Full Court Press

by Sierra Hill

  The bright blue of her eyes looks almost turquoise in the dim light. The same color as the water in the Caribbean. My parents took me there when I was fifteen for a family vacation and I will never forget the almost unreal hue that colored the ocean. I also remember the warmth that wrapped around my body as I swam and surfed during that week. It’s the same warmth I feel in this moment as Ainsley smiles up at me.

  I don’t want to put her down. And I certainly don’t want to let her go, but her laughter has dulled and she’s squirming to get down as her feet dangle at my sides. The moment is gone, thanks to my drunken asshole roommate. The next chance I get I’m going to make him pay.

  With as much grace as I can finesse, I slowly lower her down to the floor, but don’t release her entirely. I move my hands to her lower back, pressing lightly so she has to arch her head back to look up at me.

  She’s probably average height, but because I’m nearly six foot five, there’s a generous gap between us. But that doesn’t stop me from pressing her into my torso and bending to plant quick kisses along her temple. I think it’s safe to assume that our alone time for the evening is over, unless Ainsley wants to resume our make-out session, which I would have absolutely no problem with at all. Because there is nothing I want more than to get naked with her.

  The promise I made to her was real, though. I’m not going to treat her like just another hookup. I invited her to my house so I could spend time with her. Get to know her. And that’s what I did. Now I like her even more than I did before. I like her a lot. I’m not about to screw it up, all the progress I’ve made, by trying to press her just to get in her pants.

  So I decide to lay it out on the table and let her know that the ball is literally in her court.

  “Can I see you again?”

  Ainsley shifts nervously between one foot and the other, but I don’t give her a chance to pull away.

  “When can I see you again?” I whisper as I continue kissing down to her ear. Then we hear the toilet flush and Lance comes out humming a Weezer song about getting high, a goofy grin sketched across his face.

  I ignore him and go back to prodding an answer out of Ainsley, using my hands now to rub down her forearms.

  “I – I don’t know. I’m super busy with work and school.”

  “What’s your schedule like at Ethel’s? When are you there next? I can come visit both you and gramps at the same time.”

  What she doesn’t know, and what I’m keeping from her, is that I’m required to go visit him weekly. I will tell her about it at some point, but not now. Not yet.

  She shrugs. “It’s not exactly the same set schedule every week. But I do work every Thursday night.”

  “Okay, good. Then I’ll definitely come by Thursday.”

  I grab hold of her hand and we walk toward the door of my bedroom. It’s well after midnight and I need to call her an Uber to take her home. There’s no way I can drive, especially now with my record, and I’m not about to let her take the bus or light rail home by herself at this time of night.

  Ainsley pulls back and hesitates a moment as I glance over my shoulder at her pensive expression.

  “Well, um…maybe I could stay a little while longer. Unless you want me to go and have someone else lined up.”

  I whip around and yank her body into mine so fast she sucks in a deep breath. I know she can feel how hard I still am for her. I want her to know – to feel – how much I want her. And that there’s no one else who I have my eyes set on.

  “I was trying to be respectful,” I explain, as I shove my dick into her crotch. “But if you don’t want me to behave myself, then by all means, I’d love to finish what we started.”

  Ainsley gives me a good humored laugh and raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Well, I have to admit, I’m a little torn. Because I would love to stay and have some more of that fabulous chip dip you got out there…”

  In one swift move, I grab behind her legs and throw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold, and dump her across my bed.

  She lets out a loud shriek. “Hey!”

  She scrambles to get up but I’m faster as I straddle her legs and pin her arms to keep her in place.

  “Chip dip, huh? That’s why you’d stay?”

  Testing out my theory that all women are ticklish around their ribs, I start digging in with little jabs of my fingers along her sides. And sure enough, I found the spot.

  Ainsley wiggles underneath me, and if my dick wasn’t hard already, it’s a fucking steel pole now. I will my cock to stand down, because unless she gives the go ahead, nothing is going to happen here tonight.

