by B. B. Hamel
I nod and stand up. I take her hand and help her up. I walk her to the door and think about keeping her here, think about pushing her against the wall and kissing her, feeling her tight body against mine, but not yet. Not right now. I open the door for her and we head down the steps and out onto the sidewalk.
My place is on the other side of campus from where she lives. We walk a block past bungalow houses, their lawns immaculate, their front pillars and covered porches swept clean and pristine. We head onto campus where the street lights are always on and the spotlights on the building make the white columns almost shine. She walks closer against me and I slide my hand into hers, pulling her close. She looks up at me, a little surprise in her eyes.
“We probably shouldn’t on campus,” she says, her voice low.
I look around and don’t see anyone at all. “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m not wearing my uniform, and it’s late anyway.”
She bites her lip. “You sort of like that this is a little…”
“Forbidden?” I laugh. “Maybe I do. I think you sort of like it too.”
“Maybe I do,” she agrees.
I slow down and pull her hand, tugging her against me. She stares up into my eyes and my hands move onto her lower back, pulling her tight against me. She lets out a little gasp as I move us both behind a set of bushes tucked into the corner of the science building. I press my lips against her and kiss her, letting my tongue slide against hers, taking the kiss deep and passionate.
She moans into that kiss, and I feel a thrill of passion run through me. She’s right, this is forbidden, this is a risk. If someone spots us, if anyone realizes that the assistant coach of the football program is kissing a student on campus, there’s going to be hell to pay.
But I don’t think I care. Right now, there’s only her, only Chloe. She’s too goddamn gorgeous for me to hold back.
The kiss breaks off and she bites her lip. “I knew it,” she says.
“What?”
“I knew you’d be a good kisser.”
I laugh softly. I reach up and take a fist of her hair, pulling her head back. I kiss her neck gently. “Darling, I’m good at everything.” I kiss her again, bite her lower lip, then let her go. She stands there, blinking at me, and takes my offered hand.
We resume our walk. I lead her down a side path, both of us quiet. I suspect she’s digesting what just happened, just like I am, as we turn off campus again and head toward her apartment. I lead her across the street, along the block with all the retail stores, and stop in front of her door. The smell of fast food wafts onto the sidewalk and she turns to me, head tilted.
“Thanks for dinner,” she says.
“We’ll do it again.”
She nods. “Yeah, right, okay.”
“And if you hear from Erik. Or anything seems off…”
“I’ll call you.”
“Good.”
I hesitate, but I don’t kiss her. I don’t want to risk it right outside her place. I turn away and leave her there without another word.
Fuck, her taste still lingers on my lips though. She’s delicious, and that tight body is screaming for me to feel her. It’s hard to hold back, especially when she looks so good, but I know I need to take it slow.
Things are complicated.
But maybe complicated isn’t so bad, not if it still feels like this.
6
Chloe
Several days pass and I fall back into my routine. The only difference is I keep texting back and forth with David. We don’t see each other because the season is starting to ramp up and he’s busy with practice and preparing for the first game of the year next weekend, but I’m still thinking about the way he kissed me, the way he touched me.
“What are you smiling about?” Sara asks me one night. I’m lounging on the couch in sweats and a t-shirt, holding my phone up to my nose and grinning like a moron.
“Nothing,” I say, switching out of the messaging app.
“Liar.” She flops down on the chair next to the couch and kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. She has a thick textbook in her hands, something about the Civil War. “I can tell you’re texting someone.”
“It’s nothing, seriously.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You’ve been so mysterious lately. Ever since that thing with the paper.”
I give her a look. “I keep telling you, that was just some dickhead, but it’s cleared up now.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She hesitates. “I’m just concerned, is all.”
“Well, don’t be. I’m fine. And I’m not texting anyone important.”
“You’re totally lying but whatever.” She laughs and stretches. “Oh my god, I swear, if I have to read about one more battle, I’m going to poke my eyes out.”
“You’re a history major, don’t you love battles?”
“Hell no,” she says. “I’m into the politics. Give me some long-winded political speeches and I’ll pull out all that subtext like ribbons. But these battle scenes are just like fingernails on a chalkboard to me.”
“Huh,” I say. “You’re weird. I think most people are the opposite.”
“Most people are wrong,” she says, matter of fact. “And I still think you’re texting someone.”
“Let it go,” I say as my phone buzzes. I look at it and grin a little bit, but then catch myself. “Don’t.”
Sara rolls her eyes. She goes back to reading and I go back to texting David about all the inconsistencies in Star Trek and how he’s a total freaking nerd. Although I really love it.
I get up and head to bed about an hour later. I have an early morning class the next day. Sara barely looks up from her book to say goodnight. I do my nightly routine and crawl into bed. I hate to stop texting David, but I really do need the sleep. I curl up and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me, even though I keep thinking about him, about his kiss, about his muscular body pulling me against him.
My phone ringing wakes me up. I look around the room and the first thing I notice is the time on the clock. It’s after midnight. I groan a little bit and realize I’ve been asleep for a couple of hours and didn’t even realize it. I sit up and grab my phone as it keeps ringing. I’m too tired to check the front screen to see who it is and just swipe to answer.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“You fucked with the wrong person.”
