I Kissed A Ghoul by Kat Baxter
Chapter 5
Ainsley
My heart is racing and my lips are still tingling as I wait for the machine to print our pictures. And my panties are pretty well destroyed they’re so damn wet. I don’t know what is happening with Reid tonight, but all the touches and kisses have my entire body lit up. I want nothing more than to invite him up to one of the owner’s suites and have my wicked way with him.
But then what happens tomorrow? How do we go back to just being friends if all he wants is a one-night stand? And who am I kidding, that has to be all he wants. I mean if Reid wanted something with me more permanent than a one off…if he had feelings for me, surely that would have come up before now. We’ve known each other for over a decade. He’s had more than enough time to make his move.
The entire time he lived in Chicago we talked nearly every day. Initially it was our mutual love of our two favorite horror authors: Eli Payne and Colton Briggs. But then when one of Colton’s most popular books got made into a cable series, we streamed the shows and watched them together on Discord, chatting the whole time, pausing often to speculate about the twists and turns, the changes from the books, the merits of the casting.
Our time together was my favorite part of every week, even though we were separated by hundreds of miles, even though it was only virtual.
He’d been my older brother’s best friend, but over the last year or so he and I had become very good friends as well. I know he thinks of me as just a friend. As his buddy. Yeah, I know. It’s every woman’s wildest fantasy to be buddies with a super-hot, pro ball player. Lucky me, right?
But honestly? If that’s all I can expect from him, I’ll take it. Maybe, in my secret heart of hearts, in my deepest middle-of-the-night dreams, I do wish he had deeper feelings for me, but I’m also practical enough to know that men like Reid don’t fall for women like me.
As far as I know, his longest lasting relationship was with a gorgeous, blond chick he dated at SMU who was getting her degree in Fashion Media. I think she went on to work for Vogue. Not that I analyzed everything about her trying to discern his “type” or anything. Because that would just be pathetic.
When he got traded to the Armadillos here in Austin, he’d moved back home. We hadn’t seen a lot of each other because he’d been so busy with practice. Switching teams in the middle of a season meant extra work to mesh with his new teammates.
On some level I knew our relationship would change now that we lived eleven miles apart instead of eleven hundred, but never occurred to me that Reid might nudge our relationship from “buddies” to “fuck buddies.”
I have no idea if my heart is ready to make that transition, but my body certainly is. That idea alone is terrifying, mostly because I have never responded to a male as quickly or as intensely as I did to Reid’s kiss in the booth. Being his fuck buddy just might wreck me for other men.
I’m waiting for our flip book, when he comes up behind me and plants a hand on my hip. “Okay, so how does this flip book work? You said something about needing help with the binding?”
That hand on my hip is hot and possessive and it rattles my thoughts, so I step out of his reach as I answer. “Actually, they hired someone to put the books together.” I gesture toward the chipper young blonde who is working on our book. She is exactly the kind of perky, but vapid woman I always imagined Reid dating. “So we just have to wait until she’s done. If you want to wait, here with—” I squint at her name tag. “Mendi, I can go mingle.”
I am blatantly throwing Mendi in his path. (Also, seriously? Mendi?) I’m sure Mendi would love the attention and if Reid is just looking for a hook up, she’d be a more suitable choice.
But he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he wraps his arms around me and pulls my back to his front. “Yeah, if you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re crazier than that old bellhop in Hotel of Horrors.”
A moment later, Mendi hands over our flip book, beaming. “Y’all are adorable. And definitely the hottest couple here.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
But before I can tell her we’re not a couple, Reid reaches around me and takes the flip book from her. “Thank you.”
He pockets the photo book and leans down so his lips nearly brush my ear as he says, “Hey, Peach?”
The combination of his breath on my cheek and the rumble of his deep voice makes my nipples harden.
“Dance with me.” He pulls me back into the ballroom and out onto the dance floor.
“You don’t dance,” I tell him.
