"A nice surprise?" Ally asked, her slow smile melting Sara’s heart.
"A very, very nice surprise," she sighed. She kissed Ally tenderly, teasing her lips with the tip of her tongue. "It’s deeply thrilling to be with a woman who knows what she wants … and isn’t afraid to get it."
"I do know what I want," Ally said, "I just need to wait to get it." She patted Sara gently, indicating that she wanted to get up. She rose to her feet, her journey a little ungainly because of her pants still around her knees. Sara looked up at her and started to rise also, but Ally put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Just because I want to wait, doesn’t mean you have to." She kicked off her sweatpants, then pulled her shirt off and stood in front of Sara, revealing her body to the wide, but appreciative eyes. "This is more than I had on earlier today," she said. Their eyes met again, and Ally said, "I want both of us to get what we need. I’m not ready to have sex, but I want you to have your pleasure. Feel free to explore."
Immediately complying with the invitation, Sara sat on her heels, her eyes fixed on the powerful, sharply defined thighs just a few inches from her. "Incredible," she said, running her fingertips over the taut skin.
"My legs are my best feature," Ally said, smiling down at the look of rapture on the mesmerized woman’s face.
"No, no, no," Sara murmured. "Your ass is … a work of art."
"Mmm … the judges don’t like it, because you can’t actually see the glutes. They like a really hard, taut look."
"I’m not a judge," Sara murmured, "just a fan." Crawling around to the back, she ran her thumbs just under the swell of Ally’s ass, shivers rolling down her spine as she did so. Unable to resist, she wrapped her arms around her and nuzzled her face against the firm mounds, her breath growing ragged as Ally reached behind and stroked her hair. "Ungh … I’ve got to stop," Sara said thickly. "I’m gonna start begging and that’s just unseemly."
Laughing softly, Ally said, "I’d stick with bodybuilding if the judges were half as interested in me as you are."
Sara put her hands around Ally’s waist and pulled herself up. Her eyes landed on her abdomen and she said, "Just one more little spot?"
"Sure. Go ahead," Ally said, standing tall and tensing her abs.
Moving to stand behind her, Sara pressed her cheek against Ally’s shoulder and reached around, letting her fingers play with the tight bands of muscle. "Not ticklish, are you?"
"Not at the moment," she murmured. "It comes and goes … depending on the mood."
Sara started to kiss Ally’s neck, closing her eyes as her lips met the soft, slightly damp skin. Now both hands played across her belly, with one daring hand moving under the waistband of her shorts. "Perfect," she sighed, her cool fingers probing lower and lower into the rock hard muscle, finally brushing against soft curls.
Ally’s hand covered hers, and she turned to kiss Sara’s cheek. "That’s about as much as I can take," she whispered. "You’re bordering on an erogenous zone that has a mind of her own."
"Note to self … tickle Ally’s belly the first chance you get."
Pulling the warm hand from her shorts, Ally turned and locked her arms around Sara, intentionally holding on with every bit of force she could muster. Sara’s arms were pinned tightly at her sides, and she could not have moved an inch of her own volition had she wanted to, which she most decidedly did not. Ally gazed down at the serene look on her face and kissed her firmly. "We’re gonna get along just fine, counselor," she murmured. "I think we’re a perfect fit." I just hope it’s not too perfect a fit, she thought, slightly worried.
Late that night, as Jamie cuddled up to her partner, the taller woman jerked awake and looked at her with wide eyes. "I think I want blue!"
"Shh …" Jamie said softly, rubbing her back to relax her. "You don’t have to make up your mind right now. Your little brochure will be there when you wake up."
"Do you like blue?" she asked sleepily as she started to drift off once again.
"Of course I do," Jamie said. "It’s my favorite color since I met you and got to look into those beautiful blue eyes every day."
Ryan was nearly asleep when she once again jerked awake and said, "Maybe green! Then I’d think of your eyes."
"Sleep now," Jamie said, rubbing her back comfortingly, "color choice tomorrow."
