I don't know if we're teasing, just dancing as friends trying to show off for a crowd, or if this is serious. Does she wants me just as much as I want her right now? I haven't ever crossed the line with her. The one that if I go over, there isn't any turning back. I either go full speed at home plate, or I fall flat on my face, rejected. And I know I should stick to my plan, move on. Find another girl to distract myself.
But she's leaving. I have absolutely nothing to lose. And even if I did, I don't seem to care one bit right now.
With that, I bend down farther, sliding my hands from her hips to her thighs and in a bit more. I swear I hear her suck in a breath. I plow forward, directing myself as I go. Not that I have a full-fledged plan, but there have just been so many things I've wanted to do to Kelsey, with her, that I'm improvising with the short amount of time I have left.
Lowering my lips, I sniff at her bare neck and collarbone, inhaling every sweet smell coming off of her. Damn she smells so good. Leaning in and closing the rest of the distance, I fuse my lips to her skin.
Nothing has ever tasted sweeter in my entire life.
Forget her scent. This. This is what I will never be able to get out of my brain for as long as I live. The taste of her. The smooth, warm skin under my tongue. The way she tastes like the desert and the rain forest all rolled into one. She tastes like nature itself. She is the only thing I need to survive.
"Clint." Kelsey half-whimpers, half-chokes out my name and I think it might be the sexiest word anyone has ever uttered. I slide my lips over her skin again, leaving slow kisses and licks on her burning flesh.
I feel like someone poured diesel and liquid nitrogen into my veins. I'm so amped up, so on edge, that I almost don't trust myself to touch her right now. I feel like I might break her in half in my haste to feel her. I'm shaking, half-drunk and half-dazed. I feel high, like I might be hallucinating. But my vision and actions are so crystal clear at the same time.
She turns in my arm, the same feral look in her hazel eyes that I imagine she sees in mine. "Take me somewhere."
And now we've both crossed it. That line. Me by putting my lips on her skin. Her by agreeing to this, to being with me.
My only response is to take her hand and drag her out of the bar, stopping as we spill onto the sidewalk. Our heads are both on swivels as we glance around, looking for somewhere, anywhere to go. If anyone is watching us, we probably look like we're on Molly, or one of the other drugs all of the kids on campus seem to be taking these days.
After a minute of frantic searching, Kelsey grabs my arm and sprints for a nearby alley between two of the downtown shops. Both of them are closed, the windows dark, and no one will see us as we make our way into the back of the unlit cement space.
We don't say a word, but as soon as we're concealed from the street, she's on me.
I catch her as she's mid-leap to my body, wrapping my arms around her tiny frame and hoisting her up so that our faces are level. Turning her, I prop her against myself and the wall, the way I've seen in the porn I watch. Except all of our clothes are on. And my dick isn't inside of her. But shit do I wish it was.
I pause, sensing the weight of the moment. I'm about to kiss Kelsey. She has her legs around my waist, my hands are in her hair, and I'm about to kiss her.
She lets out a moan of impatience and I dive in, throwing all importance to the wind.
My lips crash down hard on hers, the worries about finesse and expertise completely wiped out of my mind. My brain is blank save for the way Kelsey tastes, smells and feels. My memory has been erased, everything that came before this moment in time does not matter at all.
Our alcohol-tainted breath mixes, the scents and tastes fueling our burning kiss even more. She writhes against me, her small limbs wrapping like vises around my waist and neck. We can't get close enough to each other. I'm practically branding the rough brick wall with a tattoo of her form.
My body feels like one, pulsing exposed nerve. I'm too hot, too sensitive, too turned-on. After what feels like hours of my lips being fused to hers, I come up for air, gulping in sweet oxygen.
Kelsey's entire body is one huge blush. Her pearly flesh is flushed and pink-tinged. It only makes me harder. I can feel my rock-solid dick snuggled closely between us. This is the closest he's ever come to that spot on a girl. And he's about to bust any minute because of it.
