by April Fire
“Hello?” he answered after a ring or two, sounding confused.
“Hey, it’s Emily,” I greeted him. “I was wondering if you had Sam’s number?”
“Uh, yeah,” He rustled around, sounding distracted. Then, he seemed to register what I’d said.
“Why?”
“I want to meet up with him outside training,” I replied, and he paused for a moment; I knew what he was thinking, that I’d already done a lot more than meet with him. But I wanted to get this story rolling while he was still open with me, while he was still vulnerable. Yes, it was harsh, but I needed it now.
“Sure thing,” he replied, and reeled me off his number. I typed it into my phone, thanked him, and hung up; okay, time to make this happen. I called the number Johnson gave me, and the phone rang for almost thirty full seconds before Sam picked up; I was on the brink of abandoning the call before I heard his voice, distant and echoey, down the line.
“Um, hello?”
“It’s Emily,” I jumped straight in. “What are you up to right now?”
“I’m at some family thing,” he replied with a sigh. I felt a twinge of sadness when I remembered how far away my own parents were, then thankfulness when I recalled what they’d have had to say about my current state.
“Oh, sorry to disturb you-“ I prepared to hang up, but he spoke again.
“If you’re offering me a way out, I’ll take it,” he promised, turning away from the clatter and chat in the background of the call.
“Then I guess I am,” I leaned back on the bed and grinned. “Where do you want to meet?”
“Anywhere but the bar?” he suggested.
“Your call,” I responded, already reaching for my clothes.
“There’s a coffee place not far from yours, it’s open late. See you there in half an hour?”
“Sure thing,” I agreed, pulling on my pants and getting to my feet.
“See you soon.”
He hung up, and I scrambled to grab my Dictaphone. Now I just had to figure out how to get him to see my side of the story, and get the best possible hook for my article in return.
Chapter Eight
As I made my way across town, I flexed my fingers against the wheel and let out a small sigh of relief. Jesus, thank God I was out of there.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love my family. It was just that sometimes I found it quite hard to like them. I know everybody feels the same way once in a while, but with my parents, it was getting harder and harder to keep the happy face on for prolonged periods of time.
As soon as I was through the door, Mom had been on my back about how training was going, where the team was playing next, and whether or not I’d gotten the pay rise she had insisted I ask for since the last time we saw each other. I knew it came from a good place, but none of this had been relevant before I started hitting the big time; in fact, I could still remember the looks of their faces when I told them that I wasn’t going to go to college.
“And how long will you be dedicating to this…hockey stuff?” Dad furrowed his brow, taking Mom’s hand comfortingly. He hadn’t been to see one of my games at that point, and it would be another year and a half before he turned out to the stadium to watch me play.
“As long as it takes,” I shrugged. “I know it seems crazy, but-“
“Think of everything you could be doing with your life!” Mom exclaimed, cutting me off. She had always been the more emotional of the two of them. “You could be…God, you could be traveling the world. Getting a good job. Meeting a nice girl…”
“I can still do all of those things,” I reminded her gently. “I just want to try out this hockey stuff first. See how far I can go.”
“And what kind of prospects would you have for your career if you stayed there? At the Ravens?” Dad pressed, leaning forward.
“The Crows,” I corrected him. “I don’t know, but I want to give it a try. Coach says I’m good enough to make a career out of it, if I want to, so-“
“And what would he know?” Mom snapped. “He’s been at that place for years and he hasn’t exactly made anything of himself.”
“We’re doing better than we have done in a long time!” I protested. “Please, I’m not asking for money, or-“
“You best not be,” Dad shot back sharply. “Because we’re not paying for you when all of this goes up in smoke. You going to get another job to support yourself while you’re at it?”
“I won’t have time,” I shook my head. “But I won’t need one-“
“They’re barely paying you enough to live under our roof, let alone one of your own,” Mom replied tersely. “You can’t stay here forever, Sam.”
“I don’t want to!” I narrowed my eyes without thinking, my back already up at their comments. Mom raised her brows at me, and I knew I’d overstepped the mark.
“Well, then, maybe you should go,” She nodded to the door. “If you’re so certain you can make it with all this hockey stuff.”
“I’m not certain,” I admitted. “But I want to try.”
“Fine,” Dad held his hands up. “But don’t come crawling to us when this doesn’t work out for you, you hear?”
I moved out later that week, onto the couch of one of my teammates. It would be a few months before I could afford a bed of my own. Things cooled down after a while, but even now, my parents didn’t seem to regard my hockey as anything other than a hobby that had vastly overstayed its welcome. And yet, I knew they loved having a son who was so well-known about town, and that was what annoyed me the most. They wanted me as a trophy and nothing more, and I had to admit, it was getting harder and harder to pretend like I didn’t notice.
I made my excuses, and left right after I got the phone call from Emily; it wasn’t exactly a vastly preferable alternative, but it would do for now. After a few minutes, I drew up to a halt outside the coffee shop, and spotted Emily nursing a coffee through the window. She glanced up, and when she laid eyes on me, offered me a small wave.
