The Jock and the Dreamer

by Shana Vanterpool

  By the time I had my fill, she was a sight. Naked body spread apart on the bed like an offering. Her legs quivered. Her lips were swollen, and I knew she’d been biting them the entire time. Her cheeks were permanently flushed. She was by far the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. My cock strained against my zipper. I knew if I didn’t come at least once I’d ruin this. And it couldn’t be inside of her like I wanted to do.

  Her eyes managed to open and flitted up to meet mine. I reached down and grabbed her hand, settling it on my hard on. She gave me a lazy, naughty smile. After two tries, she sat up.

  I watched in a daze as she worked on my zipper and buckle. She reached inside and wrapped her fingers around my throbbing cock, pulling it free. She gasped a little, eyes and mouth widening. I took advantage of her state and grabbed my shaft, nestling the tip of my cock between her swollen, love-bitten lips. She didn’t hesitate. She sucked me immediately into her mouth.

  And stole my soul out from under me.

  She sucked me the way I ate her. Without control and with every ounce of hunger I used to feast on her. Her tongue skimmed my length as her lips drew me deep into her throat.

  “I want to come on your back,” I groaned, not giving a shit what she thought of that.

  But she rolled her eyes, popping me out of her mouth. “They’re just dimples. What is it with guys?”

  “Has anyone else done that?” I held her gaze.

  “No,” she promised, flicking her tongue over my tip as we shared eye contact.

  “Turn around,” I ordered gruffly.

  She kissed my cock and gave me her eyes. “Yes, Wade.” She got on her hands and knees in front of me, arching her back and giving me those dimples.

  I marked her with my load, coming so hard I wasn’t sure if it was me growling or if someone had a wild animal in the next room. I collapsed onto the bed on my back, trying to catch my breath.

  She collapsed onto her stomach beside me, her head falling on my arm.

  I was in a haze. I felt like I’d had a barrel of whiskey and a bag of drugs. So completely detached from reality I wondered what the hell I had ever done seeking it out. My heart didn’t ache. My soul wasn’t broken. I couldn’t think about anyone or anything but Esmaie Erickson. My chest constricted.

  It had been a painfully long time since I had been to this place. I hadn’t thought I’d ever get it back.

  I reached around clumsily for her hand. When I found it, she wrapped our fingers together.

  We didn’t get back on the road until the sun was setting. We spent the afternoon floating, dozing off and clasping hands. I got up first, showered again and redressed, and then ran across the road for the bar and restaurant. I got us some takeout and we ate in bed, her naked, me trying not to toss my steak aside and eat her instead.

  We didn’t talk for hours. We didn’t need to. The silence didn’t feel oppressive. It didn’t feel mean. It was the first time for me that my brain could withstand being in my head for once, and maybe it was the same for her. The only sounds were of the road.

  We didn’t speak until we got into Wyoming.

  “I’m never going back to Iowa,” she said.

  Frankly, I didn’t blame her for not wanting to return. I hadn’t been there because I wanted to be, I’d been there to run, and so had she. “You’re from there, right?”

  “Lake City.”

  “How far is that from school?”

  “Four hours.”

  She hadn’t escaped far. I tried to wrap my brain around that. Maybe deep down inside her parents were a sort of messed up safety net. Or maybe, she’d stuck around because she was hoping they’d do the same. “Why didn’t you go further away?”

  “I don’t know,” she sighed, playing with her hair. She twirled it end over end around her finger. “They’re all I know. But they don’t even care.”

  “They care, they’re just selfish, by the sounds of it. Your mother was probably a handful, and your dad made a choice. He made the wrong one, of course, to punish you for not being sick, whether that had been his intention or not, that’s what he did.”

  “How are your folks? Do you guys get along?”

  “We used to be like this.” I wrapped my index and middle fingers together. “After Sab, I pulled away from everyone except Joanna. She was the only one who didn’t expect me to be the same. She let me rot. I needed that. Mom and Dad didn’t. I ran to give them a break from me and the other way around.”

