“Char, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” I say as I wipe away her tears. She doesn’t speak, she just shakes her head. “What is it then, you’re crying, why?”
“I never thought my first time would be so wonderful, so special.”
“But why didn’t you tell me it was your first time? We could have done things differently so it wouldn’t hurt so badly.”
“You were wonderful, Zain. I couldn’t have wished for anything better or anyone more caring than you. Thank you. What was I going to say? Would it really have made a difference?”
I slowly pull out and Charlie winces a little. “Sorry.” I walk to the bathroom, warming a washcloth under the water and grabbing a towel before walking back into the bedroom. Charlie starts to sit up. “Lie back down and relax.” I start to wipe her thighs, then I wipe her sex making sure there isn’t too much blood. I then pat her dry and toss the towels into the hamper. I lie in bed next to Charlie and cover us up. I’m lying on my side as Charlie turns to do the same. I can’t stop looking at her, she is so beautiful. I run my fingers over her shoulders, down her arm and to her hand where I thread my fingers with hers. I unconsciously play with our hands, then I draw my eyes to hers.
“Char, you are so beautiful. What did I do to get so lucky?” I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask away,” I say.
“You said you were leaving soon. When are you planning on leaving?” She all of a sudden looks lost.
“At this point I’m not planning on leaving. If I hadn’t met you, yes, I would probably be leaving within the month.”
“Oh.”
She sits up in bed and leans against the headboard. “But why?”
“But why what?”
“What difference does it make if you met me or not if you were planning on leaving?”
“Are you saying you want me to leave, that all you wanted me for was to devirginize you?”
“No, I … I hadn’t thought that far ahead and the realization of you possibly leaving is coming back to me, and I guess I just want to be prepared for when you leave. I know you don’t do relationships. That was apparent from how Dylan was talking to you. I imagine that in a college town, you can have a new girl every night and not run out for a while, but if that’s what you’re looking for then I’ll have to pass. As you can tell, and I’m sorry I should have told you sooner, I get very emotionally involved with whoever I am with. I should have said something about that too, before this happened.” She motions with her finger, between us. “So if you are looking for that, just let me know now so I can leave with a little dignity left.”
I sit up and straddle her legs that are out in front of her. I take her face in my hands, caressing her exquisite cheekbones. “Char, I have no plans on leaving. My past is, well, my past. I didn’t get involved with you just to have a one-night stand. Believe me, if that were the case I wouldn’t have put my number in your phone, I wouldn’t have taken you to dinner, and I wouldn’t have spent my time fixing the lunch I fixed. Hell, Char, you wouldn’t see me again. But that’s not how I feel. I think you feel it too.” I run my thumb over her bottom lip again. “I don’t think you would have given yourself to me as freely as you did if you didn’t think there was something there. Let’s just go slow and see where it leads us.”
She starts to laugh. “You call what we did today slow? I was with Jesse for six months and I barely let him touch me.”
“Point taken. Well, let’s just get to know each other better.”
“So tell me about yourself, Zain. What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“Your favorite food?”
“This needs to go both ways. Whatever question you ask, you have to answer as well.”
“Okay, my favorite color is midnight blue, and my favorite food is mashed potatoes with cream cheese. Your turn.”
“Fried chicken.”
“I’m sorry about this afternoon and wrecking your wonderful lunch. I didn’t even get a chance to try it. I just got scared, I hadn’t felt those types of feelings before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”
“I think the thing we need to remember here is to talk to each other, open communication is what will help us. We need to trust each other.”
“Okay, I will try. You know I’ll be going to Bristol in a couple of weeks, right?”
“I vaguely remember hearing something about the races and a fundraiser.”
“I’ve never been into NASCAR, but it sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Stay the night with me.”
“What happened to take it slowly?”
“You’re going to be gone in a couple weeks for a whole weekend. I won’t get to see you, and I want to get my fill of you before you leave.”
We spend the night talking and making love and talking some more and making love again. It was great. I never thought I would be so comfortable with a woman, like I am with her. She told me about her family and her dreams and aspirations and I told her mine. It wasn’t that I was a trust fund brat, but my parents didn’t intend to have children. When I came along, they weren’t going to let it come between them and whatever they wanted to do. I was lucky—she could have aborted me so I didn’t wreck her figure, but it was another excuse for more plastic surgery. I don’t even know where they are right now, which is fine with me. Claire, my nanny, might not be my biological mother, but she’s more a mother to me than my real one.
We stay in bed most of the next day, only having to get up to take Char to practice in the afternoon. And when she’s finished, we come back here.
Dylan keeps calling. He’s a little bent that I haven’t made it to any of his parties at the Rugby house this week. But I know Char wouldn’t want to go, so I don’t want to go. All I want to do is be around Char. She makes me want more, I see clearer, she makes me think about the future, and that is something I haven’t allowed myself to think about it in a long time.
Chapter Nine
Charlie
THE NEXT COUPLE of weeks are more of the same; I have hardly seen the light of my dorm room. I heard some of the girls are talking about me not being a team player, because I don’t hang with them and go to parties.
