Hearts in Overtime: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (32 page)

“Christina, it’s so good to see you,” he said, taking me in his arms.

I closed my eyes and suppressed a blissful sigh as I lost myself in his embrace. He was so wonderfully muscular, and he made me feel delicate and ladylike. Ladylike I may be, but for the record, I’m not delicate at all. I’m a proud curvy girl. Still, I felt like a waif of a woman when I was wrapped up in Will’s big, strong arms, pressed against his rock hard chest, and it was the loveliest sensation I’d had for as long as I could remember.

“Hi, Will. It’s great to see you too. Thanks so much for planning this.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, trailing his hands down my arms to squeeze my fingers before releasing his hold on me and stepping back.

He had the warmest, sweetest smile on his face, and I was dying to kiss him right then and there, but I just couldn’t. Knowing me, my wobbly knees would probably give out, and I’d crash to the ground before my lips touched his. Okay, yeah, that probably wouldn’t actually happen, but I always have been a bit accident prone, and I didn’t want to risk the chance of losing my cool.

“So,” said Will, sitting down in the chair opposite from mine. I followed his lead, and when we were both seated, he looked up at me with a smile. “How does this sound: we take a leisurely stroll along the Seine, stopping along the way if we feel like it. Or not. We walk all the way to the Eiffel Tower, and we go up to the top.”

There he stopped, and his smile took on a playful quality. It was obvious that he’d remembered what I said about my dream date involving being kissed on the top of the Eiffel Tower.

“After that, we might want to spend some time lounging around in the Champ de Mars—that’s the park that the Eiffel Tower is located in, in case you don’t know—and then we’ll head across the river to Trocadéro in the sixteenth arrondissement, where I’ve made reservations at a really nice restaurant that does amazing French cuisine. What do you think, Christina?”

I didn’t know what to say. Never in my life had a guy planned such an incredibly romantic date just for me. I felt pampered and indulged, and it was awesome.

“I think I must be dreaming,” I managed to tell Will.

That ever-present smile of his widened even further, and he took my hand in his. His hands were great—so big, and so warm.

I gazed at him for I don’t know how long with what I’m fairly certain was starry-eyed admiration before I spoke.

“Should we go?” I asked.

He cocked his head. “Don’t you want to finish your wine?”

I shook my head. I didn’t need it. My nerves were perfectly calm now that Will was here. Funny how that worked.

“Okay then,” he said. He rose to his feet and then, tightening his grip around my hand, he pulled me to my feet. “Let’s go discover Paris.”

Hand-in-hand, we left the restaurant and headed out into the sun-dappled day.

* * * *

When we reached the Eiffel Tower and I saw the ridiculously long line, my heart plummeted. Sometimes reality just doesn’t mesh well with your fantasies. Standing in line for two hours with a bunch of senior citizens wearing fanny packs and Birkenstocks with socks wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind for my dream date.

But it seemed that Will had foreseen this scenario and called ahead to make special arrangements. He marched up to the head of the line and said something in French to the guys who were working the door.

One of the Eiffel Tour door guys consulted a clipboard and then looked back up at Will and gave him a nod.

“
Venir avec moi, s’il vous plait
,” he said.

He led us straight to the elevator. We got some dirty looks from our fellow tourists, but I didn’t let them bother me. This First Class lifestyle was a rare treat for me, and I fully intended to enjoy it.

Minutes later, we stepped out of the elevator onto the second level and switched to another elevator to take us to the top. Since both Will and I had already been to the top before, we bypassed Gustave Eiffel’s office, the panoramic maps and all the other touristy stuff on the top level of the tower, and we went straight for the observatory.

“Amazing,” I murmured, looking out on the glorious city stretched out before me. The sky was a bright, cerulean blue with a nice little scattering of fluffy white clouds. We couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day to look down upon the city. There wasn’t much wind swirling around on the ground, but up on the Tower, a gentle breeze circulated around us.

“Beautiful,” Will said, his voice matching my quiet tone.

He let go of my hand and slipped his arm around my waist to pull me close. We stood there in silence for a moment, gazing out upon Paris. My knees started to go all rubbery, which is strange because I’ve never been afraid of heights.

I turned to Will with a smile. His striking green eyes were just so gorgeous, and they looked soft and serene as they gazed back at me. He reached up with his other hand and hooked a lock of hair behind my ear before tracing my cheekbone with his thumb.

This was it. I was going to get my kiss on top of the Eiffel Tower. It was really going to happen. I reached up to wrap both arms around his neck. His arm around my waist pulled me even closer, and then our lips came together in the most perfect moment I could ever have imagined. Will’s lips were strong, firm and self-assured, setting the mood with exactly the right amount of pressure and playfulness as if leading mine in a dance.

He parted his lips slightly, and I parted mine, and he gently slid his tongue into my mouth. I moaned softly and pulled him closer to me as he explored the inside of my mouth. He was in so deep, and it felt so sensual. Almost immediately, my panties were soaked and I wanted him so badly, I had no idea how I would make it through the rest of the day—the hours he’d planned for us to relax in the park and then have dinner. I wanted him now.

“Oh, Christina,” Will said as he slowly pulled away from me. “You’re so beautiful, and I can’t even express how good it feels to have you in my arms.”

His words got me choked up, so I just stroked his sexy jaw line and his soft, thick hair until I was able to string together a reply.

“Thank you for making my dreams come true,” I murmured.

His lips parted, and I thought he might kiss me again, but instead he pulled me close again and pressed me up against him. I could feel his massive erection straining against his jeans and felt the overwhelming urge to wrap my fingers around it. Seriously, how was I going to last the next few hours?

He ran his hands up and down the length of my back, such strong hands he had, so masculine. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder as he caressed me.

