The Clinch

by Nicole Disney

  “Yeah?”

  “All the time.”

  “What do you think?” she asks.

  “It’s like time with you is all that counts, and the rest is just waiting to be with you again. And ever since you kissed me…”

  She looks into my eyes, leaning into me. “Yeah?”

  “I can’t stop thinking of the way you touched me.”

  Her hand moves to my lower back and holds me close while her other hand moves up my neck, her fingers in my hair, and she balls her hand into a fist at the base of my head.

  “Like this?” she whispers.

  “Yes.”

  “What else?”

  “How you make me feel like I’m going to come without even taking my clothes off.”

  She moans softly in my ear as she moves against me like we’re fucking slow, the way that makes your whole body weak.

  “Tell me more, baby,” she whispers.

  “I want to feel you inside me. And I want to fuck you until you can’t move. I want to hear you come over and over again until the sun comes up.”

  “Fuck, Eden,” she whispers, breathless in my ear.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  She looks into my eyes hard before she finally nods and kisses me, then opens the door and leads the way back into the roaring main room. Théo spots us immediately and fills me with dread. I’m definitely flushed, but I trust he’ll assume it’s the alcohol. I just don’t want to get tangled up with him and the others and lose the night. Brooklyn flashes a peace sign at him to indicate we’re leaving, but he jogs over.

  “What happened to you two?” he asks, but there’s no suspicion. He’s smiling ear to ear.

  “Getting air. Bathroom. Bar.”

  I try not to laugh as she names off everything she can think of rather than choose something.

  “Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

  “Got to, brother,” Brooklyn says. “Fight is catching up to me. I guess she did hit me once or twice after all.”

  “Ah, shit. Okay, sis. You’ll take care of her, Coach?” He looks to me and takes me totally off guard.

  “Of course,” I say. He pulls me into a tight hug. I’ve never been ashamed to be gay, but something about this gives me a small twinge of guilt. As soon as he lets go, we bolt for the car before someone else can spot us. The valet brings the Maserati around and we hop inside.

  “You okay to drive?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I danced it all out. I wasn’t that drunk to begin with.” That means she did all this sober. I try not to give that more power than I should. She zips out of the bay. Once we’re on the main road she opens it up, pushing seventy in seconds. The warm night air rushes through my hair and pushes against me like a hug from the beyond.

  We drop the car off in front of the hotel and head upstairs. When we’re walking down our hall I notice she keeps checking over her shoulder, but I just smile to myself.

  “Whose room?” I ask.

  “Shh.”

  “They’re at the club, Brooklyn. No one’s here.” I laugh.

  “There’s always someone listening.”

  I take out my room key and wave it at her with a question on my face. She nods and walks a bit farther down the hall like she’s not with me while I open the door. Once I’m inside, I wave her over with fake exasperation. She looks down the hall again before she comes over. I teasingly stand in her way to delay her, but she just bear hugs me around my waist, picks me up, and carries me inside.

  “Fuckin’ rebel, huh?”

  “You do know it wouldn’t be that weird to be caught in your coach’s room after a fight, right? If only you had an ounce of cool in you,” I say, still in the air in her arms.

  “No amount of cool is going to explain the sounds I’m about to pull out of you, troublemaker.”

  “I see.” I lean down and kiss her softly, feeling her strong arms holding me effortlessly. Being alone in a real room slows us down from the hunger of the club or the gym. Maybe because we know this can really happen now, that it’s not just a stolen moment. She carries me farther into the room until she can set me on the bed, following me down as she lowers me to my back. I pull her tank top over her head and toss it on the floor, desperate for the feel of her hot skin. She lowers onto me, pulling my shirt off too and pushing her hips between my legs. She moves in a fluid rhythm, grinding into me in a motion that’s already edging me toward orgasm. No one has ever made me feel so much so fast. She’s all-encompassing, somehow touching me everywhere at once.