“I slow dance. With you.” He pulls me flush with his body and once again I feel the hard length of his erection pressing against me.
“What’s going on, Reid? Have you been having a dry spell or something?” I ask.
He searches my face. “No. Just been waiting for the right moment with you.”
Confused and disconcerted, both by his words and his expression, I duck my head and I wrap my arms around his neck. I don’t quite rest my head on his chest, but keep my face angled away, terrified that if he sees my expression he’ll know what I’m feeling. How confused I am by this shift in our relationship.
I don’t know how to process what’s happened tonight. I have no idea what to think or feel about how he’s behaving … so I don’t. I have so many questions. I’m just not sure if I want to know the answers. So I don’t say anything for a few breaths. I don’t even let myself think. I just let him sway me to the romantic song.
He nuzzles my neck. “Why do you smell so damn good?” he asks.
“I showered today. You should try it sometime.”
“Hilarious. Seriously, you’re super funny.”
“Yes, I can tell from your laughter that you find me amusing.”
“So where is your brother tonight?” he asks.
Some of the tension inside my chest eases. This easy banter is familiar. It’s soothing. I can handle this.
“I assume he’s home with his wife. Their baby is due soon so he’s fussing around Calliope like a ninety-year-old grandmother.”
He laughs and the sound seems to pulse in my clit, but I try not to notice, because, despite the slow dancing and despite that lead pipe in his pants, this is clearly buddy-worthy conversation.
“That sounds like Rhett. She’s good for him.”
“She really is.” I smile thinking about my sister-in-law and the crazy way she and my brother met. “She’s a bit of a walking disaster, but in the best ways possible.”
“She reminds me of my Aunt Tally.”
“Oh, I don’t think I ever met her. Was she the one that lived in Costa Rica?”
“Yeah, sold everything she owned and moved down there. Lived in a hut in the rain forest not far from the beach. She was crazy and hilarious.”
“I remember when you lost her.” I squeeze him tighter to me.
“Yeah, cancer fucking sucks. Losing her sister nearly broke my poor mother.”
“But now her baby boy is back in Texas. Surely that brightens her life a bit.”
“It would be a lot brighter if I’d give her grandbabies. I hear about that at least four times a week.” He chuckles.
“Thankfully Rhett has taken care of that for me so my mother doesn’t pester. Of course my mother doesn’t particularly love small children so maybe that’s why she doesn’t ask.”
One of his hands lowers to my ass and I nearly pull away. Partly because he’s treading back into ‘fuck buddy’ territory, but mostly because I have a big butt. I’ve had it my whole life, but puberty made it a bubble butt of epic proportions. It’s just one of those things. I mean I’m proportionate. I’m not a small woman. But the butt, I’m self-conscious about.
He must feel me flinch because his fingers dig in.
“You have no idea how much this ass drives me crazy.”
I swallow and pull back to look at him. “What?”
“Fuck, Peach, didn’t you ever notice why I’m always staring at you, walking behind you. Why I call you ‘Peach?’”
“I thought it was that lotion I used in high school.”
He waggles his eyebrows. Those green eyes of his peer into me and I swear he can see my soul. “Your ass is fucking perfect.”
My ass is a lot of things. “Fucking perfect” isn’t one of them. Suddenly all of the flirtation and touching and sexy banter gets to me. Time to process is officially over. I want answers. I pull back enough to study his face.
“I don’t understand what’s happening tonight. Are you on something?” I whisper.
He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not on anything. We have mandatory drug tests on the team. Plus, I don’t do drugs. Never have. I happen to take good care of my body considering it’s my tool for work.”
“I know that,” I hiss. “Everyone knows you have a perfect body.”
His smile is blinding. Those plump lips of his spread revealing his toothpaste commercial smile. “You think my body is perfect.”
“Oh my God, you’re so ridiculous.”
“Peach, I want you.” His eyes search my face, dropping to my lips. “I thought you might want me too, but if I’ve misread things, just say the word.”
