Hail Mary

by C. C. Galloway

  Michael moved both of his hands up on Mary’s back to stroke her as she kissed him. He angled his head to the left to offer her better access to his throat.

  Her tongue swirled around first his right, then his left nipple, playing with them and teasing them until they both stood up as proud as his dick. “Do you like this?” she whispered, raising her head and searching his dark, quiet eyes out in the silence.

  He coughed and placed his warm, wide hands on her hips. “Yeah, I like it. I like it a lot.”

  “Good because I feel like I’m at a disadvantage here.”

  He cocked his head again and stared at her, waiting and expectant.

  “You know what I like, but I have no idea about pleasing you. What you like,” Mary clarified, continuing to stroke his chest.

  He took her hands in each of his, leaned up and kissed her, deep and long. “You don’t need to know anything. Whatever you do will be perfect.” They both stared into each other’s eyes for awhile, enjoying the beauty of the moment. Then she started stroking his cock, using both of her hands to caress him from base to tip and back and again. The plump head at the end was already wet when she began.

  He was all velvety steel. Large, warm skin over hard muscle. She flicked her fingertips against his twin sacks as well, not wanting to leave any part of his sensitive body untouched. Before he could orgasm, she changed course and replaced her hands with her warm, wet mouth.

  Michael was bigger than any other man she had ever been with, but she’d never been as turned on as she was now. Having him at her mercy was a complete turn on. Two hundred pounds of lean, heavily muscled man splayed out before her? Yeah, that worked for her. Completely.

  Michael moved her hair out of her face as he angled his head to watch her as she worked him with her mouth. But he didn’t want to end like this. Not without her. He pulled her head up and off his cock as she looked at him.

  “Mary?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to finish in you. Is that alright?”

  Even through the darkness, he could see the bright white of her smile. Made him feel about a thousand feet tall. “Perfect,” she answered. “Do you have a condom?”

  “Yeah. Give me a second.” He rolled his long body off the bed and left the bedroom as she settled herself underneath the covers and waited for his return.

  When Michael came back to the bedroom, he was completely sheathed and crawled under the covers to join her.

  “You have a preference for how we do this?” he breathed against her lips, once more settling his wide hips in the vee of hers and laying his arms on the side of her head. He was dying to get inside of her, but he wanted to make this perfect for her. He was determined to do it however she wanted.

  Mary kissed him again before she answered. “This works for me if it works for you.”

  Michael kissed her in response. “Yeah. This works for me.” He gripped his cock and nudged it inside her. Despite how ready and excited she was, he was still a tight fit. Michael pulled back and moved a few more inches inside to her hot, wet warmth that gloved him. “This okay?” he asked, taking both of her hands and linking them with his beside her head.

  “It’s more than okay. It’s terrific,” she replied, loving the feel of his heavy body on hers. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man and she’d forgotten how heavenly the sensations where. And not just any man. This particular man. The soft hair on his chest that teased her breasts and nipples. His wide, heavy thighs split hers and made hers feel positively petite. The flat, muscled stomach completely different from her own rounded one, rubbed her in all the right ways. He was longer, leaner and stronger in comparison to her own rounded form.

  “Good. Now wrap your legs around my waist,” he instructed.

  He flattened their hands beside her head and began moving in and out, pumping away with slow, delicious precision, hitting her deeper than she’d ever felt and she still craved more. Craved everything he was willing to give her. Wanted to give him everything. After what seemed like forever, Michael increased the pace, going deep and fast, and she began to feel the delicious pangs of another orgasm upon her, the rumble beginning to spin out at her core barreling down on her until she couldn’t resist it anymore and came in a great blinding rush. As she came down from her own orgasm, she realized he hadn’t stopped and hadn’t orgasmed.

  Removing her hands from his so she could place them on his back, she whispered, “You almost done there, cowboy?”

  “Why? You complaining?”

  “Of course not. It hardly seems fair I’m on my third orgasm of the night and you haven’t even come once.”

  As Mary ran her hands up and down his back, ridges grazed her fingers, as though the skin was raised in various places on his back. Michael removed her hands from his back and moved her grip to his ass.

  “That’s about to change,” he responded as he gave one final, great thrust and collapsed against her, kissing her brow and folding her into him as he laid back.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Mary awoke to an insistent pressure against her backside and was momentarily disoriented. This didn’t feel like her bed, the mattress softer than the firm one she loved. The sheets and pillowcase didn’t smell like her fabric softener. And she was pretty sure there was a man in bed with her. A big man with a big erection demanding attention. Specifically, her attention. Looking down, she realized one dark hand was holding one of her breasts and the big man with the big hands in bed with her was nuzzling her neck.

  “You awake?” he whispered against her ear, pressing kisses all around, tickling her ear with his tongue.

  “Mmmhmmm.”

  “Good.” Michael rolled over on top of Mary and kissed her some more. For such a hard man, his lips remained surprisingly soft against hers, asking for entrance and nibbling away on her lower lip until it was granted. Her hands stroked up and down his biceps as she soaked up his kisses.

