Love's Learning Curve (24 page)

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Authors: Felicia Lynn

BOOK: Love's Learning Curve
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The coaches come in, identify some of the pivotal plays, and thankfully, talk business quickly before releasing us.  I’m out the door before they can even finish the sentence and rushing through the back halls to the gates.

The park is empty with the exception of a few lingering workers and fans, but I see her immediately.  She’s wearing cute fitted jean shorts that end just above mid-thigh with a couple of well-placed holes.  She has gorgeous legs.  Her tank top is baggy in the school colors, and I’ve never been prouder.  The only thing better would be to get her in a shirt with my name on it. 
Hmmm … goals.

When I finally have her in my arms, I kick myself for waiting a week to make it happen.  It’s all on me.  I could have found time during the week.  I chose to avoid this, but I realize my loss immediately.  The kiss to her forehead is instinctual.  I need the feeling.  I crave the live wire shock of energy that rushes between us.  She feels it too; her breath catches, and I just hold on enjoying the moment.

Her tipped lips make her eyes sparkle, and that little gift is enough to soothe the loss of my lips on her.  I can’t wait to get my lips back on hers.  Talk about magic.  That’s as good as it gets for me so far.

I lead her through the back halls and out to the team parking lot, avoiding the locker room and any possible ridicule from the guys.  I’m thrilled when I don’t run into anyone as we walk to my truck.

I don’t know what she wants to do tonight.  She may have plans; even though I can’t imagine it’s anything I’d want to do, if it means being with her, I’ll invite myself to tag along.  I need to make up for a week’s time.  “What’s your plan tonight, babe?”  I ask hopeful that she doesn’t have anything planned, and I don’t have to share her attention.

“I was going to ask you the same.  I have nothing planned except for a new book release that downloaded on my Kindle app and is waiting to be read.”  She shrugs.  I put her into my truck and feel the arm between my legs twitch to life when I wrap the seat belt around her. 

Well ... look at that.  You’ve woken up and do like women.  I was right.  My cock has become selective, and buttercup is the only flavor of interest.  I approve.

I walk around to the driver’s side and hop in the truck. I quickly start the engine, anxious to get out of here.  “I have no plans except to be where you are for the duration of the evening until you are ready to go back to your place and sleep.” I pause, thinking.  But I can’t really take her out anywhere until I’ve showered.  I usually shower in the locker room after the game, but I was in a little bit of a rush tonight for a specific reason.  And she made it worth my while the second she was in my arms.

“You choose what sounds interesting.  I’ll do whatever you want, but I need to run home and shower really quick.  It’ll take me no more than ten minutes if that’s okay?”  I ask, hoping she wouldn’t be uncomfortable with me alone in the house.

“Aren’t you tired?”  It’s a simple question, but the effects it has on me are more.  “What do you normally do after a game?” she asks, not showing any signs of concern about me getting naked with her in another room.  That gives me hope, even though I’ll have to take a couple of extra minutes to deal with my throbbing cock in the shower.  I can’t have her within touching distance for the evening without wanting to bend her over the couch if I don’t do something about the issue.

Shit.  She had asked a question before my plans to paint the wall of my shower with my swimmers sidetracked me.  “Honestly, I don’t go out after games.  I go home, sit on my couch, and order pizza.  But I don’t normally have company to entertain.  Let’s go out for pizza then I won’t break tradition.”  Glancing at her, I hope she sees how much I appreciate her being with me.

“I’m okay with sticking with your routine.  We could rent a movie and order pizza if you don’t mind the company?” she asks shyly.  I briefly contemplate the advantages and disadvantages of having her in my house for the evening with the advantages being all of it, but the disadvantages being all of it as well.  I agree to it anyway, happy to have her to myself with minimal distractions except probably a chick flick.  With any real luck, my TV will be broken or, better yet, someone will have stolen it, and I’ll have her eyes on me all evening.  One can hope, but shit … it might kill me to keep my hands off her.

We pull into the parking lot in front of the townhouse.  I’m lucky enough to live alone.  I had a roommate for a short time during the beginning of my college career.  He was a teammate.  He was really good too but made some shitty decisions and ended up getting kicked off the team during spring training for using performance-enhancing drugs.  It was the biggest mistake of his life.  Competition does funny things to people.  I never got a new roommate after that. Instead, I chose to supplement the rental payment on my own.  I like my privacy, and I hate change.

I jump down out of the truck and watch as Charlie unbuckles herself and slides across the bench to me.  Her mischievous little grin highlights my weakness and the power she has on me.  I don’t step back to give her space to get out of the truck.  When she’s at the edge of the seat with her legs hanging partially out the door, I step closer between her thighs and allow myself to take advantage of the urge I’ve been resisting since I heard her voice in the crowds.  I wrap my arms around her and finally kiss her like she needs to be kissed.  I kiss her to show my appreciation for coming to watch the game, but more for being here with me now.

Feeling the softness of her lips ignites a fire between us that could quickly get out of hand.  I know the dangers of our connection.  The sparks ignite quickly.  Her mouth opens a little wider giving me entrance to properly show her just how thankful I am.  She’s definitely my drug.  God, I want more of this; I want more of her.

The soft whimper that escapes her puts my brakes on the situation like you’ve never seen.  I could explode in my pants.  I stop right away knowing I can’t push her too far no matter how many little moans and whimpers she awards me with, but I don’t want to reject her.  I pull her into me, sliding her out of the truck knowing she’ll feel the rock between my legs, but that’s unavoidable without making her feel like she’s done something wrong after I abruptly pulled away from the kiss. 

