Stealing Home Page 3

  Maybe she just had a familiar face. “You’re an NSYNC fan?”

  Three

  “Tearin’ Up My Heart” softly played overhead and Bobbi nodded as she twirled a maraschino cherry in her mouth. “The best boy band to have ever done it.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed at Bobbi’s tongue twirl action. He was positive she was not flirting with him, but he really wanted to see what that tongue could do. “Oh, I think the Backstreet Boys and their hundred million records sold might beg to differ.”

  Bobbi’s eyes cut to Quinn. “Do not tell you’re a Backstreet Boys fan.”

  “I won’t.” Quinn replied with a smile.

  “You’re a Backstreet Boys fan.” Bobbi said without a smile. “I’m assuming you’re a straight male?”

  “Last time I checked,” Quinn nodded. “Good music is good music.”

  “I just don’t know any straight men who are Backstreet Boys fans.” Bobbi shrugged.

  “If I told you I was a fan of Boyz II Men, you wouldn’t blink an eye, but some songs mostly white boys make you question my sexuality?” Quinn cocked his head.

  Bobbi swallowed. “I stand corrected.”

  “Besides they have better songs than Justin T. and the Four Forgettable Ones.”

  “And I know you’re not talking shit about my boys!” Bobbi scoffed as Quinn shrugged and took a pull from his beer. “I know that didn’t just come out of your mouth!”

  “But where’s the lie, though?” Quinn asked. The server came by with their food and they both thanked her. “I mean, where is the lie?”

  “Like any of the Backstreet Boys are memorable on their own. They don’t even have a standout member!” Bobbi dusted her hair from her neck. “Nick Carter wishes he could be Justin Timberlake.”

  Quinn was too focused on Bobbi’s bare neck, and how much he wanted to suck it that he almost forgot it was his turn to speak. “So, you do know the guys?” Quinn prodded. “It’s okay to like the opposing team. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Whatever!” Bobbi laughed.

  Through the course of the night, Bobbi and Quinn never left each other’s side. She learned how much he loved baseball. He learned her favorite color was green. She was astonished to know how much of a music fanatic he was. He was surprised to see she was a music festival junkie.

  They migrated from the bar to a nearby pool table and took part in a few games. Even after a few games and talking loads of smack to each other, Quinn knew Bobbi had no idea who he was. He couldn’t bear to tell her, neither. She was a fun woman and he wanted to keep the momentum going.

  He knew – as well as she did – the moment she found out who he was, things wouldn’t be the same between them. It was best they were just strangers having fun.

  Still, he couldn’t help the twitch in his jeans every time she was near him. Granted, he could say that about any woman, but Bobbi, though…Bobbi made Quinn’s heart pounce and the need to just fuck her, not make love, took over.

  “So, your family went to Berkeley but you went to Howard instead,” Quinn began as he watched Bobbi prepare for another shot. He particularly liked the way her ass jiggled. “Any reason why?”

  “Not really,” Bobbi made the shot and studied the table. She walked around and prepared for another shot. “What I wanted was in Howard and not in Berkeley.”

  “What was in Howard?”

  “Home.” Bobbi replied and made a shot. “Simple as that. It’s also where I learned how to play pool. When I didn’t want to study or needed a break from looking at my paper for the umpteenth time, I played pool.” She walked around and prepared to take another shot but missed.

  “You need to arch your hips more.”

  Bobbi turned around and stared at Quinn. She cursed at herself for doing so. His blue eyes sparkled under the hot lamp. She felt her cunt thump in response and blinked away the feelings. “Excuse you?”

  “People think all of the shot is in the hands and arms, but it’s really in the hips.” Quinn chalked his stick and leaned over the table. He made a shot. “Like so.”

  Bobbi was too busy watching at how perfectly round Quinn’s ass was. It was luscious and squeezable. She immediately thought about how much she would squeeze when he was on top of her. “I missed one shot out of how many and you’re giving me advice?” Bobbi blinked the thought of her head.

