Full Court Press

by Rose, Ashley

  She nodded and the seconds dragged by. Her legs were shaking in the effort to stay open like he wanted. She could barely wait for his command when she could relieve herself of this feeling. She started to pant louder, accompanied by quiet whimpering noises in rhythm with his fingers.

  At the same moment she just couldn’t take it any longer, he bit her ear lightly. “Go ahead, baby, let go. Do your best.”

  She cried out and tried to twist out of his hold, her knees snapping together, but not before he pressed the rounded head of the sprayer directly against her.

  “Oh my god, please.” She begged him to let up, but it didn’t work of course.

  He removed his other hand and tangled it in her hair, using it to tug her head back, forcing her to look up at the ceiling while he pushed the showerhead against her rhythmically in sync with the water.

  “Please! I can’t—” She struggled against his hold in earnest, clamping her thighs together tightly but to no avail. She only succeeded in holding the rounded tip even tighter against her most sensitive flesh. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to beg him to stop or to continue. It felt so amazing and overwhelming at the same time. Within seconds, she was crying out over and over again, pulling against the handcuffs and fighting his hold on her hair.

  Her efforts were futile and she knew it, but he was right. It felt amazing. She cried out one last time, so loudly that the sound reverberated off the tile walls. Her back arched tightly. With her neck bent, she cried out to the ceiling and felt herself convulsing against the warm plastic between her thighs. It seemed like an eternity until her body finally let go and she slumped in his hold.

  Beck kissed her neck. “There you go, babe. That was perfect.”

  She managed to gather enough energy to speak. “Please.” The showerhead was still between her legs, making her tremble.

  “Just relax. You’re done when I say you’re done.” He released her hair so that she could lower her head.

  She waited, leaning against him for support, looking down at the spot where he held the warm plastic against her, using it to massage her gently. Once she relaxed, she found it soothing, taking the time to rest instead of fight him.

  Finally, she felt his lips on her neck, followed by a soft bite. He removed the handset from between her legs, putting it back to a normal setting. He stood and tilted her head back to get her hair thoroughly wet before massaging shampoo in her scalp. She let her eyes drift closed and was grateful that he was giving her time to recover before trying to get her to move. She rolled her now stiff shoulders and Beck crouched down right away to cuff her hands in front of her instead of behind.

  She was grateful that he didn’t make her ask, and she was glad he hadn’t left her unrestrained. She wasn’t ready to be free just yet. Being free meant she had to go back to being herself, and Beck had to step out of the role that allowed him to be intimate with her.

  He finished washing her hair and turned off the water before stepping over her, out of the shower. She didn’t know if he wanted her to follow but it didn’t really matter. Her legs weren’t taking her anywhere.

  Beck came back a couple minutes later with his jeans back on. His chest was still a bit damp, along with his hair. He used a white, fluffy towel to dry her torso before urging her up onto her knees so that he could dry her legs. He didn’t waste time trying to get her completely dry, just got most of the water off before wrapping the towel around her and picking her up in his arms.

  He reached his bed, took the towel off her and spread it on the bed since she was still wet. She automatically curled up on the towel once he had set her down.

  In a surprisingly soothing gesture, Beck pushed Carmondy’s hair back from her face. “You seem pretty worn out. You should rest. I left the keys on the bedside table. I’ll be out in the living room.”

  Removing the cuffs would end the session, throwing them back into reality. She nodded and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. “Okay.”

  He nodded once before turning and leaving her alone in the bedroom.

  Chapter Ten

  Carmondy had only meant to rest for a moment but when she opened her eyes, over an hour had passed. She was mostly dry now but her hair was still damp and cold, along with the towel she was laying on. When she made to move, she remembered her wrists were locked together, and she was totally naked.

  She reached up to grab the key off the table and removed the cuffs, then stood and pulled on her underwear, bra, shorts and tank top.

  She took a couple deep, calming breaths before she stepped back out into the living room. Beck was relaxing on the couch in only his jeans, the picture of sex.

  He looked over his shoulder. “The Suns are playing. Steve Nash is kicking ass. Come watch with me.”

  She was amazed. This was a big step for him. He was purposefully being nice when he was usually purposefully cold. He was opening up. These unconventional sexcapades were making him feel like he could trust her, like he could open up and be himself around her.

  She smiled and slid onto the couch beside him, under his outstretched arm. She hugged her knees to her chest and glanced up at him. “Beck?”

  His eyes lingered on the game for a couple seconds before falling to her face. “Yeah?”

  “I just wanted to say that...that was amazing, and thank you.”

  He smiled and dropped his arm so it rested around her shoulders. “Don’t thank me. I think it’s a fair bet to say that I had a better time than you.”

  “Not possible,” she stated.

  “Oh, I think so,” he said playfully.

  She wanted to squeal and wrap her arms around him. She was so glad they were actually getting along. Instead, she felt an all-too-familiar pang of guilt. This didn’t change the fact that she had spied on him and unethically discovered something he had kept secret.

