Jump Shot

by Sierra Hill

  Her orgasm begins to subside and her grip on my shoulder loosens; her limbs going limp beside me. When she opens her eyes, I see contentment there and it shoots straight to my already hard cock.

  Her voice is husky. “Wow, that was…unexpected.”

  I angle my head and kiss her hard on the lips, my tongue slipping inside her mouth, finding hers and mating in a provocative dance.

  When I let go, I say, “Glad I could be of service.”

  Pushing myself up with a smile, I reach over her head to grab the condom, trying valiantly to tear it open. Frustration pummels me when it doesn’t rip because my hands are still a little slick from her wetness. Mica laughs, taking it from me and opening it up with a patient tug.

  And then I watch in captivating awe as she sits up, unrolls the latex over my painfully aching cock and grips me tightly at the base to test its fit.

  My head rolls back with a groan. “That feels so good.”

  “Mmm. Si, it does,” she responds, fisting my dick in her small hands.

  When I tip my forehead back down, I’m overcome with gratefulness. I’d honestly never expected Mica in my bed. I’d tried with the effort I’ve only ever given to the game of basketball. I’d hoped. I’d wanted. And here she is now, so perfect; her brown eyes shining with desire as she smiles up at me.

  And then I snap. I can’t take it any longer. I need to be inside her.

  She lets out a surprised gasp when I push her hand off my cock and crowd her, so she has to lay back on the bed. It takes some maneuvering so we have the room on the bed, but then I’m there.

  The head of my cock is at her entrance, ready to plunge inside her slick heat.

  “You still okay with this?” I ask again, because that question has been burned into my head from every coach I’ve ever had since high school.

  Every teacher, every coach have all said the same thing; reminding us to be accountable for our actions. Be respectful. As for consent. To think with the heads above our shoulders, not below our waists.

  I hold myself incredibly still, waiting for her acknowledgment before I proceed.

  When it comes in the form of the Spanish version of “yes,” I sigh in relief.

  Kissing her endlessly, I line myself up between her folds, and push inside. I’m immediately met with resistance and I stop.

  Mica’s face is tensed up in a tight expression.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  She shakes her head, hair falling around her face in black waves.

  “No, I’m good. It’s just…you’re so big.”

  I can’t help but crow with pride at this compliment. Granted, she’s small and her frame so tiny, so it’s a very tight fit, and based on the fact that she’s only been with another guy, it’s going to take some maneuvering.

  I grin and lift my eyebrows. “I’m a big boy and you’re gonna feel me for days, baby.”

  She lifts her arms, the warmth of her hands sliding down the curve of my back to my ass, creating ripples of pleasure through my body. When she squeezes my ass cheeks, I bite her earlobe and she giggles. God, that sound is pure ecstasy.

  “Just go slow for a second, okay? I’ll be fine.” She opens her legs wider.

  My agreement comes in the form of a painfully slow glide inside her wet pussy. It’s agonizing torture, but every hot inch sends jolting pleasure. My balls are already tight and pressed high, ready to burst.

  I feel her walls loosen and give around me and when I finally bottom out, we both sigh in exquisite relief.

  I’m so lost in this girl. She swallows me whole – all my darkness and my pain; all my good and my bad. All the rights and wrongs; my highs and my lows.

  The arms she wraps me in are both a comfort and a curse because I know I’ll never feel this way for anyone else again. She has all of me and doesn’t even know it.

  And I’m worried that I’m going to fuck it up even before it starts.

  My heart rate is as fast as a race car right now, as I continue pumping in and out of Mica’s pliant body. She undulates and squirms underneath me, writhing to gain friction where she needs it most. I’m so ready to spill myself inside, releasing in a torrent of hot pulsing bursts.

  Her slick heat envelopes me, the round flesh of her breasts brushing against my chest every time I move against her. I’m getting so close to letting go, the painful tightening in my balls with the pending eruption of my release.