When Jamie woke the next morning, Ryan was lying on her back, eyes wide open. "Nightmare?" the blonde asked softly, running a hand over the soft cotton that covered Ryan’s belly.
"No, I’m just lying here trying to convince myself that it’s okay to quit the basketball team."
Now wide-awake, Jamie sat up and looked at her. "I thought you’d decided …"
"I have," Ryan said, nodding. "But there’s a difference between deciding and getting up the nerve to actually do it."
"Tell me what’s going through your mind," Jamie said.
"Well, I guess the bottom line is that even with all that’s happened, I still keep coming back to the one thing I can’t get around. In essence, when I joined the team, I gave my word. Quitting because I’m unhappy with the way things went just cheapens my reputation." She paused for a few minutes, then said reflectively, "I’ve never quit anything before, Jamie. This is really hard for me to do."
"I understand," the smaller woman said. "But you and I have slightly different perspectives. I think the bottom line is whether you think you’re worth it. Do you think that you deserve a little peace?"
"That’s not how I was raised, Jamie, and it’s really hard to go against that conditioning. Following through on your obligations is paramount in my family. I worry … I worry that Da will be disappointed in me if I quit, even though he says he won’t. I saw the look in his eyes when I told him that I was quitting. He looked like he wanted to give me a lecture."
"He might have been," she said honestly. "Over time it’s impossible not to occasionally disappoint the people that we love. But the fact remains, Ryan, if this is the right decision – for you – you have to make it … even if it might disappoint others."
"What about you, honey? How will you feel about me if I quit?" She asked this in a very quiet voice, and Jamie ached for her partner, knowing how fragile and vulnerable she felt at the moment.
"Every day that you don’t have to wear that monstrosity of a uniform is a good day in my book," she joked. When Ryan tugged playfully on a lock of her hair, she gave her a more serious answer. "It doesn’t really matter to me. You’re either going to be playing basketball or softball. You’ll still be gone for a few hours every afternoon, and you’ll still have to travel for away games. I really don’t have an opinion. All I know is that I’m confident that you’ll make the right choice – even if it’s not the most popular one."
"I’m glad one of us is sure of that," Ryan grumbled quietly.
"I have enough confidence in you for both of us," Jamie said.
After her morning class, Ryan knocked lightly on Mary Hayes’ door. The coach looked up, and favored her with a warm smile. "Ryan! It’s great to see you again. Come on in."
Ryan sat down and said, "How ya doin, Coach?"
"I’m good, how about you?"
"Better," she said, smiling tentatively. "Uhm … I wanted to talk to you about my place with the team."
"Are you considering coming back, Ryan?"
The way she framed the question gave Ryan pause, and she asked, "Do you think I should?"
The coach avoided replying directly, saying, "Ryan, if you want to come back, we’ll figure out a way to make it happen."
Ryan cocked her head and asked, "That wasn’t a ringing endorsement, Coach. Level with me, will you?"
Folding her hands on her desk, she said, "The school is very concerned, Ryan. The athletic director was very, very upset about what happened in North Carolina. If you come back, we’re going to have to come up with procedures to ensure that unauthorized photographers can’t get into the arena. And some of the schools have already expressed their concern about you bei
ng hurt in their gyms. Nothing that’s insurmountable, but it’s something we’re going to have to look into."
Ryan shook her head, finally letting out a short laugh. "Has anything gone right this season?"
"Not a whole hell of a lot," Mary said.
"I think I’ll just bow out gracefully," Ryan said. "It really doesn’t seem worth the trouble at this point." Mary nodded, seeming like she had expected the decision. "Only one thing bothers me," Ryan said.
"What’s that?"
"I know this is the end of your contract. If my staying could help you land a new deal, I’d do it."
Mary smiled at the earnest young woman and shook her head slowly. "You know, Ryan, I don’t think I’ve ever misjudged a person as badly as I misjudged you. I’m not even sure what it was, but I didn’t trust you from the moment you joined the team."
"Glad to know I’m not just paranoid," Ryan said.
