by Romi Hart
Literally. I was glad to be wearing tight jeans that day.
She walked over to me as if in slow motion, her hair flowing behind her and her chest bouncing seductively from the cut low top. I wondered if Kassie had any idea how gorgeous she was.
Of course, she did.
I kept my cool though and acted like I’d hardly seen her. It worked, like I knew it would. She called out to me and whisked right over to me. She was all smiles, and her lips were slick with shimmery pink gloss again.
Damn. Those lips!
With those beautiful luscious lips, the hot little cheerleader asked me out to dinner. I couldn’t believe how well my ignoring tactics had worked.
It couldn’t have been better timing. I had practice after the EWB meeting, giving me a pragmatic excuse for turning her down and instead, asking her to go to the Phi Kappa Chi party that night.
What she didn’t know was that after practice, I’d insist on stopping by my apartment to shower before the party. I lived by myself off campus, giving Kassie and I plenty of time to be alone together.
All through practice, I had to shake off a raging hard-on just waiting to pop up at the thought of her in my bed. She sat in the bleachers in that hot as fuck outfit watching me pitch.
Obviously, I wanted to show off my skills in front of her. Up on the mound, I could feel her eyes on me, pumping me up. With all that passionate energy running through my veins, I ended up throwing a 102 mph pitch, the fastest I’d ever thrown before. Aroldis Chapman of the Yankees held the record for the fastest recorded pitch in a major league baseball game at 105.1 mph.
At 102 mph, I was on fire. Kassie literally made me hot.
Coach Thomas scolded, “Romero, save that heat for the game.”
Jordan cocked his head to where Kassie sat. “Coach, he’s just showing off for his girlfriend.”
Coach Thomas looked over at Kassie, who — thank God — couldn’t hear us. “Well, son. I think you’ve impressed her enough. Take it easy.”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “Coach, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Romero, I don’t care who she is, but make sure she’s at all the games. You’re throwing smoking ass heat right now.” Coach Thomas showed me the speed stats of my pitches for that day. Most were in the high 90’s.
On the ride to my place, I kept glancing over at Kassie’s legs and low cut shirt. She looked incredible. I couldn’t wait to get her back to my place and ravage her body.
Opening the door for her, I watched as Kassie walked in hesitantly. Her lips were pressed into a nervous smile. I wondered if it was the first time she’d ever been in some guy’s apartment. The last thing I wanted was for Kassie to feel uncomfortable and nervous around me.
If I didn’t find a way to loosen her up and calm her nerves, I’d never be able to get her comfortable enough for me to make my move. The sooner I had her riding on my cock, the sooner I could get her out of my mind and move on with my life. I’d never spent that much time and effort in my life thinking and plotting over a girl.
Kassie sat uneasily on the edge of the couch. “Do you have something to drink? Something light to pre-party with?”
Kassie was onto something. To be honest, now that I had Kassie alone in my apartment, I was feeling a touch of the nerves, too. This bothered me immensely because I’d never been anxious around a girl in my life.
I had the perfect drink in mind: Kalimotxo. In Argentina, they called it Jesus juice. While in Chile, it was called jote.
“Great idea!” Gesturing for her to follow me into the kitchen, I asked, “You ever have Kalimotxo? It’s called different things in a ton of different places, but it’s basically red wine and Coca-Cola.”
Kassie’s face screwed up in disgust as her hand covered her mouth. “That sounds really gross.”
She giggled when I dropped my mouth open playfully. “What? It’s delicious. Trust me.”
Kassie twisted her face in amusement as I dramatically pulled out a bottle of ridiculously cheap red wine from my wine rack. “Got a nice bottle of red wine for you, too!” I held up the infamous Trader Joe’s Two Buck Chuck, Cabernet Sauvignon.
Scrutinizing the label, Kassie cracked up. “Two buck chuck?”
“It’s three dollars now, but yes. This is the legendary two buck chuck wine,” I said with pride.
