"Chin up, buttercup. He's happy as a clam right now. He's got the hottest ballerina princess in all the land, and he's headed for the majors. I'm sure he'll be happy to watch from the stands with us when they make the championship series."
She smiles. "You're right! Come on, let's beat the crowd so we can get a table at Sammy's."
Twenty minutes and two beers later, Minka finally whoops when Owen walks into the bar to a standing ovation. Her boyfriend begins jumping up and down, waving his hands around like a maniac.
Still the same golden boy I went to high school with. He's comes over to our table pulling Minka into his arms . He fuses his lips to hers, not caring who the hell in this bar is watching. People wolf-whistle and moan obnoxiously, but my friends just keep sucking each other's faces. When they come up for air, finally, he mouths "I love you" to her. Yes, he may be the golden boy, but he loves Minka unconditionally for who she is and what she's gone through. And for that I will always love him like a brother.
Clint comes in slowly behind him, to much less enthusiasm save for a couple of back slaps. He's so modest. He doesn't need the limelight, his career is not forged off of ego and appearance. He loves to play, and would be happy to do it alone if he could.
"Great game, bros! You whooped those sorry bitches.” I fist bump Owen as he slides into our booth. Clint stands at the head of the table, awkwardly avoiding my eye contact.
"I'm gonna grab a beer. See you guys in a bit.”
Not so fast. It won't be that easy to get rid of me tonight. "I'll join you!"
I hop up, linking my arm through his so fast and steering us away from the table so that he can't do anything but be dragged along. I move us to a less occupied corner and stop, moving to face him.
I try to make him look at me, but he's got at least a foot and a half on my short ass. "Okay, when do you think you'll stop it with this bitchy 'let's not talk to Kelsey' routine? It's getting old and you look like a sad sloth when you sulk."
I start off with a joke, thinking that maybe we can get our friendly banter going again. Clint was always my favorite friend to talk to. It was easy, there was never any pressure. Now it felt like pulling teeth from a gator just to get him to look my way.
"I really am going to get a beer." He turns, his massive body making me back up a step to accommodate for his movement.
I grab his wrist before he can flee. "Seriously, what the fuck, Clint? You're really going to keep ignoring me?"
He stops and sighs. "What? What do you need to talk about?"
I almost laugh. This was certainly not the Clint I knew. "Um, how about the fact that you're my best friend who hasn't spoken to me in almost four days? Or how about we talk about the fact that we kissed? Or about the little fact bomb you dropped on me and then ran away?"
Clint's face goes ice cold, his usual aquamarine orbs are as frigid and clear as the snow in Antarctica. I can see his jaw tick under the stubbly skin. And then he's pulling me from the bar like it’s on fire.
He pushes open the door violently. I didn't even know he had that kind of anger in his being. And then we end up in the place where this all started. The alley. Although this time he's trying to stand as far away as possible, not pushing me up against the dirty brick wall. Bummer for me I suppose.
"It isn't enough that I embarrassed myself in front of you the other night with my secret? You need to go announce it to the whole bar?"
I take a play right out of Minka's book and roll my eyes. "Cool your jets, crazy. No one was listening to us, for one. For two, no one could have possibly known that's what I was talking about. Your secret is safe, drama queen."
Clint exhales loudly again and runs his large hands through his military cut. I'd love to run my hands over the prickly black buzz cut again...
"Talk. If that's what you need to do."
He interrupts my fantasy. Focus, Kelsey. I breathe deep, searching through all of the arguments and thoughts I've talked over in my head for the last three days.
"You didn't give me an opportunity to process the other night. It took me by surprise, I admit. But I've had the last three days to go over it in my head. You know, since you're being a total childlike asshole and ignoring me."
Clint flinches at that. He almost looks guilty, but stiffens his upper lip and still refuses to look at me. I push on.
"You being a virgin doesn't matter to me, Clint. I only froze because I'm actually surprised that you are one. A nice guy like you, even at your heaviest. I thought you'd be pulling in a few of those baseball sluts looking to examine the team's bats up close and personal. You have a stellar personality. Fuck, you are a stellar person."
He's still staring over my head.
"Would you at least look me in the eye if I told you I found it hot?"
Now he's laser focused in on me. That's a good boy.
He narrows his eyes. "Are you high?"
I snort. It’s just so ironically funny because I should have toked up before this conversation. It would have made it so much easier.
"No. I'm honest. Which is all I've ever been with you, Clint. You know me. I would think you'd be open enough with me to not avoid me like the fucking plague this week."
"You think it’s hot that I'm a virgin?"
Typical guy. Only focused on the topic that addresses his dick and not the emotions. Not that that was a bad thing…it’s usually how I liked to assess situations. With my pussy. Not my dick.
"Yeah, I do."
Clint rubs a big hang down the back of his buzz cut. "Well...that's...uh, good I guess."
I think he might be blushing. Damn he's cute. And sexy. Did I mention that I can still see some dirt dusting his arms from where he rubbed them on home plate? It makes my insides turn to mush just thinking about those thick, dirty arms holding me down on a mattress.
Our eyes catch, and we can both tell what the other is thinking. Fantasizing about. Sex. Between us.
All of the blood in my body rushes straight to my clit, the pulsing and throbbing creating a warm buzz between my legs. I shift them to try and alleviate some of the pressure. Fuck me. All that does is create friction that causes me to stifle a moan.
Clint's eyes have gone indigo with lust. It makes my lower half flush, and I'm even more acutely aware of how hard my clit is throbbing. I know he will never make the first move. I didn't expect him to. I've been thinking about how to play this game for three days. Because Clint may play his baseball games, but we're on my turf right now. Hook ups. Friends with benefits. And I rule this league.
"We could do something about that, you know."
I can see his sharp intake of breath. He knows exactly what I mean by my words. "Do something about what?"
"Don't play dumb, please. Honesty, remember? That's the only way this works. We can fix your situation. I can take your v-card. We can perform the horizontal hula. Call it whatever you want, but you know we both want this."
Clint is silent for a minute. I know what he's thinking. His cock says yes, but his brain..."But we're friends, Kels. I want to fuck you, you don’t know how badly I want that right now. But this could also fuck everything up.”
I've thought this one over too. "That's exactly why this could be great. Ever hear of friends with benefits? We get to be best friends, but can also fuck like bunnies. Mutual satisfaction, buddy. And then we can go watch Law & Order on the couch and eat Doritos."
Clint's eyes go from narrow to thinking. I can see I'm wearing him down. Taking a couple of steps forward, I cross the alley to stand in front of him.
"I know you haven't been able to stop thinking about that kiss either. About how much chemistry there is between us. Be my benefit buddy?" I say this quietly, almost coaxing him to give it up already and let this happen.
He bites his lip and sighs. I can see the confliction in his beautiful, sapphire eyes, but I also see the need in them. The desire. I know I've got him. Looks like this girl will be going on vacation after all.
5
&n
bsp; Clint
This is such a horrible idea. This is going to end so badly. I'm a fucking idiot.
My brain is shouting at me, filling my head with all of the things that should make me stop right before I fist Kelsey's hair in my hands and devour her lips.
And then there is radio silence. Because when I'm consuming her, when there is nothing around but her skin and taste and smell, I don't think straight. I can't. It’s not possible.
Which is why this is all happening in the first place. I've tried to keep my goddamn distance. Tried like hell to avoid her, to be non-existent inside the walls of my house. I've bled my hands raw digging my fingernails into them when I start to think about that kiss. And my dick. Its chafed and raw in places no man should ever be. I’ve come so much in the last three days that my balls are begging for a break.
But then she had to go and drag me into this fucking alley. She had to prod the beast. Had to stand there, looking so cute and sassy, handing me my ass in the form of her complimenting my virginity. She stumped me. Left me speechless. How could I resist when she was asking me to be her fuck buddy?