  I kiss her neck as she grinds and move my hands up her smooth back. A simple gold cross hangs from her neck. I take in the overpoweringly sexy image of Brooklyn on top of me in a black lace bra. I reach down her stomach and unbutton her shorts, then slip my hand inside. She takes a sharp inhale as my fingers trail down, tracing lightly over her underwear. I slip my hand under the fabric and slowly move down, shuddering from the rush of feeling how wet she is. I slowly stroke her opening, waiting to fuck her even though she’s ready now. She’s holding herself up on her forearms on either side of my face, close enough I can feel them tremble when I touch her, close enough I gently bite and pull the flesh of her shoulder.

  She kisses me hard and desperate, slipping her hand under my bra and squeezing my nipple. The shot of pleasure sends me arching off the bed into her hard body over me. She squeezes again, and I hook my free arm around the back of her neck, holding her close as I press harder against her opening with the pads of my fingers without actually fucking her just yet. Her strength dissolves on top of me.

  “Fuck, Eden.”

  She sits up to straddle me. I sit up too, chasing her intoxicating kiss. Her hips roll against me, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I unclasp her bra with my free hand, and she tosses it aside. Her breasts are fairly small but full and firm and completely breathtaking. She leans down to my ear.

  “I want to see you,” she whispers. I smile and reluctantly remove my hand so she can take off my bra and throw it on the floor. My mouth goes dry and my heart beats like a cannon as I watch her look at me, her eyes swimming with want. “God, you’re so beautiful.” She cups my breasts, squeezing both of my nipples as she kisses me, pulling a moan from deep in my chest.

  “Get rid of these too,” I whisper as I pull at her shorts, and she moves so I can yank them off, taking her underwear with them. She straddles me again, this time naked, and I might have forgotten how to breathe the way it keeps coming in ragged gasps.

  I can feel her wetness as she rolls her hips against me, and my thoughts are all a haze of heat. I grab her hip with my left hand, soaking in the rhythm of how she wants to be fucked, and slide my fingers into her in a slow but firm motion that breaks her cadence as her eyes close and she exposes her neck to look skyward. I pull my fingers almost all the way out, then plunge deeper, and she moans loud and bites her lip as she moves her hips to meet the thrust.

  She holds me tight against her chest, her fingers in my hair as she rides me. I match her rhythm, going deeper as she rides harder. I take her nipple carefully in my mouth, sucking and teasing it with my tongue. She lets her head fall back as her body rolls and bucks against me, arching and pulling and scratching. She grabs a fistful of my hair and thrusts her hips into me.

  “Eden,” she moans, clinging on to me for release. I crush her against me with my free arm and fuck her in hard, deep thrusts as she comes undone in my arms until her entire body tenses and she rolls against me in big, slow motions as she cries out in orgasm. She grips me hard, her fist in my hair yanking my head back and her fingers grasping my shoulder until, finally, the tension releases, and she melts.

  I roll her onto her back and kiss down her stomach, enveloping her pulsing clit in a hot kiss. She gasps, but her hips rise into me and she gathers my hair, pulling me against her. She asks for a lot of pressure, fucking my face slow at first but quickly building until another orgasm rips through her, loud and hard and long.

  I’m prepared to keep going, b
ut she pulls me up next to her. She looks almost confused or lost as she looks deep into my eyes. She kisses me slow, clinging on to me like I may disappear.

  Then her hands trail down and pull off the rest of my clothes slowly with a striking hunger in her intense gaze. We’re finally both naked, and just soak each other in. She’s perfectly proportioned, her waist long and trim but strong, a crevice between her ribs where her abs transform if she flexes, but right now she’s relaxed and soft. Her thighs are thick and powerful. She rolls me onto my side and shapes to my back.

  She gently pushes her hips into my ass, and I return the pressure. Her arm threads under mine to reach my breasts as she runs her teeth over my neck. She teases me until my body is on fire and I need to be touched so bad I’m about to roll back over and attack her, but just as I’m about to she rolls me the other way instead so I’m facedown. She kisses down my back between my shoulder blades and runs her fingers over the inside of my thighs.