I run my cheek along the side of her neck absorbing the softness. “Buttercup, not here.  Not now.  I don’t want things to get out of hand,” I mutter into her ear.  She shakes her head with slow easy movements, nuzzling her neck closer to my mouth.  She disagrees as she tightens her grip on me, and it’s killing me.

As hard as it is, I pull myself away and lead her to the door.  I make quick work of the lock and walk in with her hand in mine.  She looks around curiously, but I don’t detect a hint of her nervousness, which is a relief.  I give her a quick tour of the downstairs finishing in the kitchen where I pull out the menu of my favorite Italian restaurant and pass it to her to choose what she’d like.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”  She shrugs.  I guide her to the couch and gesture for her to sit down.  When I press the power button on the remote, and the TV and sound come to life, I curse the bad luck of reliable electronics.  I show her how to find the onDemand movies and tell her to choose one while I run upstairs to shower and place our dinner order.

I walk away toward the stairs, pulling the shirt over my head at the foot of the stairs.  I’m anxious to take care of business so I can get back to her as quickly as possible.  I glance over my shoulder with my shirt in my hand and see her adorably curled comfortably into the corner of my leather sofa fully engaged in studying her movie options on the screen.  My heart rate spikes causing me to rush back to her for one more kiss. 
Her touch calms me.

Her eyes wander over my shirtless chest as I approach.  I stand in front of her blocking her view of the movie options.  She drops the remote into her lap and stares up at me with perfect eye contact from her sitting position.  “Like what you see, buttercup?”

She nods. “You’re beautiful, Ty, but you’re more than a gorgeous body.  I see you … all of you.”  I drop to my knees on the floor in front of her.  With my hand on the back of her neck, I pull her head to my own resting my forehead on hers so that I can look into the jewels of her eyes.  I don’t kiss her.  This connection is enough. 
She sees me. 
And fuck me, I believe her.

I’ll never be able to hide from her anymore, and if I did, any attempts would fail.  I know that now, but learning to understand and accept all that she is and has to offer is something I’ll look forward to studying up on.  “This … whatever is happening between us, it’s a learning curve for me too,” I say quietly.  “I know these are new experiences for you.  I don’t want you to ever be uncomfortable.  We’ll go at your pace, and I’ll stay in line,” I assure her.

She reaches out with her hands bringing them to each side of my torso.  Her touch is soft but intentional.  Against all better judgment on my part, I allow her to press her lips to mine in a kiss she initiates on her own.  I will myself to keep it together and not allow either of us to push things faster than she’s ready.  I need to take this slow for both of us.  I can’t hurt her.

 

 

I’m so comfortable wrapped up in the Red Sox blanket that was folded on the couch.  I’m cuddled next to him on the sofa with my back resting against his chest and his strong arms around me.  His hold on me is so snug I’m pretty sure I will never want to get up.  I love the way his fingers softly run along my arms.

The end of the movie is coming soon.  I tried to choose a movie that wasn’t too girly and had some action for him as well, so I chose
Warm Bodies.
  The parts that I’ve seen of it have been cute, but we’ve been a little distracted, so I missed some big chunks.  It was apparent Ty didn’t appreciate my movie choice with the symphony of groans and sighs I’ve heard from him at all the cheesy parts.

I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen next since my attempts to further things beyond kissing have faltered many times.  He wants more as much as I do, but he keeps stopping me.  My concentration is on his every move, every breath, and every touch.  I’m all worked up, and I want to get his attention in the right place.  I need to show him I’m not fragile, and he doesn’t need to handle me with kid gloves. Pushing me away gently is still pushing me away.  As sweet as it is that he’s trying to go slow for me, if he tells me to slow down one more time, I’m going to kill him.

When the credits appear across the screen, I sit up casually and stretch my arms above my head before turning and climbing into his lap to straddle him.  With my legs resting on either side of his, I take his face into my hands and look him directly in the eyes before I rest my forehead on his just like he does me.  “Can I kiss you now, Mr. Hotshot baseball boy?”

I make the first move as our lips engage.  My hands roam his shirt-covered chest, and now that I know what’s under this shirt and the smoothness of his skin with hard muscles behind it, I want to feel it.  I find the hem of his shirt and feed my hands under it to feel his chest.  “I just want to feel you.  I want to be closer.  Please don’t push me away again,” I beg between the intensity of our quickly escalating kiss.

The growl that escapes him tells me I may have just scored.  In seconds, he’s gently flipped me onto my back on the couch.  The feel of the cold leather on my sleeveless arms sends a shiver of goose bumps over me.  Ty is hovering with his arms planted on either side of my head, watching me closely while contemplating.  I don’t want him to think anymore.  I want this.

I find the hem of his shirt and push it up again, my hands tracing the muscles up his back to his shoulders.  I want him to kiss me.  I need him to want this kiss and not resist it.  I maintain eye contact with his deep, concentrated stare.  “Please?”  I ask again, and that’s all it takes.

He gives in at that moment, and our mouths connect as his body blankets me.  He braces some of his body weight on his forearm and his fingers of that hand lace into my hair tightly.  The connection is vibrant and, unlike the previous times, he’s not holding back.  I feel the movements of his rushed breaths through my tank top leaving my nipples to harden beneath the lace constraints of my bra.  His hand makes contact with my skin around my waist and plots the course up my midsection.  His mouth leaves mine, but without separation as his lips move to my neck and across my collarbone.

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