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Baller’s Baby(4)

By:Saylor Bliss


Startling blue eyes turn to me, wanting to see who has spoken, more than likely. The fire in his gaze makes me squirm. His eyes rake over my body from head to toe.

I know that look. That look is trouble. I turn my back to him so I can focus on the officer. Of course, I have to stretch the truth a tad and tell him that Rod was the one to throw the first punch.

I don’t care. He deserves a night in jail for putting his hands on my best friend. I finish telling my side of things and then follow as the officer leads me to his car to write out a statement. Lisa follows behind me so she can write hers up too. So much drama. I can't wait to get home and strip out of this dress and heels.

The night out was a bust. Glancing up on my way outside, I see another cop releasing the three strangers who saved us. My eyes are drawn back to the man on the ground. He rubs his wrist like the handcuffs irritated him for the five minutes they were in place.

There is something about him, something I can't quite put my finger on, but it’s strikingly familiar. I shake my head, laughing at myself. I just arrived in LA yesterday, and I didn't know a soul other than Lisa. How could anyone here be familiar to me?

Wishful thinking, Skila.

It’s probably just homesickness sinking in.

“I’m just gonna head back to the apartment, Lisa. I’ve had enough excitement tonight.” I say to her, exhaustion seeping into my every word. She seems to notice a moment later.

“Okay. Let me square away my tab, and I'll come with you,” she offers.

“No, no, it's ok. You stay and have fun. I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad.” I laugh at that. Going home sounds absolutely divine. Going home alone for a few sounds even better.

“Yep, I'll see you later. Stay out of trouble.” I pierce her with my stare. She laughs and turns to walk back in the club, ignoring my last statement. That girl has always been trouble. It follows her everywhere she goes. For the millionth time this week, I ask myself just what I’ve gotten into by moving here. Day one, and I’m already in over my head, lying to the police to bail out strangers I don’t even know. I hate to see what tomorrow might bring.

Too late to go back now. I'm going have to see this through, no matter how bad it gets. I’m not a quitter.





Chapter Three

Kiptyn



I see her.

She’s walking down the street with one heel on, and as I watch, she leans against the brick wall and slips the other off. Digging in the bag at her side, she pulls out a pair of shorter, flatter shoes and slides them on her feet before she stands to resume her walk. I catch up to her then.

“Excuse me,” I say, startling her. She jerks her head to the side, glancing at me over her shoulder. Her body relaxes for a split second before tensing up again.

“Yeah?” she asks, turning to face me.

I don’t know what I planned to say to her once I had her attention, so I decide to just wing it. My natural charm and charisma have never failed me before.

“Thanks for that save back there. I really appreciate it. Why don’t you let me take you somewhere and show you proper thanks?”

She throws back her head and laughs. The moonlight glances off her bare throat, beckoning to me. I take a step closer to her, and her laughter dies instantly.

“No thanks. I’m good,” she says.

I close the distance between us, and her cheeks flush with excitement. For a moment, I was starting to wonder if the attraction I felt for her was all one-sided, but now I know it isn’t. My hand reaches out and skims down the silky smooth skin of her arm. Her breath catches in her throat.

“Are you sure? I promise it will be worth it.”

She steps in close to me. Our mouths are almost touching. I can taste the breath coming out from between her lips. She doesn’t move another inch, just standing there, staring at my lips, waiting for me to capture hers.

“Maybe there is something you can do for me,” she whispers, and my cock responds, immediately jumping to action. She pulls her mouth away from mine just enough so that she can trail breathy kisses along my jaw to my ear.

Her hands travel to the tops of my shoulders. Her fingers squeeze each side of the muscle lining my biceps before she trails them down my chest and then lower still to my abs. I want to pull her to me, tuck her in the alleyway, and fuck her into oblivion right now, but not until she asks for it. Not until she begs. I have her just where I want her. Mine for the taking.

“Name it, baby.”

My hands travel up and down her back, lightly grazing the contours of her ass. Her heart beats rapidly against my chest, like a hummingbird in flight. She takes a breath and nibbles gently on my earlobe before whispering in my ear.

“Get lost, asshole.”