  “Oh God,” I moan into the mattress. “Fuck me, Brooklyn.” I can feel her smiling behind me as she teases me. And finally, her fingers slip inside, pushing deep in a confident, careful thrust that fills me and shuts down my brain. It’s like the world disappears to be replaced with a new universe inside. Her hand weaves into my hair. Everything she’s doing feels so incredible I’d trust her to do anything she felt like.

  She thrusts deep and slow, hard and fast, light and teasing, and somehow no matter what she does it feels even better.

  “You know how long I’ve wanted you?” she whispers into my ear. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name.”

  “Hold me down.”

  She pins my wrist to the mattress and crushes her weight into my back so I can’t move and thrusts in a consistent, maddening rhythm that pushes me close to the edge with each motion.

  “Fuck, Brooklyn. Yes.” My fingers curl around hers. She clasps my hand while still crushing me down. My orgasm starts to build. I’m on the edge of coming for what feels like an hour, and then it crashes over me, ripping through me in blinding ecstasy.

  “Oh my God, Brooklyn.” My body tenses as it floods into every corner of me, taking over. When it finally subsides, it takes every speck of energy with it, and I wilt beneath her. She gently kisses the small of my back, tracing her fingers over my skin. I slowly roll over as she settles beside me. I breathe in the heat of her and touch the soft skin of her stomach, resting my head on her chest. I can’t fucking believe I’m in bed with her, but I should’ve known it would be earth-shattering.

  “Brooklyn.”

  She looks down, but I don’t even know what I wanted to say. All I know is I’ve never felt this, and it’s a little scary but incredible and I have no idea what to do with any of it. She cups my face and looks into my eyes.

  “I know. Me too.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The feel of Brooklyn disentangling from me stirs me to a hazy awareness, but it isn’t until I hear her getting dressed that I snap back to full consciousness. I look around the dark, unfamiliar room, disoriented, and spot her silhouette as she puts on her jacket.

  “What time is it?” I mutter in a cloud of exhaustion.

  “Four thirty,” she says and comes to my side. She sits on the edge of the bed and kisses my head.

  “Why the hell are you awake?” It’s barely been an hour since we dozed off.

  “I should get back to my room before my brothers notice I’m not there,” she whispers. “They’re going to come to my room when they’re up.”

  I rub my eyes and force them to focus on her face. “None of your family knows you’re gay, do they?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Not even Théo?”

  “No, God no.” She sounds horrified.

  “They’ve never questioned you about it? Hinted? Nothing?”

  Brooklyn smirks. “No, they would be shocked. I know you find that hard to believe.”

  “I really do. Are they living under a rock?”

  “What’re you trying to say?” She pretends to be offended. “You think I look like a dude?”

  “God no.” I run my hands up her sides and lean up to kiss her. “You just have all the vibes.”

  “They think I’m like that because I grew up with three brothers. And the fighting. My dad never treated me any different than the rest of them. As long as I can remember, the only thing that’s mattered has been winning and bringing glory to the family name. It just got more and more intense as my brothers let him down. I was never expected to date. It was never weird to them I didn’t bring dudes home or that I was rowdy like the guys.”

  “You are a rowdy bunch, aren’t you?” I drape my arm over her legs. My eyes have finally adjusted, and she looks like a goddess.

  “A little bit.” She pinches the air.

  “So, you’re born to be a rebel. What do they expect?”

  “Not that much of one. I’m my dad’s last hope.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nicolau is in prison. Leandro will never be respected no matter what he wins with all the steroid shit. Théo got hurt in his world title match and has never been the same. People act like we’re royalty, but the way my dad sees it, his children are letting the legacy fall apart. I’m it.”

  “That’s a lot to carry.”

  She nods but doesn’t look burdened. “It’s okay. I’ll come through. I’m going to win the belt and put it in his hands.”

  She came across so arrogant when I first saw her, but she doesn’t boast or conquer for herself, she does it to honor her family. Not so different from what got me started, honoring Jin.