I’ve been working my ass off in training and in weights, trying to prove that I can be a team player. I deserve a starting spot, not just because I work hard, but because I am good at my job and my job right now is softball.
I spend all my spare time with Zain; I don’t think I have ever been so happy. We leave tomorrow morning for Bristol. After practice, we stop by my room to pick up my clothes and toiletries that I will be taking with me to Bristol. Zain is going to drive me to the bus in the morning.
While in my dorm room, Brittney walks in and slithers over to Zain, hugging and rubbing all up on him. I can tell it irritates him too. This is one of the reasons I don’t hang with my teammates. I would never even consider rubbing up on a player’s man, let alone any man who is in a relationship. Can we say S.L.U.T.? At least that’s how she is acting.
We get back to Zain’s place. “I have to take a shower, practice was a killer today.”
“Can I wash your back?”
“Is that what you call it?” I look up at him and raise my eyebrows, letting out a little giggle. “I would love that.”
I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Zain is leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom watching me. I walk over to the clothes hamper, slip my flip-flops off, hook my thumbs on the waistband of my shorts. I slowly shimmy them down my legs and step out of them, tossing them into the hamper. I can hear Zain’s breathing getting louder and louder. I then take the hem of my tank and slowly pull it over my head, just leaving my sports bra on. With my back to him, I cross my arms in front of me and slowly pull my bra off over my head, accentuating my movements. Holding my bra with two fingers, I drop it to the floor without looking back. Swaying my hips, I walk into the bathroom and step into
the shower.
He must have ripped his clothes off as he ran, because it didn’t take him more than ten seconds to hit the shower. He slips in behind me. My eyes are closed as I let the hot water cascade over my finely toned skin, but I know he’s there, I sense him. Then I smell the body wash, coconut and vanilla. My hair is on the top of my head as I wash it. Zain places his warm hands on my shoulders, massaging and washing as he goes. Down my shoulders, up my neck, to my breasts where he gives them addition attention, rolling and pulling my nipples. He continues down my sides to my abdomen then my ass, and to my mound and between my legs. I rinse off my hair and body, then add conditioner.
I take the body wash, but I am facing Zain as I wash him. I start at the shoulder to his neck, his armpits, down his taut abs to his cock, where I give it the extra attention it deserves. I roll his balls as I stroke him, making him harder than he was. I let the water rinse him as I drop to my knees.
I continue to stroke him with a little twist of my wrist. Then I start to lick him before taking him into my mouth and flicking the sensitive part I found the first time I went down on him. His hips are moving and he’s moaning. He grabs my head, holding it as he fucks my mouth. I bare my teeth and I am rewarded with a deep growl, as his cock start to twitch. I know he’s close. I’m working him faster, sucking harder and flicking my tongue on his special spot, then I bare my teeth.
He lets out a feral yell, “Fuuuck, Char! Oh my God!” as I feel the first of his orgasm. I continue my ministration of him to prolong his orgasm as I swallow the essence of him down. He helps me stand after he’s finished. He cradles my face in his hands as I lick my lips. He kisses me, gently, lovingly. “I don’t think you can use the excuse of not having experience with the way you have gone down on me. You are amazing. I don’t know what you did, but my God, whatever it is you are great at it.”
He continues to kiss me, deeper, harder, and more passionate. It’s as if he is putting all his emotions and feelings into a single kiss. He lifts me and I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, holding him, loving him, showing him everything he is showing me. He flexes his hips and sinks into me. A moan surfaces from my chest as I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to me. At that moment he is my oxygen; his kiss, his body sustains me. I need nothing more than him.
He’s groaning and my legs start to shake. I feel the tightening in my core, a soft mewl escapes my lips as my hips move with his. He pushes me against the wall of the shower; hot water cascading over us, he pulls away from our kiss as my moans are continuously coming now from my open lips. He’s thrusting into me; he’s so long and hard. I feel him hitting my core. He places his thumb on my clit, circling it as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. He pulls it between his teeth and tongue and I explode. “Oh God! Oh God, Zain, Yes! Oh God Yes!”
“That’s it baby, it’s so fucking hot to watch you come for me, you’re so fucking sexy. Oh! God, Char, what you do to me. Oh God, Char, Oh!” And with a deep guttural growl, he comes hard again. I can feel it pulsate and it pushes me over again as I scream out his name one more time. My head falls to his shoulder, as my chest rises and falls in unison with Zain’s, as I try to catch my breath.
Then my post-coital glow comes to a screeching halt. “Shit! Shit! Fuck!”
“What’s wrong? What is it, Char?”
“We didn’t use protection. Fuck, I can’t believe I let myself get that careless. FUCK!”
I struggle and Zain puts me down. “I’m sorry, Char, I didn’t even think about it. I’m sorry.”
I get out of the shower. I don’t say anything to Zain. I can’t believe I was so stupid not us use something. I should have just gone on birth control after we got together, after the first time. I can’t believe I possibly wrecked my future for a few minutes of mind-blowing shower sex. “SHIT!”