"No, you aren’t," she said. "Over time, I’ve come to see how wrong I was about you, but it’s really too late now to do much good. I’m really sorry, Ryan. If I hadn’t let my first impressions get in the way, we could have had a fantastic year, and you would have had a much better experience with us." Shaking her head, she commented, "Hell, if I hadn’t switched our practice schedule around, you wouldn’t have been carjacked. You would have been sweating your butt off right here in the gym."
Ryan chuckled wryly and recalled, "As my grandfather says, ‘If if’s and but’s were candied nuts, we’d all have a hell of a Christmas.’"
Mary gave her a puzzled look, and Ryan clarified. "You can’t look at it like that. Going through ‘what if’ scenarios just makes you crazy. I should know," she added ruefully.
"I really appreciate your willingness to stick around to help me out, Ryan, but much to my surprise, they’re giving me a one year extension. The fact that we’ve done as well as we have with so many injuries and so much turmoil has apparently impressed the athletic director."
"Good for you!" Ryan said. "I hope it goes well for you next year."
"You know, Ryan, I’ve got to be honest," the coach said. "You’re the least spoiled rich kid I’ve ever met. Your parents did a wonderful job with you."
Ryan tossed her head back and laughed heartily. "Coach, my dad’s a cook for the fire department. We’re blue collar all the way."
"But … you …"
"Jamie’s the one with the dough," Ryan said, still laughing. "And, by the way, she’s not very spoiled either."
The coach shared her laugh, and asked, "How’s a woman supposed to get by if she can’t stereotype people, Ryan? Is nothing sacred?"
Ryan stood to leave, and extended her hand. "It’s been interesting, Coach."
"Yeah … it’s been that. I still haven’t been able to find out who spoke to the tabloids about you, Ryan. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to find her and kick her ass off the team."
"I have my suspicions, Coach, but I’d rather not get into it. I’ve just started to calm down, and I don’t need any more stress in my life. I just want to move on and get back to the things that keep me happy."
"I hope you get there, Ryan. You’re a special woman, and I’m sincerely sorry that things didn’t work out with us."
"I am too," she said. "But it’s only January, Coach. I’ve got five months left of my college career. You might not have seen the last of me."
"Meaning?"
"I think I might play softball for Hank Roberts."
"Softball? At your height?"
Smiling wryly, Ryan said, "This is the only height I have. It’ll have to do."
"Wow," the older woman said. "That’s an excellent team, Ryan, you must be pretty damned good to be able to walk on."
Fixing her with her intense blue eyes, Ryan said, "I am good. I could have easily snared a softball scholarship, but it’s not my favorite sport."
"That was soccer, wasn’t it?" Mary asked, giving Ryan a sad smile.
"Yeah. Soccer, field hockey, volleyball, basketball and softball – in that order."
Leaning back in her chair, Mary gazed at Ryan for a moment and said, "An athlete like you comes along once in a coach’s career – if she’s very, very lucky. I sure did blow my chance."
"You know – you really did," Ryan said, giving her a crooked grin. "But that’s a moot point now. I think I’m going to join the softball team – just to go out on an up note."
"I wish you all the best, Ryan," Mary said.
"Just one thing," Ryan said. "Coach Roberts might ask you for a recommendation. Will you give me one?"
"That depends," Mary said. She got up and walked around to the edge of her desk and sat down. Looking into Ryan’s eyes, she asked, "How are you – mentally. Did you see someone?"
"I did," Ryan said. "It’s been helping quite a bit, Coach. I’m doing well, and I know my doctor would clear me to play – if she were asked. I’d prefer that she not be asked, though."
"Are you sure you’re well? Are you sure you can put up with the crowds? The photographers?"
"I am. I still have issues, Coach, and I will for a long while, but I’m not going to melt down again. I can handle things better now."
Mary Hayes reached up and placed her hand on Ryan’s shoulder. "I sincerely hope that’s true. You don’t deserve any of the things that have happened to you this year, Ryan."
With a warm, full smile, Ryan said, "I hope I deserve Jamie. She and I just got together this year."