  “But if people found out I’m a dyke…” She cringes. “Then none of it counts. Everything my dad has ever worked for is over. He’d never talk to me again.”

  “Oh, Brooklyn.” It cracks my heart in two that she has to walk through life with that over her head, that she’s so devoted to him but can’t trust him to feel the same. “Are you sure it would be that bad? Maybe they’d surprise you.” Her entire body tenses just at the mention of it. I rub my thumb over her taut forearm.

  “Yes,” she says. “Believe me, I’m sure, Eden. I’ve seen it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I told him I had a crush once. On a girl named Olivia. I think I was eleven.” She looks down, unwilling to meet my eyes, but I sit up a little, scooting closer with intense interest.

  “What did he do?”

  “He told me to take it back or he’d beat me bloody and never look at me again. I took it back. The next day he acted like nothing happened, except I wasn’t allowed to see or talk about Olivia ever again. Théo brought her up once years later. Dad didn’t remember her. Or he acted like he didn’t remember her. I don’t even know.”

  “Jesus.” I squeeze her leg. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m fine. I just need you to understand I know what I’m talking about with them. I don’t do shit like this because I can’t risk it. I shouldn’t even be here right now.” She starts talking faster, almost in a panic. “You can’t think you know better than me on this. If you did something, if you told, you could destroy me. You could blow my whole life up. You could ruin—”

  “Whoa, hey.” I sit up and pull her into a tight embrace, holding her against my chest hard. “Brooklyn, I would never do that to you. No matter what. Not if I thought it would help you. Not if you broke my heart. Not even if I wanted to hurt you. I will never out you against your will. I swear.”

  She slowly relaxes. “Thank you.” She squeezes my hand. “So, we’re okay?”

  Jesus, what a loaded question. I’ve never lived in the closet. Not giving a shit what your train wreck of a mom thinks gave me that one perk. I’m not thrilled with the images I’m getting of what closet life looks like, but I can do it for now. I don’t expect her to come out right this second. But then, is that even what she’s asking? Or is she asking me to pretend this never happened and go back to the way we were
once we get back to New York? To store this away as a sacred secret for the rest of my life? “I don’t really know what that means,” I say. “I’m not mad if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “But…”

  “I want to see you again, and I’m getting a little worried you’re saying that’s not possible.”

  “Believe me, I want to see you again too,” she says, hunger flooding her eyes.

  “Yeah?”

  “God, how can you not know?” She leans over and kisses me.

  “Then we’re okay,” I say as I kiss her back. The weight of even that much of a commitment already feels complicated. This isn’t sneaking around at a job you can afford to lose anyway. This is the big leagues, sneaking around with the public eye probing into our lives looking for exactly this type of story with Brooklyn’s family on the line. It doesn’t mean glancing over your shoulder now and then; it means constant vigilance, fear, and restriction. It means even Laila and Jin can’t know. It’s not the kind of thing I ever thought I’d subject myself to. Having my hands tied. Being a dirty secret. Being with someone who’s ashamed to be with me. That doesn’t feel like a fair way to put it with Brooklyn, but I’m afraid I’m spinning it for her, afraid I’m just another girl who knows exactly what she deserves until someone makes her knees weak.

  Then again, she’s only twenty-three, a fact that has been in the back of my mind despite not quite registering as a problem. We’re four years apart, which doesn’t mean much to me on most levels, but I can’t imagine Brooklyn won’t be living her life very differently in four years with or without me. Maybe there really is a valid exception to be made here.

  She kisses me again, soft and tender and hot. My head swirls, and God, who am I kidding? I’m not going anywhere. When we part, she smiles as she backs toward the door.

  “Good night, beautiful.”

  She opens the door carefully, cracking it open just enough to peek out, then disappears into the hall. An empty bed isn’t a rare thing for me, but stretching out on the king-size hotel mattress alone is a little hollow. The drapes are thick, but I can make out the glow of sunrise at the part between them. Our flight home isn’t until evening. I’ll be spending every second until then sinking into the dull ache in my body and dreaming of Brooklyn.