Once Should Be Enough

by Nikky Kaye

  “What?” He blinked innocently.

  “Hmph.”

  “What, Cassie? I can’t read your mind.” He started to reach for me, only to stop and wrap his arms around himself, finally appearing to feel the cold. “I wish to fuck I could right now.” He frowned.

  And waited.

  “I’m not paying you,” I finally said, straightening my sweater, trying to focus on anything but him.

  The casual shrug of his shoulders confused me. “Consider that a freebie.”

  Flustered, I rewound my scarf around my neck, refusing to look in his eyes. Good, I decided. I couldn’t really spare a hundred bucks just for a dry hump session in the quad. My face flamed again.

  As I finished fiddling with my scarf, his hand shot out to grab one end. Gently, he reeled me in. And oh god, I let him.

  “Remember,” he prodded, “I said ‘the first time’. That—” He jerked on the scarf, tightening it a fraction around my neck. “That wasn’t it.”

  Will

  She was cute when she was embarrassed. And hot as hell when she was coming. And I told her so, which led to way more cuteness.

  The quick walk to her dorm was more like a silent jog. Her mumbled thanks as she practically ran up the front steps wasn’t insulting; it was kind of funny.

  What wasn’t funny was her avoiding my texts all that weekend, then not showing up for class or lab the next week. Now she was just plain avoiding me, which was not cool.

  My shower, on the other hand, spent a lot of time in the cool position that week. I realized within a couple of days that this month would see my Internet porn bill fall and my water bill rise. Waking up with a hard cock was normal. Taking it in my hands was also normal. What can I say? I’m a guy. Rubbing one out is like blowing your nose sometimes; you just have to clear up the congestion.

  But it only took the memory of the wide-eyed look of surprise on Cassie’s face when she came to have me grunting and blowing my load against the tiles, leaving my legs weak and shaky. If she’d been with me, the speed would have embarrassed me.

  And then I would pause at the fantasy of her in the shower with me… her long dark hair streaming down her back... twisting it over one shoulder in a wet rope while she leaned forward, her hands against the tile… looking back at me, arching her ass up to me… And then I was hard again. Fuck.

  I was late for class three mornings that week. And I’ve never been so clean in my life, yet felt so dirty. As I did that week’s lab by myself, I was distracted by the fear that I’d completely screwed up our friendship. That poor fetal pig would never be the same. But I couldn’t exactly tell the TA that I had woman problems.

  There could be more than friendship there, if she’d just give it a chance. It could be—would be amazing. But did I have the confidence and persistence to break down her walls and show her how good we could be together? As the week crawled on in complete radio silence, I was ready to slam my head against the shower tile—after jacking off, of course—in frustration.

  By Saturday night, I’d decided to take the matter into my own hands. Well, okay, you could argue that I’d done that all week, but I meant confronting Cassie.

  After yet another shower, I dressed and got ready for battle. This time I threw on a hoodie. The damn woman made me shiver enough without the help of the flurries being threatened by the weather app on my phone.

  The frenetic energy of people out partying permeated the campus as I crossed it. It was only ten o’clock, but I still had to sidestep a couple of broken bottles, as well as the throngs of vapid whores and drunken frat boys. A couple of the girls tried to convince me to party with them, but I declined. When one of them threw down her Solo cup to grab my hand and try luring me to the nearest keg, I had to tell her politely to fuck off.

  All the ambient noise around me wasn’t enough to distract me from thinking about Cassie. What would I say to her? Should I apologize? Should I just fucking kiss her? The Internet—and my gut—told me that I should read her cues, but I sure wasn’t getting anywhere with texts, emails, or telepathy. Pretty soon I was going to start looking like a pathetic asshole stalker.

  My ID card wouldn’t swipe to gain me entry to the elevator in her dorm, so the security guard called the landline in her room. I knew she wouldn’t answer if I called her on my cell. My fingers worried the keys in my pocket like a talisman as the guard eyed me.