I made my way inside, picked up a drink, and joined her at the table.
“Hey,” she smiled up at me as I sat down, and then apparently took in my expression and frowned. “You okay?”
“Just family stuff,” I shrugged. “You know.”
“Uh, yeah,” she replied, not taking her eyes off of me. “What is your family like?”
I glanced around for her voice recorder, and couldn’t see it. That was a relief- I wanted to be able to talk without worrying that every word out of her mouth had a double-meaning attached to it.
“Ugh,” I grunted. “Irritating. You know? They spent so long criticizing me for wanting to play sports for a living, and then as soon as I started getting noticed suddenly they can’t wait to show me off.”
“Do they know about the offer?” She cocked her head to the side, and I could see her analyzing me. I felt a little shiver of annoyance. It felt like everyone I spoke to these days had an ulterior motive for conversation with me, had something they wanted, and it was starting to get on my nerves.
“No,” I shook my head. “Just you and Johnson.”
“What do you think they’d tell you to do if they did?” she prompted me.
“I think they’d push me to take it,” I shrugged, wrapping my hands around my drink to warm them against the cold of the evening outside. “Which is why I don’t want to talk to them about it.”
“So you’re leaning towards not going?” she asked gently, and my head snapped up. It felt as though my hackles had risen all of a sudden, and I didn’t like it. I wasn’t used to feeling out of control, but I could feel the mist of discontentment descending as I looked at her.
“I’m not leaning towards anything,” I shot back. “Except making my own fucking decision for once in a while.”
She held her hands back and leaned back, as though putting space between us was the only way she could feel safe. I felt instantly embarrassed by my sharpness; she didn’t deserve this. We barely knew each other, and
she was just here to try and get her story.
“Sorry,” she replied, her tone defensive. We stared at each other across the table, and a moment of loaded silence lurked between us for a second.
“I just…I don’t want people telling me what to do, or thinking less of me for the decisions I make,” I tried to keep my voice steady but I knew that the words were tumbling out of me without restraint.
“I wasn’t trying to push you either way,” She lowered her voice, glancing around as a few people glanced over in our direction to see what the commotion was about. “I was just asking, for the article.”
“Oh, so this is all going in?” I threw my hands in the air. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here to talk to you about this.”
“It won’t go in if you don’t want it to,” she promised. “This could just be some background research, it’s cool.”
She paused for a moment, staring at me, examining me closely as though she was looking for something else, something new.
“What is it?” I demanded. Her eyes seemed to be penetrating me, deeper than I felt comfortable with.
“You came out here to talk to me about this?” she wondered out loud. I shrugged, and then nodded.
“I guess,” I mumbled. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I supposed she was right; I had needed to come out and blow off some steam after the bullshit of spending an evening with my family. It wasn’t like I could call up one of my teammates or whatever; they’d be out drinking and partying, and the last thing they wanted was me dropping a massive downer over their good time.
“Is there…no-one else you can talk to about this?” she asked gently, cocking her head at me.
I frowned at once; she was onto me, and I hated that. I needed something to throw her off the scent, needed some way to distract her…and then I found my eyes drifting down to her mouth. God, it had felt good on me the night before. She flushed slightly, and I knew she could tell what I was thinking. I smirked at her, and she smirked right back- fuck, were we really doing this? Less than one day after we agreed that it wouldn’t happen again?
Before I could stop myself, I leaned across the table, slipped my hand around the back of her neck, and kissed her. I was glad the place was almost empty, less gossip to go around, fewer people to bear witness to what was about to happen. I pulled back, and she met my gaze, her breath coming quicker than before. Mine was too. I let my eyes trail down her body, and flashed back to the sight of it writhing on top of me. Jesus, I needed this girl, needed her bad, needed her right that second.
“My place is just around the corner,” she suggested, and we got shot a look of deep and barely restrained disapproval from an old man sitting opposite us. We exchanged a look, and she giggled, sounding giddy.
“Let’s go,” I held my hand out to her, the awkwardness of the conversation forgotten at once as I felt the heat that had been between us the night before growing once again. She slid her hand into mine, and we left the coffee shop, our drinks abandoned, and our bodies pressed as tightly together as was appropriate to be seen in public.
Chapter Nine
As soon as we were through the door, our clothes were coming off; I knew he was just trying to divert my attention from the seriousness of the discussion we’d been having, but I couldn’t resist him. I assumed that our attraction existed only after a few drinks, but it turned out that it sprang to life whenever we were alone together.
As he cast aside his shirt, he reached for me, tucking his hand behind my head and pulling me in for another kiss. It was as explosive as the one back at the coffee shop, but instead of promising more, it delivered. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I was brought back to the night before, how good he had felt inside me. I didn’t even give enough of a shit to think about the empty pizza box on the floor, or my cast-aside clothes, or the fact that I was meant to be chasing a story right now, as Sam backed us both up on to the bed, I couldn’t think of anything but him. We fell down on to the messy covers, and he clambered on top of me, running his lips across my collarbone.
