Rookie in Love

by Sarah White

  When we notice the bar is beginning to empty out, I feel horrible that he and I have been in the corner away from his friends all night, but I tell myself I only have three weeks with him, and they get to keep him forever. The bartender announces last call and the music is turned down a notch as a slow song begins and people start to gather their belongings.

  “Dance with me, rookie,” Jackson says as he grips my hand and pulls me from my seat.

  He doesn’t seem to mind that people are walking across the dance floor to leave the bar or that, one-by-one, the overhead lights are being shut off. Jackson takes the hand he’s been holding and places it over his heart, leaving his on top of mine. He wraps his other arm around my waist and pulls me tightly against him. We move in slow circles to the song and a few of his friends slap him on the back as they leave. He acknowledges them each time by lifting his chin but never takes his eyes off of me.

  As the song comes to an end, Jackson softly kisses my lips. “Maddy, I have never in my life felt as conflicted as I do now. I want you so bad it is taking every ounce of decency I have not to push you up against the closest wall and relieve the need inside me. At the same time, now that I know how new you are to all of this, I want to take it slowly, have you get the most out of every little step we take—every little touch.”

  I close my eyes and just breathe for a minute, wanting the same two things he does and not knowing which road we will take.

  The music has ended and we move toward the exit. He’s holding my hand but I’m pressed up against his side, needing him to touch me and not wanting him to let me go. When we are at his truck, he backs me up against its side and presses his body firmly against mine. A small moan escapes him as we come together again with lips and touches and a wild need I have never felt so strongly in my life. Jackson’s hands slip down beneath my butt and he lifts me to him so that my core presses against the fly of his pants, and I’m in awe of how good it feels and how natural it is, the way we fit together. Jackson releases his tight hold and I return my weight to my feet but immediately miss the friction. I raise my knee up instinctively so his body will rest inside mine and he runs his hand down the back of my leg, lifting it higher around him.

  “I need to feel you, Maddy, to see your body and feel your skin. We don’t have to go all the way but I have to get off first base. Baseball has never really been my sport.”

  I laugh and nod. “Well then, Mr. Quarterback, take me back to your place,” I say, as I straighten out my skirt.

  “Be careful what you ask for, rookie. In football, we don’t mess around with bases. We’re always gunning for a touchdown.”

  Chapter Seven

  This might be the longest five-minute car ride of my life. Jackson has his hand resting high on my thigh and he keeps looking at me every chance he gets. I’m so nervous that my heart is racing and I feel almost buzzed from the high of being with him. He’s gorgeous, with his dark hair framing his ruggedly handsome face, and his blue eyes standing out against his tanned skin.

  We pull up to a small fourplex on the back of Frat Row. Clearly his spot in the driveway is kept open for him, which is wonderful given that the street is overcrowded with cars, many pulled partway into driveways parked three deep. There are a few students walking home and I notice there has been some partying taking place here as a couple kicks one of many red plastic cups back and forth between them.

  I know better than to try to open my own door, so I wait for Jackson to make his way around the truck and open it for me. He reaches up for my hand and I hold his tightly and scoot myself to the edge of the seat. I think it might be impossible to exit this truck gracefully, wearing heels and a short skirt. As I think about where to put my legs so I minimize my exposure, Jackson smiles up at me.

  “What’s the problem, rookie?” he asks mischievously.

  “I’m just taking a minute to pray to God that my panty choice for this evening was a good one since you’re about to become acquainted with them real quick when I try to get down from here.”

  “Amen,” Jackson says enthusiastically, and I roll my eyes and then laugh as I conclude that indeed I am going to flash him. Our interactions are so playful and full of heat I can’t get too wrapped up in what I am supposed to say or how I might look. With Jackson, I’m the real me and it feels amazing.

  “Come on, rookie, nothing I haven’t seen before.” Jackson winks at me and I remember dangling from the trellis above him.

  I give up and let him wrap his hands around my waist and help me down.