The wine glasses were in the cabinet behind where she was leaning on the counter. Reaching over her to grab two glasses, I caught a whiff of her sweet floral scent. I placed the glasses on the counter next to her, thrilled to be so close to her and all alone in my kitchen.
I screwed off the bottle top. “Kalimotxo is a simple recipe.”
Kassie watched me intently. “What is it?”
“Equal parts red wine,” I said as I poured the wine into our glasses. I held a finger up and spun around to the refrigerator. Taking a bottle of Coca-Cola out, I said, “And equal parts coke.”
Kassie crossed her arms playfully while I opened the soda bottle. “Okay. Sounds revolting, but I’ll give it a try.”
I winked at her as I poured the fizzy dark liquid into our wine glasses. “You’ll love it.”
Kassie took the wine glass in her hand bringing the rim to her lips. Her face was braced for the worst.
“One more ingredient!” I said, holding my index finger up.
Kassie pulled the glass away from her lips. I grabbed ice cubes from the freezer and dropped them into our glasses.
She raised her eyebrows up impishly. “Are you all done? Can I drink now?”
Clinking my glass with hers, I said, “Yes. You may drink!”
Kassie took a tiny hesitant sip but soon after took another. “You’re right! This is absolutely delicious!”
I took a sip from my glass. Kalimotxo was a perfect pick me up after a long day. “It’s like sangria, only with caffeine, and not a lot of alcohol. They drink this on lazy afternoons in Argentina,” I said.
Smiling, Kassie took a bigger sip. “It’s delicious. I can’t even taste any alcohol in it.”
Kassie was starting to relax around me. The hardest part of the evening was over. She put her elbows onto the counter and leaned forward. Her already short skirt rode up even more.
Oh my God. I needed to get out of these practice clothes as soon as possible.
“I’m going to hop in the shower. Make yourself at home,” I said, walking out of the kitchen.
In the shower, my dick was hard thinking about her bent over like that. It took restraint to not just jerk myself off to the thought of her. How amazing would it be to take her right there on the counter?
I reminded myself that in just a few minutes, I was going to have Kassie’s legs spread open on my cock. I couldn’t wait to suck on her big bouncy breasts.
When I got out of the shower in just a towel, Kassie, unexpectedly, was waiting for me right outside the door.
She pounced on me like a panther. “Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.” Her hands slid up and down my torso. “God, you’re so hot!” Kassie pulled my head down to kiss her, but I noticed her balance was unsteady.
I pushed her away from me to get a better look at her. She was off her ass drunk.
“Ryan. Ryan. Ryan,” she crooned. “You were right! It was an easy recipe. Half two buck chuck! Half coke! I made it all by myself.”
“How many glasses have you had?” I asked.
Kassie shrugged holding up three fingers. “Two?”
This girl was a lightweight.
Helping her over to the couch, I took note that her gait was tottering. I propped her feet up and clicked on the TV. “What all have you eaten today?”
“I had a Larabar this morning for breakfast. I skipped lunch because I was getting ready to see you,” Kassie prattled.
Getting ready to see me?
Kassie rested her head on the pillow I placed behind her head. “And then, I thought we were going to get dinner like before, but we didn’t!”
This girl was in no shape to hook up. She wasn’t in
her right mind. If Kassie and I were going to have sex, I wanted her to be able to remember it because what I was going to do to her when I was given the proper chance was going to blow her mind.
I patted Kassie’s knee. “I’m going to make us some dinner.” I handed her the remote. “Pick out something for us to watch.”
Kassie smiled wide-eyed as she flipped through the channels. "I can do that!"
She was a lightweight, but an adorable one.
I threw on some workout pants and a shirt and then headed back out to the kitchen. Looking in my fridge, I saw that I had two eggplants. Eggplant Milanesa or as my mom called it Milanesa de Berenjenas a la Parmesana, wouldn’t take me too long to make.
Once I had the eggplant slices soaking in an egg, parsley, milk, and garlic mixture, I brought Kassie a bottle of sparkling water. She was still flipping through the channels. “You find anything good?” I asked.
Her face perked up. “There’s a House marathon that starts in fifteen minutes!”
