A super-zombie, one of those types that are put in these games expressly to make you eat up your tokens, pops out of nowhere and hits us both, ending the game. I'm tempted to drop another token in to continue, but Duncan holsters his pistol and takes my hand. “I learned to shoot when I was a kid. My Dad felt that it was important I learn supposedly 'manly' habits like that, and not end up, and I quote, one of these Silicon Valley, pansy ass, sissy boys."
"Yeesh, what a moron," I exclaim before blushing. "Sorry. Guess that's not something you say about your date's parents."
"Except that it's totally true. Come on. I may have only played half a game, but I'm starving. Let's eat."
We get an extra large pizza with sausage, bacon, and bell peppers, along with Cokes, and find a seat. Just as we do, I hear someone call out Duncan's name again. "What is it with us and food and getting interrupted?"
"I don't know," Duncan says with a laugh. We look over, and I see a guy wearing a frat shirt, Alpha Tau Epsilon, along with what you'd expect a frat guy's girlfriend to be on his arm. "Hello, Joe."
“Good to see you," Joe says, pulling his Barbie-doll date along with him. "Man, after that game . . . you’re the last person I expected to see. What happened?"
"Just had a bad day," Duncan says, and I can tell he's not wanting to talk about it. Joe, however, doesn't catch his tone of voice and plows ahead. I've known it for years, but intelligence and the Greek system do not always go hand in hand.
"Seriously, like, you were going Captain Caveman out there. Missy and I were fuckin' stoked to see you here though. Hope, you know . . ."
"No worries," Duncan says. "By the way, this is my date, Carrie Mittel. Carrie, this is Joe and Missy."
"Uh . . . hi," Missy says, surprised as I offer my hand. She shakes before pulling back with an over-the-top shake of her wrist. “Geez, that’s a strong grip.”
"Carrie's strong," Duncan says, giving Missy a measured look. "She's a great trainer, and one hell of a girlfriend."
I'm too stunned to catch her reply as my mind whirls around Duncan's words. Girlfriend? Did he just really call me his girlfriend? Somebody pinch me, please.
Joe and Missy soon leave, and Duncan turns back, shaking his head. He sees that I'm still staring at him, open-mouthed, and blushes. "Sorry. I swear, that shit doesn’t happen everywhere I go.”
“It’s not that,” I say. "Just . . . you just called me your girlfriend."
"I know," Duncan says, smiling, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. He chews slowly, considering his next words as if he’s wondering if he should keep up the cockiness. “For four months now, since the day we met, I haven't been the same. I spend my days hoping to get down to the training room faster and to the library after practice in order to spend time with you. I may have jumped the gun to put that prissy princess in her place, but I still meant what I said.”
I nod, a silly grin breaking out on my face, and I take my own slice of pizza. “I think I could get used to being Duncan Hart’s girlfriend.”
A smile breaks out on his face, and we finish our pizza in a warm haze of dreamy happiness. When we're finished, I'm already ready to ask Duncan to take me back to his place, but instead, he clears away our plates and holds out his hand. "Have a round with me?"
"Careful," I tease, getting up. "Remember, I'm a former softball player. I tend to do well with sports with sticks and balls."
"Then maybe I'll get put in my place," Duncan chuckles, the two of us going out to the course.
I've never seen miniature golf as an exercise in seduction, but then again, I've never played a round with Duncan Hart before. We don't even keep score, just having fun with each other and playing the holes. With each stroke, I'm finding myself laughing and exchanging looks with him, the rest of the patrons or people forgotten as it seems the two of us are sharing our own little private space. When we come to the eighteenth hole, I move in to the ball, and I feel Duncan behind me. "Looks like a difficult shot."
“It is," I agree, looking down the green fake grass, which is lumpy and rising with fake hills. "Think you can lend me a hand?"
Duncan comes closer, his hands coming around to cover mine, and I gasp when his hips snuggle against mine. He's hard, oh, so hard, and I can't help but push back into him, both of us wanting and needing the double layers of denim between us to disappear. "Shh," Duncan says, his voice warm and seductive in my ear. "Let's just do this together."
I'm barely looking at the ball now, instead feeling Duncan's hands on mine, his body pressed into my back, his, oh my God, his cock pushing against my hips. I don't even notice when I bring the putter through, striking the ball and sending it down the course. Without even caring, I drop the putter, turning around to kiss Duncan, only barely noticing when I hear the sound of my ball dropping into the hole. "A hole in one. Nice shot.”
"I had help,” I whisper in between kisses. "And lots of inspiration."
"So where to now?" Duncan asks, his left hand resting on the upper curve of my ass. "More pizza? Zombies? Another round?"
