by Whitney G.
I nodded, and he lowered his voice.
“I hope you made him look good in the piece,” he said. “He’s bragged about your writing to anyone who will listen, for weeks.”
He motioned for me to follow him, and I obliged.
He led me past all the cardio machines, then outside onto a private walkway.
Sensing my hesitation, he looked over his shoulder. “You need to talk to him, or not?”
I continued following him until we made it to a small red-brick building with a black glass door.
He typed a few digits into the keypad and stepped back. “There you go. This is as close as I’ve ever been to it.”
I stepped inside the room, only to be met with another set of doors with keypad entry.
What the hell?
I turned to look at his teammate, but he was long gone. Then I suddenly remembered what Kyle had confided in me about getting his own private gym.
Starting at the keypad, I realized that the pad read “K.S.” and called for a passcode.
I guessed a few phrases like “first round draft pick,” “Ride me,” and “I like sex,” but it didn’t open.
On a whim, I tried, “Courtney,” and the doors slowly opened—giving way to an all mirrored room with sleek black machines.
Looking sexy as usual, Kyle was sitting on a bench, his jaw clenched as he lifted weights. Shirtless and sweaty, his muscles flexed in rhythm with his arms.
His eyes met mine within seconds and he slowly set down the barbells. “Are you here to make good on that Primanti Brothers gift card thing? I’m looking forward to that sandwich.”
“The password to your private gym is my name, Kyle.”
“I’m well aware of that.” He smiled. “I changed it at the end of last semester. I thought first round draft pick or something else would be far too easy for someone to guess. Good attempt on your part.”
My heart swelled in my chest.
“I don’t see you producing those gift cards,” he said. “Isn’t that why you came up here?”
“Yes and no,” I said. “I wanted to say thank you for coming to my presentation, even though security kicked you out.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. I was actually entertained the entire time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, your lips were fascinating to watch,” he said. “I’d tell you what I was thinking, but I don’t think you can handle it.”
I blushed. “Why didn’t you sit in the audience like a normal person?”
“I didn’t want you to think that I cared that much.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, Courtney.” He pressed his forehead against mine, wrapped his arm around my waist. “I do care about you.”
“I’m starting to think that you’re the only person on campus who does.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
I shook my head. “It’s the best thing that’s happened to me in college so far.”
His mouth claimed mine within seconds, and I couldn’t help wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Wait.” I pulled my head back mid-kiss, my heart racing a mile a minute. “I can’t do this without asking you some things.”
“I think the questions can wait.”
“It’s not those.” I looked into his eyes. “Are you sleeping with anyone else?”
“We’ve discussed this, Court.” He bit down hard on my bottom lip and I moaned.
“What about a few days before we kissed in that parking lot?”
He slid his hand under my dress and yanked off my panties. “My answer won’t change.”
“Past two and a half to three months?” I sucked in a breath as he pressed his thumb against my clit. “What about then?”
He blinked, looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. Then that familiar cocky grin spread across his face as he slid two fingers deep inside of me. “I haven’t thought about anyone else since the day I met you at The Talking Vaginas.”
“The Vagina Monologues,” I corrected him.
“It’s a terrible play no matter how you say the title.” He used his other hand to tilt my chin up with his fingertips. “I haven’t been with anyone this semester, and I wasn’t with anyone last semester. I have completely turned into a pussy when it comes to you.”
He pressed his lips against mine, whispering. “Are there any more unnecessary questions, or can I finally fuck you now?”
“Yes…”
“To which question?” he asked.
“The latter.”
“Good.” His mouth met mine again, greedily kissing me as if this was the last time.
Our lips molded perfectly together as if this moment was what they'd always been made for.
Moaning, I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him dominate my mouth while his fingers still slid in and out of my pussy.
My back hit the mirror, and he briefly tore away from me. Then, grabbing my wrists with his right hand, he pinned them above my head and against the glass.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Court.” He kissed my neck. “So fucking perfect.”
I nodded, unable to say anything else.
“Put your leg on that bench for me,” he whispered, and I obliged.
He took his time kissing my neck, leaving a wet trail of passion against my collarbone.
Pushing my shirt up, he unclasped the front of my bra with his teeth. Kissing his way across my chest, he tortured my nipples with sensuous sucking that made me even wetter.
"Here." He slowly released my hands from his grip. Then he pulled a condom from his shorts and pulled down his pants.
Pressing the foil packet into my hand, he silently demanded that I put it on him.
Looking down, I sucked in a breath at the sight of it. Rock hard, it stood between us, the veins begging for a release.
I rubbed my hands up and down his length--feeling the thickness of him, and Kyle let out a slow breath.