  “See, I can be a gentleman,” Jackson says, his eyes never leaving mine as my legs flail about on the way down from the seat.

  He takes my hand again and we walk up a staircase to one of the upper apartments. There’s music playing inside and I feel nervous about seeing his friends, on top of being jittery about spending time with him. Jackson opens the door and we walk into a living room housing two mismatched couches, a broken coffee table and various posters of athletes and swimsuit models. There’s also a pretty impressive collection of beer caps nailed to the wall around the door.

  “Sorry about the mess, rookie. We’re all on the team and don’t have a lot of time to keep things tidy.” I recognize his two roommates from the bar and give them a small wave as Jackson pulls me past them. “Hey guys, you remember Maddy. Maddy—Trevor and Aaron.” We exchange mumbled hellos and I stumble behind Jackson as he pulls my hand relentlessly toward his room. “Good night, guys,” Jackson says over his shoulder as we approach his room.

  “Good night,” Aaron and Trevor say in unison, turning their attention back to the TV and their beers.

  The second we’re in Jackson’s room he closes the door and locks it behind us. It may seem childish, but I feel a thrill being locked in a room with him. I’ve never been allowed to have boys in my room or even be alone near a bed with one. My family would be having a fit if they knew where I was right now. Jackson closes the distance between us and lightly kisses my lips. His hands rest on the sides of my face and my body begins to heat up again with his touch.

  Slowly, Jackson guides us to the edge of his bed and I freeze when my calves touch his comforter. He breaks our kiss to look me in the eyes.

  “Relax, rookie. Tonight is just for you. We’ll stop whenever you want to, and only do the things you’re curious about. Slow and steady.” He kisses me again and I reach up and put my hands on his biceps. The muscles are tight beneath my palms and I can feel electricity travel up my arms and down into my core.

  Jackson moves his kisses down my neck and across my shoulder. I close my eyes at the sensation and pray that he keeps going. His hands are now at the hem of my tank top and his fingers are touching the soft skin just underneath. His rough skin making slow circles and inching up under the fabric. I feel so wanted and feminine, soft under his calloused touch. He grips the shirt and begins to pull it up my body slowly, waiting for me to stop him, but I don’t.

  When my shirt reaches the bottom of my bra, Jackson rubs his thumbs across the underside of my breasts. It’s an erotic feeling that makes me arch into his hands. He looks up from the kisses he’s scattering across my skin and waits for me to nod my approval for him to remove my shirt. I raise my arms and he pulls my shirt over my head, causing my hair to fall across my shoulders. At first Jackson doesn’t move; he just looks at my breasts, bare except for the delicate lacy cups of my bra. He studies me for a moment, and then places his hands gently on my breasts and leans in slowly to give me the softest of kisses.

  “What next, rookie? It’s your move.” So many things run through my head and I take a minute to just feel the sensation of his hands on my body. I want to see him, want to know where his tattoo leads. I put my hands on his waist, just above the top of his jeans and I hear his sharp intake of breath as I move my hands under his shirt. His body is warm and hard beneath my fingers. I slide my flat palms up his stomach, feeling the ripples of his abs as I make my way up to his chest. His shirt is gathering up my arms
and when I finally feel the muscles of his pecs beneath my palms, he reaches behind his back and brings his shirt over his head in one swift movement.

  It is my turn to look and I trail my finger back down over his chest and abs. I can see his tattoo now and it is an amazing piece of art that curls around his arm and stops just short of his neck. I kiss the place where his tattoo stops and then run my tongue up his neck and suck his earlobe into my warm mouth. Jackson pulls me close to him and I love the way it feels to have my bra being the only thing separating our chests. I kiss along his jawline, work my way back to his mouth, and suck in his bottom lip. When I release it, Jackson’s tongue meets mine and while it feels out of control, the pace he sets is steady and gentle. He drifts his hands up my back, releasing the clasp of my bra so quickly I almost miss it. His fingers coast under its straps and he pulls back to watch as my bra falls smoothly down my arms and drops to the floor.