I slid my hands over his back, trying to ignore the nagging part of my brain that told me this was a bad idea. Weren’t bad ideas like this secretly really fucking sexy? I had never done the forbidden thing before, and I couldn’t believe how hot it was. He moved his head up to kiss me hard, and I grabbed his face and pulled him closer. His stubble was rough against the pads of my fingers, as I caressed up his jaw and behind his head. I loved the weight of him on top of me, loved that I could feel the strength in his body as I trailed my fingers down his arms.
We were already naked, and I could feel his erection pressing hard into my thigh. I was about to shift my body slightly so he could enter me and we could finally get what we both wanted, but then I remembered: condoms.
“Have you got a-?” I asked, and he leaned off of me to grab the packet from his jean’s pocket. He pulled it out and dangled it in front of me tantalizingly, and then stuck it on the bedside table.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, leaning down once again, but this time, he started working his way down my body, kissing my neck, running his teeth over my nipples, and finally grazing down my stomach until he was kneeling between my legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, staring intently as he parted my thighs in one gentle motion. He looked up at me, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, and then began to lower his mouth towards me. He took his time, making sure that I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin before he so much as touched me. I squirmed below him, silently urging him to go faster and get there quicker. But, as soon as he did, it became clear that it was worth the wait.
He sealed his lips around my clit and began to suck lightly, sending spasms of pleasure across my lower body. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, my mouth falling open slightly as he ever-so-lightly flicked his tongue out against my clit. It was almost too good, my pussy too sensitive to his touch,even better than the night before, with both of us sober and in control and-
My brain rattled to a halt as he moved to gently suck on my pussy lips, my body arcing up in response to his touch. Fuck. He moaned slightly, sending vibrations across my skin, and another shock of arousal through my system. I had never been with a guy who actually seemed to enjoy going down on me, and it was an edifying experience. He buried his face into my pussy, tasting every inch of me, running his tongue around my inner lips and across my slit, taking his sweet time. I ran my hands through his hair and gripped lightly, scratching my nails over his scalp to silently confirm to him that yes, this was working, and yes, I wanted more.
He returned his attention to my clit, and slowly pushed a finger inside of me as he did so; he moved slowly within me, turning his finger this way and that as if getting to know every part of me. My hips lifted off the bed, practically of their own accord, and I let out a small moan; I was soaked, my pussy throbbing as I grew closer and closer to coming. But I didn’t want to--at least, not yet.
“Fuck me?” I asked, managing to prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. The words almost didn’t make it out of my mouth once I laid eyes on him, his gorgeous face between my legs- but I knew I wanted to come with him inside of me. He pulled his head back, mouth glistening with my juices, and smiled broadly.
“Whatever you want,” he climbed back on top of me and kissed me once again, so I could taste myself on him; it was curiously erotic in a way it had never been with my other partners. Maybe because it didn’t seem like any of them were enjoying themselves half as much as him. He reached for the condom and sheathed himself quickly, before taking one of my legs and draping it over his shoulder. He kissed the sensitive spot on the inside of my knee as he positioned himself at my entrance and then, in one swift motion, pushed himself inside of me.
“Fuck!” I gasped, reaching up to grip his arms as he thrust almost his entire length into me in one swift motion.
“You okay?” he panted, and I nodded. It was just a shock to the system, how go
od he felt-I almost came right there and then. But he slowed down, took his time, and began to fuck me, allowing me to get used to the sensation. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on to me, so I could inhale his scent as we screwed. I sank my nails into his back and raked them across his skin, eliciting a small moan for my troubles. I wasn’t sure how long we were like that. It could have been a few minutes, could have been an hour, but I could have gone all night. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts, and savored the way he felt buried inside me up to the hilt. I couldn’t believe I’d almost talked myself out of this only this morning. To think, if we’d stuck to our guns, none of this might have happened.
He flipped me on top of him, as we had been in the car, and I sat up straight, placing my hands on his chest to balance myself. Fuck, he looked good--gripping my hips, he guided me up and down on top of him. I ground my hips down as far I could, forcing him inside of me, and watched as his face contorted with pleasure. I loved getting that reaction out of him, loved seeing him practically speechless from how good I felt, and suddenly, I realized I was on the brink of coming. The sight of him like that had, apparently, been enough, and I slipped my hands between my legs and stroked my clit a few times, coaxing myself over the edge. I closed my eyes, my nails tensing against his skin, focusing in on the only thing I wanted in that moment,and then, finally, I came.
And, my God, was it worth the wait. I shuddered on top of him, my shoulders hunching and shivering and my thighs tensing as my orgasm shuddered through my body. A few seconds later, I felt his fingers tighten against my skin, and his cock flex and twitch inside of me as he reached his own climax. Exhausted, I lay down on top of him, and we kissed once again. He was still inside me, and I could feel his cock slowly growing still as our tongues met lazily. Then, I drew myself off of him, rolled to the side, and shot him a coy look.