Royal Flush

by Ella Goode

  He does have a dimple but it is one hundred percent normal. I don't find it sexy nor does it make me blurt out random things.

  “Sweet girl, you better give me something.” I look over at my mom, who is about to come undone at the seams.

  “I like him.”

  “Well duh, he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.”

  My cheeks heat. The kissing isn’t what has me blushing; it’s the fact that my mom witnessed it. She is never going to let up about Owen now. I am also never going to be able to convince her that he and I are only friends but I sure as hell am going to try.

  “We’re just friends,” I rush to say.

  “I don’t kiss any of my friends,” she says smugly as she pulls out of the school parking lot. She’s not fooled in the least.

  “He keeps calling himself my boyfriend,” I give in, telling my mom. I don’t know why I was fighting it. I tell her pretty much everything. “He makes me laugh,” I add, biting my lip.

  Mom peeks over at me. “He seems sweet. I just want you to remember—"

  “I know, Mom.” I look out the window. Mom and I are close and have had the sex talk multiple times. She even put me on the pill when I turned seventeen, saying I might not be having sex but one day I would be and this was so I was prepared.

  “I know you do, darling girl, but I’m your mom and I have to remind you.” She pats my leg so I look back over to her. “You can come to me for anything.”

  “I know.” I lean over and kiss her cheek.

  “Now tell me everything.”

  I give her a rundown of my day. I skip the dick-punching and how hot and heavy my makeout session was with Owen. Some things are better left alone. I don’t want her worrying over an asshole like JJ, who I hadn’t seen since that class.

  “Melody sounds…” Mom searches for a word.

  “Different,” I supply. “A hip kind of different though. I think I’m going to like her.” I hope I do. I’m going to be paired up with her for the rest of the semester. She’s different and I can’t get a read on her. For some reason I enjoy that. Most of the kids at my old school were cut from the same cloth so meeting new people who are interesting is a good thing.

  “You should invite her or Owen over for dinner on Friday. Both if you want.” Mom sounds super excited about this. It’s then I remember Owen asked me to a party. Well, he kind of asked me. He invited me on my calendar but I haven’t clicked it yet.

  “Owen will have a game.”

  “Oh, so you’re going?”

  “Yeah, I think I am.” Owen didn’t ask me to but I want to see him play. I’m not so sure about the party but if he wants to do that I guess I could. We might end up making out in the car. I really like the sound of that.

  “Your dad is going to be so excited,” Mom says as she pulls into the garage. When I get out Dad is already opening the door to the garage. He kisses Mom first before giving me a hug.

  “How was your first day, sweetheart?” He kisses me on top of the head.

  “Good.” I hug him back.

  “So I—"

  “I have no idea what college he’s going to,” I answer before Dad can ask, making him let out a small laugh.

  “She’s going to his game on Friday though,” my mom adds in for me.

  “He’s a good kid I hear.” Of course Dad asked around. I knew he would if Mom told him about Owen this morning. It’s hard to think of Owen as a kid. He’s bigger than my dad. When I first saw him I was sure he was in college.

  “He’s funny,” I repeat.

  “Yeah, super funny,” Mom teases me. I roll my eyes while Dad fights a laugh. I grab a banana off the kitchen counter. “I’m going to shower.”

  “You need more than a banana.” Mom tries to stop me from leaving.

  “Let me change and it’s late.” I give her a kiss on the cheek and then Dad. What I really want to do is text Owen. I put my phone into my bag and now I am itching to see if he texted me. I might have a problem. I’ve been away from him for ten minutes and I’m already wanting to talk to him again.

  I head upstairs. I make myself shower and change before I finally give in and grab my phone. My heart gives a happy flutter when I see that Owen texted me. Not only once but twice.

  BF: Ace, thought you were going to text me when you got home?

  BF: Give a man a break here. One text isn't going to kill you. It will kill me.

  I fire back a quick response.

  Me: I was in the shower. Sorry.

  I could have told him I was in bed or talking to my parents but I wanted him to know I was in the shower. My body still buzzes from our makeout session.

  BF: You cannot tell me shit like that.

  I don’t have to fight a smile this time. We aren’t face to face for him to read every detail of what I am thinking. I’m pretty sure I show everything on my face like Mom does.

  Me: Want to tell me why your number is labeled as BF?

  I tease. He must have done it when he took my phone to do the calendar exchange and put his number in.

  BF: Best friends?

  Me: If you say so.

  I don’t know what possesses me but I change his name, coming to terms with what this is. It’s not like he’s going to know. Why can’t I date him? He is sweet and funny and I don't know why the other girls at school are talking about staying away from the football players. I don’t think I could stay away from Owen if I tried. I’m pretty sure I did try and failed.

  Boyfriend: While we’re on the topic of doing things to not kill each other, let's not talk about you having sex with other men. Even if it’s just you messing with me. I mentally kicked about twenty dudes’ asses in my head.

  Once again I laugh. I shouldn't enjoy his streak of jealousy but I do. Probably because I saw how some of the girls were looking at him today. I can't fault them. He does have a magical dimple.

  Me: I think I can do that.

  Boyfriend: Thanks Ace, get some R&R and eat something. I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early.

