Penalty Kicks

by D. S. Dehel

  He shook his head and stood. “I adore you.” He pulled off his shirt.

  Ah, you’re not smooth chested, as I thought. That’s the perfect amount of hair. Guys with brown hair can be hirsute, but not you. “Pants?” I love his smirk. It’s so sexy, and dear lord, will you look at that? Even in the half-light he was impressive. His solid cock rose from a tangle of dark pubic hair, fully erect, veins etched up the shaft. His desire for her couldn’t be more clear, and though it wasn’t fair to compare him to her ex, she did, and Nolan couldn’t hold a candle to Matt.

  Her stare must have been bold. He bit his lip, this time shy. She could tell by the faint pink on his cheeks. She felt her own warm.

  He cleared his throat. “Now you.”

  She knew he would not be as impressed with her as she was with him. In general, she was fit, but not muscular, and she’d always been thin, though the years had added pounds to her ass, but sadly not to her breasts, as Nolan had liked to point out. The shorts slid off easily, and she kicked them aside. He raked his gaze over her body, and she’d always thought the cliché that a person could feel the heat of someone else’s stare a stupid idea, but now she knew the truth. Twice it had happened. Matt’s stare had heat and weight. His smile held mischief. The good kind.

  Her insides clenched at the twist of those lips.

  He nodded at the bed. This time she climbed in slowly, savoring the moment. He watched as she did, and his smile grew more mischievous. He crawled across to her and pressed her into the pillows with an intense kiss that left her breathless.

  She lost herself in his kisses and reveled in his touch. He might have been younger, but he definitely knew what he was doing, and the answer to whether he preferred kissing was that he liked a healthy balance of both. He’d explore with his hands and follow with his lips, a method that worked well.

  And there was so much of him to learn. How does he like to be touched? Where? But he responded with small gasps and sighs that she took as encouragement. Skimming her fingers down his stomach, searching for the spot on his collarbone that made him moan. Left side, near the base of his neck.

  “So?”

  She knew exactly what he meant. “Yes. Can I help?” Though it’s been ages since I’ve been anywhere near a condom.

  “If you want.” But his voice held the growly edge she was learning meant he was very turned on, as did the faint flush on his cheekbones.

  The low light softened the awkward moments. He couldn’t get the package open at first. She wasn’t expecting it to so slippery, and it nearly tumbled to the covers. It was definitely not the best size for him and was a snug fit.

  And yet… his desire and nervousness matched hers, and that simple honesty was sexier than anything she had ever experienced. Their mingled laughter wrapped itself around her heart.

  His gentleness and ferocity blew her away. He slipped between her thighs, hesitating, while his eyes searched her face.

  Such sweetness charmed her, and she shifted her hips toward him, encouraging. He slid deep inside her, suddenly, as if he couldn’t control himself, and she loved that. Responded to it. His fingers buried in her skin. His breath stopped a heartbeat, two heartbeats, before exhaling slowly.

  Maybe it’s been a while for him. “Kiss me.” Perhaps that would distract him enough.

  No sweetness in this kiss. It held fire and hunger. He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. After a time -- a moment or minutes, she was so lost in him she could not tell -- he began to move, and she raised her hips to meet his.

  Together they found a rhythm. Slowly, her nerves melted, and her orgasm began to build. In her head the only analogy she had was when she was a kid and would climb the biggest slide at the park, one step after another until she reached the top and whoosh.

  Though she didn’t know him well, she could feel him tense, close. She wasn’t far, either. She grabbed his ass and pushed him deeper, and that contact sent her off. She slid though waves of pleasure. He followed with a thrust and low moan into her shoulder.

  Her pulse pounded in her fingertips, and she could feel his chest press into hers with his own ragged breathing.

  Now what? Will he want me to leave? She struggled to stave off the awkward fear that rose in her, but then he kissed her neck, her lips, and the sensation receded.

  “I’ll be right back. You stay here.” His smile was full of sweetness.

  “Definitely.” She did shift onto one side of the bed, wondering if it was where he usually slept.

  He climbed back into the bed. “C’mere.” He reached for her and pulled her close.

  No hesitation in him, and she envied his aplomb. Slowly, she relaxed and nuzzled into his neck. He smelled of the soap she’d used in the shower. At long last, she fell asleep tucked into his side.

  Chapter Five

  She woke from a deep sleep, relaxed, but too tired to open her eyes. Yesterday had been a stressful day, but it was over. Nolan was out of her life.

  Outside, the city began to wake. Trucks rumbled by and a horn blared. After the relative quiet of suburbia, it would take some time before she grew used to the noise, but she had always wanted to live in the city. Goodbye, stupid birds that screeched at an unreasonable hour.

  No light filtered through her closed eyes. She must have remembered to shut the curtains.

  Curtains?

  Something tugged at her mind, begging for attention, but she batted it away and snuggled deeper into the pillow that smelled of cut grass, apple, and ambergris.

  That’s not my detergent.

  And the bed was far more comfortable than she would have thought, considering the mattress she could afford.

  Mattress.

  From behind her came an intake of breath and the shift of sheets, the sound of someone waking up.