  I’m exposed to a man for the first time, but it doesn’t feel naughty like I thought it would. It feels invigorating. My libido has roared to life and the surge of need it has brought with it causes a high I can’t even explain. Jackson caresses my naked breasts and I begin to ache with the need for him to touch me all over.

  “So beautiful. You’re unbelievable, Maddy.” His tongue travels from my ear down my neck and I arch into him as he drops lower, grazing my nipple before he sucks it into his mouth. The ache is building and I am beginning to feel desperate for friction. I wonder if he’s feeling the same way, or if this is something he has done so many times it doesn’t affect him anymore. When my nipple is erect and warm from his tongue, he moves to my other breast, and I run my fingers through his hair as he takes it into his mouth. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, Jackson releases me and teases, in between kisses. “Your move.”

  “Jackson, it all feels so good. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you.” My hands are on his chest and our kisses are deep and anxious now.

  Jackson takes my hand in his and glides it down his body. As our hands travel lower and lower my heartbeat begins to race again. Guiding my hand, Jackson cups his hard length through his jeans and I understand he is showing me that I am having the same effect on him as he is on me.

  “I think you had me past desperate about ten minutes ago, rookie.” His hand leaves mine to return to my breasts, but I let my hand rest where he has left it, curious about what is under his zipper.

  “It’s my move, right?” I ask playfully and Jackson’s chuckle is so sexy my ache grows with each vibration of his voice.

  “Yes, and if you don’t make one soon I’m going to make one for you.” Jackson drops his hands to the bottom of my skirt and starts trailing his hands underneath the fabric and up toward the ache.

  I know what I want now; I unbutton my skirt and shimmy it over my hips until it’s loose enough to drop to the floor. I step out of it, look up to Jackson and watch as his chest heaves with the breaths he is taking. He wants me as badly as I want him.

  “Your move,” I whisper seductively, and Jackson grabs my ass and lifts me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The pressure of his jeans against my core causes a small gasp to escape my lips.

  “Fuck, Maddy—that was the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.” He presses me tighter against him and I move my hips, searching for the friction I crave so desperately. I hold tightly to Jackson’s neck as he crawls up the bed and lays me back against the pillows. My legs are still around him and he grinds into me while claiming my mouth again. This feeling is euphoric; I have been missing so much. I spread my legs and put my feet on the bed to give me leverage to push up against him. Jackson runs his hand down my leg, hooking his palm under my knee and raising my leg so our bodies fit tightly together.

  After a few minutes of nibbles and gasps, Jackson shifts to my side and I can still feel his need as he presses against my hip. His hand is at my breast again, only this time he isn’t kissing me, he is watching me closely, studying the way my breath catches and the rise and fall of my chest. As Jackson leans in to kiss my breasts, he softly trails his hand down my stomach and then slips one finger under the top of my panties traveling across the top from hip to hip.

  Gazing up at me through hooded eyes, Jackson whispers, “Your move, rookie.”

  I reach down to undo his pants, but he places his hand on top of mine and shakes his head no.

  “I need to leave my pants on—they’re the only thing keeping me from taking this all the way. Touching you and watching you experience all of this is killing me.”

  I watch him for a minute as I try to understand what he has just said. Jackson runs his hand over my hip and then down over my mound, cupping my core and applying just enough pressure to increase the ache instead of relieving it. His fingers slip beneath the side of my panties and I close my eyes with the pleasure of his touch in my folds. I tip my hips up and lock my thumbs under the lace of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them to the floor.

  Jackson claims my mouth again and presses his hand over my core, circling his fingers against me in a relentless rhythm that build and builds until I am pressing myself up against his fingers. I’m on the edge and I close my eyes, wanting to focus on the intensity of this feeling. When my legs begin to shake, Jackson slips his finger inside me and I shudder all around him as my orgasm tears through me. Jackson groans beside me as he presses against me, pulsing and warm. We gasp for air, kissing each other between breaths until we have calmed down. He kisses my lips one last time and then lifts himself from the bed.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, rookie, don’t move.” He grabs something out of his dresser and walks into the en suite bathroom.