  The phone rang and rang. And rang. It was pretty obvious that either she wasn’t there, or she wasn’t answering.

  I trudged back to the quad, lost in thought. Yes, I’d truly fucked this one up. I let my mouth be led by my brain, and both of them were being jerked around by my dick.

  Once again, I was alone with my thoughts. And they were shitty company. I pulled up my hood and shoved my hands in my pockets, considering. A drink somewhere warmer might not be the worst idea.

  * * *

  I was wrong. A drink somewhere warmer was the worst idea.

  Only girls got to take advantage of the drink specials at the bar I headed to just off-campus, presumably so assholes could take advantage of them later. So my drink was watered down and the price jacked up. The crush of bodies laughing and dancing turned the temperature up in the relatively small space, so I wanted another drink as soon as I finished the first one.

  It got even hotter when I spotted Cassie on the dance floor in a very tight black dress. I didn’t even know she owned something like that. As she shimmied under the lights, I could see every bump and curve of her body, a little at a time.

  I shifted a little on the barstool, hoping that the bumps of my body could be hidden a little. Although, as I saw the guys orbiting around her, I realized that other men here weren’t being shy at all.

  One douchebag in a pink button down shirt—with a fucking popped collar, no less—moved closer to her backside, mirroring her movements from only inches away. She seemed clueless to his presence as she raised her arms up and swayed from side to side.

  I stood up from my stool as the dude behind started to reach out for her hips. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until she stepped away to yell something in the ear of a girl dancing nearby. Her friend, whose hair glowed red under the lights, laughed in response.

  Thank god. She was here with somebody, though I vaguely recognized the girl. I looked around, scanning the crowd for anyone else I knew. There were a couple of people, but nobody I would call a friend. Judging from the glassiness in the redhead’s eyes and the way she was running her hands over her body, she was one drink away from a bad decision. And it looked like popped collar was coming around for another pass, this time with an unnaturally tanned friend.

  Well, shit. It looked like I was going to talk to her tonight after all. I stripped off my hoodie and hung it on a hook by my stool, under the bar, making sure that my phone and cards were secure in my back pockets. After grabbing a bottle of water from the bartender, I wove through the crowd towards Cassie.

  The closer I got to her, the clearer I could see that the rosy flush on her cheeks was pooling on her chest as well, and her eyes were shining. She definitely had taken advantage of the ladies’ only drink specials. I tried to tell myself that I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t going to be taken advantage of, but damn, I was feeling territorial.

  I was within five feet of her when her eyes drifted shut. Her hair was down for once, but she kept twirling it back and holding it up off her neck while she danced. I could see perspiration at her hairline, and her throat glistened a little. Her lips had some shiny shit on them, and were mouthing the words to the song. And let’s just say it had pretty dirty lyrics.

  My mouth fell open a little as I scanned the rest of her body. Her dress came down to her knees, but the church length was skintight around her hips and thighs. I could see the muscles of her calves flexing as she danced in a pair of “fuck me” heels. Long sleeves covered her arms, so it was no wonder she was hot. Well, hot and hot.

  It wasn’t until she turned ful
ly away from me that I noticed there was no back to her dress. It curved from her shoulders in a deep U to almost the dimples above her ass. As she wound her hair up on her head again, her shoulder blades popped out, little muscles in her creamy back clenching and shimmering under the lights.

  Oh fuck.

  I swiped the cold water bottle against my forehead; the condensation mixed with the sweat that was starting to pop out there. My jeans felt heavy and tighter by the minute. I gulped down about a third of the water before stopping myself and passing the last person between Cassie and myself.

  A couple of sharks were closing in, but it only took a moment to catch their eye and tilt my head towards Cassie with a menacing glare.

  Back. The fuck. Off.

