by Danica Avet
“Come with me,” he growls, chest rising and falling as though he’s been running a marathon. “I want to watch you come again when I spill all over your hand.”
My eyes roll back because it feels so good. My fingers tighten around his dick, as the pleasure of him rubbing my clit starts to make everything tense, and he hisses out a curse. I force myself to watch him, our gazes locked as we masturbate each other, our hands moving in unison, building to a crescendo I can almost feel.
“Fuck. Katie,” he grits out, fingers pressing against my entrance as his palm continues to rub. “Gonna come.”
But I was already there. Just the hint of penetration is all it takes to set me off, yet even as I gasp and cry out his name like a prayer, I never break eye contact. Which means I get to watch as his face tightens, his teeth gritting as warm cum spurts over my stroking hand. He groans, low and deep, forehead wrinkling as he comes and comes, his cock jerking in my palm, but his hand never stops moving either, helping me ride out my orgasm.
He reaches up with his free hand, cradling the back of my skull and bringing my mouth to his. His kiss is gentle, sweet. It’s everything. He’s everything.
Kate
My phone is ringing off the hook. I heard it go off five minutes ago but didn’t bother answering because it was too damn early for phone calls. Yet the second time it goes off I know it has to be some kind of emergency.
Reaching out blindly, I finally pick it up and mumble a hello.
“Oh my fucking god, Kate! Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?”
The squealed question has me pulling the phone away from my ear with a wince. I blink open my eyes, which doesn’t do any good since I haven’t put my glasses on yet. Still, I know that voice.
“Helen?” I croak as I struggle to wake up. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you dating Shaun ‘Steady’ Decker!” she screeches. “It’s all over Facebook and Twitter! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. How long have you been seeing him?” Each word comes out quick, like shots from a machine gun. Then she pauses to suck in a deep breath. “Wait, are you the mystery woman he was seen with in New Orleans? Oh my god!”
My skin is cold as I sit up in bed. A glance at the clock shows it’s five-thirty in the morning. Shaun hadn’t left until after midnight, and after giving me another orgasm, which means I haven’t slept as long as I usually do. But this is not the kind of wake up I was expecting.
“Kate? Kate! Don’t you dare go back to sleep on me,” Helen threatens, because I’ve done it before. “I’m your best friend and you didn’t even bother telling me you were seeing someone? Not to mention seeing a former professional football player? A hot football player?” The last question ends on a squeak.
“Um.” I reach out to put my glasses on. “I’m not following. How do you even know about that?”
Helen went quiet, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “You weren’t going to tell me,” my friend says in a shocked tone.
I run my hand through my hair, pulling on it in frustration. It isn’t that I hadn’t wanted to tell Helen about my budding relationship with Shaun. I just… Didn’t want to count my chickens before they hatched. I’d done that with Adam, crowing about how wonderful he was, how much I loved him and look what happened. I don’t want to jinx this with Shaun.
“I just,” I pause and struggle to put my thoughts into words. “I like him, Helen. A lot, but there are some things…”
“Yeah, like the fact that he’s currently separated,” Helen interrupts.
“How do you…? Never mind,” I mutter because I know. “Google.”
“Hell yes, I Googled him once I saw that picture,” she says proudly. “You’ve been hurt enough by cheating men, I won’t let it happen again. And babe, he’s been linked with a lot of women. Not lately, but you know, in his career.”
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed, I pluck at my quilt. “I know. I looked him up when I found out who he was,” I mumble and my mind suddenly seizes on something else she said. “What picture did you see?”
“It’s all over Facebook and Twitter, I told you,” Helen says impatiently. “Get your cell phone and pull up your account.”
I have both platforms, mostly for work-related stuff. The students like to tag me and Mark in pictures taken at games and during practices. There’s a Marching 300 fan page, Twitter account and website, but I rarely actually participate on any of them.
Still, I do as Helen tells me to and open my Twitter account. I blink. I have what looks like twenty-two thousand notifications. The majority look like retweets and I scroll through them, barely reading them although a few caught my eye.
Angiepink: So cute 2gether! @shaun_decker & @kbfrost #aww #ssu.
Crash_69: Drummers do it with rhythm. Go @kbfrost and
@shaun_decker #spartan300
Artsus: Putting the “aww” in awesome! @shaun_decker @kbfrost
There are thousands upon thousands more and I feel my heart attempting to pound through my chest as I open one with an attachment. My breath freezes in my throat as it loads because I recognize it. It’s the band hall. More specifically, it’s a shot of me and Shaun hugging. That moment when I thought I felt Shaun kiss the top of my head. He had because that’s what the picture shows. But it’s the expression on our faces that makes my eyes tear up.
We look like we’re just happy to be together. I’m nestled up against his chest, his head is bowed over me, his shoulders hunched slightly, and we’re both wearing satisfied smiles, as though we’re right where we want to be. It’s the sweetest, most poignant picture I’ve ever taken. Shaun looks as though he’s surrounding me with the bulk of his body, not in a menacing way, but protectively, as though he’d fight my every demon.
“You see?” Helen asks softly. “See why I called? Look at you two. You look so in love, it hurts my heart.”