  Nothing. At. All.

  After a few minutes, I finally relent and we both catch our breath. Her hair has come undone and the black strands spill across my pillow. I lean over her and press my lips against hers. We kiss with pent up need, all that’s been stored up since the first time I saw her. It’s a heady feeling, wanting a girl this much and knowing that it won’t come to fruition tonight.

  Her hands, which were fisting my shirt, finally let go and she gives me a soft shove. Ainsley rolls to her side and props her head up on her elbow, staring down at me. It feels good to have her eyes on me. It’s validation that she’s as into me as I am of her.

  “So in all seriousness,” she says softly. “I’m not a virgin or a prude or anything. I’m just not sleeping with you tonight. And I do have to go. I’ve got to get up at the butt crack of dawn.”

  I prop myself up on my elbow to mimic her posture and push a strand of hair out of her face. Her jet black hair is silky and soft as it sifts through my fingers.

  “Ainsley. I’m into you. I don’t expect anything to happen tonight. Unless, of course, you want to give me a birthday blow job. That I wouldn’t refuse, just so you know.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows so she knows I’m kidding. Although, it would definitely make my dreams come true. All I’ve dreamt about lately is her full lips wrapped around my dick. So getting one in real life would be pretty awesome, but not expected.

  She slaps at my chest playfully and laughs. Then she gives me a long, thoughtful look, as if she might actually be considering the prospect of my dick in her mouth and my cock jumps in excitement.

  “If I had time, I just might consider it, since it’s your birthday, and all. I wouldn’t want you to be deprived of your birthday wishes. But alas” – she shrugs apologetically – “I’ve got to get home before I turn into a pumpkin.”

  I groan and shove my face down into my pillow between us.

  Popping my head back up, I put on the most charming, sexy smile I can muster, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “I guess I’ll have to take a raincheck on that, then.”

  Ainsley leans over so her lips hover above mine. I feel her warm, sweet breath mingle with mine. My buzz wore off over the last hour, as lust sobered me up, but the way she makes my body buzz lying next to me, gets me drunk. High on her.

  “I guess you will.”

  11

  Ainsley

  “I don’t want a sandwich again. Just give me some money so I can buy a salad.”

  I’m slathering the final layer of mayo on the sandwich when Anika walks into the kitchen and plops down at the table, dropping her book bag on the floor next to her with a thump. I give her a sidelong glance, watching her fill up her cereal bowl with Frosted Flakes. I’m getting pretty good at ignoring the teenage attitude she’s been throwing off recently, trying to avoid needless arguments and petty fights. But today I’m tired and not really in the mood for her demands.

  “I’m not going to give you money for something we already have in the fridge,” I reply, letting the piece of bread flop down onto the counter. “If you want a salad, you can find it in the crisper drawer and all the fixings right alongside of it. You are totally capable of putting it together yourself.”

  She lets out the most dramatic of sighs, as if I’ve just told her she has to plant and harvest the lettuce herself.


  “But I don’t have time this morning.” Her whine is three octaves higher and laden with angst. “I still have to do my hair, Ains. I just need ten dollars. What’s the big deal?”

  Ah. Now I see where she’s going with this. Ani doesn’t want the money for lunch. She needs it for something else. I just don’t know what it is.

  Since we’ve moved to Phoenix and she’s become friends with this new girl, Danielle, she’s become a lot more secretive and sullen, pulling away from me in an attempt to hide her feelings. I guess that’s par for the course with most teen girls, but it makes me sad.

  When we lived in Boise, we were really close. We shared everything. She told me about her friends, and the boys she liked, the teachers that annoyed her, her first kiss, the way Justin Lacid’s breath smelled like mustard when he finally gave her tongue. But now, over the last few months, she’s withdrawn.

  It could be partially my fault. I haven’t been around as much as I used to be. Between both jobs and school, I only see her a few nights a week, and some mornings like today. Weekend mornings she’s still in bed sleeping when I leave and out and about somewhere when I return. My mom assures me she’s looking after things with Ani and is always aware of Anika’s whereabouts at any given time. I have to trust that, even though it’s a tough pill to swallow.