It’s not like I've wanted to wait. But it doesn't work like that when you're nearly 300 pounds. And not one girl will even look at you, better yet want to get naked and fool around with you. I've had my share of drunken, pity kisses and sloppy groping over the clothes. But that's about it. The fact that I'm here, in this predicament with the girl I'm basically head over heels in love with? It is surreal.
And being here, like this, now? I'm not even sure what to do next. I want so badly to keep going, to see where we end up, but I'm not even sure I know how. When I think about trying to undress her, unhooking her bra, using my fingers in the right way, putting on a condom. All of those complexities? What if I do it wrong? What if I'm lousy at sex? What if I only get one shot with her? What will she say when she finds out I'm a virgin?
"Clint?" I barely even hear Kelsey for how breathy her voice is.
I look up, and then down. I've gone soft. Fuck. I'm so in my own head that I can't even properly try to perform for the girl of my dreams.
I set Kelsey down, her back sliding on the hard brick, and back away. I run my hands over my head, feeling the prickly black stubble of my buzzcut.
"Fuck..." I grumble.
"Um...what's going on?" She sounds confused. And also turned on. The neediness is so evident in her voice that it gets my useless cock to twitch, but then it goes limp again.
"I'm sorry...I don't know..."
Anger flashes on her face. "You don't know? What I'm not good enough for you? Wow, Clint. I mean I knew there was a line there..."
I cut her off. "No, Kelsey, listen, you don't understand-"
"No, seriously. I get it. Completely. You wanted some slutty blonde skank. That was clearly what was on the menu tonight. Please, don't let me stop you. It’s probably best we didn't anyway. Easier to be friends after, right?"
She scoffs and fluffs her hair. What I have come to know as her defensive maneuver. She's masking her hurt with her usual sassiness. She thinks I don't want her? God, she couldn't be further from the truth. And then she keeps going, talking to hide her hurt as well. "I mean, I thought you'd have a little more standards. If you didn't want me, at least go for a brunette or something, you know..."
I've heard enough and cut her off with a harsh, "Kelsey!"
She shuts up. I finally see through to the girl inside of her. The scared, vulnerable one that she loves to shun away and bury deep. I don't have another choice but to tell her my secret. She can't think I don't want this. I want this more than air. More than life.
"I do want you. More than you could possibly know. It's just...I don't, I'm not, experienced."
She looks at me, another confused expression moving over her fox-like sharp features. I have to rip this band-aid off.
"I'm a virgin."
The realization dawns on her face, and I feel like I'm going to be sick I'm so embarrassed.
I can tell Kelsey is struggling to keep her reaction in check, but her blush gives her away. She thinks this is amusing, or embarrassing, or something. She probably thinks I'm a freak.
"Clint, I didn't know, I didn't guess..." There is a small half smile gracing her lips.
Fuck, she's smiling at this. My deepest secret, the thing I'm most ashamed of in this world and she's smiling.
"You have no idea what it feels like to be looked at in disgust. Jesus...look at you!" I wave my hand at her perfect body. I can feel the anger suffuse through my veins, I can feel my leash on it start to break. I have to get out of here before I blow up on her. "Forget I ever told you. Just...forget it."
I don't even wait to hear or see her reaction. I turn, the hot su
mmer night doing nothing to cool my fury, and start to run. I don't know where I'm running, or why. I run for what feels like hours, the rage in my veins slowly dissipating to a cool exhaustion.
When I finally drag myself back to the house, the entire structure is pitch black. I sneak into my room, too tired to even remove my clothes, and fall into a fitful sleep.
4
Kelsey
I'm not really sure what I'm still doing at Grover. Much less what I'm doing still living in the same house as Clint.
In some unearthly way, Minka has convinced me to stay here for a couple more weeks. She told me not to run, that my parents will find me no matter where I go. And she's right. But that hasn't stopped my gypsy nomad ways before. So what the hell am I still doing here?
Maybe it's Dorothy and the other animals at the preserve who I can't seem to tear myself away from. Maybe it's the fact that Jackson is here, and I always feel better when he's in close proximity. Maybe it’s my gut telling me I shouldn't move on yet, and I've always trusted my gut. It's usually the only thing I can trust.