  Me: Sweet dreams

  I lie down on my bed. I’ve always been a homebody but right now I don't want to be at home. I want to be with Owen. I could lie and read a book while he plays with my hair and watches a football game. I groan when I realize I just said the same shit my parents do on Sundays. It’s weird how you don’t know you want something until it’s there at the tips of your fingers. Have I been lying to myself? No, I just don’t think I’ve met someone like Owen before now.

  Boyfriend: That’s all they’ve been since I first saw you.

  I drop my phone down, rolling over to my side. Yeah, no way Owen is in the friend zone. Now I am the one wanting to stake my claim.

  Me: Night, Boyfriend.

  I send it with a winky face before putting my phone onto the charger. I don’t let myself check his response. I’m enjoying the excitement of it. I’ll have to wait until morning. Unlike today, I am really looking forward to school tomorrow.

  Chapter Twelve

  Owen

  “What do you want to make next? A stuffed animal or a wallet?” Ace asks as she ties another knot in the fleece blankets we are making for the children’s center of her dad’s hospital.

  “Neither. They both sound complicated as fuck.” It’s been three weeks of sewing classes and while everyone else in the class is rocking it, I’m still struggling with threading the needle. I don’t understand why the eye has to be so fucking small. What is the point of that? The machine needles aren’t that small and, as a bonus, the machine needles have a threader built in. “Whatever we can make on the sewing machine. No more handstitching.”

  “They all require handstitching.”

  Ace’s fingers are like a miracle. I actually enjoy watching her sew. She practices something called embroidery at home where she creates pictures and shit with thread. It’s pretty damn cool. My hands are awesome at catching things, but not so deft at creating things. Ace, on the other hand, is a magician. She says she
practices stitching for surgery. Being fast can be important if people are bleeding or leaking or whatever it is she has to stop by sewing flesh and ligaments and tissue together. Her fingers fly over the material, needle flashing, thread whipping in and out of sight. It’s soothing, like watching Youtube videos where they whisper. That kind of soothing. I could lie on the sofa for hours and just watch her work.

  Unfortunately, she’s not letting me do that. Under the watchful eye of her mother, who is baking brownies in the kitchen just one center island away from us, Ace and I are assembling fleece blankets made by cutting tabs into the sides of the fabric and then tying those tabs together.

  “You know, I could use one of these. They’re soft as hell.” I rub the fleece against my face and imagine tangling up under one of these babies with a naked Ace.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she says, nudging me under the table with her foot and throwing a glance over my shoulder to her mom.

  “Like what?” I ask, all innocent.

  Ace kicks me again, but this time I catch her foot and slip my finger along the hollow behind her ankle bone. She scrapes her teeth along her lower lip and I nearly bust a nut in my jeans. I set her foot down. “You win,” I whisper. I’ve got no defense against her. Just her breathing is sexy but whenever she does something with her lips, I’m toast. Done for. Just put me in the coffin and throw me in the pre-dug hole.

  I’m trying to take it slow. I want it to be right for her, not some half-assed rush job in her car or mine after a football game. I want a mattress, some fucking scented candles, music, and whatever else shit we need to make it memorable. I probably don’t even need a mattress—just a door and a flat surface, but during the football season, it’s tough to get that private time. I’ve got practice and when I’m not practicing, I’m studying because despite its name, FU High is hard as fuck. I may have taken one too many honors courses, but I can’t regret it because if I hadn’t taken them, I would probably have zero classes with my girl. Those upper level courses are all she’s taking because she’s amazing and brilliant. But she’s also busy studying, not just for the classes she’s taking but for college entrance exams and stuff.

  We hang out all the time together, but her mom is around a lot. We could ditch her and study at the library or go to a party on the weekends, but there really isn’t any horizontal place in the library. If it wasn’t our first time, maybe I could push her up against the metal bookcases, flip up her skirt and take her quick and hard while she bit into her hand to keep from making a noise louder than a whisper. If we’d been sleeping together for a while, the idea of sneaking to the back of someone’s house, kneeling in the damp grass, and shoving my tongue between her legs while she leans against the siding would be a plan I’d be in favor of. But we haven’t been sleeping together for a while. Not even once.

  I want to, desperately, but she doesn’t seem ready. If she was, she wouldn’t keep inviting me over to her house and plopping down five feet from her mom. It’s not to say that Mrs. Alistair isn’t cool. She is. She’s a bomb-ass cook, smiles nicely to me every time I show up on her doorstep, and doesn’t complain about all the food I tend to eat while I’m here.

  But she’s always lurking around and the most that I’ve been able to do with her watching Ace and me like a hawk is to rub Ace’s ankles under the table. I have learned she’s sensitive there which is good intel, but I could’ve learned that in her bedroom, with her door closed and her clothes off.

  As I make quick work of my side of the blanket, it occurs to me that I’ve been treating this situation a little like a football game. Since I’m a wide receiver, I’ve got to wait for the ball to be thrown to me. I can’t take the ball from the center and make my own plays. Having a decent quarterback can mean the difference between a wide receiver going to a top tier school or not getting a scholarship at all.

  But life isn’t a football game. I stand up. “You done?”