  My mom. She won’t be winning any Mother of the Year awards anytime soon, that’s for sure. The only upside is that since we’ve moved here, she’s been trying to change things. She took a job at a hair salon just a few blocks away. It’s a decent living, but she works long hours and on weekends, so she’s not home often with Anika, either. Her moods have been tempered by the meds that she’s been taking again. As long as she keeps on those, I feel safe in knowing we won’t be going down that rocky road any time soon.

  I turn and watch my beautiful younger sister eating her breakfast, gracelessly shoveling spoonful’s of the sugary cereal into her mouth. Her dark long hair is still wet and clings to her back, wavy from hand drying it with her towel. In some ways we look similar, but Ani’s hair color is much lighter than mine and the shape of our face and nose are different. We have different fathers. Neither of us ever knew either one of them because they never stuck around. Or maybe it was that my mother didn’t stay with them. Who knows?

  The one trait we do share is the color of our eyes. That we got from our mother. Sapphire blue with long, thick lashes that fan across our cheeks.

  As I stare at Anika, I notice her frame appears to have become much thinner than it has been. I wonder if that’s just a normal thing for a fifteen-year-old developing body, or if there’s something else going on. We are naturally slim and willowy, although I carry much bigger breasts and a more cushioned ass than my mom.

  Anika, on the other hand, is just plain thin. Had she ever been able to go to dance classes, she likely could have been a decent dancer. But mom never had the money for extra-curricular activities for either one of us. Nor did we ever stay in one place long enough for her to join such activities. It never bothered me much, but now I worry Anika is missing out.

  I’m also now curious as to what Anika isn’t telling me. She’s hiding something. I can feel it.

  “What do you really need the money for, Ani?”

  Her mouth stops chewing mid-bite and her head jerks to the side, eyes giving me the teen death glare. Telling me without words, “none of your business.”

  “Nothing,” she shrugs, setting the spoon down in her bowl and pouring more cereal. “I just want to buy my lunch like my friends do. Is that a crime?”

  “No, it’s not a crime. But we don’t have extra money for cafeteria food. We have food here that’s perfectly acceptable.”

  Anika scoffs sarcastically.

  “Whatevs. I’ll just get it from mom then.” The retort cuts me deep.

  But now I know she needs the money for something other than just lunch, because Anika wouldn’t resort to asking our mom for money. Not that our mother wouldn’t give it to her if she had it, but we’ve just become so accustomed to taking care of ourselves for so long, we don’t rely on our mother for anything outside of rent and medical costs.

  I scoot the chair out next to Anika and sit down, leaning my face in is so close to the side of hers that if she turned, we’d bump noses.

  “Ani, what’s going on? Tell me what you really need the money for.” I try not to sound desperate or needy, but I’m sure she can hear it in my voice. I’m worried. “You can tell me anything, you know. I love you and I will help you any way I can.”

  Her eyes flicker and shimmer, the impenetrable wall she’s erected just about to fall. One more push and everything she’s holding close will come rushing out. I see it in her expression, the softening of her face and the lines around her forehead. I touch the top of her wet head for good measure, stroking the strands reassuringly, hoping that will demonstrate my sincerity.

  Instead, I’m surprised when she does the opposite. She snaps her head away and nearly jumps from her chair in a dash to empty her dish in the sink.

  “Ani…”

  “It’s nothing, Ains. Just forget I asked. I’ll eat the friggin sandwich, okay?” She turns away from the sink and throws all the lunch items in the paper bag, grabbing it to shove in her book bag.

  Before she hits the hallway, she stops briefly, as if she’s just remembered something.

  “Thanks,” she says in a rush. I honestly can’t tell if she’s being sincere or it’s laced with sarcasm. But I choose to believe she means it, and I respond back.