The voice is low, distorted, but the words wake me up. I frown at the phone then hold it to my ear. “What? Who is this?”
“You fucked up,” the distorted voice says. It sounds like something from a bad horror movie. “You fucked with the wrong person. You think you can just get away with being a selfish little bitch? You. Fucked. Up. And now I’m coming for you.”
“Who the hell is this?”
But the phone disconnects.
I sit there and stare at it for a long moment before the feeling of sitting in the dark contracts down on me. I’m suddenly very aware of my dark room, of my clock glowing, of every sound around me. I get up, pull on a sweatshirt, and turn on my light. I pace around at the foot of my bed until I grab my phone again and call the only person I can think of.
“Yeah?” David says, answering on the fourth ring.
“Hey, uh, it’s me.”
“Chloe?” He sounds like he was dead asleep. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m so sorry. Uh, I just got this, uh, this phone call. And I’m pretty freaked out right now, I didn’t know who to call and—”
“Hey, slow down,” he says, and I realize that I was speaking rapidly. I take a breath to calm myself.
“I got a phone call a minute ago,” I say. “The voice was all, like, deep and weird, like it was a robot or something. And it just kept saying that I fucked up. That I fucked with the wrong person.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. When he speaks again, he sounds more awake. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just freaked out,” I say. “David, what the hell was that?”
“I’ll come get you.”
“Wait, you don’t have to,” I say. “It’s late and I know you have practice and—”
“I’ll be there in ten,” he says, and the line disconnects.
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. I think about calling him back, telling him not to come. It was just a prank call, totally fine, no big deal. I keep telling myself that, over and over again, but after five minutes I grab some clothes, shove them into a bag, and grab my toothbrush from the bathroom. I head downstairs just as his truck pulls up.
I climb into the passenger side and look at him. “I’m really sorry,” I say.
He puts a hand on my knee. “Don’t apologize,” he says, and pulls out. “What else did he say?”
“Just that I fucked up.” I try to remember, but that’s all I can think of. “How do you know it was a he? Maybe it was a girl changing her voice.”
“It was Erik,” he says, his face calm.
I want to argue, but I know I can’t. Erik’s the only person that makes sense. Nobody else would call me up and say any of those things. I close my eyes and let out a slow sigh.
“So he’s not done,” I say.
“He’s just trying to scare you.” David sounds angry, but his face seems passive. “He’s trying to get back at you.”
“It’s working.”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Come stay at my place tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about what to do about him.”
“Fine,” I say, then tilt my head a little and smile. “Hey, maybe it was you that called. If you wanted me to come sleep over, you didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”
He laughs a little. “I’m a little more direct than that, Chloe. When I want you, you’ll know it.” He gives me a look and I feel a little shiver run down my spine.
He turns down his street and parks the truck out in front of his apartment. The building is a little bit newer than the others buildings in the area, and he uses a key fob to buzz us through the front door. We climb up some steps and he unlocks his door on the right, holding it open for me.
“I’ll take the couch,” he says, leading me back to his room. I expect it to be a mess, like any other single guy, but it’s surprisingly clean and clear of clutter. He has a large dresser, a big queen-sized bed with simple dark blue sheets, and three movie posters on the wall, all from the original Star Wars movies.
I groan when I see them. “You nerd.”
“They’re original,” he says. “The original theatrical release posters.”
I hesitate and tilt my head. He’s right, they’re the vintage style, and they do look like they were creased at some point. “Okay, kind of cool.”
“Very cool.” He puts his hand on my lower back and pulls me against him. I look up into his eyes as he kisses me, slow and deep. I moan into that kiss, unable to help it, as my heart leaps up into my throat.
“David,” I say.
“I know.” He lets me go. “You take the bed.”
“We could… share.”
He laughs. “If I get in that bed with you, Chloe, you’re going to end up naked. I promise I won’t keep my hands off you.”
I bite my lip. “Is that such a bad thing?”
He stares into my eyes and doesn’t move. But then he moves forward, his fist coming up into my hair, taking it tight. He backs me up until we’re against the bed. “Listen,” he whispers in my ear. “I want you. But you need to understand that we’re in a tricky position.”
He releases my hair and pushes me back. I land on his bed. It’s comfortable, a little springy, but with good sink. I stare up at him, my lips parted, leaning back on my hands. He kneels down in front of me, spreading my legs wide. He reaches forward and takes off my sweatshirt, throwing it on the floor.
“I thought you said you weren’t sleeping with me tonight,” I whisper.
He kisses me and I suck in a breath through my nose. It feels good, having him between my legs. “I’m not,” he whispers in my ear. “Just giving you a little taste.” He kisses my neck, my throat, then pulls at the hem of my shorts. I lift my hips and he slides them off, spreading my legs wider. I’m wearing just a pair of black panties and my heart’s racing as he kisses down along my inner thighs. He moves back up and bites my lip as his fingers move down between my legs and begin to tease along my soaking spot.
