Innings and Kissing- Chapter Two

“How is the love life, dear?” Mary had asked her daughter, Stacey.

“Oh, you know, non-existent.”

Stacey noticed Mary wince and clutch her left arm, but quickly masked it with a chuckle at the joke.

The crowd had showered Alexa and Nick in bird seed as they left for their honeymoon. She felt bittersweet as she watched them leave. She was happy that they had found each other. He treated her as if she were made of gold, and she kept him grounded. However, she could not help the longing in her soul. She had once dreamed of loving someone like that, but she was older and wiser now.

As the group was filing back in the tent, she noticed a wooden bench in the middle of the pasture. Making her way towards it, she let her arms hang to her sides. Feeling the tall and soft grass under her hands, she felt like a horse grazing a hill. She sat on the bench, threw her head back and closed her eyes before sensing someone else near her.

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be outside alone, at night,” said a deep voice laced with humor.

Oh, Irish, she thought to herself.

Stacey did not have to open her eyes to know who that voice belonged to. She had fantasized about it numerous times. A husky voice, whispering wicked thoughts into her ear. The thought made her shiver. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes. She lifted her head and observed the rock-hard body of a testosterone-driven man.

Standing at six feet four inches, he was a barbarian to her five feet five inches. Huge feet met sleek calves. Muscular thighs led to the obvious bulge in his pants. So long, so thick. Heat pooled in her core.

Her gaze traveled up to his slim waist and his washboard abs. The muscles of his upper body were obviously straining against the material of his tuxedo jacket. A strong, sharp jaw was clean of stubble. A nose that met thin male lips. His hair was blonde, almost a light brown, with natural streaks of copper in it. She thought of earth and dark beers. The flesh between her thighs tightened. She was preparing herself for the moment their eyes met.

His eyes.were wild, blue, and Irish. A colour so pigmented, it was abnormal. Green and orange flecks were splattered near his iris. She had absolutely no doubt in her mind they had seen hell. She knew that for a fact. At times they seemed pure and young. But at other times, they seemed sombre and observant. They were far wiser than his age.

He had long eyelashes, that women would kill for, and eyebrows that were thick, but not unruly. She had no clue that men this gorgeous existed outside of movies. Women were infatuated, and men were jealous.Brett Daniels was the epitome of male beauty.

Brett noticed Stacey’s eyes glancing over him, as if he was a shiny object in a store window. He had absolutely no problem with it. While her eyes lingered over him, he was doing some observing of his own. Her long, sinewy legs were stretched out in front of her, legs that seemed to extend much longer than her 5’5” frame, dancer's legs. She had told him she danced, but he could not remember what kind of dance.

He noticed small writing on her left foot and wondered if she had any other tattoos. Cherry red toes peeped out from the hole in her heels. The obvious curve of her calves reminded him that she worked hard for her body, his kind of girl. The smooth muscles of her thighs were practically begging for his touch, and his gaze followed to the area where her legs met. He wondered if she was bare, or if she had curls. He would have no problem undressing her and finding out.

Her flat stomach made it obvious she trained, and trained hard. Then her breasts. Oh god, her breasts. If his erection could get any harder it would. Two perfect tear drop shaped globes of all girl. No, not a girl. This sex goddess was a full blown woman. He knew they were real. No plastic surgeon could make them look this good.

Her neck was long and elegant, just like the rest of her. Her hair was a color so deep that he knew it was natural. And long, boy, was it long. It reached well past the bottom of her breasts and almost touched her waist. Her supple cheeks met pink, luscious lips. He itched to trace her bottom lip with his tongue. A cute little nose was below the most dazzling brown eyes he had ever seen. A colour so rich he knew he could lost if he looked into them long enough.

“Concerned, Irish?” she said in a soft voice.

He wanted to come in his pants just then. He would not be able to keep it in if she kept talking.

Stacey saw him take a few steps forward before hesitating.

“It’s okay, Daniels. I don’t bite,” she said, looking up at him.

He flashed her a smile that made her swoon, and sat closer than necessary next to her.

“No, but I might,” he said in a confident voice.

Yep, she was a goner. He was so close, his musky scent flood her senses. She took a deep breath and threw her head back and admired the beauty of the stars.

“Starry eyed?” he asked before looking up as well.

“Isn’t everybody?”

His left knee touched her right, and she swore she heard sizzles in the air. Feeling the electricity crack in the air, they both sat up. His big, callused hands were thrown across his legs. His hands were meant for healing, not hurting, she thought to herself. She noticed a ring of vines were inked around his left ring finger, like a ring on his soul.

“Talisman?” she asked, flicking her head towards his hand.

He chuckled, “Something like that.”

Then she saw black writting on his right index finger that met his hand.MacAulley.

“That one?”

“My last name. The one before I took up Daniels.”

What are the odds? She thought as she burst into a fit of giggles.

Brett was not sure why she was laughing. All he knew was that she was so damned cute while doing it.

“Why are you laughing?”

When he saw her hands inch her dress up. His heart rate shot through the roof.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a wary voice.

“Don’t get too excited, Irish.”

The creamy flesh of her upper thigh was clear, except for an array of of symbols just below the lace of her red panties:XVIIIXVXIIIVXVIIIXV.

His cock strained against his pant leg. He must have looked confused as he felt because she proceeded to explain to him.

“Roman numerals,” she said,”The numeral represents the place of the letter in the alphabet.”

With a profound boldness he reached his index finger across the row of x’s and v’s. Did she shudder?

Meeting her eyes, with his finger still on her leg, he asked,”What does it spell out?”

Her lips trembled and she visibly tried to compose herself again.

“Romero,” she breathed out.

“Adopted, too?”

She nodded, never breaking his gaze.Stacey swore she heard the hum that her body was making. The vibrations in her body were so strong that she felt them in her bones. Brett must have felt them too because he leaned into her, almost meeting her lips, but not quite.

“I have dreamt of kissing your lips, Stacey,” he whispered.

The words danced and tingled across her skin. He was so close, centimeters away from giving her complete ecstasy.

Then there was a commotion in the tent.

They both pulled back and hastily made their way back to the tent. There was a crowd surrounding a spot near the bar. Stacey’s gut clench and a pit grew. She kicked off her heels and pushed her way through the clutter of people.

Her legs gave way and her knees hit the wood with a hard thwack. The impact should have hurt, but she was numb. She could barely make out the rising of her mother’s chest. She felt a scream bubble inside her. She wanted to let it free, but nothing came out of her mouth. Sirens, soft whispering, and slow wedding music made a symphony in the background, but she felt and heard nothing. All she did kiss her mothers eyelids before watching the paramedics rush her off.

“Please mama, don’t leave me,” she whispered into the cold night air.