I shake my head and kiss him again. "Take me to your place,” I say with my most sultry look.
The entire ride back, my body is humming, and I can’t wait until we’re at his place. He pulls up in front of his apartment building, and while I know it's an upscale, I don't care, my eyes only on him as he lifts me off the bike and into his arms. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me, so strong that I’m no more strain than a feather in his arms, to the elevator and up to his apartment. "Carrie, are you sure?”
"It's okay, Duncan. I trust you," I say, letting go of his body long enough to push off my shoes and strip off my jacket. "I trust you,” I repeat.
Duncan stops, his eyes full of emotion. "Carrie—"
"Shh," I say, kissing him again. I peel off his leather jacket and run my hands over his chest, shivering in anticipation. "We can talk afterward. I have only one request."
"What's that?"
I pat his chest, feeling the muscles underneath. "I'm a big girl. I don't break. Show me your strength.”
His triumphant, ecstatic growl as he lifts me and carries me back into the bedroom is all the answer I need. We land on the bed in a tangle of arms, legs and bodies, his mouth hot on my neck and his hands needy, demanding as he pulls my t-shirt up and off, leaving me in just my bra and jeans. As he’s kissing down, I'm trembling as his lips find the tops of my breasts, his fingers massaging the soft flesh. "Duncan . . ."
"You're perfect," he whispers as he pulls the strap of my bra off my shoulder, flipping the cup down and exposing my breast to him. He stops, and a smile spreads across his face as he sees me exposed to him.
"Yummy." He chuckles before nearly devouring my breast, sucking and licking on my stiff nipple. He rolls it around with his lips, his tongue sending lightning bolts of pleasure through me with every brush over the tip, and I can't believe it feels this good. Even in my fantasies, it wasn't this good. I claw at his shirt, until finally, it pulls free of his jeans, and I can feel the muscles and skin that I've watched flex for so many workouts under my hands. His skin is remarkably soft, while his hands are just slightly rough as he kneads my free breast with his left hand while his right hand does the same to my ass.
When I get Duncan's shirt up high enough, he pauses and sits back, allowing me to peel the shirt the rest of the way off and throw it across the room. I reach back and unhook my bra, freeing myself totally, and then, I unsnap my jeans. I lie back on the bed, starting to take them off when Duncan stops my hands, taking over to peel them the rest of the way down and off. He marvels at my legs, running his hands up and down them, and then, in a total surprise move, kisses my toes. "They're so cute, I couldn't resist."
I giggle and spread my legs slightly, beckoning him forward. "You can kiss anywhere you’d like."
He chuckles and gets off the bed, unsnapping his jeans and going over to his dresser, opening the drawer and coming back with a condom and lubricant. "Safety first.”
"Would you like a hand?"
"A hand . . . or a hand?" Duncan says while I start to rub myself with my fingers. My body is already on fire, and I can’t resist. He sets the condom and lube on the edge of the bed and reaches for the waistband of his jeans, pushing them the rest of the way down, revealing himself totally to me.
He's perfect. It's the only word that can describe him as his cock hangs in front of him, heavy and huge. I hold my breath as Duncan reaches for the condom next to him, and I suddenly can't. "Wait!"
"What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes suddenly worried. I nod and get to my knees, crawling across the bed and taking the warm, sexy cock in my hand.
"I wanted a taste," I hum before I kiss the tip of his cock, licking around his flared mushroom head, marveling at the taste and texture. I spread my lips around him, swallowing him until his shaft is buried deep in my mouth, pulling back and worshipping his cock. With a gleam in my eye, I swallow him deeper, all the way until the trimmed hairs at his base press against my lips. He's stretching my lips, but my throat has no problem massaging the head of his cock until I pull back, letting him out with a loud pop. "Delicious."
"Holy fuck," Duncan marvels, stroking my face with his hand. "How did you—"
“Never did have much of a gag reflex," I reveal, turning around and pushing my panties down halfway. "Now, I think you can take care of the rest, can't you?"
I hear the foil packet of the condom rip, and then a little squirt as he smears lube on his cock, even though I'm dripping wet and ready for him. He reaches between my legs, rubbing my pussy, and I can't help it, lowering my head and pushing back into his questing digits. He hasn't even penetrated me yet, and I'm on the quaking edge of coming, when I stop, feeling the head of his cock at my entrance. "Oh, yes . . . yes."
Duncan eases his way in slowly, which I’m grateful for. Still, I push back, encouraging him to keep going until I'm at the limits of my ability to stretch, and he pulls back, giving my body a chance to adjust.