  He smiles as he closes the door behind him and the thought I’m laid out across his bed completely naked enters my consciousness. I put my panties back on and grab his shirt from the floor. I breathe in deeply as I pull his shirt over my head and relish the way it still holds the warmth from his body.

  I hear the water running for a few minutes as I sit on the edge of his bed, not sure what to do next. Jackson opens the bathroom door and emerges in only a pair of tight boxer briefs. He shuts the light off and climbs into bed on the opposite side from me. He throws the covers back and pats the sheets next to him, flashing me a big smile.

  “I should go, Jackson, it’s late.” I try to stand but he grabs my wrist and shakes his head no.

  “It’s my move, rookie, and I say you’re staying the night. Now get over here and let’s see how good it feels to fall asleep cuddled up against someone.”

  I smile and nod, climbing under the covers. Jackson folds himself around me, my back to his chest. He pulls me so close to him that there isn’t a place where my body isn’t touching his.

  “Maddy, tonight was unbelievably hot. It might have been the most erotic thing I have ever seen, watching you come apart against me. Go to sleep, beautiful—we have a lot to accomplish in just three weeks.” Jackson kisses my forehead, then rests his head on the pillow behind me.

  “Thank you for tonight, Jackson,” I say as I pull his arm close around my chest.

  “Don’t thank me yet, rookie, we’re just getting started.”

  There’s a knock at the door just as we are drifting off to sleep.

  Jackson lifts his head up. “What?”

  “Um, it’s curfew so your guest needs to go home.” The voice sounds unsure and the statement comes out as more of a question.

  “It’s fine,” Jackson says. “She’s cool.”

  “The whole night?” the voice asks again in disbelief.

  “Yes. Go away. She’s staying the whole night.” Jackson pulls me closer. When we hear the footsteps move away from the door Jackson tells me quietly, “I don’t let women sleep over so he was giving me an out. You’re different. I’m breaking my rule for you.”

  “You don’t even know me,” I say.

  “I know. It’s the craziest thing. Somehow, I feel like I already do. I haven’t found that h
ere with anyone else. Talking to you is like talking to an old friend, only a really hot old friend.” He laughs softly. “You feel safe and familiar. I’m on the road a lot and it’s a feeling that’s rare. When you find it, you don’t let it go easily.”

  “I feel like I know you too.”

  “Good night, rookie.”

  “Good night.”

  Chapter Eight

  It’s been three days since I first woke up in Jackson’s arms. I slept the entire night wrapped up in him and as fairy tale as it sounds, it changed my life. When we woke up, he took me back to my place so I could freshen up, and then we walked hand in hand to a small café where we ate pancakes and drank coffee while getting to know each other better. I feared it would be awkward, like what took place between us would somehow be wrong for us and drive us apart, but it was entirely comfortable. Our breakfast felt like two old friends meeting to catch up on each other’s lives—except while waiting for our food or our check, we couldn’t keep from touching each other.

  Our time together was spent talking and touching, a brush of a hand on my leg, a twist of my hair around his fingers or a light kiss on my head as he tucked me into his side in the booth. I felt the same way toward him, as if I couldn’t stop myself from holding his hand or flipping his hat around on his head. We spent the day together, walking around the city, holding hands, and exploring the town and each other.

  Every day since then we’ve been together. Tonight, he has to leave town for a game and I’m trying not to mope as we watch TV with Abby and Kyle. I can’t help but feel cheated, like his game is taking time away from my three weeks. I’m not even sure what show we’re watching, because Jackson has been running his fingers up and down my arm as I lean against him. Abby throws a piece of popcorn at me and I throw a handful at her in return. It only takes a minute for a full-on war to break out and we’re whizzing popcorn back and forth across the apartment.