  “How often do you talk to them?”

  I thought of the dozens of missed calls I used to ignore when I went to college. Over the years, those calls had dwindled. They barely bothered anymore. I knew that had been what I wanted, to be left alone, but it hurt that they’d let me push them away. “Once a month, maybe. I keep myself really busy.”

  “What about Joanna?”

  “The same. She’s in college now, too. Sophomore at UCLA.” I smiled bitterly. “She got the life I was supposed to get. Sport scholarship, happiness, golden sunshine. I’m not jealous of her, I promise, I’m just—”

  “You don’t have to explain. Maybe we can go visit her?”

  My heart did this ridiculous pitter patter in my chest at the prospect of seeing my little sister. I hadn’t been back home since Christmas last year, and it had been a disaster. Sab’s parents were there. The pain had been too much. “Really?”

  “Of course. Maybe your parents, too, if you want to.”

  I couldn’t exactly stop in and see Joanna without seeing them, they’d have a field day. “I want to see my sister. I have to stop by my folk’s place.” My plans shifted. “If we’re heading that way, why don’t we just change courses and make LA our destination? This way you can actually get in the water. You’ll love the beaches in SoCal.” I could already feel the sun. “I mean, if you want to.”

  “I want to.”

  I took a deep breath, reaching over to touch one of the feathers in the dreamcatcher. She’d strung it up on my mirror; when the sun hit it, the feathers glowed. “Thank you, Esmaie.” I looked over at her, catching her eyes for a second.

  “For what?” she asked.

  For taking me home. I smiled and winked. “For not cussing me out for ripping your underwear.”

  She laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

  I hoped. And hoped. And hoped.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Esmaie

  Driving to California sounded a lot easier than it ended up being.

  For one, gas got more expensive each state we crossed, and we weren’t flushed. For another, reception was non-existent for hundreds of miles, and reading the maps we got at the gas stations was like reading ancient Hebrew. We ate fast food as we drove that somehow always tasted amazing, and we switched between us both for driving, so we could save money on hotels. Sometimes, he held my hand as he drove. Other times, I held his. We talked about his sister and family, his life at home. He’d stopped mentioning Sabrina more and more, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  Either he was doing it for him, which I didn’t fully believe. Or he was doing it for me, which I didn’t like. I never wanted to push her out of the picture. She was a huge part of his life and always would be.

  Shoving memories down to preserve right now would backfire on us both.

  Eighteen-hundred miles since we’d left Iowa, we made it to Los Angeles. The hustle and bustle were instantly new to me. The honking, the rudeness—there was even a thick layer of smog over the entire city that made the high-rise buildings look like kings towering over their land.

  “Beverly Hills?” I gasped, when he drove past the black and gold sign.

  “Don’t sound too impressed. Our place is really old. It was my grandparent’s first. Actually, the whole neighborhood is old. It was a cool place to grow up in, though. Drive a mile in any direction and the city comes back to you, but on our street, it was always the same.”

  He made a few turn offs, and then he drove past a street bordered by two large whi
te stone pillars, and it was like we’d entered into a new world. Huge trees lined the road, their buds white and flowing into the street. The houses were large, not as massive as I pictured. Winding driveways full of cars that were in fact expensive. The sky was clear blue, and the sun shone brightly onto the entire street.

  Wade had said that he and Sabrina lived across from each other his whole life. I tried not to look over because he hadn’t. Not once. His eyes stayed straight as he pulled up to the iron gates out front. He keyed in a code and it opened, and even when he turned left, and it would have been so easy to look across the street, he didn’t.

  He pulled out his phone and opened his contacts, pressing SEND with a shaking thumb. He put it on speaker phone. His phone rang four times before someone answered.

  “My secretary told me my son was calling. I didn’t believe her.”

  Wade stared at the phone and didn’t look up at all. “You’re at work?”

  “That’s where I usually am between nine to five. Is something wrong?”

  Wade pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes. “Where’s Mom?”

  “I think she had a lunch meeting with a client. Not entirely sure where she is at this precise moment. Is that a problem?”

  There was such animosity coming from his father. Judging by the pinch between Wade’s eyes, he’d anticipated it.

  “Never mind.” Wade hung up and quickly dialed someone else. It rang only twice before a singsong voice clicked on.

  “Wade Wright, what are you calling me for?”

  His frustration dissipated, and he smiled. “How the hell do you manage to live at home still?”

  There was heavy breathing on her end and a whistle. “Mom and Dad love me, that’s why. You’re the son that abandoned them and blah blah blah. I don’t agree of course, but that’s how they feel. Why are you asking me that?”

  “Because I’m parked out front at home.”

  She paused, and then screamed. “Don’t play with me. Are you really here? Wait, why are you here? What’s wrong?” she screeched.

  Wade leaned back, digging his finger in his ear. “You’re going to bust my eardrums, Jo. Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Then why are you home?”

  He glanced at me and then returned his eyes to the phone. “Can’t I come home? I wanted to see you.”

  She snorted. “Shove it up your butt, Wade. What’s going on?” Her voice softened. “Are things too hard?”

  “I dropped in for a visit. If you’re not down for it, fine. I’ll get a hotel room and take off in the morning.”

  She sighed loudly, blowing hot air. “Don’t mope. It’s not attractive. Of course, I want to see you, Wade. It’s just weird. You never come home unless someone forces you, and that usually takes weeks of hounding to accomplish. For you just to pop in is giving me a case of the worries.”

  He blew out a breath twice as large as hers. “I’ll tell you when I see you. You free?”

  “I’m on the court. We have double practices today. I have class for the next two hours and then another practice. We have a game on Saturday. Hey! You think you’ll be in town long enough to go? That would be so cool!”

  Wade cracked a smile and looked over at me, brow raised. I nodded. “We’d love to.”

  “We? Who’s we? Oh… Wade. Please tell me you’re here with a girl. I will literally lose it!”

  He cringed. “Don’t lose anything. What time are you going to be free?”

  “Six-ish. Definitely by seven. I can shower in the locker room, cut back time. Where do you want to meet?”

  “I’ll text you.”

  “Okay. Wade?”

  “Huh?”

  “Mom and Dad love you. They’re hard asses, that’s all. They don’t know how to say that they miss you. So they’re passive aggressive and—”

  “I’ll text,” he cut her off, ending the call. “I can’t stay here for much longer, Es.” His hands shook as he put his phone back in the cup holder. “Let’s grab some lunch and then hit up the beach.”

  I took his shaking hand and held on to it, rubbing his palm. “I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”

  He brightened. “We’ll buy one.”

  Instead of following his driveway out, and turning left, which would put his gaze directly in the path of the house across the street, he backed out and turned around, so he never had to look at all. He hadn’t meant to come here. He’d been too caught up in getting here to truly think about what he was coming home to.

  All because I wanted to go to the freaking beach. I felt so guilty.

  I held his hand tighter, only letting it go when he stopped at a clothing store. It was primarily catering to the beach goers. Bathing suits, flip-flops, hats, and accessories.

  “Eh eh eh,” he reprimanded, knocking my hand away when I reached for a one-piece. “None of that shit. I’ll pick. What size are you?”

  I told him, trying not to laugh at how serious his face was rummaging around on the rack. “Nothing too skimpy.”

  He snorted, plucking one down. “Don’t you think I know? I’m not as forgiving as the last time you wore one in front of everyone.” He turned away, but not before I saw the flare of anger dance in his eyes. “I’ll rip their eyes out of their heads.”

  Hmm. Jealous Wade was even hotter than I thought. My legs still turned to jelly when I thought of our time together in the hotel. The intensive and erotic motions of his tongue on my sex. The deep guttural moans emanating from his chest as he feasted on me. I’d never had my pleasure wrapped around someone else’s. What I felt he felt and what he felt I felt, the pleasure in that room had been suffocating and oppressive, bearing down on us and stealing our breaths. I’d never had a sexual experience like it before and feared the day I did.

  “I like this one. The pink on your skin will look amazing.” He held it up to me, catching the attention of a group of girls on our right.

  They pointed at us and giggled, the tallest one snickering into her hand.

  I blushed, trying to pull it down. “Shut up, please,” I whispered.

  “Why?” He looked over his shoulder, and then back at me. “Ignore them. They’re like twelve. They won’t fill these out until they can get plastic surgery, like everyone else in this town. You’re already perfect. Get it.” He draped it over his shoulder. “Help me pick a pair of shorts.”

  I took only a second to catch my breath before I caught up to him.

  I stuck close to his side, kissing his shoulder as he sifted through the board shorts. My body was constantly awake around him. My skin tingled where he touched. My heart couldn’t wait to stutter. My tongue knew how delicious he tasted and all she wanted was to savor him. I slid my tongue up his neck, biting down gently.

  He looked over his shoulder at me. “You need help trying that on?” His gaze flicked to the dressing rooms.

  Three walls, privacy; my thighs squeezed together. I wanted to take his mind off everything else and go to that place that only existed when we were together, touch-to-touch. “I think I can manage to put it on myself.”

  He pressed his tongue to his cheek and then grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. He put his mouth over my ear. “Get in that fucking dressing room right now and take every single article of clothing you’re wearing off. Or this entire store is going to hear you come.”

  My pussy clenched, and my panties were undoubtedly wet. He was so bossy when he was horny. I had to admit I liked it. I gave him my eyes. “Yes, Wade.” He looked around before giving my ass a spank.

  I took the bikini and picked the dressing room far from the rest. I turned my back to the mirror and slowly disrobed. Fully naked, I stood there, panting. It felt like it took him forever to come in. He slipped in easily, his eyes a lethal shade of blue. He locked the dressing room door and hung up his shorts, all business.

  “Come here.” He pointed to the spot in front of the mirror.

  I went to stand there. I tried to face him, but he shook his head, pointing
at the glass. I faced that instead, catching his eyes in the mirror. He settled his hands on my waist and kissed my temple, keeping eye contact as he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t make a sound, and don’t lose eye contact with me in the mirror. If you do either I’ll stop. You won’t want me to stop, will you?”

  I shook my head, my breathing heavy.

  He gave me no more warning than that. Holding my gaze, his hands moved to cup my breasts. It was sublimely erotic. To see the lust in his eyes, to know that everything we were doing was showcased in a single pane of glass. It was like someone else was watching as he pinched both my nipples, flooding my sex with warmth.

  “Your pupils are dilated,” he noted, massaging my breasts and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

  “So are yours,” I breathed.

  “Studies have shown that our pupils dilate when we look at someone we love.” He slid his hand down my stomach and over my mound. “Interesting,” he said, like it was nothing. “Don’t you think?”

  Oh shit. I wanted to close my eyes, melt into his touch. But there was no way I’d risk him stopping, not when he was so close… oh. His fingers parted my slick mound, making a slow up and down motion. “Yes…”

  “Your eyes are hypnotizing,” he whispered just as he pressed down on my clit.

  I whimpered looking into his eyes, my body trembling. I wanted to look in the mirror and close my eyes and keep them open—it was all too much.

  His fingers stopped circling my clit when my eyes strayed an inch from his. He clucked under his tongue and grabbed my chin with his fingers that were damp from me. “Keep your eyes on mine. Next time I won’t keep going.”

  I moaned, my bottom lip trembling. I clamped down on it, groaning unabashed when his fingers returned to my core.

  “You want to come?” he toyed with me.

  “Yes.”

  “You sound so sexy when you’re turned on.” He blinked, long and slow, as if he were containing himself. And then his eyes, ten times heavier than they were before, returned to mine. “Come on my fingers, Esmaie.”