As lovely and as serene as I was feeling on the one hand, it was somewhat torturous to stand there with my belly pressed up against Will’s cock and not be able to touch it. Sure, the French are a lot more permissive and less prudish than folks back home, but that didn’t mean I was free to start jacking Will off in public. Still, I felt like if I didn’t get a chance to touch him soon, very soon, I might go crazy. No way was I going to last through dinner. I decided to tell him just that.

“Hey, Will?”

“Hmm?”

“I love everything you’ve got planned out for us for the rest of the day, but…”

I wasn’t sure how to put my thoughts into words. Was it way too trampy of me to want to put the kibosh on the single most romantic day of my entire life and want to jump right ahead to the hot monkey sex portion of the evening?

Will leaned back slightly. He ran a hand gently through my hair and left a trail of kisses from my temple, across my cheekbone and down to my lips.

After a long, hot, deep kiss that nearly turned my knees to liquid, Will pulled back slightly and said, “How would you feel about a change of plans? Maybe head back to the hotel?”

Exhaling a huge sigh of relief, I gave him a huge smile and said, “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

* * * *

While our riverside stroll along the Seine to the Eiffel Tower had been a relaxed, leisurely experience, the journey back was a hormone-fueled frenzy. First we had the most impossible time finding a taxi. Almost all of them were occupied with passengers, but even those that were vacant weren’t stopping for us.

“Noooo,” Will bemoaned as the third driver with an empty cab zoomed on past us.

I started laughing, and then Will started laughing, and it was all in good fun. Finally, we got one who stopped for us, and on the way back to the hotel, we made out like a couple of horny teenagers. I even managed to stroke Will’s awesome cock a bit—thorough his jeans anyway. Talk about well endowed. The guy had to be close to ten inches. I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and wrap my fingers around that bad boy.

As I attempted to stroke him through his jeans, Will gazed sweetly at me under heavy lidded eyes and reached under my skirt. Oh, hello! I parted my legs to allow him easier access, my heart pounding with desire and excitement. With deft fingers, Will delved in, pushing the crotch of my panties aside to stroke the lips of my pussy.

Holy crap!

I gasped and leaned back against the seat of the taxi, closing my eyes and methodically stroking Will’s cock as he played with my pussy. Not since my wild days in college had I been so daring as to indulge in a little finger action in the back of a taxi. And even then, it only happened late at night after far, far too many drinks. And now here I was, a woman pushing thirty, stone cold sober, getting finger fucked in the back seat of a cab in the middle of broad daylight!

And I loved it!

I think Will could tell how hot and wild I was feeling, because he was definitely steering clear of my clit. And rightfully so. If he brought me to the point of orgasm right there in the back of the taxi, I’d probably start flailing about, screeching like a chimpanzee, and I’d end up scarring our driver for life. 

Before long, the driver pulled up in front of our hotel. Will retrieved his hand to pull a few euros from his wallet and paid the man, and then we hurried through the hotel lobby to the elevator bank. We practically sprinted.

Poor Will didn’t have anything to carry in front of him to hide his erection, which
was
visible, but you’d have to be looking for it to notice, and people usually didn’t stare at other people’s crotches. At least I didn’t think they did.

As for me, I was worried that people would be able to hear a squelching noise as I walked because my pussy was
so
wet, but again, you’d have to be really close to hear it—like your ear would have to be six inches away from my pussy, and that of course was unlikely to happen.

“Your room or mine?” Will asked as we stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t care. Either one.”

He pressed the button for the seventh floor, which was where my room was. Maybe his as well. When the doors closed, we lunged at each other. He scooped me up in his arms, and pressed me against the wall of the elevator. I wrapped my legs around his waist and started grinding my pussy against him as he explored the inside of my mouth with his tongue.

What a wonderful sensation it was for Will to be holding me as if I were a willowy little lightweight—which I am clearly not. I felt so sexy, and beautiful and womanly. It was such an amazing feeling.

When the elevator doors opened, we actually did sprint down the hallway to my room. Thank goodness there was no one else around because as I fumbled through my handbag for my key card, Will, who was standing behind me, reached under my skirt and under my panties, and this time he went straight for my clit.

“Oh,
fuck
,” I breathed, closing my eyes and arching back into his chest.

With his other hand, Will reached under my top. His fingers found their way beneath the underwire of my bra and started fondling my nipple. So there I was with this gorgeous guy circling my clit with one hand and circling my nipple with the other as I pressed my back up against his huge, throbbing cock.

“
Fuck
,” I whispered again as the jolts of pleasure shooting through my body got more and more intense. I started sliding down to the floor as my thighs widened involuntarily to give Will more room to play, and he followed me without missing a beat until the two of us were kneeling on the floor right in front of the door to my hotel room. His fingers circled faster, harder, creating a level of friction so glorious I could barely even handle it. My pussy convulsed, shaking wildly against his big, strong hand. My back arched even more dramatically. I pointed my tits up toward the heavens, my body convulsing wildly, and I held my breath as the mother of all orgasms hit me with the force of a freight train. 

It took me a couple of moments to gather myself together, but when I did I twisted around to plant my lips on his and give him the deepest, sexiest kiss I could. I didn’t want to get too carried away, though. I wanted to get the two of us inside the room where we could go crazy without worrying about being discovered. And so I resumed the search for my key card, which I found before long. I rose to my feet to open the door.

Once inside, we started tearing at each other’s clothes. With his shirt off, I could see that Will’s chest was an expertly sculpted masterpiece—all smooth planes and hard ridges. It was absolutely breathtaking, but I could only gaze at it for so long because I wanted his cock so bad. I
needed
his cock.