"Yeah, you deserve Jamie," the older woman said, smiling warmly. "How does she feel about your playing softball?"
"Mmm … it wouldn’t be her choice. She thinks I extend myself too much."
"Well, at least one of you has a good head on her shoulders," Mary said. "If Hank calls, I’ll sing your praises, Ryan. That’s the least I can do."
Jamie rode her bike home for lunch and was pleased to find her partner in the kitchen making an impressively large vegetable salad. "Is that all for you?" the smaller woman teased as she got a good look at the serving-bowl sized meal.
"Yeah. Want one?" Ryan turned to give Jamie a hug, and said, "I thought there was a chance you’d come home for lunch. I think there’s enough here for two."
"You’re such a good provider," Jamie sighed as she sat down at the table. "How’d your morning go?"
"It was interesting," Ryan said slowly.
"Interesting and you are often a dangerous combination," Jamie said. "Was it good interesting or bad interesting?"
"Mmm … neutral," Ryan said. "I quit the team, but not before Coach Hayes let me know that it would be a big hassle for the school if I returned."
"Huh?"
"They’re all paranoid about lawsuits if I or some other player got injured because of the press. Even though it’s died down, some of the other schools are worried about it. We just kinda agreed that it was best to part ways."
"Weird," Jamie sighed. "Everything about this season was just plain weird."
"Can’t disagree with you on that one, babe. Oh, I ran into Janae when I was over at Haas. She’s back at school, and she seems to be feeling pretty good."
"That’s a relief," Jamie sighed.
"Yeah. She’s even able to work out a little, but she’s definitely not going to return to the team."
"I don’t blame her a bit. Does Coach Hayes know?"
"Yep. Janae said she seemed relieved." Ryan shook her head and said, "I’ll never understand Mary Hayes if I live to be 100. But I feel better now that it’s all resolved. I’m ready to move on."
Jamie laid her head on her companion’s shoulder and sighed deeply. "Can I stay here? I was lonely today at school. I got used to having you all to myself during break."
"Sure, you can stay here. We can come home every day for lunch, and you can sit on my lap to eat."
Jamie speared a crisp baby carrot and eased it into Ryan’s mouth, alternating bites until they had made a substantial dent in the meal. "So, when do you start softball practice?" she asked lightly. "Today?"
; "Nope. I’m not going into this blindly. I pulled the schedule off the Internet, and it’s a little more aggressive than I’m used to, to be honest. I uhm … I thought they’d play a couple of games a week, but it’s a lot more than that."
"How many more?" Jamie asked warily.
"A lot more." Ryan gave her an adorably sheepish look and said, "They uhm … play 70 games this season," she said, gulping slightly.
"70 games!" Jamie gasped. "In how many weeks?"
"Mmm … 15," Ryan said.
"That’s … that’s a game almost every day!" she cried.
Ryan gave her an indulgent smile and said, "No it’s not, silly. It’s only four and two thirds games a week."
Slapping at her shoulder, Jamie said, "Like that’s a lot better? Ryan, you can’t afford to play four and five times a week … you’ll never get your studying in."
"No, no, I didn’t make myself clear. The team doesn’t play a lot of single games. They play double or triple-headers quite often, so most weeks they just play two or three days. But they play every weekend … and I do mean every weekend," she said for emphasis. "Usually all three days of the weekend."
"Is there a lot of travel, too?" the blonde asked hesitantly.
"More than I’d like," Ryan said. "The problem is that they play a lot of tournaments in the beginning part of the season, and they’re all over the place. Florida, Las Vegas, New Mexico …"
Jamie sighed heavily, and got up from her human chair. She walked over to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, opening it and leaning her head back to chug most of it. Coming back to the table, she stood behind her partner and began to run her hands through the long, black hair, letting the calming action soothe her so that she could think clearly. After a few long minutes of rhythmic stroking she said, "You wouldn’t even propose this if it wasn’t important to you. If you think you’ll get a lot of enjoyment out of this, and you’re sure it won’t be too stressful – I want you to do it."
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