Indulgent Pleasures

He’d probably flip his lid if he found out she was a writer for a magazine. Especially the magazine who just did an unauthorized cover report on him. He’d probably flip even more if he knew she’d written an article with a sexual flavor and he was the anonymous star of it.

Stephanie closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. If Zoe found out she’d had sex with one of San Francisco’s favored golden boys, she’d go crazy. Most likely force Stephanie to write an article spelling out all of the sexual exploits they’d shared together.

Oh, God. No way could she ever see him again, not after this. It was a mess. A big one. She needed to forget Justin Hawkins even existed and move on from what she considered the best night of her life.

Seeing him would only cause more problems. And she didn’t need anymore problems. She already had enough.

* * *

Justin wondered if he could get arrested for loitering. For about the fiftieth time he noticed the twitch of a curtain in the window directly across from where his car was parked. Someone knew he was sitting around and they probably suspected him of stalking or worse, being a predator.

Seven days had passed since he had sex with Stephanie in the back of a rented Towncar. It was a night he couldn’t blot from his memory no matter how much he tried.

Her scent, the taste of her lips, her soft skin. The tight, hot clench of her pussy so snug around his cock as he thrust inside her. Just thinking about her at this very moment had him hard and ready.

He’d jacked off enough to thoughts of Stephanie, of reliving that night. He’d finally decided he was going to find her. Find her and convince her to see him again.

Shit, he wanted to laugh. Look at the big bad baseball player chasing after a woman. He never chased. He never had to. He could have any woman he wanted.

With the exception of a freckle faced

, lush lipped woman who haunted his dreams and was his every fantasy come to life.

Now he sat in the parking lot of her apartment complex waiting for her to come home. He had no clue where she worked or what she did but he’d talked to the sweet little old lady who walked her dog every two hours on the hour.

When he’d described Stephanie, she knew immediately who he was talking about and had told him she lived just below her and her roommate, as a matter of fact. She came home Monday through Friday around six-thirty.

Perfect. He’d take her to dinner, stare at her throughout the meal and plot what he’d do to her, then take her back to his place and do it all and then some.

He couldn’t freaking wait.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was almost six-thirty. His heart started to beat double time and he raked a hand through his hair. He was nervous. Nervous like he used to be right before he went to bat. Nervous when he was playing outfield and the opposing team had the bases loaded.

A nervous he never, ever felt in anticipation of a woman. Only in anticipation of the game.

A car pulled into the lot, an older model Toyota and he watched as it slipped into a parking space, the lights shutting off. He waited, anticipation making him lean forward against the steering wheel. It was nearly dark and the light posts above cast everything in an eerie orange glow.

And then she appeared, exiting her car gracefully. Her clothes were dark, her hair pulled back from her face and she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

How should he approach her? Run up to her and make himself known? Sneak up and tap her on the shoulder? He had no clue.

But he couldn’t let her go, not like this.

Justin climbed out of the car and slowly walked toward her, watching as she ambled up the sidewalk and headed toward a row of silver mailboxes nestled in an alcove. As he got closer, he could see she wore a black button-up shirt with a ruffled neckline and little white polka dots all over the fabric. A slim black skirt clung to her pretty ass, showcasing her endless legs and accentuating her curves. And dainty little heels that clicked on the concrete when she walked.

He wanted to salivate after her like a dog. Wanted to pick his tongue up off the floor and tell her how hot she looked.

Man, he had it bad, bad, bad.

Stephanie suddenly turned. She must’ve heard his footsteps and her eyes went as big as saucers, her mouth dropping open and forming a sexy little O.

“What are you doing here?”

Her accusing tone made him stop short. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

An aggravated sound escaped her and she shut the mailbox with extra force, the slam of the metal loud in the quiet night. “How did you find me?”

“Well I dropped you off here, remember?” This wasn’t going as he’d planned at all.