Yeah, it hurts mine too because now there’s no hiding how I’m beginning to feel about him.
An hour later I pace my living room, trying to figure out how I plan to handle this fiasco. My phone hasn’t stopped ringing as people I haven’t talked to in months, years in some cases, call to ask me how I’m doing and not-so subtly question me about Shaun. Most of the time, I don’t even pick up. I’ve only made two exceptions. Mom and Mark.
Mom is thrilled, slash scared, slash worried for me, just like Helen. She warned me to watch my heart, said she’d see me at Thanksgiving—and she expects to meet Shaun as well—and told me to hold my head up high.
Mark called to apologize about the picture.
“I simply don’t know who would’ve taken that picture, Katherine,” he said, stress evident in his voice. “I feel like this is my fault. I should’ve paid more attention to who was still in the band hall.”
My only question for him had been, “Is this going to be a problem with the university?”
He assured me it wouldn’t. There was no policy against fraternization among the faculty and staff, as long as it didn’t become a distraction to the academic well-being of the university. Whatever that means.
I opened my phone to look at the Twitter notifications again. Most of the commenters and people talking about it are students, the rest are die-hard Shaun Decker fans. And while there are some very rude tweets, the majority are positive. I close my eyes and lower my hand.
I haven’t heard from Shaun either. He’s supposed to pick me up this morning, but it’s already a quarter to seven and—
Just then I heard the roar of an engine and squealing tires. Running to the front door, I fling it open to see Shaun launch himself out of his truck. I gape as he crosses my small lawn in only a few steps, his expression thunderous and worried. His hair is still dripping, leaving water stains on his polo, his shirt is un-tucked and he isn’t wearing shoes.
I stare at his bare feet as he rushes my door and stops in front of me. “I’m so sorry,” he says with a rasp. He cups my chin, lifting my gaze from
his feet to his face. The concern in his brown eyes helps to make some of my panic recede. “Babe, I’m so sorry. I just found out about the picture and everything else. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, although my voice wobbles.
“Let’s go inside,” he suggests with a scowl over his shoulder, as though he expects to see the media hiding in the bushes.
I allow him to guide me inside and the minute the door closes, he pulls me into his arms. I didn’t even realize I was so shaky until I was in the safety of Shaun’s embrace. My eyes water and tears trickle down my cheeks. I don’t even know why I’m crying. Is it fear? Embarrassment? Or is it because I see that picture, and the tenderness he feels toward me, in the back of my mind?
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he says into my hair, his lips brushing my scalp. “I didn’t think.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “That seems to be a running theme when it comes to you, not thinking.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” I mumble. “I shouldn’t have hugged you.”
His arms tighten around me. “Never apologize for hugging me, Katie. I’m not sorry that happened. I’m sorry that you’ve been dragged into the spotlight like this. But you know what?” he asks as he pulls away slightly so he can look at me. His faces twists in a frown as he wipes away my tears. “I don’t care if the whole world knows that we’re building a relationship. Hell, I want them to know because then I don’t have to worry about some motherfucker coming around and trying to take you away from me.”
I stare at him, my brain sort of numb. “What?”
His kiss is soft. Sweet. “Babe, you’re hot, you got this cute band nerd thing going on and you’re probably starring in the dreams of every guy in your drumline. If they all know you’re with me, I don’t have to go to jail for beating up kids.”
I laugh. The noise just bursts out of me and ends in a snort. “Shaun, be serious!”
He kisses me again, this time lingering over it until I’m sighing, all traces of amusement gone. “I’m dead serious, Katie,” he murmurs against my lips. “Don’t you know I’m crazy about you?”
That forces my eyes open. “You are?”
“Fuck yeah,” he says. “Have been from the first minute you fell in my lap. Like a present.”
My face heats up and I try to stay on the subject of us being outed. “You don’t… You don’t care that everyone’s saying we’re together?” I ask slowly because I think that’s what I’m most concerned about. Adam…
Shaun’s expression tightens and his eyes flash with something fierce. “You’re not my dirty little secret, Katie babe. You’re the woman I hope to make mine one day. As soon as my divorce is final, there’ll be no holding me back from making that a reality.”
Just like that, some of the old fears finally let go of me. Because he isn’t ashamed or worried about being seen with me. And that earns Shaun a twenty-minute, heavy make-out session before we rush to campus.
Shaun
I wish I could find the fucker who took that picture, for two reasons. A, I want to beat their ass for taking it and posting it all over the fucking internet. And B, I want a copy of that picture. Of course, I don’t tell Katie this as I walk her to Tauzin Hall. Mostly because everyone seems to be watching us, from students to other faculty members.
My panicked drive to her house after Corey called to let me know about the buzz led me to think it was negative attention we were receiving from people who knew fuck all about anything. Luckily, there are smiles and thumbs-up aimed at us and nothing that’ll bring out the protective monster I feel prowling around inside me. Protective because, while Katie just about blew my mind with her kisses before we left her house, now her hand’s clutching mine like a lifeline, like I’m the only thing keeping her from falling to pieces. I hate that she’s so worried about me being ashamed to be seen with her, or that she even came under the scrutiny of the circus that’s social media in the first place.