  Ace blinks in surprise. “Um, almost, why?”

  “Because we’re going out for some food.”

  “But I have to study.”

  “Bring your books.” I turn to Mrs. Alistair. “I’m taking Ace to my house after we pick up some food. We’ll be home late.”

  Her eyes widen. Ace makes a small sound behind me. Protest? Surprise? I’m not sure. Mrs. Alistair inspects me for a long, uncomfortable moment, but, in the end, she nods. “I hope you’ll use a condom.”

  “Mom! We’re not having sex.”

  Mrs. Alistair merely shrugs. “I’m just saying, use protection.”

  I grab Ace’s hand. “We won’t be having sex until Ace is ready.” But there’s a lot of shit we can do that doesn’t involve my dick in her sweet pussy. Lots.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alice

  My knee bounces, my heart still racing from what my mom said. I can’t believe she blurted that out. Okay, that’s a lie; it’s not completely shocking. Owen’s hand comes down on my knee.

  “Ace?”

  I fidget in my seat. I glance over at him. His gaze meets mine for a moment before it goes back to the road.

  “I’m not hungry.” I lick my lips. “Not for food.”

  “Trust me, I’m going to be eating you.” My legs clench together. The small throb that hit the second we got into his car is growing more intense. The anticipation of what’s to come has my body wound so tight. His words have me both excited and nervous at the same time. Knowing that he’s a virgin also stops the thoughts of self-doubt from creeping in. We are both in the same boat as far as experience, which makes it an even playing field between us. I know that whatever we decide to do tonight will be good for the both of us regardless of how far we take it. There is no doubt in my mind that Owen will make everything special for me. I glance back over at him and take in his profile. Thoughts of his hands touching me everywhere while his mouth consumes me has me growing more impatient by the second.

  “Drive faster.”

  “Fast as I can, Ace.”

  My eyes go to the speedometer and see he’s doing exactly the speed limit. I overheard my dad talking to Owen about driving with care when I was in the car. I thought it was sweet until now. He is really doing what my dad told him and I am going to come out of my skin. It did warm my heart that he respected my dad enough to do as he asked. It said a lot about Owen. I found it endearing that although my dad wouldn’t know if he sped or not, Owen still chose to follow the simple request.

  These past few weeks have been intense. I’ve been riding the edge of how far I should take things with Owen. I knew we’d be going all the way but I want to savor all of the moments until then. Each touch lingers a little longer while going a little further. It’s been a tease. It was the sweetest torture. I keep waiting for Owen to take the next step but he never pushes. His control is finally breaking.

  My breathing is becoming unsteady with every mile that passes. Our destination is not coming soon enough. Each time I look over at Owen it gets worse. I peer out my window to keep from getting worked up any further. Trying to distract my mind from its dirty thoughts, I watch the land pass by for a while. My eyes drift closed in hopes that it will pass the time. I’m jostled from my inner thoughts when I feel the car being pulled over on the side of the road.

  “Fuck, I need a small taste, Ace. I’m not going to make it home without it.” His hand unbuckles my seatbelt and he pulls me toward him. His mouth comes down on mine. Our kiss is desperate, both of us trying to consume the other. I moan into his mouth, trying to get as close to him as possible. I break the kiss and climb over the console so that I’m seated on his lap.

  “Ace.” My name comes out pained. His hands come up, locking around my face as he pulls me back to his. Our mouths make love. It’s raw and sweet mixed with so much need I think I’m going to come undone. I want to get back in my seat so we can get back to his place but I also don’t want to pull apart. I whimper into his mouth, not sure what to do.

  “I got you,” he tells me. Hi
s hands drop from my face, one going to my hip as his other slips into my pants. His hand is on my hip, taking a firm hold of me. I know I am pressed into his hard-on. I didn’t realize that I was rocking my hips back and forth trying to find my release on it. Desperate for some relief, I am unashamed in my movements. All of my inhibitions have been tossed out of this car window.

  His fingers slide through the lips of my sex. The only sound in the car is our heavy breathing. Owen’s fingers find my clit and he sucks in a deep breath. I know I’m not just wet. I’m soaked through my panties. I am used to it, being around Owen, but this is more than ever. I would be shy about it but Owen closes his eyes and I know he’s trying to get it together. His hardness under me gives a jerk. Yeah, all of him is enjoying how wet I’ve grown. I don’t know if it’s normal to get this wet but I don’t care.

  “Owen.” That’s the only word I can manage to get out. My mind and body are only focused on one thing. I need him to give it to me. Those dark brown eyes spring open as his fingers move faster over my clit, giving my body exactly what it needs.

  ”Give it to me, Ace. Let that sweet pussy come on my hand.”

  With those words, my body begins to tremble for him. The pleasure rolling through me from head to toe is overtaking everything. My mind goes blank as I let the feeling take me. There are no words to describe it. I’m lost in the sensation. I’m lost in him. As he holds me close to him, his fingers move to get every last bit of pleasure out of the orgasm.

  I lay with my head buried in his chest, my nose brushing back and forth, breathing him in. I often find myself doing that. Trying to steal another breath of him. He relaxes not only me but my mind.