  “You were struggling to make the other shots,” Quinn mentioned as he stood back up, “Here, let me show you.” He stood behind Bobbi. “Lean over.” Bobbi’s eyebrows arched and Quinn shook his head. “I think I would be a bit cornier if I wanted to get behind you.”

  Quinn had a plethora of corny jokes the entire night. She didn’t want to admit to him how much she found them endearing. “Duly noted.” She positioned herself to make a shot. “Okay, Sir. Now what?”

  Quinn felt his cock stir again upon hearing Sir. He wasn’t into BDSM and all of that stuff, but he wouldn’t mind a woman bowing down and worshipping his cock. Actually, no. He wouldn’t mind if Bobbi did it. That made the difference.

  Quinn put his hands on Bobbi’s hips and bit back a groan. Images of getting her into the doggystyle position flooded his brain and he had to quickly remember who he was, and where they were. “Arch your hips like so,” he gently nudged her and she followed.

  He leaned over her and felt a twitch in his jeans. Her hair smelled like strawberries. Her skin was soft, supple, and smelled like vanilla. Her body fit perfectly into his and all Quinn wanted to do was to eat her…

  …food. He replaced the nasty thoughts with Bobbi’s chicken wings. They did look delicious.

  “Now raise your head so you’re looking over the table, not directly at it.” His deep voice purred in her ears. “Now shoot.”

  Bobbi had a bit of trouble focusing with Quinn practically on top of her. His muscular body felt perfect against hers. The soft roughness of his beard tickled her cheek and that musky scent of cologne made her realize she was dealing with a grown-ass man and not a little boy.

  So, she could forgive him for having horrible taste in music for loving the Backstreet Boys when NSYNC was clearly superior. All she wanted was him on top of her in every which way, sliding in and out of every hole in her body.

  Her pussy quivered with want and Bobbi didn’t know why this man had her sprung. She wanted to have some twisted, fucked up sex that was illegal in all 50 states with that man.

  “Bobbi?”

  “Huh?” She blinked the images out of her head. “What?”

  “Practice shooting now.” He mentioned.

  “Oh, yeah.” She narrowed her eyes and shot. Not only did she make it, but it was also easier for her. “I like that.”

  “It’s all in the hips,” Quinn pried himself off Bobbi before he couldn’t. “Once you get that down, you’ll be unstoppable in every pool hall across the world.”

  “Giving me pool shark tips?” She stood up and smiled at him.

  Bobbi’s smile made her even more gorgeous. It traveled up to her eyes, making them sparkle and he suddenly felt like a giddy child in a candy store.

  Quinn slightly shook his head and wondered what was his luck. A gorgeous woman who wouldn’t give her last name and barely mentioned a generic occupation – physical therapist – and he probably wouldn’t see her again.

  No woman would be that understanding about dating a baseball player, no matter how much she pretends to love the sport. “Of course.” He grinned.

  Four

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Oh, I’m taking an Uber home.” Bobbi replied as they walked out of the bar. It was late into the night but the night still felt young. She and Quinn were stuck by each other’s side the entire time and Bobbi never laughed so hard in her life.

  She was in between things with Scotland and she knew exactly what their relationship was, if she could call it that. He gave her attention when she needed it, and that was good enough.

  Well, it was. Quinn reminded Bobbi how much she loved one-o
n-one attention. “I’m not that far away from here. I’m just on Strand, I think.”

  “Strand, you think?” Quinn’s eyebrows rose. He was all for giving fake addresses but he was pretty sure Bobbi didn’t live where she said she was. “You have a house there?”

  “My sister and brother-in-law do. That’s who I’m staying with for the night.” She covered. “So, I’m going to go home to them.”

  “Are you on curfew?” Quinn asked. “I mean, the night is still young.”

  It was already past one o’clock. Bobbi had to report to the Dodgers at eleven. She didn’t have to go home right away, but she wasn’t quite sure what Quinn was up to. “What did you have in mind?”

  “A walk on the beach,” Quinn glanced over at the beach and Bobbi followed. “It’s nice out. There are people on the beach so you don’t have to be worried about anything.”