So why the hell is my stupid freaking gut telling me I need to address this business with Clint? Why is it putting these thoughts in my head? Thoughts of us together.
A virgin. Who the fuck would have seen that curve ball coming? Well, except Clint. He's great at handling balls. Fuck. Dirty thoughts and innuendos are usually my bread and butter, but I can't seem to get my mind out of the gutter when it comes to Clint these days.
But a virgin? My hot, scruffy stud of a best friend hasn't dipped his wick in the honey pot?
And then I remember what Clint used to look like. It took me some time to get used to the new him, but now that I have I almost forget he used to be heavy. But how could I forget that? I barely recognized him when I came home. I almost hit on him on the porch when I arrived.
It still blows my mind though. Clint's personality is awesome, regardless of what he looks like. There had to be some girl who would have ridden that horse into town. And a hell of lot more would give their right tit to hop on some hot baseball player's junk the way he looked now.
And just maybe, that's why I was sticking around. I wasn't afraid to admit it. I like sex. A lot. Great sex is good for the body, the soul. And the clit. Can’t forget that one.
Three days ago Clint slammed me up against the wall behind Sammy's, and I haven't been able to get that kiss out of my head. It haunts me every waking, and sleeping, second. I know I want more. And we've already crossed the line. The one we both knew existed. There was a country called Friend Zone, and we left it to travel to the island called With Benefits. And now that we were on that island, I want the whole vacation.
I didn't want to set up a home — no relationships that was my rule — but I'd take a nice long relaxing vacation. Who better than with someone I thought was funny, genuine and extremely sexy? It was a plus that Clint was my friend. We could hump like bunnies and then go get a beer. And after it ended, because it would inevitably end, we would be able to move on and stay pals.
There was just one little wrinkle. Clint hadn't spoken to me since he'd literally run away from me in that alley.
When I was at the house, he was never there. He wouldn't come home until late in the night. He'd take all of his meals to his room so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.
I'd tried to corner him several times, but he always slipped out or made some excuse. Well, tonight I'd be making sure that he couldn't get away.
Minka and I sit in our stadium seats, surrounded by hundreds of other Grover fans here for the exact same reason. Minka is busy chatting away to the other wives and girlfriends, or WAGS as I call them, in the section. The girls she's become friendly with since she started dating Owen two years ago. I can't be bothered with small talk right now though. Especially with those bimbos.
My eyes are glued to the field waiting for Clint to run out as they announce him. I've already watched him warm up for the super-regional game, those hot white baseball pants hugging the dips and valleys in his ass and thighs. The gym did that man good. I was practically sweating through the Grover Baseball t-shirt I stole from Clint's room before Minka and I left.
"What're you doing?"
I barely register Minka's question, and don't bother to peel my eyes from the field twenty rows in front of us. "Hm?"
"I asked what you were doing? Why do you look like Jesus himself might run out of the dugout right now?"
Sliding my eyes over to her, I smile. "Maybe Jesus himself is about to come out of there. Hot Jesus in white baseball pants."
"You're such a hornball. I knew you begged to come to this for a reason."
"More like one reason." I licked my lips and blew her a kiss, earning me the usual Minka-eye roll.
"And what would that reason be?"
Minka's question lingers in my brain as the Grover team is announced. The uniform clad hunks trot onto the field, almost all of them toned and tan and mouth-watering. But I'm zeroed in on one of them. Clint. In his catcher's gear, his tall, muscular brawn makes my heart start thumping double time and I can feel the wetness now coating my panties.
That kiss. It set my bones ablaze, it stirred in me the most basic of needs. God, he was so sexy. The way I felt like he wanted to swallow me whole. How his breath came out in loud gasps when we finally broke apart. The hard, long length of him pressed against my sex. Yeah, I was ready to go on a nice long vacation to “Fuck Me Best Friend” island.
"Are you eye-fucking Clint?" Minka's voice pulls me back to consciousness from Sexland.
"Maybe..."
It looks like her eyes just about roll back in her head. "Wait, what?! Since when?"