But I don’t regret everyone knowing I’ve claimed her. Primitive of me, I know, but I don’t care. Of course I’m well aware that this might not bode well for me with Denise. With her claiming mental trauma or some shit over the first picture of me and Katie, I have no doubt she’ll try to bilk me out of more money, or stretch things out longer, when she sees the most recent one.
We reach Katie’s office, the administrative assistant’s eyes wide as she watches us go down the hall, when my phone rings. I’ve been waiting for it. Knowing it’s either Madison or Denise, I step into Katie’s office and close the door behind me. Normally I’d take a call like this in private, but she’s well aware of what’s going on in my separation, and if we’re going to be together she needs to know everything.
I unclip my phone and grimace, not wanting to answer.
“Who is it?” she asks, a frown furrowing her brow.
“My mom,” I mutter as I accept the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“Shaun! I just saw that picture on Facebook and I can’t be happier. She’s so cute! Are you bringing her home for Thanksgiving? Your dad and I can’t wait to meet her. Did she get that show thingy she was so worried about? Oh this is so exciting,” she says, pausing to take a breath. “I want you to give her my number because I want to get to know her before you bring her over. She seems like a nice girl. Does she want children? I hope she isn’t like Denise, worried about her figure. She has childbearing hips, you know. You need at least one boy and one girl.”
I tune her out, partly because this is more of the same I’ve been getting when I talk to Mom and Katie comes up and the other part because my woman chuckles quietly.
“Why don’t you talk to her now?” I cut in before Mom can go into details about what I should name children I don’t have.
“I can’t,” Katie says quietly, backing away. “I have class in—” But I thrust the phone in her face, Mom still chattering like a magpie. She glares and takes it from me. “Hi, Mrs. Decker, it’s Katherine Frost. Again.”
I snort and pull her into my arms, nuzzling her neck as she talks to Mom. I’m not really listening, but by the time the call finally ends with Katie saying she needs to get to class, I know Mom is calling her Katie, she’s calling Mom Deborah, her mother’s coming to town for Thanksgiving so she can’t go to California and she gives mom her number. Oh and Katie has the most sensitive neck, because by the time she actually hangs up she’s practically putty in my hands.
I put the phone away and kiss her. “Does this mean we’re going steady, now that you and Mom are BFFs?”
Her laugh is all the acceptance I need and we spend the next five minutes making out like a couple of teenagers before I’m able to drag myself away.
Kate
After the Picture Fiasco, life with Shaun settles into a pattern of us-ness over the next three weeks. Yes, I’ve created a word to describe this new closeness we share. Oh, life has become busy as all hell, with extended practices with the drumline and midterms kicking off, but Shaun and I always find time to be together. We spend nearly every night together, the only exceptions when he has to travel with the team for back-to-back away games. Yet texts and late night phone calls—that sometimes turned into phone sex—help us fill in the time spent apart.
When we are together though, it’s as though we’ve always been a couple. Most nights he either cooks at his place, or mine, or I order pizza—which he thinks is hilariously cute. We talk about everything, nothing off-limits, including our past relationships. It’s the most open communication I’ve ever had and I love it. He doesn’t talk about his feelings a lot, he is a man after all, but he doesn’t need to. I read his growing affection for me in the little things he does.
Like going places as a couple. We have a triple date with Mark and Hannah and Buddy and Cathy, the six of us going to The Glasshouse together, and we have so much fun I have a feeling we’ll be spending more time with them. Sometimes Shaun will pop into my office during my free periods just to say hi, or to bring me flowers. I’m the envy of every woman in the Music D
epartment, heck in the university, because he isn’t afraid to show how much he likes being with me, or how much he cares.
And we make out. A lot. My face heats as I adjust the collar of my Sauvage polo. I keep expecting him to push for more, but he doesn’t. He just comes up with more inventive ways for us to get off without taking the final step. The man has talent. Lots of it. And his unabashed fascination with my body, and making me come so hard I see stars, has unleashed my inner vixen.
My lips curl into a catlike smile. Last night I had him speaking in tongues, or so it sounded. Having such a strong man shaking, out of his head with arousal, and at my mercy has been liberating. But even if it wasn’t for all the orgasms we give each other, I’d still want to spend every day with him.
Of course it hasn’t been completely perfect. There’s the social media bullshit that freaked me out at first. I still don’t like it, but it isn’t as though the media is following us around or anything. Shaun had a few phone calls from some reporters asking if the rumors and pictures were true, but that was about it. It’s the student body that seems to get the biggest kick out of our relationship. Since that night, there’ve been dozens of pictures taken of us at restaurants, on campus, and anywhere else we happen to be. They’ve sort of claimed us; like fourteen thousand Cupids, they take credit for us being together.
The other fly in the ointment is Denise. My reflection shows my lips are nothing more than a thin line. To say she hasn’t taken our relationship well is an understatement, and I can’t help but think about the call Shaun had from her three nights ago.
Shaun and I were cuddled on his sectional watching Face-Off, both of us cheering for our favorite makeup artists. I love moments like that with him almost as much as I do the non-penetrating sex we have. My face heats up and since it was pressed to Shaun’s naked chest he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow.