by Lainey Davis
She waves her hand around. “All of this. Love. Success. Rowing. Just all of it.”
“Of course you have all these things, baby. You earned all these things.” I’m starting to freak out a little that she hasn’t said anything specifically about loving me back, when she bites my neck.
“I love you, Tyrion Stag.” And then she kisses me, soft and tender, hungry and longing. Eventually I realize some of the cheering and wolf-whistling I hear is Ashley and Tina and the other rowers standing around waiting to congratulate Juniper. Guess the cat is out of the bag about us being together. Good, I think, and kiss her even harder.
Derrick has to peel Juniper out of my arms for the award ceremony and I cheer louder than anyone when they slip that medal around her neck. Some old codger takes the microphone and announces that Juniper’s time was the fastest on record for that race length, and he’s thrilled to offer her a spot on the women’s national team. “I’ll have you know I raced with your father in Montreal in 1976,” he says, pumping her hand. “It will be my honor and my pleasure to serve on your coaching staff as we prepare for Tokyo next year.”
When Juniper finishes hugging everyone and crying, I tug her over to my rental car. I’ve had about all I can stand of looking at her in spandex race gear. I need to get her naked, pronto.
She sits back in her seat, looking so content as I speed to my hotel. I park in a screech of tires. She squeaks when I jump out, pull her door open, and lift her out of the car. I toss her over one shoulder and she starts smacking my ass while I walk to my room. “Ty, put me down. People can see!”
“Baby, I don’t give a shit who can see. I need you and I need you now.”
I slide the key card into the slot and see the green light I’ve been waiting for. I stride over to the bed and ease Juniper onto it as I’m peeling off my shorts.
She shakes her head at me, laughing. “We don’t have to hide anymore, baby,” I say, stepping out of my boxers. I’m naked in front of her, and she’s still fully dressed in her uniform.
“What do you mean we don’t have to hide? What did you do?” She crawls back, like she's trying to get away from me.
“I talked to my brother and I told him I love you and you’re not my lawyer anymore,” I say, crawling onto the bed after her. My dick is so hard it’s lying up against my stomach, and I see her look at it, licking those luscious lips of hers.
“I was going to talk to him on Monday,” she whispers. When I finally reach her, I start licking the hollow of her throat, kissing her shoulder.
“Mmmhmm,” I moan. “More kissing, less talking about my brother.” This gets a giggle from her, and she starts to peel off her spandex tank top. I help her out with the little shorts and ease her down so she’s lying back on the bed.
"Ty, I'm all sweaty and gross," she says, but doesn't really make an effort to move.
"You taste amazing," I say, licking the salty skin of one collarbone. Just thinking of her working so hard today, that determined look on her face, is enough to drive me wild with want.
I nestle in between her legs, tickling her stomach with the medal she left on. I brush the cool metal across a pert nipple, flicking the other one with my tongue until Juniper begins to moan. “I’ve missed you, baby,” I say, dragging my tongue around each nipple while she starts to writhe beneath my chest. Her nipples feel so good against my skin.
She reaches down and finds my cock, and a groan escapes my throat. Her hand feels so good wrapped around my shaft. I’m lost in the sensation and I don’t fully notice what Juniper is doing until I realize she has me lined up against her hot entrance. Bare.
I raise an eyebrow at her, questioning.
She pulls me down by the shoulders. “I read those articles you sent me,” she says, now licking my chest in all the ways I’d been licking her a few minutes ago. “I’m on the pill.”
My animal brain takes over with those words, and I waste no time sinking inside her. “Holy fuck this feels good,” I practically grunt. Her pussy is so wet, so tight and smooth against my skin. “Juniper!”
She wraps those long legs around me, her heels driving me deeper into her body, pressed into my ass cheeks. I’m about to lose control, but not before I get her there first. I brace myself on my forearms, angling my hips so my body rubs right up against her clit. I find the friction I know she needs when she drops her head back and starts screaming my name.
I fucking love how loud she is right now as I drive into her, nothing between us. Just me and Juniper Jones. I can feel it when her orgasm rips through her. She starts to spasm around my cock, her hips bucking wildly off the bed. “Fuck, baby, yes,” I shout, and then I’m with her.
I feel it start to spiral inside me and then my balls draw up tight. My release fires inside of her again and again, thick ropes of ecstasy. My dick twitches and finally rests, and I collapse on top of my lady, both of us heaving and gasping for breath.
“Ty, that was amazing,” she whispers.
