Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

by Claire Adams

  A narrow footpath threaded its way through the woods, and I followed close behind Graham. It felt thrilling and a little wild to be out in the woods at night like this. The air was full of the sound of spring peepers, and the moonlight gave everything an ethereal, otherworldly feel.

  I heard a sound. “What was that?” I asked, freezing.

  Graham stopped too, listening. “People,” he said. “Come on.”

  “People?” I repeated skeptically. I felt a surge of nervousness—where had he taken me? What were we doing? But he reached out and took my hand, quelling the nervousness.

  “It’s a popular area,” he said. “For good reason.”

  We followed the path for a few more minutes before it opened into a clearing; we were on a bluff, it seemed, above the lake. The full moon was reflected perfectly on the water’s black, glassy surface. There were several people there, and they were taking turns swinging into the lake from a long rope attached to a thick branch connected to a tall tree overlooking the lake.

  “Wow,” I said, watching as someone grabbed the rope and took a running leap. The rope swung out over the pond, and at the apex, the person let go and dropped into the lake. “You weren’t joking.”

  For some reason, when he said rope swing, the image that came to mind was something much smaller, something dinky and cute that little kids would use, something that would gently arc out of the water. This rope swing, though, was absolutely nothing like that. I looked up, and the branch the rope was attached to seemed impossibly high, to the point that I wondered how on Earth someone had gotten up there to attach it in the first place. And then, of course, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was secure, and what the chances were that the rope would simply not hold?

  But while I stood there wondering that, the rope came swinging back and someone else reached out and snatched it. There were several knots of varying sizes tied in the rope, and the person let out a yell and then took off.

  “That looks insane,” I said.

  “First time here?” a girl asked me. She looked like she was a few years younger than me.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “I was nervous the first time too, but you’ll love it! Well, as long as you’re cool with that weightless feeling in your stomach; you know, it kind of feels like you’re going to throw up but in a good way?”

  Graham laughed. “Stellar endorsement.”

  “This is the best-kept secret on the Cape!” one of the guys yelled. “And we’ve got a newbie here!” He pointed at me. “Love when I get to be here to witness someone get their cherry popped!”

  Everyone laughed and I was glad it was dark so no one could see my furious blushing.

  “Let me see that rope,” Graham said. It was clear that Graham had been here before. He knew exactly the right point to leap off the bluff, and timed his release of the rope perfectly. He shot into the water like a spear.

  “Fine display,” someone said, and a few people clapped as the rope came swinging back.

  I looked down to the lake, waiting for him to break the surface. A few seconds went by and nothing; the ripples that had been created when he dove in were dissipating and the water was almost completely smooth again. My heart started to beat faster. Where was he? Shouldn’t he have resurfaced by now? Why wasn’t anyone else noticing that he hadn’t come up yet? I took a step closer. If I had to take a running leap off this bluff, I probably could propel myself far enough to hit the water, but—

  But before I could do anything like that, he resurfaced, almost all the way back to the shore. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You up?” one of the guys asked. I hesitated. Graham was still in the water, walking up onto the beach.

  “I’m going to wait for him,” I said.

  “I think she’s afraid!” A different girl than the one I’d already talked to stepped forward, grabbing the rope from the guy. “I’ll go.”

  I tried not to feel terribly out of place as I waited for Graham to make his way back up here. I watched the girl as she took a few steps back, pulling the rope taut, then ran forward.

  “Kristin always fucks it up,” the guy standing closest to me said. “Watch her, but only to know not what to do.”

  I watched, and saw how she let go way too early, before the rope had even come close to reaching the apex. She dropped unceremoniously into the water, doing what sounded like a belly flop. By the time someone had hauled the rope back in, Graham was back up on the bluff.

  “Okay,” I said, walking over to the rope. “I’ll go.”

  Now was as good a time as any, I figured, because Graham was here and that girl Kristin was still in the water, so she wouldn’t see me if I messed up too badly. Not that she had any grounds to say anything.

  I felt nervous because I knew they were all watching me. I shouldn’t have said anything about it being my first time.

  “You’ll be fine,” Graham said softly.

  It was really just a matter of letting go at the right time, knowing when the rope had reached its highest point. How would I know? I wasn’t sure, but standing around thinking about it wasn’t going to help. The rope was thick but smooth and well-worn. I gripped it tightly as I took a few running steps, and then there was nothing under my feet. The rope swung out at a huge arc, and it felt as though I’d left my stomach behind on the bluff. I could hear people cheering and whooping behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut, and right as the sensation felt like it was going to overwhelm me, I let go of the rope. I had no clue if the rope was anywhere near close to reach its highest point in the arc, but I didn’t care. There was a weightless feeling for a second, and then I was plummeting, and I let out a shriek, except it sounded less scared and more joyous. I hit the water feet first, shooting down to what felt like an incredible depth.

  I waited until I stopped plummeting before swimming for the surface. I opened my eyes, everything dark and blurry around me. I could see the moon above, a shifting, tremulous reflection.

  I broke the surface of the water with a gasp, and I could hear them clapping and shouting. Before I started the swim back in, I floated on my back for a minute, looking up at the black sky, the bright moon as white and round as a dinner plate.