  Message received. Pussies. They scattered like cockroaches in the light, which wasn’t too far from the truth. I hesitated only two feet from her back, since I didn’t want to scare her. Leaning in, I called her name. Her neck stiffened, then she shook her head and melted again into a sinuous rhythm with the DJ.

  So I moved closer. The bottle in my hand hit her bare back before I did, making her flinch and spin around. Her eyes flashed open in surprise, then widened in shock at seeing me.

  “Will?”

  At least, I think she said my name; I could barely hear her over the deepening bass. As the music morphed into something slower, the dance floor emptied out a little and those remaining became more languid in their movements. Despite zero change in volume, it suddenly seemed quieter.

  Cassie had stopped dancing, her chest heaving enough to catch my attention. Okay, it didn’t have to heave a whole fucking lot to catch my attention. It was hard to tell in this light, but I think she was blushing more, and shifting awkwardly like her feet hurt. Her arms crossed over her stomach as she stared at me, her hair falling heavily around her face.

  “I want to talk to you,” I said, like an idiot.

  Her arms tightened around herself. I held the water out to her. She eyed it suspiciously at first, like I’d laced it with GHB or something, then nodded and took it.

  What the fuck was I supposed to say now?

  You’re starring in every fantasy I have and my water bill is going through the roof? Would you go out with me—check yes or no? I have to pay to mutilate another piglet, thanks to the memory of your tits? I miss you?

  I settled for “I’m sorry” and looked her right in the goddamn eye when I said it, hoping she could hear me. And praying that she would listen.

  The redhead came up beside her and leaned in to ask her something. Cassie nodded, and I got the hairy eyeball from the friend as she backed away. What exactly I’d done to deserve that was unknown, unless Cassie had kissed and told.

  I should have been embarrassed, but I was kind of proud for making her practically levitate off my thigh. My jeans were close to cutting off my blood flow at the recollection, for fuck’s sake. But she still hadn’t responded to my apology, so I tried again.

  “Look, I’m fucking sorry. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “Ha! You’re ‘fucking’ sorry?” Okay, she appeared to be listening. And pissed off. “Or your sorry fucking?” She threw up her hands.

  It took me a minute to understand her words. “Wait a second, what did you say?”

  She pushed her hair back over her shoulders, her lips flattening into a tight, shiny line. “Nothing.”

  “My ‘sorry’ fucking?”

  Her glare intensified but her body braced as I stepped closer. The fuck did she say?

  “I’m sorry, did you want me to get you off more in public?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Congratulations, I guess you’re not frigid after all!”

  A few people whipped their heads around as I yelled that last part louder than I needed to. So much for my contrition, I guess. But really, I wasn’t apologizing for coming on to her, or for giving her an orgasm. I was just… shit. It was time we talked about this like grown ups. I wrapped my hand around her wrist and pulled her off the dance floor.

  Will

  “Wait, ow! Will!”

  I steered her over to a brick wall near the fire door, in between two unoccupied high tables with abandoned drinks on them. Remembering her bare back, I turned us so I was leaning against the brick, but I held on tight to her hand.

  “We need to have a fu—“ She raised her eyebrows and I tried to start over without using ‘fuck’ in every fucking sentence. Because god knows she’d take it the wrong fucking way. “We need to have a conversation.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  She tried unsuccessfully to tug her hand free. I grabbed her other wrist as well, and she stared down at our joined hands and barked out a laugh.

  “I guess I owe you a hundred bucks,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I’m not a prude, apparently.”

  “No,” I said slowly, watching her carefully. “I don’t think you are. Is that a bad thing?”

  Her mouth turned down, her gaze still on her wrists manacled by my hands. “Oh yay. I get to be another campus whore. How original.”

  “Is that what you’re doing here? Trying to prove something?”

  Whoa. Was she trying to pick somebody up? What would have happened if I hadn’t come when I did? The thought of her going home with someone made me a little queasy. And frankly, if her only experience was with that dickhead, then she practically was a virgin. Which—I won’t lie—shouldn’t have made me hard, but it did.