I'm in so much trouble. But this feels too good. She's too good. This is all I've wanted for the last two years and Kelsey just handed it to me on a silver platter. I'm only human. A very weak, male human, but...you get it.
I push my tongue past her teeth and explore the soft skin inside her mouth. Each time our tongues connect, a jolt of lust hits me square between the balls. I was already hard before she even walked over here; now I'm like a steel pipe. My cock could cut a diamond in half I'm so ready for her.
Kelsey pushes the hem of my shirt up and starts to assault my abs with her tiny hands. I suck in, still not used to there not being a pot belly under my button up. She rakes her short black-painted nails across my skin, and I swear I could come just from that contact. I don't stop kissing her for one millisecond. It feels like days we stand in that alleyway groping each other and making out.
The soft strands of her vibrant hair under my fingers just adds to the amped up feeling coursing through my body. I want to feel all of her, every minute of the day. Before I know what's happening, I feel Kelsey flick the button on my jeans and drag the zipper down.
My mind fuzzes out for a minute and I'm trying so hard not to blow my load like a seventh grader watching his first clip of porn. But then I realize where we are.
"Stop." My voice is raspy and gruff. It might be the hardest thing I've ever had to do to pull her hand away from the zipper of my jeans. "Not here."
Kelsey's hazel eyes fill with understanding. "Right. Sex in public. We'll work up to that. Um...okay, where do we go then?"
I have to grit my teeth to stop imagining me taking Kelsey up against this wall, where anyone could see us. But I want my time with her. Alone. It might be the only time I get. The first and the last. I'm not letting anyone in on this show.
"My car. I'll drive us home."
It struck me that I didn't know when I'd started referring to my house as her's too. But it was home, with her there. We half run to my junky old SUV. The fender is almost on the ground from how much weight I used to load into this thing, and the rust stains stand out in the peeling green paint. The heat of embarrassment burns the back of my neck, as it usually does whenever Kelsey rides in my car. She's used to chauffeured limos and first class. I'm not in the same upper crust almost all of my friends reside in. This is as high as my lap of luxury goes.
I turn the engine over and thank god when it starts, petting the steering wheel in a silent thank you. I'm out of Sammy's parking lot so fast that I'm afraid I might have hit a random bystander, but all thoughts go to shit when Kelsey slides her hand into my lap and starts kneading the inside of my thigh.
I grip the steering wheel until I can't feel my hands. "Roo, you have to stop."
She giggles from the passenger seat. "Isn't it a little weird to refer to me as a small kangaroo when you're about to stick your dick in me?"
I choke. "Jesus, Kels. A little blunt, yeah?"
"What? That is what we're doing. And if all goes right, we're going to get you really good at it before the night ends."
My tool gives a jump from where he's pushing against my still undone zipper. But now that her hands aren't on me, I have a moment to think straight.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
The question hangs in the air while I think about all of the things that will go wrong. We have a friendship, a good one. This will surely ruin it. Kelsey doesn't do relationships. She never has, and I'm not dumb enough to think I could use this as leverage to start one with her. This isn't going to go anywhere, except possibly my bed or hers a couple of times.
And the best reason not to do this. She is definitely going to rip my aching heart of my chest and obliterate it.
"Oh stop being such a nice guy, Clint. You don't have to work for this. Believe me, it’s already a sure thing. Sex is fun. Don't overthink this, just go with the flow." Kelsey interrupts my thoughts with her number one motto.
As I pull my car into the gravel driveway of our house, she's already unbuckling her seat belt. "Okay, your bed or mine?"
I don't even give my brain time to process all of the horrible ways this will end. I take her advice, and try to channel her gypsy ways. "Mine."
We're out of the car in a flash, and I'm silently praying that I know what to do when we reach my room. Should I take it slow, does she like it fast? Will I be able to get her bra off?