  His cock nudged relentlessly, wanting inside. “Hold on. I’ll be right back,” he murmured, leaving the room for some latex.

  It was as though she was living someone else’s life. This kind of stuff, these kinds of nights, this type of man, didn’t go for Mary Richardson, high school math teacher at Walker, originally from Western Michigan, except in those fluffy romance novels Calleigh always teased her about. But this felt real. As real as anything else in her life. More real, in fact.

  Michael returned and the bed dipped as he sidled up next to her after he dropped something on the nightstand. “I should have brought more with me the first time. I brought plenty this time so I don’t need to leave you again.” Michael grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, so that her body blanketed his, all of her female, lush curves hitting his body in all the right places. The way God had intended.

  “I hate to be a buzz kill here, stud, but I can’t spend the night.” She attempted to cushion the regret in her voice by tracing his eyebrows and his nose with her lips.

  “What?” His distress was evident in his voice. For a man who hadn’t spent a full night with any woman for the last five years and who had no friends to speak of, the idea of Mary leaving tonight was…unthinkable.

  “I’ve got Max at home. I can’t leave him by himself at night. I’m sorry. I can make it up to you before I have to go,” she promised.

  “I’m going to hold you to that, woman.” Then he rolled her over and delivered on his promise.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Mary didn’t think there’d ever been a time in her life where she was more relaxed. Evidently this was what a night full of multiple orgasms did for you. She felt utterly blissed out and mellow, even though the last round had left her a little sore, the results of not having sex for a long, long time. Michael was a big man and while her body had stretched as much as it could to accommodate him, it was going to take a few more times before her body was completely used to him.

  She couldn’t wait.

  He sat up and turned on the light and watched her
movements while she’d dressed herself before leaving. Once she was dressed, Michael levered himself off the bed, threw on some black sweat pants and walked her to the door, as though he was as reluctant for their evening to end as she was.

  As she zipped up her fleece, Michael pulled the ends together under her chin and looked into her eyes. “Promise you’ll call when you get home? I want to make sure you’re home safe.”

  Mary smiled. It was nice to have someone worried about her safety. She wasn’t sure what that said about her independence, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

  “Promise. I’ll call after I’ve let Max out for the night.”

  “Ok.” He kissed her and walked her to the station wagon, opening her door and closing it, standing in the driveway until she pulled out and away. Wasn’t that lovely? She’d never thought she was one of those women who wanted a man to look after her. Worry about her. Make sure she made it home safely. But when the concern emanated from big, bad Michael Santiago? It was flattering.

  Max was waiting for her at the door as soon as he heard the jingle of her car keys through the door. He immediately burrowed his head into her legs to let her know how much he’d missed her while she was gone. She stroked his head and his ears, put her purse up on the counter, grabbed his leash and took him outside before they settled in for the night.

  After she’d locked the doors, turned off the lights, and settled in, she called Michael. It felt…sexy to call him when she was in bed, in her pajamas, still thinking about him, still feeling him.

  “Are you okay?” he barked as soon as the call went through. Her warm fuzzies immediately evaporated at his tone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Where the fuck have you been? You left here twenty minutes ago and you’re only now calling?”

  The feminist in Mary was dying to unload on Michael. Hang up on this macho bullshit he was pulling which was in danger of spoiling what had been one of the greatest nights of her life.

  “I’m only going to stay on this phone long enough to tell you one thing and you better listen well. Otherwise this will be the last conversation we ever have.”

  If Mary could see him, she was certain he was clenching his jaw as tight as possible, a tick off to the side, but he remained quiet.

  “I’m going to assume you were worried about me and your worry was responsible for the way you answered the phone. But make no mistake. You don’t talk to me like that. Ever. I didn’t deserve you attacking for no reason. I deserve more respect.”

  Mary waited while the silence crackled. There should have been crickets chirping in the background for all the response from Michael.

  Was it going to end like this? Over the phone? In spite of everything they had shared? If so, so be it. She had the sense Michael, if he wanted to and it seemed as though he wanted to, could certainly be overbearing. That kind of attitude needed to be nipped in the bud.

  Finally, there was a long sigh from the other end of the line. Okay, he was still on the phone in spite of what she’d said.

  “I’m sorry. I…I expected you to call sooner and when you didn’t, I conjured you up on the side of Twenty-Third, dead. I guess I sort of overreacted.”

  Mary smiled to herself and settled herself even further back against her thick pillows. Okay. Her man could do the whole apology thing when she called him on his bad behavior. Good to know. Was he her man? She sure hoped so. He’d certainly played the part of her man tonight when he’d been moving inside of her, on top of her, kissing her, caressing her, and teasing her.

  “Apology accepted.”

  There was another long exhale on Michael’s end of the phone.

  “Is Max okay?”