I stare at him, his handsome face so familiar to me. I’ve been half in love with this man since I was a teenager. So right now, all of these things he’s saying are like a fantasy come true, even if it’s the sexy, dirty version of the fantasy, not the romantic version.
But who am I to turn down any fantasy version of Reid? Even if he does just want a fling, I’m woman enough to admit that the dirty, sexy fantasy has a lot of appeal.
“You didn’t misread anything.” I want to ask if he means just for tonight or something else, but I don’t have the courage. I’m sure he’s just wanting a hookup. Normally, that’s not my speed. But I’m not going to give up an opportunity to have all my teenage fantasies come true. Well, except the ones about Harry Styles.
I can be an adult about this. He’s not asking for forever. He’s asking for tonight and I want this. I want him.
“I want you, too,” I say, feeling the boldness down to my toes. “I have a suite upstairs.”
His eyes darken as the black of his pupils swallow his green depths. “Do you need to stay here at the party for anything?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I should probably let Fiona know I’m leaving, but I can just send her a message.”
“I think I saw her earlier,” Reid says. “She was dressed as that Scottish princess with the big curly red hair.”
I smile. “Yeah, that was her.” My best friend looks like a damn sprite. “I just need to get my purse from my office, then we can go.” I bite down on my lip. “Are you sure about this? What if things get weird between us?”
“Define weird.” He arches an eyebrow. “We talking necrophilia?”
I bust out a laugh. “God, no!”
“You’ve got some secret Furry fetish I should know about?”
I’m shaking my head, still laughing, even though I can’t tell if he’s being deliberately dense to avoid answering my question.
But he takes my hand and starts weaving us through the crowd. “Never mind. Even if it’s a Furry thing, I think I can’t work with that.”
“Oh my, God. I am not a Furry.”
“Then we’re good.”
I dig my heals in, pulling back on his hand until he stops and turns to face me. “But—”
He closes the distance between us and cups my jaw, meeting my gaze, his eyes suddenly serious. “Are you going to let things get weird?”
“I’m not planning on it,” I say.
“Then let’s just agree to not let things get weird. I don’t want to stop being your best friend, Peach.”
“I never said you were my best friend.”
“You’re my best friend. All of the guys on the team know.”
I tilt my head. “You talk about me to your teammates?”
“I talk about you to anyone who will listen.”
He says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And then he takes my hand again and makes a beeline for the door.
My heart is thundering in my chest and I’m nervous. Shit, Reid is going to see me naked.
We don’t talk as we walk, hand-in-hand, to my office where I grab my purse.
I’m going to have sex with Reid.
I’m going to have sex with Reid.
I’m going to have sex with Reid.
The thought plays over and over in my head. Holy shit, I’m going to have sex with Reid.
Not only is he my best friend, but he’s legitimately the sexiest man I’ve ever met. Despite being a professional athlete, he’s not an overgrown beefcake like many of his teammates. He’s tall and lean and muscular in the best possible way. It’s what makes those underwear ads so freaking hot. I haven’t seen his body in person. I’ve tried not to gawk at those underwear ads too much, because it feels like an invasion of his privacy, since we’re friends. But even though I don’t gawk, it’d be impossible not to look.
Likewise, I’m trying not to think about all of my jiggly bits. Maybe he’ll be cool with keeping most of the lights off.
By the time we make it to the elevators, my hands are shaking. Reid doesn’t give me any time to second guess anything though. Because even though we’re not alone in the elevator, he’s got my backside pressed to his alarmingly large feeling erection. He’s got an arm wrapped around my waist holding me tight to his body.
But he talks to the other people in the elevator like his dick isn’t trying to drill a hole through our clothes.
“Good luck with the game this weekend,” one guy tells him.
“Yeah, thanks, man,” Reid says.
The other people get off on their respective floors and we’re alone traveling the rest of the way to the suite.
He grinds himself against me. “I’m so fucking hard for you, Peach.”