  I place one hand at her head and move the other down the satiny length of her body until I’m cupping her ass in my grip. My mouth takes her in a sharp and punishing kiss and I squeeze her solid cheek, a perfect handful in my palm.

  When I feel her tense up and then hear the strangled, aroused cry from her lips, I lose it. I drown in the slick heat and tight chamber of her pussy and throw my head back as I pulse hotly inside her.

  “Oh, fuck yeah…” I hoarsely moan.

  It’s like the heavens have opened under the dark desert sky and I’m surrounded by a sea of bright stars. White-hot pleasure ricochets through me, raking me over hot coals in the process.

  I clutch at her body so hard, I’ll probably leave red welts where my grip strained for more. I’m so greedy for her. And now that I’ve claimed her, I know the truth.

  My thirst will never be quenched.

  Like an addict, I’ll always want more; chasing the high that only she can give me.

  Because that’s what happens with me. I find ways to chase the highs and hide the dark shit inside me – the mud that flows through my blood – it always finds a way to seep out and strangle any good in my life.

  I need to remind myself that this is just sex. Friends with benefits. Getting involved in a relationship with Mica would be wrong. She deserves so much more than me. And I can’t let her think it’s anything more than friendship and sex.

  Even as I tell myself this lie, I know it’s paper thin and lacks substance.

  Because unless I let go of her completely, Mica has a hold on my heart so tight, it’ll be impossible to live without her.

  She’s my drug. My addiction. And I need her to breathe.

  14

  Mica

  My body still tingles and pulses like a live wire.

  That was the most intense and gratifying moment of my entire adult life. Lance’s claims at being stellar in bed were not just tall tales and folklore. He has a right to brag, is all I’m saying.

  It’s such a strange feeling, being so close to someone, yet feeling the acute distance at the same time. As I begin to come down from the climactic high and lay here in his bed, I’ve started to feel vulnerable and somewhat regretful.

  Not in the fact that he gave me more pleasure than I’ve ever experienced before, but that I know with one hundred percent certainty that it means much more to me than it does to him. I can already tell this was a mistake. I shouldn’t have allowed my desire for Lance to override my sensibilities when it comes to making good decisions.

  And Lance is a very bad decision, even though it felt so good and right.

  I should get up, find my clothes and get the heck out of here before I do or say something stupid. Like, I love you and I want to have your babies. It’s thoughts like that which make me realize we are not suited for one another in a long-term kind of way.

  There’s no way that Lance, after sleeping with me one time, would think long-term relationship, weddings and families. He’s a hot, young, single ball player who just wants a good time. And I’m just another notch in his belt.

  In fact, the only reason he’s probably pursued me for so long is that I’ve been a challenge to his ego.

  Now that he’s had his way with me, I won’t present the thrill of the chase and he’ll get bored. This was likely just a one-time thing.

  My body suddenly turns cold and I shiver, even though Lance’s large body is a furnace behind me. He’s spooning me, with my back is to his chest, which is how we’ve been cuddling for the last ten minutes after he returned from the bathroom where he dispo
sed of the evidence of my stupidity.

  “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Georgie?”

  The warmth of his breath against the top of my head feels good, but sends even more goosebumps down my arms. He notices and pulls me in tighter.

  “Mmm. Just thinking of all the things I have to get done this week. Figuring out my schedule.”

  The laughter rumbles in his chest, shaking me, as he turns on his back. I twist around to find out what’s so amusing.

  “Why is this cómico?” I ask, a little miffed that he’s laughing at me and finds my response funny. Granted, it was a totally bogus lie.

  He props himself up on his elbow and his other hand pushes some rogue strands of hair out of my face. The softness in his touch has me melting into the pillow.

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel insecure about his abilities in bed,” he muses, grasping at his heart like he’s wounded. “I was hoping you were thinking about what a good lover I am and how much you want to have another round with the champ.”