I moan into that kiss as he pushes my panties aside and begins to work my clit. I’m soaking wet, dripping for him, my body pulsing with need. The lights from outside leak in through his curtain and he looks incredible in the low light. I bite his lip and he grunts as he slides two fingers deep inside my pussy. I toss my head back and moan as he moves down between my legs again, this time pulling my panties off.
His tongue finds my clit, swollen and begging for him. It feels like heaven as his mouth sucks and licks me, driving me wild, making my back arch with pleasure. I grab onto his hair, supporting myself on one hand, fingers digging into his scalp. He grunts and licks me harder, sucks me faster, his fingers moving up to slide deep inside.
“Oh, god,” I moan. “I’ve never… oh my god. This feels so fucking good.”
He teases me with his fingers and kisses me. I breathe deep as I taste my pussy on his lips. “You’ve never had a man that knows what he’s doing,” he whispers.
“No,” I admit. “Oh my god. I definitely haven’t.”
He smirks and drops back down between my legs, his fingers fucking me, his mouth licking and sucking my clit.
Pleasure wraps all over me and I lose myself to it. I know I shouldn’t, I know this is so risky and a little wrong, but it feels so good. His tongue is incredible, he’s gorgeous, and I let myself get transported away. My fingers grip the soft cotton comforter, curling the fabric into my fingers, as my back arches. My muscles tense and I feel like I might break into pieces, shatter into a beautiful diamond, and I want it to happen. The certainty floods me, and oh, god, I don’t know what to do.
I want him to break me into tiny pieces. I want him to put me back together again, so slowly, one shard at a time.
I reach down and grab his hair, moaning his name. Sweat beads along my skin as my face flushes. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. His tongue and lips suck and work my pussy and clit, driving me wild, and I whisper his name, unable to help myself. “Oh, god, David,” I moan. “Oh my god. Keep going.”
He doubles his effort, fingers sliding in deep to fuck me. I lie back on the bed, my hair fanned out behind me, and I stretch my arms up above my head. I gasp, writhing my hips, as the pleasure mounts faster, faster, mounts so high I think I might lose my mind.
I come against his mouth as he licks me, sucking my clit, driving me wild. I gasp and moan as it fills me, swirls me around, leaves me quivering and moaning and smiling like an idiot on the bed. He finishes me off and leans back. I barely manage to sit up on one elbow, my hair a frizzy mess, my body trembling, my cheeks tingling. He comes up and kisses me, and I can still taste myself on his lips.
“Now,” he whispers, “go to sleep.”
“What?” I manage.
He stands up, a smirk on his lips. “Go to sleep,” he says again. “Bathroom’s just over there. I’ll be out on the couch.” He heads to the plain white door with smooth, fresh paint, and glances over his shoulder at me. His devilish eyes seem to sparkle in the moonlight. “You taste good, little Chloe. And now you’re all mine.”
He leaves without a word, shutting his door with a click.
I lean back on his bed and laugh. I can’t help myself. This is all so absurd, but that felt so good, and I’m just riding high on the pleasure of his tongue.
Soon though, I manage to pull back his comforter and sheets. I curl up on his bed, not bothering to get undressed. He has two pillows, one fluffy firm, and the other flatter and softer. I pick the firmer of the two and tuck it under my head. I breathe deep and can smell him on the sheets.
I close my eyes and smile, willing sleep to come tak
e me away.
7
David
I wake up on the couch early the next morning. I reach over to my simple wooden coffee table and grab my phone. It’s a little after five, and the sun’s just starting to peek through the blinds. I sit up, take a deep breath, and let it out. My apartment looks still and calm, and I slowly stand up and stretch.
My bedroom door is still shut. I use the bathroom, brush my teeth, then head into my small kitchen. There’s just enough counter space for a toaster oven, a drip coffee maker, and my drainboard. I keep my place neat and clean for the most part, so the sink’s empty and the clean dishes are stacked up on the board. I put them away quietly then make some coffee. The black machine burbles at me and I stare as the glass carafe slowly fills.
I grab a blue Fiestaware mug from the cabinet, a heavy thing with a small loop handle, and place it down on the counter. I fill it with coffee, take a sip, and stare at the cabinet for a long moment.
Chloe is sitting in my bed right now.
The thought jolts me awake. It was like last night had been a dream. But no, I definitely woke up on my couch, and she’s definitely in my bed right this second.
And I definitely licked her delicious honey pussy until she came on my tongue.
I whistle a little tune as the coffee starts to do its work. I grab a frying pan from a hanging pot rack I have over the sink and start cooking some eggs. I make some toast, set some butter and jam out on the table, and by the time I’m finished making breakfast, I hear my bedroom door open.
Chloe comes out, her dark hair messy. She’s still wearing the same clothes she had on last night, a big sweatshirt and lightweight cotton shorts. She smiles a little and leans up against the wall, a few feet from one of my Godfather posters. “Morning,” she says.
“Coffee’s fresh and I just finished cooking. Hungry?”
