read, my sexual desires are closer to vanilla. Or maybe a mocha. Possibly a peanut butter swirl.

I imagine Miles liking strawberry or mint chocolate chip. Fun and refreshing.

My experiences have all been vanilla. Not even with sprinkles. The few guys I’ve slept with have been pleasurable experiences, but nothing to leave me pining after them or walking funny the next day.

Three women who have been dancing with Brock and Trenton drag Miles into their circle. Part of me is thankful for the reprieve, but there’s a slight tug in my belly that almost feels like jealousy.

Which is ridiculous since Miles isn’t mine and I’ve never once thought of him as being anything more than a friend.

“I hate to bail so soon...” Riley holds her arm across her chest. “But these puppies are starting to cry for their owner.”

“I’m so glad you came out.” I walk Riley back to the table where Walker stands holding her purse.

“Want us to give you a lift home?” he asks.

“I can bring her,” Miles says from behind me.

I turn and look up at him, then behind him to where the red-headed woman who had draped herself all over him gives me a dirty look.

“Perfect because I’m already leaking.” Riley moves her arm and shows us the dark wet spots on her jersey.

“Babe.” Walker covers her boobs with his hands and shields her from Miles and anyone else who looks our way.

“Seriously.” Riley smacks his hands away. “There’s nothing sexy about lactating breasts.”

“If they’re boobs, they’re sexy.” Miles waggles his eyebrows.

“Fuck off.” Walker draws Riley into his side and tips his chin at me. “You sure you don’t want a lift?”

I open my mouth to respond but Miles cuts in. “I got it. You take care of taking the milk jugs home to my boy Emmitt.”

“You didn’t not just refer to my wife as milk jugs.”

Riley laughs and pushes Walker toward the exit. “He’s not wrong.”

Nash stands and points at the dance floor, curling his finger, beckoning Kendall his way. She lightly taps Brock’s cheek and sashays her way toward us.

That’s my BFF; always sexy, always pushing the limits with Nash.

“You wanna join me, husband?”

“Yeah. At home.” He pushes in his chair and reaches for Kendall’s hand.

“You promised me a dance.” She ignores his hand and snakes her arms around his neck, grinding into his front and kissing his neck.

I’m oddly turned on. I’ve seen my friends with their husbands before. They’re not shy about being affectionate in front of me, and I love how much in love they are, but tonight it’s giving me all sorts of...feels.

Voyeurism? That wasn’t on my Bingo card. Especially with my friends. I’ve never watched porn before, but maybe that’s what my body is craving.

Or maybe I’m craving having a man grind himself into me and wanting me with such desire that he can’t wait until I get home to—

“We’re out.” Nash grips Kendall’s hand and yanks her out the door.

“Sorry, Rowan. Call me tomorrow,” Kendall calls over her shoulder, giggling her way through the bar.

I turn to Miles. “I guess I’ll hit you up for that ride.”

“Wanna stay longer or head out now?”

“I should probably go. My early morning alarm will be going off before I know it.”

It’s only eight-thirty, but by the time I get home, shower, and pack my lunch, I’ll be tuckered out.

“My chariot awaits.” Miles places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the exit, holding the door open for me, then helping me into his truck.

He’s always been a gentleman to me, as most men are. Kendall says I give off that vibe which makes men treat me with respect.

Too bad I’m looking for a man to do the opposite in the bedroom.

“Random question. I asked the guys, and they shit on my idea. Would you be up for a low-key hike next Sunday? We don’t play again until Monday night, so Sunday is a rest day. Calves and Sinatra said they plan on hitting it hard Saturday night and need a recovery day, and Bankesy and Potato said it’s family day.”

Why is it that football players don’t ever call each other by their given names? They call Trenton Calves. He’s an amazing kicker and the guys are always commenting on his calves. Since Brock is from New York and has stunning blue eyes, they call him Sinatra.

While he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, he doesn’t make my insides quiver. None of the guys on the team do, even though their bodies are sculpted with hard muscle.

The random tingles I’ve experienced around Miles are coincidence. Proximity. I’m sure if I spent more time with Brock or Trenton I’d have random spurts of awareness as well.

“I take your silence as you trying to come up with a polite way to turn me down.”

“What?” I twist in my seat to face him. “Sorry. I zoned out for a bit. I love hiking but haven’t had time to go in forever.”

“Perfect. Is nine too early to pick you up? If you’d rather sleep in, we can go later in the afternoon.”

“Nine is sleeping in. I’ll be ready.”

Miles parks in front of my apartment building and unlatches his seatbelt.

“No need to get out and get honked at for double-parking.” I hop out of his truck and lean my head inside. “Thanks for the ride and letting me tag along on your hike. I’ll pack snacks.”

I wave him goodbye and hurry into my apartment building. A few minutes later, as I’m soaking under the shower spray, I think about Adam for the first time all day.

He’s been my semi-dirty little secret. One I’ve been fantasizing about nightly for the past few weeks. Today is the longest I’ve gone not thinking about him.

Miles has somehow infiltrated my fantasies as I skim my hand down my torso and touch myself. After a few minutes, with my mind oscillating between a faceless Adam, who knows my dirty secrets, and Miles, who appeals to my sunshiney side, I’m no closer to orgasm than I am during the workday.

My mind is too distracted. I’m not one of those girls who can come just by thinking of someone, or on command. Although, that’s one of my fantasies as well.

Unrealistic fiction is what it is.

Sighing in unsatisfied dismay, I finish soaping my body, rinse, and get out of the shower.

When I’m bundled in my fuzzy robe, I open the Friends to Lovers app and message Adam.

Elizabeth77: Do you watch porn?

I drop my phone in the pocket of my robe and head to the kitchen to make my lunch for tomorrow. As soon as I’m done cleaning up my mess, my phone vibrates.

Adam86: Not regularly. Do you?

Elizabeth77: I never thought about it until tonight.

Adam86: What happened tonight that made you think about it?

Elizabeth77: I was out with friends and found myself enamored watching my best friend’s husband rub his hard cock into her stomach.

He doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and I worry I scared him off when a message pops up.

Adam86: Is enamored code for turned on?

Elizabeth77: I think so.

Adam86: Think?

Elizabeth77: I’m not turned on by him or by her. But I wished I had a partner who wants me so bad he can’t contain himself in public. It was hot watching him bolt out of the bar so he could take her home. I’m sure they got busy in the car before they even left the parking lot.

Adam86: Did you want to go out and watch them?

Elizabeth77: No. I didn’t even think about that. It’s more a longing to be wanted in that manner.

Adam86: I’m sure you’re a beautiful woman who has many men wishing they could be with you.

Elizabeth77: Ha! You have no idea what I look like. But that is sweet of you to say.

Adam86: From what you’ve told me, everyone calls you the cute girl next door. That’s a turn on, Wildflower. I can tell by our conversations these past few weeks that you’re an amazing woman.

Elizabeth77: Thanks.

I head back into my room and change into an oversized shirt and ratty shorts. Adam was supposed to be my saving grace. I needed him to talk dirty to me so I can get myself off, but even he thinks I’m sweet .

Adam86: Did I say something to offend you? I’m not sure how to interpret the Thanks .

I’m not one to start an argument, and I avoid confrontation and uncomfortable conversations at all costs, but there’s a safety behind the screen that allows me to open up to this stranger.

As long as he remains a stranger forever, I can practice being more open and honest about my feelings.

Elizabeth77: I’m not looking for accolades, Adam. I’m looking for someone to tilt my world on its axis.

Adam86: Are you in bed?

My cheeks warm and my heart races. Is he going to...? Hell. Only one way to find out.

Elizabeth77: Yes. And I’m naked.

Adam86: Fuck.

Elizabeth77: That would be nice.

Adam86: Fuck. Me.

Elizabeth77: Even better.

Adam86: Lay back and spread your legs. Slowly, and I mean slowly, Wildflower. Trail your fingers down your chest and scrape your fingernail over your nipples.

I do as he commands and my nipples instantly tighten into hard pebbles.

Adam86: Tell me how you feel.

Elizabeth77: Nervous. Excited.

Adam86: No. Tell me how you feel. Imagine my hands trailing down your body. What do I feel?

My body warms at his words. At his command.

Elizabeth77: My nipples are hard peaks. Pink and waiting for you to suck on them.

Adam86: Bite. I’m going to bite your pretty, pink nipples, Wildflower.

God, I want him to call me Rowan, but my name isn’t common and I don’t want to worry about the one-in-a-million chance that I ever run into this stranger.

Adam86: Trail your fingers down to your pussy and cup your mound but don’t touch your clit.

I do as he commands, my heart racing with anticipation. The only thing forbidden about what we’re doing is the fact that we’re strangers. Everything else is still, well, vanilla.

Even so, it’s one step closer to my sexual reprieve.

Adam86: Tell me how wet you are. But don’t touch your clit yet.

Elizabeth77: I’m soaked.

Adam86: I smell your pussy, see you dripping down to your cunt and onto your sheets.

Shit. The need to touch myself is strong but I obey his orders.

Elizabeth77: Can I touch myself now?

Adam86: Imagine my face between your legs and my shoulders pushing your thighs apart. Spread them for me now, Wildflower.

My legs tremble as I open them, and I dip my finger lower, hovering over my opening.

Elizabeth77: Please.

Typing is getting harder with one hand, especially as my body shakes with need.

Adam86: Dip one finger inside your pussy. Just one and leave it in there. Don’t move it once you’re in.

Elizabeth77: Okay.

Oh my god. I need to move. I need to fuck my finger. More fingers. I need my dildo from my dresser drawer, but I’m trapped in this position until Adam tells me otherwise.

Adam86: Add another finger and slowly fuck yourself. I don’t want you getting off too soon. Slowly, Wildflower.

I do as he commands and add another finger and take it slow.

Elizabeth77: I need more.

Adam86: Good girl. Tell me what you need. Always tell me what you need.

Elizabeth77: My vibrator. I need it on my clit while I finger fuck myself.

Adam86: Is that what you like? A vibrator on your clit? Or do you want my mouth? My tongue?

Elizabeth77: Yes. You. I want your mouth on me.

Adam86: It’s there, Wildflower. Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. I can smell your pussy, feel your cum coating my fingers, my tongue, my face. One day you’ll coat my cock and milk me dry as well.

Elizabeth77: I need to come.

Adam86: Not yet, beautiful. I’m almost there with you.

Holy hell. He’s jerking off right now? My heart thunders in my chest.

Adam86: Flick your clit with your thumb and imagine it’s my tongue while you add another finger to your cunt. Fuck yourself hard, Wildflower. Now. Fast. Harder. Fuck. I’m going to come. Come with me. Now.

I pump my fingers faster until my back arches off the bed and I feel the walls of my pussy contract around my fingers. I come harder than I ever have while I imagine my sexy stranger’s face between my legs.

A flash of Miles’s caramel eyes and mischievous smile mixes in with the other flashes of my orgasmic release. I close my eyes and let my legs fall open as I catch my breath.

Adam86: Good girl.

Hell. I nearly come again.