Physical Touch (13 page)

“Challenge accepted. But not until you’ve completed five pick-ups. That way, I can wear you out and beat your ass with ease.” 

Swimming back over to the other side of the pool, she pulled herself out of the water and onto the ledge. Grabbing the remaining balls in her hand, she threw them all in.  “Ready, set, go!” 

****

It was as if someone flipped a switch in Rylie, who was now suddenly joking and laughing with Mitch, freely sharing stories about her childhood and playing around in the pool, clearly relaxed and happy. To Mitch, the biggest turn-on was an easy flirtation with a beautiful woman who could just as casually lob over some “
That’s what she said
” one-liners just as quickly as he could. This new Rylie was even more beautiful, with her brown sugar eyes glittering every time she laughed and smiled.

The afternoon in the pool proved to be both fun and functional. She did do what she said she was going to do and beat him three out of five times in the dive-and-catch race, but he got her back the final round. She’d thrown the ball to the end of the pool, counting to three and both speeding off, kicking and flailing towards the goal. About half way down the length of the pool, Mitch knew he was losing his lead and allowed her to swim past him. He stood in admiration as he watched the way her legs kicked gracefully behind her and her lithe body maneuvered through the water. 

The tight blue Lycra suit clung to her body in every perfect curve. It fit snug between her creamy thighs, wrapping around her small waist and around the perfect shape of her ass. Her breasts were round and supple, more than a handful, he anticipated.  Her nipples formed against the material, crying out to be pinched and tweaked between his competent fingers, and bathed by his tongue. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, realizing it may be a lost cause. Just being in her presence made him ache to be inside of her, to feel her underneath him. But he knew he had to take this slow. For some reason, she was protective of the boundaries she’d created and seemed firm on the rules she’d set between them. But rules were meant to be broken.

A few seconds later, Rylie popped out of the water, hand raised in the air, clutching her red ball in victory. “Eat it, Camden – I win again! Michael Phelps can kiss my ass.” 

Mitch couldn’t help himself as he waded through the water, grabbing the top of her head with both hands and dunking her. Immediately letting go, she came up sputtering and laughing, protesting and calling him names.

“You’re such a poor sport!” she gasped, making a show of coughing out the water she’d taken in. “You can’t stand it that I’m just that good and kicked your ass.” She pushed the strands of wet hair out of her face, sticking her tongue out at him in defiance. 

He took a few steps closer, closing the distance between them, the water coming up past their chests. “I’m the loser? So says you. Even though you’re the one prancing around in here with that perfect little ass of yours willing me to lose just so I can watch it and your beautiful body swim past me. I think you wanted me to lose just for that reason.”

Water dripped off her chin down to the cliff of her breasts, as he watched her reaction, which had turned from joking to heated desire. In one quick fluid movement, Mitch had his arm securely wrapped around Rylie’s waist, pulling her up against him. Her small gasp had him wanting to take her in the pool, pushing aside her suit and filling her in one smooth movement.

“You know what I do with poor winners, don’t you?” he asked, a slight growl in his tone added for emphasis. 

She blinked, her lips parting ready to say something, but instead she licked her lips. 

He was tempted to take them. To possess them. To feast on her mouth like she was his only form of nourishment. To hell with the consequences.

Instead, he dunked her again and waded to the side of the pool as he hopped out. He was too close to losing it and had to get some distance from her, at least for now.

Grabbing one of the towels from the chaise lounge, he dried off and wrapped it around his waist. Taking the other towel, he unfolded it and with outstretched arms, invited her up. She was staring at him with a dumbfounded look, making him feel like a jerk. Nothing he could do about that right now if he wanted to keep sane.

“We should think about getting showered and dressed. We have a thing tonight with my business clients.”  Slipping the towel around her shoulders, Mitch backed away to avoid any further contact with her wet and slick body. “Tonight’s casual, T-shirt and shorts if you want. Did you bring a cocktail dress for tomorrow night, like I suggested?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call that a suggestion, more like an order,” she snorted and rolled her eyes. “But yes, I did bring a dress.”