  Bobbi looked around and saw how the street was still crowded with people, even late into the night. It seemed the party just started for quite a few. She smiled as she faintly remembered those days. They were mostly a drunken blur but it was still fun times from what she could remember.

  “I’m game,” Bobbi began walking with Quinn and they headed toward a public area with lots of people around. She knew it was Quinn’s intention and she was grateful for it. “You never did tell me what you did for a living other than being in athletics.”

  Quinn thought about how honest he wanted to be with Bobbi. If he told her the truth, it wouldn’t guarantee anything other than a headache. If he wasn’t honest with her, the same result might occur.

  Who knew being a celebrity was a headache? “I work for the MLB.” There. Not quite the truth but not a lie, neither.

  Bobbi’s eyes widened before they settled back down. What were the odds? “That’s cool. What do you do?”

  “Training.” It wasn’t a lie. He was going to start training very soon.

  “Physical training? Conditioning?” She pressed.

  “All of the above.” Quinn replied. “Not quite what you do as being a physical therapist but somewhere along those lines.”

  “I see.” Bobbi nodded. They stopped on the boardwalk and glanced out into the darkness. She breathed in the ocean air and felt her shoulders drop. All of the stress of moving down to L.A. and being in an “It’s Complicated” Facebook status with a man she barely sees and converses with took a toll on her spirit.

  Maybe she just needed to get drunk and be happy one good time before she had to grow up and stop being a Toys R’ Us kid. “Are you happy at your job?”

  “I am,” Quinn leaned forward against the wood paneling. “It pays very well and I love my teamma---coworkers.” He covered. “I can’t complain. I have the almost perfect life.”

  “Almost perfect, huh?” Bobbi turned around and leaned against the panel as Quinn stood up. “Why almost?”

  Quinn stared into Bobbi’s eyes and noticed the amber within them. They sparkled when the light was just right. “Because I haven’t found the one to share it with.”

  Quinn was smooth, Bobbi silently admitted. She could already hear the faint singing of Beyoncé’s and Frank Ocean’s “Superpower” as she looked into his eyes. She wondered how many other stupid women had the same effect. “I’m sure you’ve said that before.”

  “Not really,” Quinn stated, matter-of-factly. “I don’t have a plethora of lines I use on every woman and see which one fits.”

  “I’m surprised,” Bobbi replied. She wasn’t joking; Quinn seemed like the type that probably had hoes in different area codes.

  “You just found out a few hours ago how much I love the Backstreet Boys and you’re surprised I don’t have pick-up lines?” His blue eyes sparkled.

  “Because I’m still in shock that you like such a horrible group.” Bobbi teased and Quinn chuckled. “Nah, they’re okay. I mean, they had a couple of good songs.”

  Quinn leaned against the railing. “You have the Millennium album, don’t you?”

  “I just said that they had a couple of good songs.” Bobbi held her ground. “That is all.”

  “I like “The Two of Us.”” Quinn closed the distance between him and Bobbi. “Too bad two-step garage never caught on.”

  “Yeah,” Bobbi felt her heart pound as she inhaled the faint smell of Quinn’s cinnamon gum. “Too bad.”

  Quinn leaned in for a kiss and Bobbi didn’t fight it. Instead, she welcomed his full lips as if they were made for her. She lost her fingers within his hair and pulled him in closer. Their tongues tangled and she moaned in his mouth.

  Holy sh…Bobbi never felt anything like that before. She’d been kissed by some sloppy men. Men who had no idea what they were doing. Men who wanted to play tonsil hockey instead of savoring her.

  Quinn, however, knew her mouth. He knew her tongue. He rose to her challenge and dared her to continue. The softness of his lips with the velvety roughness of Quinn’s tongue made Bobbi crave him.

  She was floating higher and higher. He kissed her deeper, leading the charge, and Bobbi anxiously followed to where he took her. She caressed his muscular chest, ran her hands through his thick, brown hair, and moaned into his mouth.

  Her body tightly wound up with each kiss. Quinn seemingly knew what to do. Every response she gave, he had an answer for. Everything she threw at him, he threw it right back and dared her for more.