  Snickering at his obvious ego, I give him a hearty push against his chest and he playfully falls over on his back, but not before he grabs my shoulder and brings me down on top of his chest. I angle my head and rest the side of my face against his broad pecs, his warmth lulling me as he strokes my hair in a slow, easy fashion.

  “You don’t need me to boost your ego with words of encouragement. I’m sure a lot of other girls can do that for you.”

  Although I try to sound light and breezy, I’m sure he can pick up on the sarcasm in my remark. Maybe even some jealousy.

  His hand continues to stroke my back – up and down the naked landscape. And when he reaches my bottom, his fingertips dance and flit over the curve of my ass, dipping down and smoothing over the swell. I’m sure he has no idea what he’s doing to me, but every movement of his touch brings me immense pleasure.

  His movements suddenly stop, and I lift my head so that our eyes meet. What I see is a serious side of Lance he usually keeps hidden from others.

  “Does that bother you? That I’ve slept around?”

  Sighing, I answer him truthfully. “Yes…no. I don’t know. I guess it does make me feel…well, one of many. It’s stupid, I know. But you know I don’t expect anything from you, Lance. Right? We’ll always be friends.”

  Saying it out loud sounds ridiculous even to my own ears. It would be nearly impossible to retain the same level of friendship that we had before all this happened. It’s part of the reason I’ve resisted this so long. My face must betray my words, because his lips pull up into a smile.

  “Mica, I’ve never wanted to be just friends with you. I wouldn’t have pursued you this long and this hard if I didn’t care about you. And honestly, I wouldn’t want things to go back to the way they were.”

  I’m a little stunned by his confession. Did he pursue me? I assumed it was how he always acted around other girls. He’s a flirt. A ladies’ man. He knows how to turn on the charm with his devil-may-care smile and delectable body.

  “What does that mean, then? You can’t mean you want to be exclusive.” I guffaw.

  He stares at me, but I can’t read his eyes.

  “Would that be so bad? Being with me?”

  Even the possibility that we would date and become boyfriend and girlfriend seems an unlikely stretch. We are both so busy and have such different lives, I can’t imagine what it would even look like to date Lance. He’s bigger than life and is with different girls every week. It’s impossible to think he’d want to settle down.

  Lance shifts and pulls me up so that I’m straddling him, my knees pressed to the sides of his hips. I place my hands down on his pec muscles and have to keep myself still because I feel him in all the right places.

  “Mica,” he begins, his tone smooth and a little husky. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’ve wanted you for a long time. And now that you’re here in my bed, I know what I’ve been missing. All the girls I’ve been with before you…they pale in comparison. They were like fillers or stand-ins or something. They weren’t real to me. You are the real thing.”

  Before I can say anything, his hands cup my cheeks and he sits up, his lips touching mine sweetly and reverently. We kiss for a few minutes, no words exchanged, just the sentiments from our hearts expressing the truth. Our hopes and our fears. The truth in our lies.

  When he breaks the kiss, his deep, soulful eyes show me his sincerity. “Micaela, I don’t know how to be a boyfriend. Never been one. But I want to be something more than a friend with you. I may not be worthy, but I want to try for you.”

  My heart seems to have skittered to a stop. The oxygen in my lungs wrung out and emptied. I slide my fingers through his soft textured hair and kiss him without end. My lips taste the truth in his affirmations. His desire to be the one I need.

  “Lance, you are already worthy.”

  With one hand at the base of my head and the other around my waist, he maneuvers me in his lap so that his very hard and stiff shaft is seated between my folds. He rocks against me as I move along his length, seeking friction.

  If this is what it’s like having a boyfriend, then I’m all in. Damn all the other stuff in the world that work to keep us apart. That will fight to get between us.

  We undulate together, his lips touching me on every part of my naked body he can reach. My bare shoulders, my collarbone, the tips of my breast. Oh yes…I arch my back so that he can take me in his mouth, his wet tongue flicking my sensitive nipples, sending fiery sensations between my legs. I can feel the wetness gathering there, as his hard length brushes against my clit.