Rylie took the towel, drying herself off as Mitch stared intently, watching her hands as she moved the towel up and down the length of her body and then over her head to dry her hair. Shaking it loose, it fell in wet, long waves down her back. It was all he could do to keep himself from grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her into his arms and kissing her speechless. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going and who we’ll be meeting? I’m not exactly sure why you’re even taking me anywhere, because I’m not here as your date. And I’m certainly not your for-hire escort, Mr. Camden.”

He was amused at how easily she could get riled up and huffy over something she thought was a slight. No, he didn’t think of her as a paid escort, of course not. But a date? Hell, yes. That is definitely what he wanted and it peeved him that she made it sound so unwanted.

“So we have to put labels on this? Well then, let me tell you this,” he said with a swell of annoyance, pressing in close to her, his mouth mere inches from her lips. It would take nothing for him to capture her mouth and lose himself in her.

“If you were here as my
date
, you wouldn’t still be standing here in that dripping wet suit. I’d be getting you hot and wet in a whole different manner – with my hands, and mouth and tongue. And I have never, nor will I ever, need a paid escort of any kind. So, now that we’re clear on those matters…I suggest you go get your ass ready.” 

With that he turned and walked toward the house, leaving her gaping after him.

The Miami sun was beginning to set, leaving a golden orange glow hovering over the city. Mitch still hadn’t told her where they were headed, but they were driving towards the metropolis of Miami. It was still hot and sticky, a not-so-balmy eighty-five degrees, so Rylie had settled on a pair of white shorts and a blue tank top, very casual as he’d suggested, paired with some slip-on sandals. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, mostly to get it off her neck, which was now beaded with sweat from the coastal humidity. 

She was still a little more than miffed at Mitch for how he ended things out by the pool earlier. For once she’d let her guard down just a little and was beginning to enjoy the easy banter they had going on, joking and laughing together. But then he had to go and say something to remind her of what an asshole he could be, so Neanderthal and caveman like. The ego that man had was off the charts. She was not, nor would she ever be, one of his play toys that he could use and throw away after he’d gotten what he wanted. If it’s one thing she knew more assuredly about herself was that she would always demand respect from a man. She would not be treated in any other manner.

Yet, for all the testosterone-filled aspects of his words earlier, he’d done nothing else to give her any indication that he was anything but respectful to women. He opened doors for her. He complimented her, although it was usually with a tint of sexual overtones. He also seemed to appreciate the level of her abilities as it related to her profession. So what was it that he did that always got under her skin? Was it the way he looked at her, the way his eyes seemed to drink her in, making her light up on the inside?  

She figured this had to be the case, as he opened her car door for her to get in as they got ready to leave for the evening.
Mitch had said nothing to her when she came out of her room to find him waiting for her near the kitchen. He’d simply given her a look and walked her out to the car. The only exception was the little hiss he emitted as she slid down into the leather car seat. He’d given her a long appreciative glance up and down her legs, a pained expression on his face. Good. He should feel a bit uncomfortable.

She playfully posed. “It might last longer if you took a picture.”

He let out a little whistle and smiled a cheeky grin. “Be careful what you ask for. I just might.”

They continued driving for a considerable distance, past downtown Miami and then into North Miami, as traffic slowed to a screeching halt on I-95. Swarms of cars, trucks and every other sized vehicle with flags and banners streaming from their windows, passengers yelling and cheering, as they all seemed to be heading in the same direction. She turned to Mitch, pulling at the front of his T-shirt to get a look at the logo, as his plan finally came into view for her. 

“You’re taking me to a Dolphins game?” she asked.

“Am I?  Because this isn’t a date, you know.” He grinned his lopsided smile and motioned with his head to a bag down by her feet on the car floor. “Open it up. That’s for you.”

A gift? Well that was an unexpected surprise. Not something a typical asshole would do. Pulling the plain brown paper bag up to her lap, she opened it and pulled out an aqua and orange colored V-neck T-shirt with the Miami Dolphins logo on the front. 

“I know you’re a die-hard Patriots fan, but maybe tonight, since the Fins are playing the Jets, you can root for Miami.” He shrugged nonchalantly, the edge of his mouth quirking up, indicating his mirth.

Rylie felt her body tingling with a joy and excitement she’d never felt before – the butterflies knotting themselves in a tiny spin cycle in her stomach. She’d never been surprised like this by anyone, not her brother or her father, or any of her friends, past or present. Even though it was only a T-shirt, for some reason it made her feel special and cared for. And it clearly showed that Mitch had a sweet side, even if he had practically admitted only wanting to get into her pants.