  “No way that was your first time,” one of the guys said to me when I finally scrambled back up onto the bluff.

  “That was awesome!” I said. “That feeling ....”

  Graham came over and pulled me into a hug. “Told you it was pretty great, huh?” he said. I tilted my head back a little and looked up at him, knowing that he’d lean down and kiss me. He did, and it felt thrilling not just to be kissing him, but to be doing it here, in front of other people. Someone let out a wolf whistle.

  “Get a room!” someone else yelled, followed by hoots and cheers and laughter.

  We pulled back, laughing, and they offered me a turn again, wanting to see if I’d be able to replicate the same perfect jump I’d just taken.

  There was a part of me that wished we could just stay out here at this rope swing forever.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Graham

  The next day at work was slow, so when Chloe texted and asked if I wanted a visit, I told her I would love that. Last night at the rope swing felt something like a dream, though it wasn’t; it had actually happened. Eventually, Chloe and I left and we drove around for a little while, and then I brought her back to the shop. We made out for a few minutes before she got into that little car of hers and drove off.

  When had I last enjoyed myself that much? I couldn’t remember. It was nothing extravagant, just some good, simple fun, like in childhood.

  She had a big grin on her face when she showed up. “You should be proud of me,” she said. “I successfully managed to sneak back into my house last night without getting caught. Actually, it was past midnight, so it was technically this morning.” She smiled, looking pleased with herself.

  “Glad you didn’t get into any trouble,” I said. “That’s the last thing that I wan
ted to have happen. Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Any time! I want to go back there. It was awesome.”

  “Come here,” I said, walking over to her. “Don’t worry; there’s no one here.”

  We started kissing, the length of our bodies pressed against each other. I could feel my dick get hard, straining against my jeans. There was no reason to put this off any longer. I went over and locked the door.

  “Follow me,” I said, taking her hand. We went out back, where my office was. There was a desk I rarely sat at, with bank statements and old mail and bags of credit card slips that I was supposed to give to my accountant at the end of the fiscal year. There was also a couch—a vintage, leopard print chaise lounge that I had picked up at a thrift store because ... well, just because. It was a vintage, leopard print chaise lounge.

  I had barely even pushed the office door shut when she started kissing me. I was a little surprised but very pleased with her forwardness. I kissed her back, pulling her close to me, feeling the length of her body against mine. What kind of crazy shit had I been thinking, saying I wasn’t going to have sex all summer?

  “You’re such a good kisser,” she said. “I was lying in bed just thinking about that all last night. I couldn’t get to sleep.”

  “Wish I had been there.”

  I ran my hands down her sides. I kept my right hand at her hip but slid my left hand underneath her shirt, feeling the taut smoothness of her lower belly. I slowly traced that hand higher, brushing her rib cage lightly, cupping her breast. She let out a groan and pressed her pelvis against me. She was so hot, but I didn’t think she even knew it.

  “You have no idea how hot you are, do you?” I asked.

  She gave me that sheepish smile again. “No,” she said.

  “Well, you are.”

  “I think you’re so hot, too. I did that first night we walked in here. And I really do want my first time to be with you,” she said, her breath warm on my ear.

  “Wait, what?” I said. I stopped kissing her, certain I hadn’t heard her right. It was as if an old vinyl record had come to a halt with a scratch. I had some vague recollection of Tara making a joke about it the first night they’d come into the shop, but I’d just assumed that’s all it had been ... a joke. Surely she’d been with another guy before.

  “It’s fine,” she said, pulling me toward her again. “Just forget that I said anything.”

  It would be easy enough to. She pressed her mouth back against mine. Oh, yes, it would be more than easy to just keep things going the way they were going, and if she’d been anyone else, I probably would have but ... no. Maybe I was a romantic at heart, because I didn’t want her first time to be in the back of a tattoo shop where I’d already fucked plenty of women. This didn’t mean I was going to call up and book us the honeymoon suite at the Cuddle and Bubble, but I actually liked this girl enough to know that she deserved to have her first time be something more than the shop office I barely went into.

  She didn’t want to hear anything about it, though. “I don’t care,” she kept saying. “None of that matters. Was your first time in some picture perfect setting?”

  “No.”

  “I bet most people’s aren’t. And I am completely okay with that.”

  I disentangled myself from her. “Not here,” I said. “At least not your first time. Come on—” I held my hand out to her. “And trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chloe

  I took his hand, wanting to believe that it really was because he was concerned about it being my first time. Still, there was a tiny voice in the back of my head insisting that if he really thought I was so hot and he really liked me as much as he said, we just would’ve done it right then and there in his office.

  He was insistent that we leave. I felt the passion of the moment begin to ebb. Stop it, I admonished myself. He’s trying to make this special for you.

  He put the CLOSED sign up and locked the shop door. I felt a pang of guilt that he was closing the shop for this—what if someone was heading over who wanted a tattoo? I shook my head, trying to clear the thought. What was wrong with me? I was about to lose my virginity. It seemed weird to think about it like that, to have this time right now where I knew it was going to happen, even though it hadn’t happened just yet.