  “When in Rome…” Her shrug infuriated me. “The thing is, I was okay with it before. I swear; I didn’t care. I didn’t even think about sex until I mentioned it to you. And then—that happened, and now I feel like a—“

  “Pervert?” I snorted. “Join the club. It’s called The Human Race. We have a secret handshake and everything.”

  A smile flickered at her mouth, but her eyes were sad. “I just want to be normal.”

  “You’re not a fucking mutant.”

  “I don’t even know what normal is anymore,” she said quietly, staring at the floor between us.

  I slid a little further down the wall to try to keep her gaze, with no luck.

  “I’m no expert,” I admitted to her, which was no lie. “But I think normal people have sex and enjoy themselves. Enjoy each other. Maybe even try a…”

  “Threesome? Whipping bench?”

  “Uh, relationship,” I finished, my brain scrambling. “It’s not that black and white, Cassie. There are—“

  “Shades of grey? Yeah, I’ve read about them.”

  I blinked, not sure what she meant. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Now she was definitely blushing, I think. But she was also sobering up fast. My quads straining a little, I pulled her closer until she tripped and our hands were together against my chest.

  “You know...” I paused to think it through. “Not having sex doesn’t make you frigid, and having sex doesn’t make you a slut.”

  “But I’ve had sex and reacted like a dead fish, and you—we—” She shook our joined hands. “—didn’t have sex and I—“

  “You what?”

  Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Humped your leg like a puppy.”

  Oh fuck, I shouldn’t laugh. But she was so fucking adorable about being embarrassed by a perfectly normal physiological reaction, and then being embarrassed by her embarrassment. The poor woman was going to explode someday if she didn’t get over herself.

  “Yes, you did,” I whispered back. “You practically soaked through your jeans and mine, and it was… it was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to do it again.”

  She stared at my chest. I stared at hers. It occurred to me that she wasn’t wearing a bra. How had that taken so long for me to notice?

  “Will, I—“

  “And you want it, too,” I interrupted. “And that’s okay.”

  “You’re pretty full of yourself, you know.”

  “I’d rather—“ I broke off. There was a time t
o make dirty jokes, and a time not to. Something told me this was not the time.

  She deflated with a sigh. “I’m so confused.” She sounded lost, as though she just found out she was adopted or something. It was ridiculous that she would feel this way about her own sexuality.

  Here I was practically drooling over her, and she still didn’t get it. I was confident enough that begging to fuck her wasn’t bruising my ego, but it sure was hurting the friend in my jeans right now.

  “Is this confusing?”

  I pressed her hands into the crotch of my jeans, forcing her to reposition her feet between my spread legs. Her breath caught in her throat. My aching cock rose up to her touch, and my thighs were starting to tremble.

  “I. Want. You. You. I want you in my bed,” I told her clearly and in no uncertain terms. “I want you on this wall. I want you on the fucking lab bench. I want you anywhere and everywhere.”

  “Not in my box, not with a fox,” she joked, pulling her hands away like she was afraid to touch me.

  Shit. “And I’m sorry if it fucks up our friendship—because, damn it, I want that, too.”

  “Would you? Could you?” she said under her breath.

  Now I wasn’t sure if she was quoting Dr. Seuss or actually asking me a question. I scrubbed my hands over my face, and decided to just level with her.

  “I’m a greedy motherfucker.”

  And so there it was. What else could I say? I laid it all out for her. I had no fucking idea what she would do with it, but there it was. I straightened, my hands absently rubbing my shaky legs.

  My head tipped back against the brick wall, a hollow feeling in my chest building. I could feel her step back, cool air swirling around us as someone opened the nearby door to the alley. I closed my eyes, unused to wearing my heart on my sleeve.

  “I just wish you’d fucking try,” I said.

  The music pounded around us, filling the silence between us. Maybe I should never have said anything. She shouldn’t. But she was right before. It was all out in the open now, and—