Rylie bit back a smile that was threatening to take over her face. She was in foreign territory and wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a gift like this.  

Leaning over the gear shift, she planted a sweet, chaste kiss on Mitch’s cheek. He jerked back slightly, seemingly caught off guard by the display of affection. 

“Thanks,” she whispered in his ear, her voice thick with genuine gratitude. “This is kick ass.”

“You’re welcome,” he grinned, looking over at Rylie, who was nearly squirming in her seat with excitement. “I wonder what you’ll do when I tell you where our seats are? I’m sure it will be worth more than a kiss on the cheek,” he mused, pulling into the parking lot and showing a pass to the parking attendant. She slapped him lightly on his arm. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Camden…but where exactly are our seats?”

He hummed to himself and played coy, pulling into a parking spot and turning off the engine. “Do you know who the owners of the Miami Dolphins are?”

Rylie searched her recollection and nodded her head. “Yeah, I think it’s a collection of several celebrities. Gloria Estefan, Marc Anthony, J-Lo and maybe
even the Williams’ sisters. And, oh yeah, Jimmy Buffett. Why?”

“You might just want to be careful not to sit in any of their assigned seats tonight, since we’ll be in the owner’s box.”

Rylie’s mouth dropped wide open. She was in complete and utter awe at the idea of watching a game in the owner’s suite. “Holy shit – are you kidding me? H-How in the hell did you score that?”

Stepping out, Mitch walked around the car to open Rylie’s passenger door, lending his hand to help her out. Keeping a tight hold on her hand, he pulled her close, lowering his head a few inches to meet her eye level.

“Let’s just say I have friends in all the right places, IQ.” Bringing her knuckles up to his mouth, he gave them a kiss, his eyes never leaving hers. He then turned her hand over, where he placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, his tongue licking the same spot. “And I’m very glad I get the chance to pull in some favors for someone as beautiful as you.”

She pulled her hand back, trying to look piqued as she moved ahead of him toward the stadium, but his compliment and his very hot mouth had affected her more than she would ever let on.
Inside, she swooned. If the liquid heat that rushed between her thighs and low in her belly was any indication, Mitch Camden could definitely charm his way into her pants. And all it took was football tickets.

****

The suite was stocked full of free-flowing booze, a banquet of food, lively conversation with regular bursts of whoops and hollers, and of course, celebrities galore. Everywhere Rylie turned she’d end up face-to-face with a famous personality.  Jay-Z and Bey popped in, along with their entourage in tow. Marc Anthony and a beautiful model came and went, barely saying a word through their enormous show of PDA. Gloria Estefan and her family were there. Gloria was full of smiles and constantly humming a beautiful tune in the midst of the chaos, her husband by her side the entire time.

Rylie was completely star struck. She wanted to be respectful of their privacy and space, but she so badly wanted to introduce herself to all of them, and tell them what a big fan she was of each of them. But she also was a guest of Mitch’s and would not be making a fool out of herself in his presence. It didn’t stop her from texting Dylan, though, and rubbing it in where she was and who she was with.

Filling up her plate at the buffet, she turned to see Mitch taking a sip of his beer, chatting with a man she hadn’t met. He was talking to him, but his gaze was on her, as he smiled and raised his glass in a toast to her, beckoning her over to them. As she headed in his direction, she couldn’t help but wonder how someone like Mitch would have these types of connections. Mitch was certainly an extremely bright and successful man, as well as rich and utterly handsome, but that didn’t necessarily parlay into gaining access into the private parties of the rich and famous.

As if reading her mind, Mitch brought her in on the conversation and introduced her to the man he was speaking to.

“Rylie Hemmons, let me introduce you to Randall Tully. He’s a business partner of mine. You can thank him for the exclusive back-stage access to tonight’s game.”

Transferring her plate to her left hand, she raised her right to shake his outstretched hand, which he brought to his mouth to kiss. “Miss
Hemmons, so nice to meet you.”

The difference between his kiss and the one Mitch had given her out in the parking lot was night and day. With Mitch, his kiss acted as the spark to her flame. He could start fires
with the way he consumed her. As for Randall Tully, he turned her skin cold.

“Mr. Tully, it’s a pleasure. I can’t tell you what a big fan I am of football. And this is the first time I’ve been in a suite like this!”

“Please, call me Tully,” he stated, holding on to her hand a little longer than necessary, sending a cold shiver up her arm. “I’m so glad that you could join us tonight.  It’s refreshing to have such a beautiful woman here who knows a thing or two about the sport.”

Rylie saw Mitch scowl slightly at Tully’s hand-holding and decided she’d play a little. She could tell he seemed annoyed, but she didn’t know why. She hadn’t done or said anything that would cause him to be irritated. It was then that she realized that she actually enjoyed the feeling she got from Mitch’s interest. The way he looked at her, like she was something beautiful. He seemed to notice her, even in a room full of beautiful and interesting people, his eyes were always pinned on her.   

While not particularly practiced in the art of flirting, she wanted to see what a little could do to Mitch’s attention. “Tully,” she cooed, trying her best not to sound ludicrous. “This is so much fun! It’s really too kind of you to invite us into this private suite. You’re much too generous. So how do you and Mitch know one another?” She flipped her hand through her hair, drawing a silent question from Mitch, his eyebrow quirked up.  

Tully looked over to Mitch and gave him a little elbow to the arm. “Mitch and I are business partners. He’s a genius when it comes to land development projects. In fact, we’re currently working on one down here in Miami that will be a first ever of its kind.”

It was obvious by his uncomfortable stance that Mitch didn’t like being flattered or praised, but joined in to explain more about the project. “I met Tully and his partner John Albertson, or Albie, as we call him, through a mutual acquaintance. They were looking to renovate an area down here and establish it as an eco-friendly, all green and sustainable project, so they contacted me. It’s been about three years in the making and we’re just starting the ground breaking this week. That’s why I’m down here.”

Rylie nodded, flashing a bright smile. “Sounds interesting. I’d love to learn more about it,” she said, directing her statement to Mitch. Tully, however, pounced on the opportunity.

“I’d be more than happy to show you around the site while you’re here. When would be a good time for you, Rylie?”

Caught a little off guard, not realizing her mistake, she looked helplessly at Mitch, who was finishing off his beer. Taking a swig, he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a conniving smile. Great, she could tell she was now on her own after her little charade and was on the hook to try and get out of it. She didn’t know Tully, and the feeling she got from him was a bit like that of a predator. Shiny on the outside, but slimy on the inside.

“Oh - well, I’m not really sure. I don’t actually have any free time scheduled, since I am working and on Mitch’s time. Mitch?”  Rylie glared at Mitch now, giving him a pleading stare, looking for a way out. She didn’t realize the type of game she’d gotten into, being a pawn between two equally competitive men. And from the looks of it, Mitch was going to make her work for it.

Grabbing another beer off the counter, Mitch opened the top and took a long drag. Before he could step in to intercede, Tully was off again.

“Well I could take you out tomorrow for lunch. Mitch has some meetings with the contractors and city council members, don’t you Mitch?”

For a brief moment, Rylie thought Mitch looked like he would break the bottle with the force in which he gripped the neck. Gradually he loosened his hold and the tension eased from his fingers and he again shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah, sure. If that’s what Rylie wants, that’s fine. As long as I get what I’m paying for, the rest of her free time is up to her.”

Rylie jerked her head to give him an evil glare. How dare he make her sound like a prostitute! She was not
Pretty Woman
, for Pete’s sake. And just like that, he was now back to asshole status, just as she was beginning to think Mitch was such a gentleman. She glared at him with as much intensity as she could muster.

Tully took full advantage of the opportunity. “Great, it’s settled then.” Taking her hand, he placed it to his lips again and then ran his fingers down the length of her arm in a very sexual gesture. She shivered, trying to ignore the disgust factor that emanated from his touch. “I’ll see you, darling, tomorrow at ten. I’m looking forward to it.”

Rylie tried to smile, but nearly bit through her tongue with the anger bubbling up from the depths of her being. Her words were strangled in her throat and she just nodded as the crowd cheered wildly at a play on the field, as Tully excused himself to watch the action.