  But I wanted it to happen, I did, even if this wasn’t exactly how I might’ve envisioned it. Graham and I weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend, but I liked him more than I could remember liking anyone, maybe ever. So what if he wasn’t my type? So what if he wasn’t from some rich family? All things my parents would care about, but I didn’t. I realized now, maybe because I genuinely liked him, that none of that other stuff mattered.

  We got into his truck and he drove me to his house, which was a cute, winterized cottage with a big maple tree in the front yard. I followed him inside, through the living room, down a short hallway, and into his bedroom. It was a medium-sized room with windows on two of the walls. Sunlight spilled through the window to my right, dappling the floor.

  “I guess it’s good it’s been so hot lately,” he said. “I haven’t had to use the sheet or the comforter, so it looks like I actually made my bed.”

  I laughed, a little too loudly. I was starting to feel nervous, shy about him seeing me naked, uncertain that I’d even know what to do. This was exactly what Tara had been talking about! I was a fool to think that I was doing someone a favor by saving myself—it was really more like a huge disservice, because I was going to be completely clueless as what to do.

  Graham came and stood in front of me, a gentle but serious expression on his face. “We don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “No, it’s all right. I want to.”

  He brought his hand up to my chin and tilted my head up. “I don’t know if anyone that I’ve been with before has been a virgin,” he said.

  “The first person you slept with wasn’t?” I asked, surprised.

  He laughed. “Oh, hell no. I was 13; she was almost 18. Definitely not a virgin.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I guess I just thought ... I don’t know, virgins slept with virgins.” I realized how stupid that sounded once I’d said it out loud.

  He took a step closer to me and leaned his head down. I let my eyes close as his mouth pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my body sink into the contour of his. He had his hands around my waist, and he slowly moved them down over my ass.

  And it was like as long as I didn’t think, I would know what to do. The second I started to pay any attention to my thoughts, I was barraged with things like: You don’t know what you’re doing! Am I doing this right? Does he want you to put your hand there?

  But when I tuned all that mental chatter out, it was as though my body knew exactly what to do, exactly how to respond to his touches. As we kissed, I ran my hand through his hair, felt the smooth muscles and ropy tendons of his neck.

  We took a few shuffling sidesteps toward the bed. Before we sat down, though, he pulled his T-shirt off, revealing a sculpted torso and large, black and white tattoos. They weren’t images, but intricate Celtic and tribal designs.

  “Those are beautiful,” I said, running my fingertips across one of them. “They almost make you look like a sculpture.”

  He pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it on the ground next to his. His hands were warm against the small of my back, and he kissed slow circles on my neck. I had to bite my lip not to laugh because it tickled, but that just heightened the sensation of his mouth against my skin. His hands moved up slowly and I felt him unclasp my bra, the straps sliding slowly down my arms.

  He undid his pants and pushed them down, revealing more tattoos across his thighs. He undid the button on my shorts and pushed them down, and I stepped out of my underwear, and then we were both there, naked. I could feel the thoughts trying to push their way back in, thoughts that were trying to convinc
e me I should feel awkward right now that I was standing here in front of this guy I barely knew, but I ignored them and started to kiss him again. He brought his hands up to my breasts, squeezing them, gently tweaking my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. It felt so good I let out a gasp as our tongues explored each other’s mouths.

  We lay down on the bed on our sides, facing each other. I could feel his cock pressing against me. I reached down and wrapped my hand around it, surprised at how silky smooth the skin was. I moved my hand slowly up and down. He let out a long exhale and buried his face into my neck, nipping gently at my collarbone. He traced his fingers down my torso, over my hip bone, then lightly through my pubic hair. He stopped for a second, only to bring his fingers up to his mouth, get them wet with saliva, and then bring them back down. I spread my legs apart and felt a chill shoot up my spine as he slowly slid a slick finger into me.

  “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he whispered.

  I shook my head, rocking my hips against his hand. No, I wanted to say, you’re not going fast enough! I couldn’t describe the feeling; I just wanted more. I wanted him in me, deeper, faster, I wanted that feeling to last for as long as it could. My whole body quivered. I was so wet down there; no way it was just from the saliva from his fingers.

  “That feels so good,” I said, a pleading note in my voice begging that he not stop what he was doing. “I didn’t know it was going to feel so good.”

  He brought his wet fingers up to my clit and moved them in slow circles before sliding them back into my pussy. My breath came in heaving gasps, and a building sensation of almost unbearable pleasure was threatening to completely overwhelm me. I couldn’t control the sounds I was making and almost didn’t feel like I was in control of my own body anymore. I didn’t care; I just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing. I squeezed my eyes shut and bucked my hips against his hand and let myself be overtaken.

  The feeling was centralized in my pelvis and radiated out, reaching every single cell in my body. It kept building and building, like there was no cap for the amount of pleasure a person was capable of experiencing. Could someone die from having an orgasm? It was like an earthquake or some other cataclysmic event where you know the outcome is going to be completely earth-shattering and you are not sure you’re going to be able to survive it.