He paused. “That was Plato, believe it or not.”
She had somehow gotten wrapped in his arms. She shivered.
“Will you do that when you fuck me?”
“When I…? Well, sure…? I guess.”
Mel took a step back and looked down at herself.
“Not tonight. You got dirt on my jacket.”
Bryan’s logical processors were being whiplashed. His mouth hung open in idiotic misunderstanding.
“Never mind,” she said, brushing the fabric over her breasts and pushing Bryan into a deeper level of erect confusion. “I came to tell you that Owen Archer is currently married to his second wife. The first one left him because of — you might guess this one — his many affairs. The current Mrs. Archer is now living in Torrey Pines and will be moving to New Jersey shortly with their two small children.”
“Shit.” Bryan said absentmindedly, one part of his brain reminding him that his lawyer could have just called him with this revelation.
He would bet the house that Lauren had no idea her white knight already had a fair maiden. Then another thought came to him and he said, “Double shit.” It was pretty much what had happened to Mel with Jaime Rodriguez.
He looked at her. She knew.
“I suppose you are a witch,” he said.
She gave him a disgusted look. “What the fuck kind of thing is that to say?’
“Forget it. Bad analogy.” He thought a moment, then pointed at her. “I thought you were working at your father’s firm.”
“Merger.” She shrugged.
Even her shrug was a legal ploy.
“And you working my case — just a coincidence? The luck of the draw?”
“As far as you know.”
He shook his head. “Fucking shysters.”
She pursed her lips. “Point me to your guest room. I’m not driving back up 95 at this hour.”
“You–”
She stopped him with an open hand. “Don’t go there. I will not be blamed every time you strike out tomorrow.”
“Who said I was going to strike out?”
**********
The Red Sox and the Yankees were tied for first.
**********
Bryan was up early and set out a pregame breakfast of whole wheat toast with blueberry jam, cherry yogurt, and a blender of mango smoothie on the kitchen island. He was just sitting to eat when Melody tiptoed down the stairs wearing one of his University of Texas T-shirts. Bryan went catatonic with a slice of toast halfway to his mouth. Several thoughts elbowed each other aside like the Three Freaking Stooges as they rushed to be first out the door: he hoped that she had found a clean shirt; he wondered if this was ethical; he judged that there was half an inch of white cotton between him knowing if she was born a redhead or not.
There didn’t seem to be as much oxygen in the air as there had been just a minute before.
She yawned and perched on a chair, as relaxed as if this were her natural environment, helped herself to a piece of toast, and poured out some of the smoothie.
“Where’s the bacon? Where’s the eggs?” She demanded through a crunching mouthful of toast.
He swallowed, staring at her nipples, which had come to attention and were saluting the cool kitchen air. “Uh… high fiber. Low fat.”
“No fun,” she said and finished the slice.
She got up, came around to him, and hoisted herself up on the table so her ass was just about where the next place setting would have been had there been one.
Confirmed. She was a redhead. A bushy bushy redhead.
“What are you… doing?” Bryan asked, with more quiver in his voice than he thought a sophisticated man of the world should ever exhibit.
She gave him a look that said they both knew the answer to that question and eased her legs apart.
He swept his plate aside so violently that both it and his smoothie glass flew across the room in a shower of toast and jam and mango shards. He grabbed her just above her knees and spread them wide, sliding her ass closer to the edge and sinking his tongue into that fuzzy red jungle. Mel squeaked in delight and grabbed his head to pull it in more tightly. The angle was not good, so he reached up and shoved her onto her back. Now he had free access to her whole slit, and he did not ease into it. No stretches or gentle warmup. He attacked her pussy like it had offended him. He licked her hard little button with long strokes as her legs shook, and he kept the rapid tempo until she spasmed with a loud exhalation that made no words yet communicated her thoughts on the matter clearly and forcefully.
Bryan was hard, maybe harder than he had ever been. He jumped to his feet while pushing his pajama bottoms down. His engorged cock caught on the table before springing free to point quivering at her saturated gash.
They locked eyes as he sank into her.
She began to curse. Colorful strings of very unladylike vulgarity interspersed with panting and sobs of pleasure. Bryan just grunted. His vision was full of flashes of light. He drooled.
Mel cried out one last motherfucker fuck fuck and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed like a python. Every one of Bryan’s muscles from his knees to his nipples contracted in sync and he began to ejaculate a prodigious volume of semen for what seemed to his fogged awareness to be an hour or so.