  She couldn’t be around him right now. She didn’t want to ruin the moment but she knew that if she stayed, she’d have to tell him. She had to tell him eventually, either way, but not right now, not when he was finally starting to treat her like they were in a relationship.

  She stood up abruptly. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  His expression fell and he slammed up his emotional walls again, removing his arm from her shoulder.

  “What?” he asked carefully.

  “I can’t...do this. I have to go.”

  He took a couple calming breaths before he spoke. “Why?”

  “I can’t explain it to you...I can’t stay.”

  His jaw clenched tightly. He was silent for several moments but he finally spoke in a low, cold tone. “Fuck. You.”

  Oh god, she’d totally blown it. “I’m so sorry, Beck, I just—”

  “I don’t give a shit,” he snapped.

  She nodded. “Okay... I’m going to leave then.”

  “I drove you here.”

  “I know, I’m going to walk to Anderson’s. Maybe he’ll give me a ride.”

  Beck muttered something before standing up and snatching his cell phone off the table. He glared at her as he punched in a speed-dial number and put the phone to his ear. “Come pick up Carmondy...my place.” He hung up the phone to glare at her some more.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, the guilt riding over her in waves.

  “Why?”

  “No, Beck, please, don’t make me—”

  “What is it?” he demanded, grabbing her upper arms in both hands.

  “I...I spied on you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Carmondy took a deep breath and said it all at once. “When you were with your sister at that hospital, I followed you upstairs and watched the whole thing through the two-way mirror and I am so sorry.”

  It took Beck a moment to process the information but when he did, he released her like she was on fire.

  He was too upset to bother hiding his emotions so she saw each one clearly: hurt, betrayal, mistrust and most of all, anger. While she was confident he would
never hit her...if there was ever a time that she doubted herself, it was now.

  “Please, Beck—”

  “No. You shut the fuck up.”

  She snapped her mouth shut and felt tears of shame welling in her eyes.

  Beck suddenly turned so that his back was to her, his fingers curling into tight fists.

  She touched his shoulder. “Don’t, Beck, please.”

  He flung her hands off. “Don’t fucking touch me.” He stalked toward the door and she followed. He grabbed his keys then turned to jab a finger at her. “You stay right fucking there. You don’t move from that spot until Anderson gets here or so help me, I will...just don’t move.”

  She didn’t move. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted to help you. I wanted to know why you were so upset.”

  Beck ignored her and yanked the front door open before slamming it shut behind him, rattling the whole house. She could see him through the window as he got into his BMW and left the driveway so fast that the gravel shot from under his tires and cracked against the glass.

  She dropped her face to her hands and tried to hold back the tears. She had messed up, big time, and it was all her fault. She had known it was wrong when she had been doing it but it hadn’t stopped her.

  Less than a minute later, Anderson’s Charger pulled up to the house and she wiped at her tears viciously, knowing it wouldn’t do any good.

  She hurried out of the house and slid into the Charger before Andy could get out, trying to hide the tears on her face.

  Anderson knew right away that she was upset. “What’s going on? Beck looked pissed.”

  She rubbed her palms into her eyes in attempt to stop the tears. She hated crying in front of people. “Can you just take me to my apartment, please?” she asked quietly, afraid that if she spoke any louder her voice would crack.

  “Okay.” He pulled out of the driveway, then suddenly slammed on the brakes. “What the fuck is that?”

  She looked up and saw that he was pointing to the inside of her lower thigh, where a bruise that looked suspiciously like a handprint had started to form.

  Carmondy tugged her shorts down to cover it. “Nothing.”

  “That is not nothing, Carmondy. Did Beck do that to you?”

  “No.” Of course it was from Beck, but only because she had been fighting him in the throes of passion. It didn’t actually hurt.

  “Carmondy...that is not cool...just tell me if it was him and I can—”

  “I said no!” she burst out, louder than she had intended.

  “I can’t just let this go, it’s not—”

  “Anderson, please...can you just drop it? I really don’t feel like talking. I just want to get to my apartment, okay?”

  “Would you tell me if he hurt you?”

  “Do you really think that Beck would hurt a girl?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Well, there you go, end of story.”

  “Carmondy...”

  They had reached her apartment and Carmondy opened the car door to escape.

  “Hey.” Anderson grabbed her wrist before she could get out.

  She winced slightly as her wrist gave her a light twinge of pain.

  Anderson yanked her wrist over to look at it more closely, and his face turned from annoyed to appalled. A bruise was also forming on her wrist, both of them, actually.

  Carmondy bit her lip. She hadn’t even realized.

  Anderson let her go slowly. “Carmondy, I am being dead serious here. Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she said firmly, without hesitation.

  “You’re lying to me.”

  “No, I’m not, he didn’t—”

  “I’m your goddamn friend, Carmondy! Stop lying to me!”

  She recoiled. That was the second time today she’d been yelled at. “Please, don’t yell at me, Anderson.” She tried to sound strong but it didn’t work.

  He took a deep breath but it was clear that he was far from calm. “You shouldn’t lie to your friends, Carmondy. Now, I would stay, but I have to go do something for my mom. I’ll call you, okay? We’re not finished here.”