  He stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue and groaned his pleasure in response. Her moans made him hard as stone, yet Quinn kept his composure. He wanted to lose control, but he had to keep it.

  He didn’t want to scare Bobbi away, yet he wasn’t sure why he cared so much. Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the bad date he had and how she blew up his spot. Now, he wanted her to quench the scorching heat he had inside of him.

  Who was that mysterious woman? And why did she turn his world upside down in just a few hours?

  “Quinn…” she breathed as he moved down to her neck. He lightly sucked on her neck and Bobbi gasped in response. She pulled him closer to her and felt his heart pound against her chest. Blood rushed in her ears and Bobbi couldn’t think straight.

  Quinn’s mouth traveled up to Bobbi’s ear and he nibbled on it as their bodies ground against each other’s. His cock pressed into the vee of her sex and he slowly pulled away. “I want you to come home with me.”

  Never let your abductor take you to the second location was Bobbi’s thought. “I don’t know where you live. And I’m not sure if me going home with you is a good idea.”

  “I don’t think me going home with you is a good idea, neither.” Quinn referenced her living situation.

  “Is…” Bobbi hesitated on what she was about to suggest. “…is there a hotel we can go to?”

  Quinn looked into Bobbi’s deep brown eyes. Her eyes said yes, her body clearly said yes, but he wanted to be sure. “We can go to one of my friend’s house. He’s not there and he won’t mind. He lives just around the corner.”

  Bobbi was responsible. She barely drank, didn’t smoke, and didn’t partake in any bad habits. Now Quinn was making her break every rule she’d ever known. All she knew was she wanted him inside her as much as possible, even if it was just for one night. “Let’s go.”

  Five

  Whoever Quinn was, it was clear he had money.

  It wasn’t that she thought he was broke as he paid for all of the food and drinks the entire night, rounding the bill over a hundred dollars. But it was clear he wasn’t broke. He could’ve been flexing for her, but somehow Bobbi didn’t see that in him.

  As “Weekend” by Mac Miller played in the speakers, Bobbi wondered about how she ended up where she was. Growing up in liberal Berkeley, Bobbi wanted a taste for the world that wasn’t all about the environment and protesting every cause.

  Upon graduating from high school, she went to Howard University and majored in kinesiology. Her father, Aaron, was a cardiologist, and active in his community. Their mother, Kendra, was a school teacher.


  While Sarah did the party girl route and eventually settled on working at Macy’s, Bobbi knew she wanted to do more with her life. One day she followed her father into his private practice where he checked on his patients but also provided physical therapy for them as they recovered.

  Maybe it was a click. Maybe it was the universal telling her something. Bobbi knew she wanted to help people in a way that hadn’t been done before.

  She chose the crazy idea of double majoring in psychology and physiology, graduated with top honors, and worked magic for the Atlanta Braves before she took a position with the Dodgers.

  Now she was in some dude’s car, not knowing where the hell they were going, didn’t know who the hell he was, but she did know was she wanted him on top of her.

  As Bobbi settled into the sleek Tesla, she wondered if what she was doing was an 11 on the one through ten stupidity scale. Sure, she’d done some pretty stupid things like flashing an entire police unit for beads during Mardi Gras. She knew the reason she wasn’t arrested because she had a nice rack.

  And then there was the time she channeled her inner “10 Things I Hate About You” moment when she danced on top of a table to “Mamba No. 5.” At least it was before social media, so there’s only memories and not actual footage.

  But going away with some stranger she’d only known for a few hours and into a house she’d never been in? That was a new level of stupid.

  Bobbi chalked it up her body needed it more than her sanity did. She hadn’t sex in a timeframe that was too long to think about and too embarrassing to admit. And with Scotland not returning her phone calls or texts, it was clear he was occupied with something (or someone) else.

  “Hey…” Quinn reached over and grabbed Bobbi’s hand. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”

  His lips were soft and gentle, with a touch of care Bobbi had never known. “Oh no, I want to do this.” She chuckled and he followed. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”