I pat her on the back, because it looks like she just might faint. "Um...since he got hot. Did you not notice that?"
At my response, Minka frowns. And not a mock frown, like when someone is faking being mad or annoyed. This is a genuine, creases-in-her-eyebrow frown. "Kelsey. I've known you for almost your entire life. I thought you were better than that."
The players take the field down below, our guys assuming their positions out on the diamond. Since we are the home team, they'd be batting second. I stole another glance at Clint, crouching down at home plate as Owen threw him head shakes and hand signals from the mound.
"Oh come on, Minks. Lighten up, I'm only kidding. I love Clint, like a friend. I also happen to know he can play tonsil-hockey like only a sexy athlete could.”
At this point it looks like Minka swallowed a bug and is choking on it. Her face is red, her eyes wide with shock. "You guys made out?"
I just smile, silently confirming what I just told her to be true.
"Kelsey..." Minka gives me her admonishing-mother tone.
"Save it, Minks. I've heard this speech enough times to know you're already disappointed in me."
Minka checks her tongue, but still continues. "Except you haven't. Because this time I'm not concerned about you. You want to have casual flings your whole life? Fine. But you do realize Clint isn't like that. And you're absolutely blind if you don't see the way he looks at you. Don't do this. Not to him."
I'm stunned. Literally stunned. I think my jaw is scraping the dirty stadium floor, mixing with the crushed peanuts and spilled soda. Minka has never talked to me like that before. Sure, she's bitched about my lack of boyfriends and excess of ex-hookups. But that tongue lashing? I've never fallen victim to one of her vicious attacks. Now I knew what it felt like to be taken down a peg by my best friend.
But what did she know really? Clint seemed just as into what we were doing as I was. If he was not cool with it, he would have let me know.
"How does he look at me?" Despite all of the stuff she just said to me, that is the one thing that sticks in my head.
"Like he's in love with you. Like the ground you walk on is sacred. Like Miles looks at Chloe. Like Owen looks at me."
I grimace. All of that fairytale, love crap makes me nauseous. And Clint so doesn't look at me like th
at. I even scoff when she raises her eyebrows at me to prove some point.
"Please, Kelsey. Don't go there."
She shouldn't have said that. Because for as well as my best friend knows me, that was a fatal mistake. Everyone knows that once I'm told I shouldn't, or can't, do something, it becomes priority numero uno.
* * *
I haven't been able to take my eyes off of Clint's ass for the last 20 minutes. Not when he's bent down just so like that. I can see the muscles bunching is his muscular thighs, the way his tight, firm ass strains against the thin white material of his baseball pants as he catches pitch after high-speed pitch from Owen.
He doesn't have the fear gene anywhere in him. His best friend is launching 90 mile-an-hour pitches at him and he doesn't even flinch. I see in him what I often feel within myself. You get nowhere if you don't stare fear in the face, laugh at it and tell it to fuck off.
Suddenly Clint jumps up, hurling the ball directly in Owen's direction. But this is a play they've practiced a thousand times. Clint's giant, muscle-carved arm rears back and then explodes, sending the small white and red object soaring through the air. Owen ducks down onto his mound, his mind reading every single thing Clint has already thought. The two of them completely in sync throughout each play.
The ball connects with a loud thwack and sinks into the second-basemen's glove.
"OUT!" The umpire pumps his fist in a downward motion. Clint threw the runner, who was trying to steal one of his bases, out. He makes that motion hot guys always make. The one between a fist pump and a roar, his muscles all tense and his mouth dropping open in a ferocious yell. He looks like the lion, controlling his kingdom from home plate.
I stand up and scream with the rest of the crowd, putting my fingers in my mouth and whistling. It was the third and finalout. Game over. Grover's headed to the College World Series.
"I can't believe it! We’re going to the World Series! We’re going to Omaha!!!" Minka is jumping up and down, doing this hokey little happy dance that makes me laugh like a hyena. "Oh my God! Miles. He's probably hating he missed this." She looks worried about Chloe's boyfriend. Only my stoic, serious best friend would think about that right now.
Catching to Win (Over the Fence #3) Page 4