  “I need you again,” he murmurs, and I concur with a “mmm-hmm.”

  He barely needs to lean due to the wingspan of his arm, but he reaches over and grabs another condom, doing a much better job this time of getting it open. But before he covers up, I want to put my mouth on him. To taste him like he tasted me.

  I shake my head and push his hand out of the way, scooting down his legs and pushing him onto his back. He knows what I’m about to do and he flops back with a low, encouraging grunt.

  “I’ve wanted to do this before, but I never had the nerve,” I nervously admit, thinking about all the moments together when we’ve touched and kissed enough to get close. But we were always interrupted or stopped before going too far. Or I stopped things out of self-preservation.

  “I’m all yours. Do your worst.”

  And then I giggle with pleasured joy when I dart my tongue out to taste the top of his crown and he jerks, his heavy dick jolting against my chin.

  “Ah fuck, sorry…”

  But I don’t let it deter me. As long as he’s eager and not worried about my lack of experience, I won’t let it bother me, either.

  Placing one hand around his hot base, I cover the head with my mouth, swirling my tongue around the ridge of the smooth mushroom tip. He remains relatively still, but his muscular legs tense underneath me, as he widens them on the bed to allow me more room.

  After a few more licks – one from the base to the tip – I look up and ask, “What do you want me to do?”

  Because I want to make this good for him. And I know I can do a good job if he instructs me along the way.

  His words are short but direct. “Put your mouth on me and suck hard.”

  That’s exactly what I do.

  And I revel in the pleasure he takes from my mouth. It’s so satisfying to hear him moan, to feel the strength of his hand on top of my head resist the urge to push me down farther. His restraint is beautiful.

  I suck him to the back of my throat and choke a little when he accidentally goes too deep. I swallow around him, and his reaction is the sexiest thing ever. He moans long and loud and it causes me to moan along with him. I feel myself getting wetter by the moment and I want to touch myself, but I’m too embarrassed.

  I’ve found a rhythm as I suck, swirl my tongue, lick and swallow and after a few more minutes, he’s panting and writhing undern
eath me until he grabs my hair and pulls me off.

  Although my lips are swollen, and I have spittle running down my chin, he doesn’t seem to care. He just says, “I need to be inside you.”

  He covers up with the condom and the next thing I know I’m straddling his seated form, and he pushes inside, stealing my breath and all my thoughts. They evaporate from the heat between us.

  But one thought still remains.

  Over the last year, Lance wormed his way inside my life. Now he’s made a move to possess my body, in effect, capturing every part of my being – heart, body and soul.

  15

  Lance

  “So, you and Mica, huh?” Cade smirks from across the table. “Finally tapped that?”

  I flip him off, the noise from the sports bar we’re at reminding me of all the great times we’ve had together. But now it’s only on the occasional boys’ night out, like tonight, when we get to hang out.

  Taking a gulp of beer and rolling my eyes at him, he laughs, a deep resounding boom from his chest. He’s just flipping me shit because he can, since he’s known Mica as long as I have. He also knows that the last time we were together, Mica and I were just friends. But it bothers me that he’d even joke about her or lump her in with any of my previous conquests, because Mica’s different.

  “Fuck off, you pussy. Ain’t like that and you know it.”

  He grins. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been chasing her around like a puppy for a year, dude. I got eyes. I see it in the way your tongue hangs out and you go all googly eyed when I mention her name. Oh wait, hold on… don’t move…stay just like you are. I need to take a picture of your stupid face to send to Carver. Unless I send him the evidence, he won’t believe me when I tell him you’re whipped.”

  Cade makes a spectacle of trying to get a shot of me as I try to extricate his phone from his hands. He’s such a fucker.

  “Dude, you and Carver are a hundred times worse than I am. Just admit it. You’re the fucking pussy whipped bastards, not me.”