  “Sure is. He’s laying on his bed next to the door right now as we speak.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  Mary sensed he wasn’t any more anxious to end this conversation than she was. In spite of what had transpired earlier, this too, was surprisingly intimate. Or maybe this was her projecting since she was lying in her bed, thinking about Michael in his, remembering the two of them in his only an hour ago and wishing he was there with her now. She hadn’t invited him over because she’d been worried about appearing too needy, too clingy…too desirous of his time and attention.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Talking to you.”

  “Smart ass.” Mary’s gentle tone conveyed her amusement.

  “No. I’m lying here waiting to go to sleep after we get off the phone.”

  “What time’s your game again?”

  “One o’clock.”

  “What time do you have to be at the field?”

  “Around eleven.”

  “I need to let you go then since it’s three a.m.”

  “It’s okay. I’m a light sleeper. I don’t need much. You gonna watch me tomorrow? I think Fox is broadcasting the game,” he said.

  “You want me to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes, I absolutely will.”

  Chapter 12

  Mary felt as though she were floating on a cloud. A cloud composed of hormones and happiness. Since Saturday night, few hours had passed without her talking to Michael, texting him, or being with him. When she woke up Sunday morning, her first thoughts had been of him. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. If he’d thought about her when he woke up the way her thoughts had immediately settled on him. It was after ten so she assumed he was either at the field or on his way to prepare for the game.

  She was thinking of him and wanted him to know it. Mary knew many of the traditional man-hunting guides and women’s magazines advised playing it cool early on. But she’d played it cool and sophisticated for years and she was still single. Michael hadn’t seemed to mind it when she was direct with him and called him on his bullshit, so maybe he wouldn’t mind if she told him he was on her mind. Calling him could be too distracting and too time consuming depending on what he was doing. He took his games seriously and she didn’t want him to think she disregarded his career. Therefore, she decided a text was the perfect way to communicate.

  Good morning. I’m thinking of you and hoping you have a great game. Good luck!!!

  Ten minutes later, her phone chimed, letting her know he’d responded.

  Thanks. Me too.

  Me too, what? Me, too, he was thinking about her? She hoped that’s what it was.

  A couple of minutes later, he clarified his prior text. I’m thinking of you too. Sorry. Bad w/texting.

  She’d sent him a smiley face back and didn’t hear from him until after the game when he’d called.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey.”

  Hearing his voice made Mary smile, inside and out.

  “Nice game.” The Tide had easily handled their opponents. Michael alone had two sacks and two hurries.

  “You watched it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Nice.”

  “It looked like your hellacious practices all week long paid off. I don’t think there was one single play anyone missed.”

  “Yeah, we played solidly today.”

  “What are you doing right now?” she asked.

  “I’m about to jump in the Jeep and head home. You?”

  Mary wanted to see him. He’d never been more than a second away from her thoughts all day, even when the Tide wasn’t broadcasting on the television. Would he think she was too needy? Too desperate if she asked him over?

  Even though she’d texted him earlier, he was the one who was calling her tonight.

  Deciding to trust her instincts which had led her this far, she gave in.

  “I was thinking about taking Max out for our evening walk. You want to join us?”

  On his end, Michael transferred his cell to his other ear, cranked the Jeep’s engine and pulled out of the Tide’s parking lot. He felt like pumping his fists in victory since Mary was as anxious to see him as he was to see her. He’d seriously thought he’d fucked things up with her at
the end of last night, coming on too strong and being too demanding. But then her text this morning made him feel as though he’d won the lottery. She’d been thinking of him. He’d been thinking of her too, all night in fact, after she’d left.

  “Sounds good.”

  “Great. See you soon.”

  Twenty minutes later, he arrived at her place and after they walked Max, she’d gone one step further and asked him to stay for dinner.

  “If you don’t mind chick food,” she’d stated on their way back to her apartment.

  “Depends. What do you classify as chick food?”

  “Chicken Caesar salad.”

  “Caesar was a man. Shouldn’t that count for something?” he quipped, loving this easy banter that had never been a part of his life, and surely never a part of his romantic life, but now seemed completely natural with Mary.

  She laughed. “He was a man, but usually most men think of salads as women food.”

  “I’m not most men,” he responded.

  “No, Michael, you’re certainly not. So, is that a yes?” she’d asked as they entered her apartment.

  “Yes. A definite yes.”

  He and Mary had watched television on the couch before their bodies took over. Mary had sidled up next to him and he’d wrapped his long arms around her, cuddling her in as close as can be. The contact lead to caressing, which led to kissing, which then led to more kissing in lots of other places. They had a repeat on the couch, only this time, he was inside of her.

  Afterwards, they’d showered in Mary’s bathroom, soaping each other up, lathering the other one with suds and strategically placing the sole wash cloth they were both sharing for lots and lots of fun. Mary looked at him oddly as he intentionally backed up and out of the bathtub, but thankfully she didn’t ask as he held her hands, pulling her along with him. After toweling each other off, they’d settled into Mary’s queen-sized bed where Michael breathed a big, deep sigh of contentment and dragged her into his arms.

  “Nice bed you got here,” he murmured, kissing her ear as she draped herself across his chest and placed her hands up his pecs.