“House like Dr. House?”
Her right eye squinted playfully. “Is there another kind?”
Laughing, I headed back to the kitchen, calling out. “Perfect. I like House! The Eggplant Milanesa will be done by the time it starts."
We watched House while we ate the Eggplant Milanesa. Kassie gushed how good it was. She thanked me for going to the trouble to make her something to eat. Most girls hardly ever showed gratitude anymore. It was as if a girl was hot, she didn’t have to be polite or even say thanks after a date. Kassie was not like most girls.
I curled up on the couch with her after we had eaten. She felt so good in my arms, her body nestled against mine.
And then, the next thing I knew, we were both sound asleep.
9
Kassie
When I woke up, a faint fuzzy ache throbbed behind my eyes. Still sleeping peacefully, Ryan’s arms were wrapped around me. I could have laid there forever snuggled in his arms, but in a flash, last night’s events flew into my mind.
Omigod!
I cringed thinking about how I’d thrown myself at him. A muddled memory of me pawing at him when he got out of the shower horrified me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
But, before I could do that, I needed to carefully extract myself from Ryan’s cozy warm arms before he woke up, or else I’d have to face him. I was never going to live my blatant crazed attempt to kiss him last night down.
Date night fail. How humiliating.
I’d worked so hard to entice Ryan, and I ruined everything by getting stupidly drunk. Who would have guessed that red wine and coke would be so was refreshingly delicious? They called that Jesus juice in Argentina but it was really the nectar of the devil!
Who was I kidding? It was all my fault I’d acted like a stupid drunk girl. Ryan probably thought I was an immature Freshman that couldn’t handle her alcohol.
Admittedly, Ryan had been the perfect gentleman. If he was the bad boy everyone said he was, wouldn’t a player have just left me in my drunken state and headed out to the party to find another girl to hook up with?
He could have used my drunk girl antics to his advantage or tossed me out in the cold, but he hadn’t. He had cooked me dinner and watched House episodes with me on a Friday night.
A Friday night!
If the stories and rumors about Ryan were true, then I guessed he just wasn’t that way with me. He was kind, funny, a great cook, and a genuine gentleman, the opposite of an asshole player.
Carefully, I slid out from under Ryan's arms. As he stirred, I watched him in terror, hoping he would stay asleep. Ryan had been sweet last night, but my humiliation coursed through me.
I had to get out of there to shower, change my clothes, and devise a plan to figure out how I could regain my dignity after throwing myself at him like a groupie. Thankfully, after a few moments, Ryan’s breathing resumed a slow steady tempo. Slowly, I got up from the couch, careful to not disturb him again.
Grabbing my phone, I quickly ordered an Uber to pick me up to take me back to Boyd Hall. Before tiptoeing out of the living room, I looked down at Ryan's sleeping face. He had a cute sleepy grin.
How was I ever going to face him again? What if acting like an immature drunk girl had really turned him off?
Sighing, I openly gaped at his prominent cheekbones, brooding brow, and his soft looking lips. My phone buzzed, notifying me my Uber ride had arrived snapping me out of my fanciful trance. I took in one last look of his sleeping face, hoping I’d have another opportunity to kiss those irresistible lips soon.
On the ride to my dorm, a glumness began to bloom in my chest. I wondered if and when I’d see Ryan again, aside from running into him on campus or at Green Garden Greaux. Even with a gloomy feeling hanging over me, a smile spread across my lips.
I laughed to myself thinking about one of the House episodes last night when House went into the waiting room and diagnosed all the patients in one minute. Ryan knew all the diagnoses for each patient before House said them. He’d obviously seen the episode before, but he teased me that it was his first viewing and he was just good at diagnosing medical TV show ailments.
When I walked into my dorm room, my phone rang. It was Ryan.
I couldn’t believe he was calling me. “Hello,” I said into my phone.
“Kassie? Where are you?” Ryan’s voice sounded foggy with sleep.
Sitting on my bed, I explained, “I’m back at my dorm room.”