“Mmm you’re telling me,” I say, tracing letters on her back as I pull her against my chest. “I’m never letting you go, you know.”
She nods. “I’m ok with that.”
Epilogue
Tokyo, Summer 2020
TY
"Ty, baby, everyone here is flipping the fuck out,” Matty yells into my cell. I’m about to hang up on him, but Juniper’s race start is delayed for wind so I figure I’ll let him blow off some steam. The Fury made it to the Stanley Cup playoffs again, and I’m missing a whole slew of television appearances and parades and shit, to be here with Juniper.
Matty is talking up a blue streak and eventually I cut him off. “Look, if you think I’m going to miss watching my girl compete in the Olympics you’re crazy. Take it up with my lawyer.” He gasps, inhaling for another tirade, but I hang up on him. Ben will sort it all out. So what if I have to pay a penalty. Being here for Juniper is worth way more than any bonus pay.
My phone rings again, and I see it’s my sister-in-law. “Hey, Alice, what’s up?” I can hear the baby crying in the background and it sounds like she’s pacing and trying to shush him to get him to calm down.
“Tim said it looks like Juniper's race is delayed. Just wondering if you knew how long? It’s past bedtime here, but we all stayed up…”
“It looks like they’re getting everything set up. I think the wind died down.”
I can hear my brother shout in the background. “Did he say it’s soon?”
“Yes, Timber, it’s soon!” I shout so loud that the other husbands and boyfriends all turn around to look at me. “Ok, fam, I gotta go. The Dutch are annoyed that I’m on the phone.” I roll my eyes and slide my phone into my pocket. I'm ready to behave, until the race starts anyway.
I try to sit calmly. Juniper has trained so hard for this moment. Everything at work is so rewarding for her now that she won all sorts of money and regulations for the women hockey players, and I got the Fury to all pose for some solidarity promo shots with their team. It’s been pretty amazing.
But Juniper is so disciplined with her sport, too. For me, the best thing about her training is how it helps me with my own game. I moved out of my grandma’s house soon after Juniper and I went public with our relationship. We got a bigger townhouse together, near where her old one was, so she would still be close enough to the boathouse to row before work.
It’s easy to keep up a good diet and conditioning routine when you’re doing it with the person you love and live with. She even comes to the weight room with me sometimes. Derrick might be sleeping with one of my trainers, but I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, Juniper and I are both fit as hell and peaking at just the right time. We push each other to be better. I need her, and I want to be there for her in every way she needs me.
A hush rolls over the crowd as the race finally gets started. It’s a long course and there’s no way to see the start from here, so they’ve got the race broadcasted on a giant screen. I know this won’t be another New Haven where Juniper wins by like fi
ve boat lengths. These women are the best in the world, but they’ve never raced my Junebug. I wish her father could see her now as she sits at the start line, face determined. The camera zooms in on her in her USA gear and my heart swells with pride.
I hear the gun and I hear the crowd around me, but I don’t look away from Juniper on the monitor. The camera stays close with her, because she holds the lead from the very beginning. I can see the French boat creeping up on her, and I start to scream for her to dig deep, even though she is too far away to hear me. And dig she does. Juniper Jones comes into view almost a full length ahead of her next competitors.
When she finally glides across the finish, I can see all the happiness in the world streaming from her face with her tears. My girl just won an Olympic gold medal.
“Yes!” I jump in the air and start trying to give high fives to my European seat mates, who must not celebrate that way because they have no idea what I’m doing.
I start to climb down the bleachers and make my way toward Juniper. I know in my heart I’m going to marry this woman. I’m not going to ask her today, though. This is about her. About her victory, her moment. I’m here to support her.
She finds me up in the crowd and we make our way toward each other. She lays a kiss on me that just about knocks me back, and I know there’s no other place in the world I’d rather be than right here with her.
The End
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He's her research partner…
but what happens if they learn more than they bargained for?
"All right, folks. Here comes your least favorite part of the semester. Research projects." There is a collective groan and Matt holds out his hands. "With partners. I know, I know. It's awful. But this is life." As people begin to complain, Matt continues. "There isn't a career in statistics that will not involve collaborative research. And there isn't a research project you'll encounter in life where you won't want to fire someone on your project team."
Matt pulls out a jar of slips of paper. He makes a joke about the odds being in our favor, and starts to pull out pairs of names. I don't recognize anyone in this class, so I can't do anything other than calculate the probability of my being partnered with Talon…until I hear him call my name. "Serena Sanders?" I raise my hand. He nods. "Let's see. You'll be working with…" there's a pause as he rummages in his jar of names. And of course, he says, "Talon Kelly. Well, you're already sitting near each other, so at least you don't have to move!"
A few minutes later, the pairs are assigned and we are turned loose to exchange contact information and make a plan for the research project. I sigh and start smoothing out my hair. It's long and straight, and I usually keep it back in a ponytail while I'm working, but today I wore it down. I wanted to look my best, so I actually blew it dry this morning.
I realize how stupid that is, to get all dolled up for my stats professor, but I can't help it. I'm totally starstruck. I sigh and scoop up my notebook, turning around to face Talon, who is still sitting sprawled in his chair, bulging arms crossed across his chest that seems to be bursting out of his tight SCU t-shirt.
Neither of us says anything for a bit, but eventually he says, "you going to give me your phone number? Invite me back to your place to research, baby?" He winks.
"Jesus, Talon. Does this crap actually work for you? You think I'm going to sleep with you and then do the entire research project myself?"
He laughs. "I know you're going to sleep with me, baby. I've seen you looking at the Claw."
I start stuffing my books back into my bag and huff at him. "You're referring to yourself in the third person now, is that it? Of course I'm looking at you, Talon. You're limping around like the bionic man. You don't exactly blend in."
He reaches out for my arm, his fingertips surprisingly soft on my skin below my own SCU t-shirt. "All right, all right. I'll grant you that. Hey. Why do you look familiar?" He furrows his brow while he looks at me. "Did we already sleep together? Is that it? Is that why you're so huffy?"
"You are absolutely disgusting, Talon Kelly. No. I have not slept with you." I rip a sheet out of my notebook and write down my cell number and email address, and slam it into his chest. "Get in touch when you're ready to get serious about this project. This class is important to me."
He chuckles softly and looks at my info. I hate that I keep staring at the blond-streaked curls sticking out from his backward ball-cap. His hair grows in tight ringlets that I've seen on the jumbo-tron, stuck to his forehead with sweat when he pulls his helmet off during games. I remind myself that nobody that good looking is ever going to be a kind person. I storm out of class before it's over.
I'm halfway back to my apartment before I realize I've missed the discussion and homework assignments.
~~~
"Oh, are you awake, Sanders?" A deep voice comes from the doorway. Talon walks into the room and I instinctively pull the covers up to my chin. He looks completely normal, apart from the knee brace. Meanwhile, I feel like I got hit by a truck. "Hey, easy. I'm not going to jump your bones. But I do have to go soon. I've got PT in a little while." He hands me a bottle of water from the pocket of his sweatpants and crutches over to the bed.
I ask him, "What happened last night? I…got carried away."
He laughs at this. "You sure did! I never saw anything like it. Usually, drunk girls are desperate to get into my bed. You fought me pretty hard."
I drink the water, waiting for him to explain. He starts to tell me how he ran into Alissa and me at the bar after I'd had half a pitcher of margaritas. He and his roommates had come in for a six-pack, and I'd begun shouting at him. "You were blaming me for whatever it was that led you to your sorry state," Talon says, still laughing. "Alissa invited you both up to the apartment to watch Spaceballs with us. She and Smith excused themselves to his bedroom and, well…"
"Talon Kelly, if you tell me you took advantage of me while I was blackout drunk, I swear to God--"
"What? Fuck no." He seems really insulted, and explains that I'd spilled nacho cheese all over my clothes during the movie. "I threw your stuff in the wash and gave you my shirt, gave you my damn bed, and slept on the couch. Knee brace and all."
I feel my flush return. As if to drive home his point, he begins to unwrap something he had hanging from one of his crutches--a grocery bag with my jeans and shirt inside. I feel sheepish, and look down. "Thank you," I say, my voice soft as I try to hide behind my hair.
Talon reaches a hand forward and brushes my hair aside, and I am taken aback by the kindness of his gesture as much as the rush of heat I feel where his skin touched my face. His blue eyes go dark as he asks, "What had you so worked up yesterday?"
I exhale and shake my head. "It's too humiliating."
"What? More humiliating than spilling nacho cheese all over yourself when you could have been banging the quarterback?"
I throw the empty water bottle at his chest and pull the covers over my head. He persists. "Hey, Serena, I am fresh from surgery and slept on a sofa a foot shorter than me. You owe me your tale of woe."
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