He watched me in the mirror as I took my time rolling on the condom. His fingers threaded my hair until I was finished.
Pushing me against the glass again, he lifted my left leg and wrapped it around his waist, slowly sliding into me, inch by inch.
Once he filled me, he stalled—giving me a few moments to adjust to his thick size.
“Kyle…” I whispered his name.
“Yes?”
He kissed me, said “yes” again, but I didn’t give him an answer.
Holding me like I was weightless, he began thrusting in and out of me—keeping his eyes locked on mine.
Our mouths met with his every stroke, and the muscles in his chest flexed with his every move.
I briefly caught sight of my reflection in the wall of mirrors behind him—taking total pleasure in watching him hitting places that no other man ever had.
“Tell me you love the way that I feel inside of you,” he whispered.
“Yes…"
He buried himself deep and stilled. “Tell me, Court…”
“Yes.” I moaned as he pressed a kiss against my neck. “I love the way that you feel inside of me.”
“Will you let me feel you again?” he asked.
“Yes.” I couldn’t focus with him picking up the tempo. I was suddenly lost in him, and I never wanted our sex to end.
He continued talking to me, turning me on with the bass of his voice against his deep strokes, and I struggled to hold on for much longer.
I clawed at his neck as tremors traveled up and down my spine, as my pussy throbbed against his cock.
“Kyle. Kyle, I…” I came as he bit my lip, collapsing into his arms.
The orgasm was so intense that tears fell past my cheeks.
Holding me steady, he thrust into me a few more times, and then he stiffened and groaned, finding his own release.
“Fuck ...” He rasped, kissing my neck.
He waited a few seconds and slowly pulled out of me, then he lifted me and placed me on a bench.
“Hey.” Kyle wipe
d my face with his fingertips. “Courtney, did I hurt you?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
Unconvinced, he cupped my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. “Court, I would never want to—”
“It’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” I didn’t want him even to consider that something was wrong. “I’ve never come during sex before.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He kissed me. “I’ll be sure that always happens from here on out …”
Kyle: Then
Senior Year
Pittsburgh
* * *
I now understood why some guys lost their minds over their girlfriends as the draft neared. The logic was drained from their brains by feelings, and even though Courtney and I weren’t technically “together,” I could relate on every level.
I woke up every morning, reaching for my phone to call Court, if she wasn’t already in my arms. I showed up to The Pitt News offices during the hours when her staff had gone home, just to catch up with her for no reason. And whenever I wasn’t dealing with my new agent and preparing for the draft, I called and texted her like some type of love-sick beta male.
According to the latest insiders, the New England Falcons in Boston were now in the hunt for a wide receiver, and that meant—
Courtney will still be thousands of miles away from me in London.
“Your coach broke like every rule in the book to get you to play for Pitt.” Courtney turned around to face me in the hot tub, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I’d almost forgotten that she was in my lap, since she’d fallen asleep twice amidst the bubbling waters.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “Coach never paid me to play for him.”
“He did everything except that.” She smiled. “He really lets you have access to this vacation house whenever you want?”
I nodded.
“How many other, I mean—” She paused. “I’m having a really good time.”
“Finish the sentence that you started,” I said. “Ask me.”
“It’s none of my business.” Her cheeks reddened. “I forgot what I was going to say anyway.”
“Ask me, Courtney.”
“How many other times have you brought someone else here?”
“Twice.” I trailed a finger against her swimsuit strap.
“Was it like this?”
“Both times were with Grayson, so, no. I’ve never brought another girl here.”
“Because—”
“Because I’ve never cared about another girl enough to want to be around her for an entire weekend.” I pressed my finger against her lips. “Never, Court. You’re my only one, and you always will be.”
Courtney: Then
Senior Year
Pittsburgh
Days after our trip to his coach’s house, I knocked on Kyle’s apartment door. We had a little under six weeks left in the semester, and I needed to put a stop to this now.
No answer came, so I knocked again.
The door swung open seconds later, and Kyle stepped into the doorway, completely shirtless.
“Hey.” He smiled. “I thought you were too exhausted for round sixteen.”
“I can’t keep hanging out with you like this.” The words rushed out of my mouth.
“You came all the way down here to tell me this?” He was still smiling. “Is your phone broken?”
“I feel like our end is inevitable, so if we could just slow things way down until we go our separate ways, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Court …”
“When I like someone, I want an actual relationship. I can’t have that with you.”
“Says who?”
“Says the guy who is leaving for the league in a few weeks, the guy who—” He cut my words off with a kiss and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
He kissed me until I was breathless, not letting go until I was no longer able to speak.
“You think too damn much, Court,” he whispered, as he finally let me go. “You also worry too much about the future and things you can’t control.”