  “You’re welcome. I love you. I hope you have a good day at school. I’m going to be late tonight, but I think mom will be home to fix you some dinner.”

  “Yeah, okay. See you later.”

  And then she closes the bathroom door and I’m left wondering how to get through to a fifteen-year-old who still has the innocence of a child, but the life experiences of an adult. I’m not sure what to say or do, but I know it will weigh heavily on my mind until I know the truth.

  “Gin rummy,” I hear Mr. Forsberg bellow from the kitchen table where he and Cade have been playing cards for the last two hours. It’s Mr. Forsberg’s favorite game, besides cribbage, which he’s ruthlessly beaten me at nearly every time he’s cornered me to play.

  “Gramps, you’re killing me!”

  I smile to myself as I fish out the block of cheese from the fridge to make the grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. I’m on dinner duty while my co-worker, Adriane, is in with Mr. Ornery getting him bathed and dressed. Mr. Newsom has been suffering from a bladder infection and it’s been doing a number on his system and his dementia. I’ve noticed that when he’s sick, the dementia symptoms increase even further. Yesterday when I was on shift, he spoke to me as if I was his late wife, Marion, reminding me to go feed the chickens. He must’ve lived on a farm at some point in his life.

  Out of all our current live-in patients, Simon was by far the healthiest, and most gracious, and charming of the group. Now I see where Cade gets his charm. It’s obviously a family trait.

  This is the first time I’ve seen Cade since the night of his party last Saturday. We’ve been in daily communication though. Each morning, he sends me a sweet text to say hi and two nights ago we talked on the phone well past my bedtime. Laughter from their table has me glancing up from the cheese I’m slicing.

  “Ainsley, dear,” Mr. Forsberg calls over to me. “I think Kincaid may need some lessons on how to lose graciously. Perhaps you can provide him with some pointers.”

  I snort out a laugh at his backhanded compliment. He’s a card shark to be sure.

  “We all know you cheat, Mr. Forsberg. You don’t fool me with your innocent comments about luck. I’m on to you.” I give him the fingers-to-eyeballs signal.

  Simon’s eyes cast downward in meek playfulness and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear. I play fair and square.”

  Cade places his cards down on the table and lifts his h
ands above his head to stretch. He’s facing toward me and my eyes catch a glimpse of the muscled planes of his abs and the sleek skin and V peeking out below his T-shirt.

  My brain short circuits as I lose focus on what I’m doing. I can’t help but stare at his body. Honest to God, I’ve never seen a guy’s abs look as solid as Cade’s. When I finally shake myself free from the snare his physique has me in, I look up to find him smirking at me.

  Smugly smirking. He’s caught me ogling him like a fool and now he knows what effect it has on me.

  Jerk. I stick my tongue out at him and return to my attention to the cheese sandwiches.

  Turning around to face the stove, I begin to grill the ham and cheese as I listen to Cade and his grandfather chit chatting. Simon asks him how everything is going with school and in preparation for the start of basketball season.

  “When do I get to watch you play a basketball game?” Simon asks. “The last one I attended in person was a few years ago. Now you’re some hot shot player.”

  Cade laughs boisterously. “Hardly, Gramps. Although, I have been starting the last two seasons. Our team’s pretty good this year. Solid. We only lost two guys to the draft last year. Most of my boys are returning and we feel good about our shot at the title.”

  Simon makes a humming sound at his grandson’s proclamation. “That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you, Kincaid.” I think it’s sweet when he calls him by his full name.

  There’s a short stretch of silence before Cade continues. My ears instinctively perk up because his voice goes low and soft.

  “I may not be playing the first few games, though. But we can get you some tickets to later in the season. Dad comes to most of the home games, not that you’d want to go with him. But maybe Ainsley can take you.”

  My head whirls over my shoulder and I raise my eyebrows at his comment. Me, attend a college sporting event? Unlikely. Admittedly, it would be kind of exciting to watch him out in his element. All hot and sweaty and out of breath…