  The entirety of yesterday came crashing in on her.

  She’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  No, not the biggest, but quite possibly a huge one. He’s going to take one look at me and regret everything and that will break my heart.

  She could feel him stretch, then he exhaled and snuggled closer, burying his head against her back. She could feel his breath on her skin, and her blood began to race. Help me. This man turns me on by breathing on me.

  One deep breath to steel herself, then she turned over. He opened his eyes. “G’morning.” She could see hesitation, not revulsion, as if he worried what she was thinking.

  “Good morning.” She traced his jawline, the stubble soft and rough at the same time. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a log.” He put his hand on her hip, shifting her slightly closer. “I’m sorry I moved away from you. I’m not used to sleeping with anyone. You cuddle good.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” His words melted her fears. She sat up and looked for a clock. “What time is it?”

  He reached over her and picked his phone up. “Almost eight.”

  She groaned and buried her head in his chest, happy to be caught in his warm embrace and the rich smell of him. “I’ve got to go. They’re delivering my mattress this morning.”

  “I was hoping to make you breakfast.” She could hear the disappointment. “Maybe talk you into staying for a while.”

  “I’d love to, but I bitched the owner of Rest Assured out yesterday, and he swore that my mattress will be here this morning.” She nuzzled his neck.

  He rubbed a hand over his stubble. “That blows.” He kissed her face. “Stay here. I’ll go get your clothes.” She watched as he dressed quickly and left, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Matt appeared soon, a wry twist to his lips. “They’re still damp.” He held out her dress. “I can throw them back in.”

  “Um, I should be okay.” She took the clothes.

  “Just wear my shirt and shorts.”

  “Are you sure?” She’d still have to put on her damp bra. She shrugged it on, grimacing at the clammy padding. “I’ll wash your things and get them back to you.�
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  “No worries.”

  “I’m going to look super classy in sweats and heels.”

  “Who knows? The look might catch on.”

  “I’m going to call an Uber.” She waved her phone. “There are some in the area.”

  “I’ll take you home.” His fatigue amplified his frown, and she could see how he’d be terrifying on the field.

  “It took a while to find a parking space last night. I can’t imagine there are many more on a Saturday morning.” She scooted close and looked up at him through her lashes. “I like the idea of you warm in bed, even if I’m not here.”

  “Oh, all right.” He smiled though he sighed. “Let me at least see that you get in the car.”

  “It’ll be here in five minutes.” The little dot moved towards her location.

  “Have you got everything?” A quick check confirmed that she did.

  Matt followed her down the hall past now-silent rooms, and down the steps. Singing wafted through the vestibule, a pretty tune, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  “Salé. He always sings when he cooks.” Matt shook his head, but grinned. “Sings off-key.”

  “Mateo, you can bite me.” Salé’s laughter bubbled through the words. He appeared carrying a spatula and wearing a white chef’s apron embroidered with the word naughty. “What can I make for you and the pretty Ms. Jackson? Some of my panqueques?”

  “I have to go. Thank you, though.”

  “You kick her out without giving her breakfast? I thought I taught you better than that.” He brandished the spatula at Matt as he spoke.

  Matt held up his hands. “I offered. I wanted her to stay all day.”

  “So he was that bad, eh?” Salé gave her a wink.

  “My mattress is being delivered this morning. Matt has been a compete gentleman. Don’t hurt him, Salé.” She liked the saucy Striker.

  “For you, okay.” He waved. “I’ll see you around.” A statement, not a question.

  I hope so. “See you around.”

  Matt disarmed the alarm and hauled open the heavy door. Cool morning air reminded her that spring was only just beginning. “I should have given you a jacket.” Matt rubbed his bare arms.

  “I’ll be fine. The car’s almost here. You’re out here without any shoes.” Matt looked as cold as she felt.

  “Damn. Your picture. Wait here.” He turned and dashed up the steps to the house. In what seemed an impossibly short time he returned, waved, keys in hand, and headed up the street, his long legs stretching out and carrying to the end of the block in a flash.

  He returned just as the silver sedan pulled up, and he didn’t even have the decency to sound out of breath as he held out the bag. “Made it.” Before she could stop him, he put the bag in the car.

  “Text me when you get home.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t?”

  “I don’t have your number. You don’t give out your digits, remember?” She smiled to soften the bitchiness.

  “You’re right. Give me your phone. I can’t believe I almost let you get away without having your number.” She set up a contact and handed it over.

  The driver honked the horn.

  “I better go.” She stepped off the curb and reached for the handle.

  “No, you don’t.” He grabbed the handle and opened it. “Your car, milady.”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “Anytime.” He leaned in and kissed her firmly, reminding her of their night together. “Text me.”

  As they drove away, she glanced back. He still stood on the sidewalk, watching her go.

  * * *

  “May I help you?”

  India turned and looked at the light-skinned man who smiled beatifically at her from the tips of his bleached curly hair to his beat-up Doc Martens, but her eyes returned to his T-shirt which had a unicorn with a rainbow-colored mane and tail. The text read, Nobody knows I’m gay.

  “I love your shirt.”

  “I think of it as camouflage.” Something about him soothed her frazzled nerves, despite the multiple piercings in his face.

