Page 81 of Easy Out

“I’m counting on it.” Her hands work their way up my body until they’re wound around my neck. I hold in a growl that wants to rumble free. Her body scoots closer to the edge of the counter.

Dios mío I want to strip her bare and make her come right here in her kitchen. She doesn’t even realize how much she turns me on with the slightest touch.

“You are sensational.” Lauren kisses my neck. “And extraordinary.” She nibbles on my ear. “I’m not just talking about baseball either. I see you.” Her eyes focus on mine so intensely I fight the urge to turn away.

“As much as I want to keep you to myself, it isn’t fair to the rest of the world. I know it’s scary for you. But you’re already doing what your coach is asking of you when you help Manny with his homework at rehearsals. Or when you talk to Carlos and Cash. You’re a natural at speaking.” That makes me chuckle.

“I’m serious.” She tugs on the back of my hair. I pretend to chomp at her wrist in retaliation. “You are not a man of many words but the words you do say mean something. They are powerful. I love that about you.” My hands flex on her hips at the mention of the word love.

I realize she didn’t declare her love for me. But Lauren loves something about me. And it isn’t about baseball or the way I look. It’s the one thing that has brought me shame my entire life.

“We should eat,” Lauren says, suddenly self-conscious over my silence. “The food is getting cold. I made one of my favorites. Fettuccine Alfredo.”

She attempts to push me out of the way so she can hop off the counter. “Hart, will you move please?” I crowd her instead, making her huff in frustration. I roll my lips to keep from smiling.

“In a minute.” I cup her face in my hands and encourage her to look at me. “Let me appreciate you for a moment.” Lauren leans into my touch as my thumb skims over her cheek. Her eyes close in submission.

I brush my lips against hers gently. “Gracias por tus dulces palabras, cariño.“ I kiss her one more time and pull her firm against my chest. She rests her head against the heart that beats for her.

We eat at her tiny dining table and chat about everything and nothing at the same time. Every now and then Lauren reveals something from her childhood. A memory of her and her mom going to a ninety-nine-cent movie or spending the day at the park.

I still don’t understand how someone who grew up being stripped of everyone she loved could turn out so sweet. Her heart must take up seventy-five percent of her body, it’s so big.

Lauren updates me on the kids. She is really concerned about Carlos and Manny. Apparently, they are staying in her trailer more and more lately.

We both secretly wish there was more we could do for them. The boys have grown on me. I think Lauren would stow them away in her dorm if she could.

When she asks me what I’m going to write in my paper about her, I freeze. I kind of forgot about it. Spending time with Lauren was never about writing a paper or getting a good grade. I knew the first night that there was something special about Lauren. I wanted her from the very beginning.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “What about you?”

“Baseball is the obvious choice, but...” She twirls pasta absent-mindedly around her fork. “There’s a lot more to you than that.” Lauren blushes, and damn, it’s adorable. “This is my chance to tell everyone who you really are.” She smirks and pops a heaping bite of food into her mouth.

“You wouldn’t talk about-”

“No,” she cuts me off. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you. That is your story to tell whenever you’re ready.” I nod. “And I don’t want-”

“I won’t.” I wipe my hands with my napkin and throw it on my plate. I lean back in my chair and widen my legs. Lauren tracks the movement. Her eyes dip down to my crotch. My sweatpants are noticeably tighter with the way she is looking at me.

“Maybe I should write about what you’re an expert at.” Lauren raises an eyebrow. Curious.

I make her wait.

Lick my lips.

Her eyes stay glued to my mouth and her chest flushes underneath the tiny crop top she has on.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“You don’t know?” She shakes her head. I get up from my seat and stand in front of her. Taking her hands in mine, I escort her over to the oversized marshmallow chair of hers. I sit down, get comfy, and then pull her onto my lap.

My fingers search out the bare skin covering her rib cage. “You are an expert chef. Dinner was really good, brujita.” I kiss her below her ear. “You’re also a really good dancer.” My lips trail down her neck to the small notch at the base of her throat.

Lauren’s hands are like a loaded gun as they float up and down my arms with a feathery touch. I feel like we’re playing Russian roulette. It’s anyone’s guess where they will land and take their shot at me.

“You are also really good at this.” I press my lips to hers. I nip and lick her lips, teasing her. Frustrated, she threads her hand through my hair and pulls herself closer to me, pushing her chest against mine. The sensation makes us both moan, and I take the opportunity to slide my tongue against hers.

I’ve lost control of my hands. They roam up and down her back and over her upper thigh and hip. Lauren climbs deeper into my lap, straddling me without breaking away from my mouth.

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