She whips around so fast that I’m left there wondering what the hell just happened. Never in my life have I been turned down, especially not after having my hands on a woman. What the fuck? Before I can comprehend anything, she’s gone, and I’m left standing on the sidewalk with a hard on I can’t do shit with.

Picking up my cell, I call Chris. “Yo, where you at?”

“At the house. You coming over? I got a house full.”

“Yeah. I’m on my way.”

I spot a hot little redhead the moment I walk in and quickly let it be known that she’s coming home with me. She doesn’t mind a bit. I sip on a beer and enjoy talking shit for about an hour before I take my leave. The redhead follows willingly. I take her back to my place and proceed to show her exactly why no one denies Kiptyn Price.

Her legs tighten around my head as the orgasm rips through her. I lick her one more time, sucking softly on her pearl of joy before I lift my head and sit back on the couch. She knows what time it is. I watch her hungrily as she gets to her knees and pulls me free. Her mouth is working hard at trying to bring any kind of life to my partner, but the little fucker is dead. I try to coax him with my hand, but after a minute, it becomes obvious that it isn't happening tonight.

“Fuck. I’m never drinking another drop again,” I say, even though I know all I had was a sip of alcohol. It’s something else entirely—I just wasn’t about to make that public knowledge.

“Mmm, its ok, baby. I can keep trying,” the redhead says, and I can see by the look on her face that she means it. She will do whatever it takes to bring life to my cock. She must have heard the many rumors circulating about what I would do with all nine inches of it . . . if I can get it up.

“Nah, it’s cool.” She deflates right there in front of me. “Maybe next time,” I offer. Her eyes light up. I don't usually take a girl a second time. Once is enough for me. There are too many fine pieces of ass in this world for me to spend more than one night on the same girl, but I felt like I owe this chick a redo.

“Yeah, that would be great.” Her voice purrs at me. I show her to the door and take the small piece of paper with her number on it from her before shutting the door. I can't fucking believe this shit. It's eleven at night, and I’m showing a chick out the door. Never in my life has this happened to me.

Hell, even when I was green, just coming out of the gates of virginity, I lasted more than an hour. I take pleasure in being the best fuck out there. I am a goddamn pro. I’ve never sent a chick home unsatisfied. Of course, I didn't send this one home that way either. I made sure she enjoyed herself before I even thought about taking mine. I could still taste her on my lips, smell her on my hands.

Stepping in the oversized shower, I turn the water on hot and then turn on the jets lining the wall behind me. Water cascades over me in torrents. I lather up my sponge and wash away the last of the sticky pussy juices, wondering again what the hell is wrong with me.

For a second, I think about making a doctor appointment. There is some scary shit that can happen to a man, and none of it sounds fun—especially if it makes it to where I can’t get my dick hard. I’m only twenty-fucking-four. Surely I don’t have to worry about prostates and shit, right?

“Fucking hell,” I say, and my mind races, trying to figure out what’s wrong. When was the last time I got off? When’s the last time my dick got hard? Earlier tonight flashes into my mind, and the sexy as fuck chick standing over me in four-inch heels with legs that went on for days.

My cock twitches.

I close my eyes and picture her there. I picture the way her ass rounded out perfectly, dipping high and then tucking in low at her thighs.

My cock hardens.

I stroke my hand along it, imagining her thick, full lips wrapping around the head of it and then her slowly taking me in her mouth, inch by glorious inch. I pump faster.

I imagine her on her back, spread before me, begging me to fill her. I readily oblige. Tightening my grip, I imagine sliding into her tight pussy. My breath is rushing out in puffs, short and labored. I can feel my orgasm building at the base of my cock, ready.

One pump.

Two.

My world shatters apart. My seed shoots out from deep within, smearing on the wall across from me. Spent, I lean against the warm tile and turn the water to cool. At least I know my cock isn't broken—just picky.

I need to find this chick and fuck her senseless. It’s the only way to get her out of my head so I can move on. I need to fuck her. Horny women across America depend on it.

Climbing from the shower, I try to ignore the ringing of my phone, but it’s the house phone, and only family has this number, so I wrap a towel around my hips and grab the cordless off the nightstand in my bedroom.