All of the sexual experience I have comes from porn and amounts to about squat. Those people are always half naked anyway when they start, and it’s always so great and then he's coming on her face. I'm a fool if I think this will be as easy and successful.
Kelsey bounds up the front porch stairs and throws open the shabby door to our rundown college house. Good thing none of my housemates are home to hear this.
I get the door closed and put a steadying hand on the wall. Inhale. Exhale. Okay, I'm ready.
I turn around and it feels like my lungs have been extracted from my body. Kelsey is undressing in the middle of the living room. The tiny crop top she had on is discarded on the floor, and she's starting to unbutton her tight black jeans. Her skin is the color of fresh peaches and looks just as juicy and soft. The bangle of bracelets she wears are clanging together as she races to get the garments off her body. She's so vibrant and alive. I can't take my eyes off of her.
"Let me do that." I don't know where that came from. I'm usually not that smooth. It surprises her, and I can see earnest heat in her eyes for the first time since we started this. I've shocked and excited her. I want to do it again.
I cross the room to her, my pants sagging as I walk. I almost forgot about my half open zipper. I would have forgotten completely if I couldn't feel the draft of air taunting my scolding hot hard on. I try to put my needs to the back of my head. I know once I'm inside of her I'll probably last about .5 seconds. I want to at least make her feel good beforehand. If I'm even capable of that. Again, only material I can reference is porn. Why did I have to be a virgin when Kelsey let me into her pants?
We stand entwined in the middle of our rank living room. I scale my hands up and down her petite curvy back, feeling her creamy skin under my rough fingers. She laps at my tongue and bites at my lips. I can feel her getting antsy, wanting to speed this up. And while it feels good, and my cock and I are more than into it, I know it’s probably what she's used to.
I step back and drop my arms from her, hating that I need to lose contact with all of that milky flesh. "Slow down."
I take her hands in mine and start to walk backward toward my bedroom. "I want to take my time with you."
Kelsey smiles but her eyes go wide. I've surprised her again. I think she likes this intimate, almost dirty way of talking. I'm determined to keep shocking her in whatever way I can. It might be the only thing I have going for me.
I turn my bedside lamp on but keep the overhead lights off as we enter my room.
My king size bed is one of the only pieces of furniture in the room, outfitted with a plain white down comforter. My desk has books and papers stacked neatly on its top, the hamper in the corner is half full but doesn't smell too bad. The closet doors are closed, but inside I know my plain t-shirts and baseball uniforms are all hung in an orderly fashion. The only piece of artwork or personal clutter is a picture sitting on the desk of my parents on their wedding day. They both look young, vibrant and alive. Healthy and happy.
People take for granted their own space, their own room. They live like pigs because it’s just another place to them. It’s not to me.
Now that we're in here, I suddenly get shy and anxious. The old fears come back, about what if I'm bad at this or bad at that.
But of course, Kelsey being Kelsey, she doesn't allow me time for that.
Her feisty hands push me back onto the mattress, where I land with a soft thud on my back. My jeans slide a bit further down my legs, and they're now hanging just above my extremely hard dick. If she pulled on them a little more, I'd spring free in all of my hard, virgin glory. The thought makes me dizzy with lust.
And then she's crawling up me, her small frame scaling my large one. When she comes to rest on me in exactly the way I need and want - straddling me and grinding down so I can almost feel the wet heat trapped beneath the jeans she still wears - I let out a growl. Even if she just let me sit like this all night I would be in heaven.
I palm her back, almost filling the entire expanse of skin with just my one hand. If I didn't know just how much of a spitfire she was, I’m almost afraid I’ll break her.
Fisting my other hand in Kelsey's short silky tendrils, I pull her face down to me and capture her lips, plucking them with my own. She starts bucking against me as we get more frantic in our make out. Each time she presses down on that certain spot on the head of my dick, covered by my plaid boxers, I see stars in front of my closed lids.
Catching to Win (Over the Fence #3) Page 5