“Why did you leave? I was planning on making breakfast for you,” Ryan sounded genuinely disappointed.
“Really?”
Ryan laughed. “Yes! After last night, I’m going to make it my mission to be sure you eat.”
I giggled. Ryan wasn’t entirely put off by my drunken display last night. “You’re too sweet.”
“I’m coming to pick you up.” I could hear rustling in the background.
A boost of an energy shot through me. “I’m going to take a quick shower and change.”
“Okay. Twenty minutes enough time?”
“Plenty,” I replied.
Speedily, I showered and changed into something comfortable: a black and white striped slouched tee, dark blue skinny jeans, a coral pink oversize cable knit cardigan, and light grey oxfords. I’d slept in that short skater skirt all night. Today, comfort was squarely on my mind.
Ryan picked me up, smiling from ear to ear. All my worries of having to hang my head in shame for getting tipsy were for nothing.
“You’re in for a treat,” Ryan said licking his lips as he drove.
“I am?” I was actually starving and couldn’t wait for whatever Ryan had in store for me to eat.
“Yup. I’m defrosting authentic Argentinian breakfast pastries my mom sent me from Miami. We’ve got medialunas, facturas, and bizcochos.”
“Whatever those things are, the names alone sound delicious.”
Back at Ryan’s apartment, he sat me down at the kitchen table. He placed a coffee cup and saucer in front of me proudly. “This is a cafecito, Cuban coffee. I learned how to make these from growing up in Miami. It’s made with creamed sugar.”
I brought the cup to my lips and tasted the sweet coffee liquid. A delicious foamy cream floated on top. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had!”
Ryan grinned. He rushed over to the counter and brought an assortment of pastries on a platter. “I heated these up for you.” He pointed at croissant shaped pastries. “These are medialunas.” I followed his finger as he pointed at a pile of rolls. “These are facturas.” He held up a flaky biscuit, and said, “These are bizcochos.” His eyebrows shot up. “Almost forgot!” He hurried back to the oven.
“These all look so good.” I didn’t know where to start.
Ryan hustled over with a knife and small bowl full of something that looked like light brown pudding. “I made dulce de leche. You can spread this on any of the pastries if you’d like.” He placed the bowl and knife in front of me as he smiled away. “Dig
in.”
He sat across from me, grabbing a bizcocho and spreading dulce de leche on the biscuit. I followed his lead, taking a bizcocho and dolloping the thick cream between the biscuit halves. Ryan watched me as I took a bite.
I chewed in delight. “It’s so buttery and delicious, and the dulce de leche tastes incredible!”
Ryan took a medialuna happily. “Don’t be shy. This is a typical Argentinian breakfast so my mom sends me this stuff all the time.”
Finishing off the bizcocho in one big bite, I went for a factura next, splitting the soft roll open to spread a generous amount of dulce de leche. The flaky roll melted in my mouth. “Everything tastes incredible, Ryan. Thank you.”
Ryan gazed at me and raised his hand to my face. “You have a bit of dulce de leche...” Softly, his thumb swiped the corner of my mouth. He brought his thumb to his lips and licked the sweet cream off it.
Before I knew what was happening, we lunged for each other. With our mouths colliding, our tongues touched and twirled. My hands roamed underneath Ryan’s t-shirt, feeling the muscles in his back. Ryan pulled away from me to take his shirt off while I peeled off my bulky cardigan. He lifted me up onto the counter and stepped back to look at me. “You’re so beautiful.”
His passionate gaze on me made my face burn hot, rendering me speechless. Ryan reached over and dipped his index finger in the dulce de leche. With gentle care, he smeared the cream gently on my lips before his tongue licked it all off.
The heat from my face spread throughout my body particularly between my legs, which now throbbed and tingled in excitement. Gently, Ryan lifted my shirt over my head. He stepped back again to look at me.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered in a trance.
Perched up on the counter in just my lace pink bra as Ryan marveled at me, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting my breasts spill out. Ryan pounced on me then taking my right nipple into his mouth while his fingers tweaked the other.