Somehow Bryan ended up where he had started, back in his chair, but now Mel was in his lap, kissing him, his still mostly hard prick inside her.
“What are you doing?” Bryan asked again once the train whistle in his brain had died out. “I thought you hated me.”
Mel drew back and, through the curtain of her unruly just-got-fucked hairdo, looked at him in a way that made him feel, wizard or no, that he had zero clues about vagina-carrying humans.
“I did. Boy, I hated you something fierce.” She kissed him in a definite non-hating way. “I know Brie told you about that asshole Rodriguez.”
“She did. In confidence.”
“I saw her. That day. I looked over his shoulder and saw her leaving the cabana. I didn’t care. I was in love.”
He slipped out of her and she shivered – and giggled like Harvard Law graduates are taught not to.
“I was a stupid kid who had never been in love before. I should have had practice boyfriends to get some experience, but I was the good daughter, the hard-working daughter who was going to Harvard so she could be a lawyer like her daddy. I was sexually retarded, so when it finally came…. Hit me like a truck.”
“So he….”
“Took my cherry. Yep. Nobody had ever told me that a girl always falls in love with the prick who pops her. Stupid evolutionary pressure.”
“Doesn’t explain why you treated me like shit, though.”
She reached down and cupped his balls. “God damn you, Monnic. I treated you like shit because you were just another stupid ballplayer who would tell me any damn lie to get laid… and I fell for you the first time I saw you. I didn’t hate you. I hated myself. I hated myself because I was a weak hormonal cunt who had just found out she wasn’t the dispassionate superwoman she had imagined herself to be. I hated myself because you were intelligent, kind, great to look at…. and you spoke ancient Greek, you motherfucker.”
He tilted his head. “That day I translated some Homer for you I got the feeling that it made you sick.”
“You are a pathetic excuse for a human,” she hissed, giving his scrotum a squeeze. “I was fucking turned on. My panties were soaked when you did that…. I had to run to the bathroom and rub my bean. I came so hard I think I strained a muscle.”
He started to laugh.
“What?” She said angrily, tightening her grip.
“Hey! Mercy!” He protested. She eased off, and he told her the story of how Megan Barlow would go into heat while studying Latin.
“The fucking power of dead languages, huh?” he mused. “Think we could monetize that?”
He held her for a while, kissing her neck.
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?” She seemed genuinely puzzled.
“I’m technically a married man. I thought….”
“Don’t think. You are paying me to think for you.”
“Oh, right…. And I should have put on a rubber.”
She shrugged. That simple movement made her tits bounce under the borrowed shirt in a way that Bryan found visceral. His cock sent up an alert: I could get hard again real quick, boss.
“How big is your shower?” she asked, squirming on her ass from side to side. “Let’s go. I’m leaking like an old boat here.”
**********
Bryan’s shower was spacious, but the dimensions of his bathroom became irrelevant. In midsoap, Mel shuddered and bit her bright red lipsticked lip.
“This is not relaxing at all,” she whispered.
He agreed by hastily rinsing them both and carrying her to the bed and dropping her in the middle. He crawled onto her and they squirmed and slid around on each other like wet water balloons.
“I don’t have any condoms.” A groaning confession.
“Just fuck me, will you?”
His thrusting cock found her slit. That pinned her to one place. He began to pin her again and again and didn’t even try to hold back.
It did not seem to bother her. Mel had found a pelvic angle that directed his hard flesh over her clitoris. The faster Bryan charged for his own ending, the louder Mel became until she was shouting in his ear. Nonsense sounds and obscene fragments; she fell abruptly silent and still. Her muscles locked. Bryan’s body recognized what that represented, and his mating equipment instinctively swelled and gushed.
They lay on the damp mussed bedding, not touching, just staring at the ceiling.
“You could still take her back,” she said at last.
Bryan rolled onto his side. “Are you my attorney or my lover?”
“Your easiest and least expensive option is forgiveness.”
He reached out and caressed her. Right below her navel, where her belly was smooth above her bush.
“I have considered it,” he said. He felt the slightest tensing of her muscles under his fingertips and thought it one of the best compliments any woman had ever presented him.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us…. You know what the yips are?”
She shook her head, so he explained about the gremlins that could invade and infest you and turn you into a completely different person.
“Hypocrisy is a very old Greek word. Am I being hypocritical by expecting the team to forgive my yips and give me another chance if I can’t forgive Lauren her yip?”
“She chose to leave you,” Mel pointed out. “You don’t choose to make bad throws.”