“I can control whether I let someone play me for a fool.”
“Have I done that?”
“Not yet.”
“So, you’re just anxious right now.” He smiled, trailed my bottom lip with his finger. “I like you a lot, Courtney. I don’t want to waste too much worrying about the days we have left when I we could be focused on fucking each other as many times as possible.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, but also, there’s no need to throw in the towel halfway through the game.”
“Kyle, there’s only six weeks left.”
“Plenty of time.” He kissed my lips again. “Where were you headed after you made your dramatic speech and broke up with me?”
“I wasn’t aware that we were together.”
“Then you’re the last to know.” He smiled. “Where were you going?”
“Fuel and Fuddle.”
“Mind if I join you?”
I shook my head, feeling tears prick my eyes. “Not at all.”
He must’ve noticed because he stepped closer and wiped away the tears before they could fall. “We have to appreciate the present, Court. Trust me.”
Courtney: Now
Present Day
Boston, Massachusetts
My heart somersaulted in my chest as the elevator rose up the floors of Kyle’s million-dollar condo.
A part of me wanted to tell my boss to go fuck himself for making me come here, but another part—one I couldn’t explain, wanted to see Kyle in person again. To personally let him know that whether I still had feelings for him or not, the chances of us being friends again were slim to none.
The doors glided open once I reached his floor.
Kyle was already standing in the hallway, glaring at me.
I stepped off and glared right back.
For several moments, neither of us said a word. Neither of us made a move.
Out of nowhere, he strolled over to me and cupped his hand around my neck—pressing his lips against mine.
I wrapped my arms around him, and he pushed me against the wall.
His eyes locked on mine, and all of a sudden, it felt like we were in college again.
He slid his hands down to my waist and gripped my hips, gently lifting me and walking me inside his place. He carried me to the sofa and lay me back against the cushions.
Pulling his shirt over his head, he tossed it onto the floor.
He took his time unbuttoning my blouse—pressing a hot kiss against my skin in between each one.
His familiar touch immediately awakened my body—making me remember just how perfect we once were together.
How we never should’ve let go.
Untying my pants, he pushed them down to my ankles and looped his fingers under my panties—yanking them off.
I sat up a bit and fumbled his belt buckle, but he pushed me back down.
Moving on top of me, he pressed kisses against my neck—rendering me speechless with the power of his mouth.
Trailing his way down to my stomach, he ran his hand against my thighs and spread them a bit wider.
He kept his eyes on mine as he moved lower, blowing against my clit. Then he swirled his tongue against it—making it swell against his lips.
“Ahhh …” I moaned as he sped up his rhythm, as he slipped two fingers deep inside of me.
“Court…” He unwrapped a condom and slid into me all at once, forcing me to dig my nails into his skin.
I watched him, and he watched me.
Every stroke was a deep reminder of the memories that still kept us up at night.
His lips met mine as my pussy throbbed against his cock, and as he whispered my name, we came together.
We remained
panting and entwined, both of us unable to say a word.
He slowly rolled off me, trailing his hand against the side of my face before throwing the condom away. Then, like he once did, he cleaned me up and redressed me first.
When I finally regained my strength, I stood to my feet.
“We’ll need to meet in public next Wednesday if you really want me to interview you,” I said. “In full view of the press.”
He said nothing.
“Thank you for the opportunity to finally show everyone that I’m capable of writing something great. I promise that I’ll take great care of your reasoning, and—”
“This isn’t about a fucking article, Court.” He cut me off. “As far as I’m concerned, the best thing that was ever written about me was your thesis in college, and you should publish that publicly.”
I stepped back. “You’re committing career suicide, and you want me to publish my college work?”
“I’m committing career suicide for you,” he said. “I want you back, and I don’t know any other way to make that clear. And I don’t know why I’ve waited all this time to tell you how I feel.”
“You could’ve picked up the phone.”
“You could’ve, too.”
Silence.
“I tried to reach you for over a year.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I wrote you a shit ton of letters, and I tried to find your phone number and email. I fucking tried.”
“Just like the time you met me freshman year and gave me an imaginary ride, right? Just like that?”
“Court…”
“Kyle, I’m really happy that you’re having a great career,” I said. “But there are certain words that you can’t take back, and I think that what we had in college, was just for college.”
“Can you at least hear me out?” He asked. “One drink and I won’t ask you to meet me for another Wednesday.”
“That’s a promise?”
“One-hundred-percent.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “One drink.”
He smiled and walked into his kitchen, taking out a few glasses.
When he was out of my sight, I turned around and rushed away—taking the elevator out of his place before I made the mistake of believing we could ever be anything more than we were.