  She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I definitely need help.”

  “What do you need?” He waved his hands at the store behind him.

  “Uh…” That was the problem. This whole place overwhelmed the senses. Kitsch and class clashed everywhere. Pink and blue stuffed sperm hung from the ceiling, all looking quite pleased with themselves. Niches holding tawdry flavored lube and lingerie were juxtaposed with similar niches of top dollar, well-made toys and other accoutrements. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “First time here?” His tone matched his sympathetic look.

  “Well, obviously.” She grimaced, then the words tumbled out. “You see, I’m very recently divorced, and I’ve started dating -- well, I’m not sure we’re dating. It’s complicated -- and the whole scene is so foreign to me. Everyone is so upfront about sex. It’s so unlike how it used to be, and that’s a good thing, but I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around it, and anyway, I’m going to be seeing him tonight, and we’ll possibly -- no, make that probably -- end up in bed -- and I thought I should be responsible, you know? So, I went to the local drugstore, but the man in charge of the case wanted me to hurry up and pick something, and how can I do that when there’s so many kinds? He harrumphed at me until I finally made a choice, then he told me how nice I was to buy them for my son. My. Son. Do I look like I could have a son old enough to have sex? No, don’t answer that. Today has been rough enough.”

  He blinked at her a moment, probably trying to process her torrent of words, then he reached out, took her hand, and patted it. “Oh love, that’s terrible. Come with Maso. I’ll sort you out. The good stuff is back here. Watch your step.” He led her towards a section of the store separated from the rest by a portcullis and a milky stream that she had to jump over. She did not want to know what that was made of.

  “Talk to me. Tell me about your man. What’s he like?”

  She couldn’t see why he needed the information, but didn’t mind talking about Matt. “He’s a…” She couldn’t be specific. The players were known around the city. “He’s the athletic type.”

  “So, he’s fit?”

  “Very.”

  “Okay, tell me more.”

  “He’s tall. Just over six foot four, to be exact.” She’d looked it up that morning and found it both fortunate and disquieting that such information was readily available.

  “Ohh, you got yourself a tall one.” He held up his hands, palms out, fingers splayed. “Big hands.”

  “Very big.” She could feel the color rise in her cheeks.

  Maso waved dismissively. “Ain’t nothin’ to be embarrassed about, you lucky thing. What you need is over here. We specialize in products for big and tall men.”

  He spent the next twenty minutes asking questions and making suggestions. In the end, she chose a variety pack, though she couldn’t imagine ever using the mango flavored condom. “And there’s a few different sizes in there, just in case things don’t work out with Mr. Big Hands. A woman like you shouldn’t tie herself to one man anyway. Play the field a bit.”

  “Play the field? That implies I have a clue which sport I’m playing.”

  His laughter was musical and made heads turn. “Oh honey.” Again, he took her hand and pulled her aside. “I think you’re going to be just fine once you get your bearings.” He dug a card out of his back pocket. “I have a friend who works at Passion Play across town. When you’re ready for some big girl games, go see Lisa, and bring Mr. Big Hands. They offer beginner classes, but be sure he knows what he’s getting into. Kink isn’t for everyone.”

  It wasn’t lost on her that Maso thought kink was right for her, and that made her stand a little taller. “I doubt he needs classes.”

  “Everyone needs classes.” He winked. “And they offer advanced ones, too.”

&nb
sp; “Thanks. I’ll keep it mind. It’s early days yet.” She took the garish bag. No discretion here. “And thank you for all your help.”

  “Enjoy yourself, love.” He beamed and waved her out the door.

  The sidewalk was jammed with people out enjoying the sun, so many people that she couldn’t cross the street before the light switched.

  While waiting for the next signal, she let her mind wander to last night. She hadn’t expected a call so soon and was surprised to find her heart race when she saw his name on her caller ID.

  She’d snatched her phone off the table and tried to sound nonchalant. “Hey, how are you?”

  His reply was drowned out by heavy bass and feedback signaling too-loud music. Maybe he butt-dialed me? But then the music faded, and there was the distinct scrape and swish of a glass deck door.

  “Sorry about that.” She could hear him switch ears. “I didn’t expect the music to be so loud. How are you? How is the moving?”

  “I’m fine. The mattress arrived not long after I did.” She propped her feet on the coffee table after pulling the armchair closer. “I spent most of today unpacking and arranging. How was your day? Did you have practice?”

  “No, not until Monday. I just bummed about. Did some laundry and caught up on my sleep. I was terribly tired for some reason.” The suggestive tinge to his voice gave her pleasant shivers.

  “That’s my plan for tonight, laundry and sleep.” A scream from the movie she was watching tore through air. Why are screams always so much louder than the rest of the movie? “Oops. That was loud.” She turned down the volume.

  “That doesn’t sound like laundry.” She could hear laughter in his voice.

  “I’m watching an old black and white film while I fold clothes. Your things are done.”

  “I’d rather take them off you personally. Which film are you watching?”

  It was better if she focused on the second half of his statement. “The Tingler. It’s campy and not scary at all. I frequently spend my Saturday nights with films like this.”