  She nodded and slid out of the car. When she entered her apartment, the tears started flowing again, not because Beck hated her, but because of what she had done to make him hate her.

  She took another shower. She could smell him all over her. She felt incredibly dirty but when she stepped in the shower, she realized that it wasn’t the kind of dirt that you could wash off your body.

  Nevertheless, she stayed under the hot spray for a good 45 minutes, until her tears stopped. When she stepped out of the shower, she saw the redness of bruises starting to form. Of course, being an athlete, she always had bruises. Basketball was a physical sport after all, but she could distinguish the ones caused from Beck’s hands or her own struggles from the ones caused by bouncing around a basketball court.

  The largest bruises were the ones on her hip and the back of her upper thigh, which was where Beck had held her when they’d had sex for the second time. She also had bruises forming on her legs and around her wrists from struggling against the handcuffs, along with other small areas on her hips and waist. Some were very obviously handprints. She prodded at them but they didn’t hurt. She hadn’t noticed that she was bruising but now that she looked in the mirror, she looked like a rape victim or something.

  Carmondy was exhausted, almost lethargic. All she wanted to do was curl up on her bed and fall asleep for hours. That’s the kind of rest a normal girl would deserve, but Carmondy knew that the reason she was so tired was because she knew how wrong what she’d done was. She didn’t deserve rest right now.

  She dressed in running shorts and a tank top and jogged out into the chilly afternoon. She left behind her iPod and water. Music would take her mind off what she should be thinking about and she could survive without water. If she got thirsty, she would just have to run all the way back for it.

  She didn’t bother to try to keep track of distance or time, just ran until her body decided it was going to stop fighting and do everything it could to provide her muscles with the energy they needed. Once this kicked in, she ran harder. On the edge of town, she circled around and headed into an unknown district. There was no snow on the ground but the biting winter wind made it cold out, leaving her body confused as to whether it was overheated or freezing cold.

  She ignored her body’s signs of protest. Her legs felt numb for a while, then they ached for an even longer period of time. Then her calf, shin, and quad muscles started sending shooting pain up toward her torso.

  Still, she ignored that her feet felt like they were ripping in half each time she pushed off. She ignored the fact that her hips felt like they were lubricated with sandpaper and that her shoulders and neck could barely move from stiffness. Her muscles started to quiver with each stride and she recognized it as muscle fatigue. She hadn’t eaten anything since that morning and the gnawing stomach pain told her that she was starving.

  Though it felt like she had been running for at least five hours, the sun told her it couldn’t have been more than two. She passed the downtown area with the fast food places, knowing that she should stop and get water, but didn’t.

  Finally, her body started to quit. She held it off for a while but as she was jogging by the parking lot of a grocery store, she started to feel lightheaded. When the sidewalk started to swim in front of her, she had no choice but to drop down onto a bus stop bench.

  It wasn’t until she stopped that she realized her asthma had kicked in. Automatically, panic set in as well, which only made it worse. She leaned on her knees and took in shallow breaths, waiting for it to pass.

  It didn’t pass. She needed her inhaler, which she didn’t have. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes, not just because she couldn’t breathe, but because of everything that had being going on. She didn’t know how long she sat there but a good time later she heard the sound of a vehicle pull up to the curb. She looked u
p and recognized Anderson’s Charger.

  With shaking hands, she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. Why did Anderson have to be the one to find her? She would rather suffocate.

  Anderson rounded his car. “Carmondy? Hey, are you okay?”

  She put her face in her hands and tried not to sound like a gasping fish.

  He touched her shoulder. “What’s going on? Can you breathe?”

  She pushed his hand away. “Just...” The effort to speak only closed her airway more and she pressed a hand to her sternum, trying to breathe.

  “Jesus Christ, are you all right?”

  She nodded jerkily and suddenly he was gone, opening the door to his car and pulling something out of his glove box. He jogged back and held an inhaler out to her. She didn’t want to take it but her hands betrayed her. She watched her fingers grab the thing and bring it to her lips, letting the bitter spray flood her airway.

  A couple of big breaths entered her lungs and she took another puff, a bigger one this time.

  Once oxygen returned to her system, she became acutely aware of just how much pain she was in.

  “Are you okay now?” Anderson stared at her with concern. “I’m glad Beck gave me an extra inhaler for you. He said he wanted a bunch of them around since you keep forgetting to take one with you.”

  The mention of Beck made her feel worse. She buried her face in her hands.

  “Come on,” Anderson said gently. “I’ll take you home.”

  They made the short drive back to her apartment in silence and he followed her inside. Before she could stop herself, she walked to the couch and sank down on it. He sat down beside her, still looking concerned. She rested her face against his neck and curled her body up tightly. His arms came around her, one around her waist while the other hand rested on her hair.

  He dropped his head to press his lips to her forehead. “Comfortable?”

  She nodded and pulled her arms close to her chest, making her body as small as possible.

  “Good.” His hands started to stroke her hair. “Now, did you want to talk about something? What the hell is going on with you?”