His hands reach around and cup both of my breasts and he licks up the side of my neck.
“Reid,” I whisper.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say my name like that. All those nights on the phone with you. I’d hang up and barely get my pants undone before I had my hand on my cock.”
His words are a revelation. But I don’t know if he’s being completely honest or if it’s part of the seduction. Right now I don’t even care. I just want him to touch me.
The elevator opens and I grab his hand and pull him forward to the suite. It takes me three tries to get the keycard to work and then we’re inside. He tears off his jacket and drops it onto the floor, then his tie. Then he’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from the waist band of his slacks. He drops it to the floor leaving him in a wife-beater undershirt which somehow he manages to make look sexy and his pin-striped pants.
The dick-tent he’s pitching is obscene and makes me ridiculously hot. I turn away from him, presenting him with my back so he can unzip my dress. The dress is halfway off my body when I remember I’m wearing shape wear underneath.
Dammit. That’s not sexy at all.
I try to pull away from him, holding the dress to my front so I can make my way to the bathroom.
“Why don’t you wait in the bed and I’ll be out in a minute?”
“What are you wearing, Ainsley?” He grabs the dress and pulls it the rest of the way off my body leaving me in the blackbody suit. “It is some kind of a swimsuit?”
I turn around to face him and know I’m probably blushing, but hey I’m just gonna own it. “No, it’s shape wear. Women wear these underneath clothes to smooth out their shape so we can hide some of our parts.”
One brow arches over his green eyes. “What could you possibly want to hide? You’re gorgeous.”
I laugh. “Hardly. But thank you.” Again I try to move around him to get to the bathroom.
“How do I get it off?” he asks.
“I’ll do it.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to hide from me.” He pulls the straps off my shoulders and tries to shove the lycra down my body, but it won’t budge.
Awesome. This isn’t awkward at all.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Look, this isn’t at all sexy. Can I just go take it off, then I’ll come out in a towel or something?”
“Peach.” He cups my face, his tone so gentle and tender that it nearly brings tears to my eyes. “Everything about you is sexy. Even this torture device you’re wearing. Now hold still.” Then he grabs the material with both hands and rips it clean down the middle.
I gasp because holy shit, I was not expecting that. My body spills out and I try in vain to wrap my arms around my body. It’s too late though, he’s seen everything. Primarily the red marks from the seams pressing into me.
He rubs a thumb over the tender skin, then looks up at me, his face dark with anger.
“Promise me you’ll never wear anything like that again.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. Look at your skin, your perfect, beautiful skin is hurt from being bound up like that. Don’t wear them anymore, Peach. I’m serious.”
I swallow and nod, because what am I supposed to say? And it becomes alarmingly clear, he’s not disgusted with any part of my body, he’s mad at the shape wear.
Good heavens, but he’s adorable.
“I’m sorry if I killed the mood,” I say.
He grabs my hand and pulls it to the front of his pants, pressing my palm against his erection. “You didn’t kill anything.”
I grip his cock through his pants, squeezing slightly.
He hisses, then drops to his knees. One at a time, he removes my heels, then rolls down my stockings. Then I’m completely bare.
He runs his palms up my thighs, making me widen my stance. Then one thumb swipes through my center.
“I like that you’re not waxed. That you just trim.” He looks up at me and I can’t even see the green in his eyes anymore, his pupils are so large. “So fucking sexy.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to the juncture of my thigh and my hip. “I’m going to eat this pretty pussy, but first I gotta see that peach. Turn around for me, Ainsley.”
I decide then and there that I’ll never enjoy a moment of this night if all I do is worry about my dimples and cellulite and stretch marks. He’s seen me now and he hasn’t left. He still wants me. So I brazenly turn, effectively putting my ass right at his eye level.
He reaches up and grabs both cheeks and squeezes. “Fuck, it’s even more perfect than I imagined.” Then I feel the sting of his teeth, then the warmth of his tongue.