I brush my hair, putting it in a messy bun, brush my teeth, and walk into the bedroom to get dressed. I sit on the sofa with my phone, checking dates to see when my last period was. I had started the week before I came here, so by all rights I should be starting in the next couple of days. I look online at different pregnancy calculators to see if any of them have me in the red zone. I take a deep breath. None of them shows that I would be, but until I start my period, I will be a basket case. Not something I want to be for my first game with the team.
I sit on the sofa looking at my phone, but not really looking at anything, when I realize I can’t be this careless again.
“I’m so sorry, Char. I just got … I’m sorry. Are you going to be okay?” He’s standing behind the sofa. He places his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them.
“Yes,” I say quietly, “I think I’ll be fine.” A tear runs down my cheek, and before I know it, I’m sobbing. Zain has me in his lap. My head in the crook of his neck, he’s rocking me, whispering his apologetic words in my ear.
It’s not just his fault, it’s mine too. No wonder there are so many pregnancies in the world if people get lost in their passion like that … the options for pregnancy, I can’t even think about.
I need to go to a clinic and get on birth control when I get back next week.
We don’t talk a lot the rest of the evening, I think because I’m so upset and he feels responsible. Just the shock of it all put me into a tailspin. I need to snap out of this funk, or I won’t be able to compete at my best tomorrow, and that is where Coach will really see me in action. I want to be a starter and that means I have to be good enough to take an upper classman’s spot. I have to focus and get my head back on straight. Even if I show enough heart, desire, and drive, that might get me a starting position to.
The next morning Zain takes me to the bus. We’re still not talking a lot. He kisses me goodbye and I get on the bus. I find a seat, put my headphones in, and turn on my iPod. I know I’m not being a team player, but this is a job, we don’t have to like each other or be besties to get the job done. What they are doing isn’t anything I want to be around. I have no desire to corrupt my body with alcohol or drugs, that’s not who I am.
I know my mom is concerned about my teammates as well—I told her what they were doing, and I know she is proud of me for staying true to my beliefs. She said Coach Nic, my batting coach, received a call from Coach Johnson asking why I wasn’t hanging with my teammate. Mom said she told Coach Nic why I didn’t feel comfortable with them. Coach Nic said he understood and was glad I wasn’t into partying.
The drive to Bristol will take several hours so I lean back, relax, and focus on the game to come. But tonight we will be working for tips as a fundraiser for the team.
We get to the hotel that we will be staying at and get our rooms. This is going to suck; we have to share two beds with four people. UGH! We arrange to meet at a certain time in the lobby to leave for the racetrack. We all branch out to our rooms to get settled. I’m rooming with Emily, Anna, and Megan. They are freshmen too. I haven’t talked to them very much, so I don’t know if they are doing the wild freshman thing or not. If they are, it just means that I can better them at most anything.
It’s funny how nervous I am getting for this game. Actually, we are playing the best two out of three. This way Coach can see everyone play and get a good feel for our abilities. I’m not sure where she will play me. I’ve played several positions, but I was a catcher and third base because I have such a strong arm. I might be put out in the field because I can run fast and can catch almost anything. At this point, I don’t care as long as I can start and stay in the whole game.
We all huddle around Coach as she tells us what she is looking for. She tells everyone their positions and I am sitting on the bench, shit. Even though I am not playing, I do what I always do, what I did in high school that got me voted First Team All-State. That’s hard to get when you don’t have a very good team, we lost more than we won.
We are up to bat first. I focus on the pitcher’s hand and her stance to see if I can see the difference in what she is throwing. She’s
good, not a lot of change in her stance from pitch to pitch. Three up, three down.
Now comes the fun part. I watch and listen to the other dugout. It’s listening to the teammates that gives away the batter’s weakness sometimes. I take my Sharpie marker and write on my forearm what I see as their weakness. I do this for the first four innings. I might not be able to use it, but at least I’ll be prepared.
Bases are loaded and there’s a play at home. Shortstop throws the ball to the catcher, the catcher is blocking the plate before there is a play and the runner purposely runs into the catcher taking her out. The catcher is screaming and I can see her knee is twisted the wrong way. The coaches and trainers rush to the field. They think she has torn her ACL. I’m the only other person that has caught before, but I don’t want to assume she is going to put me in. We’re down three zip, and the bases are loaded. How much worse could it get?
“Modell, you ready to show me what you can do?”
“Yes Coach,” I say in a strong voice.
“Suit up then.”
I get my catchers gear on. I walk behind the plate, and I ask the ump for a couple pitches with a throw down. He nods his head. “Thank you, Blue.”
I crouch down and Lacey throws the first pitch, then the second. “Coming down,” I holler.
She throws the third pitch, and from my spot, I throw perfectly to second base. No hesitation, I was on. I walk to the pitcher’s mound, take my helmet off, and cover my mouth with my mitt so no one can read my lips. I tell her I know what pitch they are suckers for and to let me call them. She nods her acknowledgment and I head back to the plate.
Number two is up to bat. Bases are loaded and there are no outs. I look at my arm and call low and inside, and sure enough, she chases after it; fastball inside, strike two; low inside—shit she golfed for it—strike three. I raise my finger. “One down ladies.”
Number thirteen is next. The sucker rise is what she goes after. Again, strike three. “Two down ladies.”
Anchored To Love Page 4