"So perfect," Duncan whispers as he eases in again, deeper this time, pulling out and pushing in with slow, tender strokes until I feel his thighs settle against my hips. All the way in, and I'm split nearly in half, lost in the sensations and pleasure. "Carrie."
“Don’t hold back,” I remind him, pulling forward and pushing back onto his amazing cock. “Give me all of it."
Duncan growls again, his hands pushing me forward, crushing me into the bed as he mounts the mattress behind me, my hips in the air and my back bent nearly in half as he starts driving himself into me mercilessly, powerfully, each thrust of his hips smashing into me, obliterating any resistance I could have put up even if I wanted to.
Instead, I'm in heaven. It's never felt this good, each nerve exploding with his punishing thrusts, my body trembling on that heady mix of pleasure and pain that feeds off each other, elevating both. I'm helpless, groaning and lost in the waves of pleasure that shoot through my body, pushing back and begging for more, more, more from him.
Duncan increases his pace and his power, jackhammering into me hard and fast, taking my body to heights of pleasure I've never felt before. I should be coming, but I'm not. There's not enough time between one thrust and the next for the chain reaction to even start, and instead, his cock smashes through any concept I have of sexual ecstasy, my universe coming down to two things. One, that Duncan is the one I’ve been looking for. And two, that I need to give back to him as good as I'm getting.
The competitive athlete inside me comes forward, and I'm pushing back into him, growling with him, telling him to give me more, harder, to fuck me as hard as he can. We're building, higher and higher, the bed crashing against the wall in front of me, and I'm dripping with sweat, my body exhausted, but I won't give in. He's given me so much, I want to show him that I can take it and give it back to him.
"Carrie . . . I'm going—"
"Come!" I growl, my own body exploding as I feel him swell inside me, and he's coming, his last powerful thrust driving me into the mattress and into oblivion as I climax. I'm crushed beneath him, sandwiched between his powerful body and the mattress beneath me, which is good, because I've lost control of my body. My feet drum on the mattress, my hands scratch at the blanket, and I scream out, unable to control myself as I come harder than I ever have before in my life.
When it finally passes, Duncan pulls me into him, and I feel him shaking behind me, his shoulders quivering as he spoons and holds me. I turn and see there’s something in his face. "What is it?"
"You," Duncan whispers, stroking my face. “That was fucking perfect.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” I reply. “Think we can do this again before I leave? Or should I just stay? You're too good to only have once."
Chapter 9
Duncan
Staying the night becomes staying the weekend, and we end up staying in bed most of the day Sunday too. Finally, on Sunday night, I’m taking her home.
"I want to invite you up, but if I do, I don't think I can ask you to leave," she says with a regretful chuckle. "And I've got a test in Organic Chemistry this week. Mid-terms, you know. My teacher's a total pain in the ass too."
"I know," I reply with a smile. I've been smiling all day, it seems, and I can't stop it. Not that I want to. "That's not as crazy as the thoughts going through my head right now, though."
"Which are?"
"Ditch the dorm room. My apartment is a two-bedroom place, though of course, I’d rather you stay in mine. We could turn the other into a study room or something."
Carrie smiles and kisses my cheek. “That sounds amazing, but let’s not move too fast. If things are going well after mid-terms, we can talk about it. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
I shake my head sorrowfully. "Nope. At least, not at practice. I'm suspended, remember? I meet with Coach B on Tuesday."
"What are you going to do?"
I smile and stroke her hair. It's so beautiful, pale gold and silky, and I've spent all day marveling at it, whether spread out on a pillow underneath me or flung into the air as she rides on top of me. "I'm going to do the right thing, or maybe, just what I know you would want me to do, and what I should do. Don't worry about it right now, though. Go crack those books. I'll see you Tuesday, maybe. We're still on for a study session Tuesday night, right?"
"Right," Carrie says. "Good night, Duncan."
"Good night, Carrie."
I get back on my bike and ride away, stopping by the athletic complex. I don't know why, except that I want to look on the stadium again, even if I can't go inside the Pavilion. I shouldn't even be here. I'm suspended from the team, and I can't even be in the building until Tuesday.
I see someone else outside when I pull up, and as I get closer, the street lamps reveal that it's Alicia Torres. I respect her, even if I've never told her as much. She's got too much heart as a basketball player not to.
"Hey Chicha," I say as I take a seat on the big concrete steps that lead to the upper levels, where you go into the Pavilion in order to get tickets and go to the big arena inside. She hates the nickname. It's one that her big brother gave her when she was a baby, and I'm the only person she lets get away with it. Probably because she knows I don't give a damn if she wants me to use it or not. "I figured basketball would have the day off."
"We do. I came in for some personal work," Alicia says, setting her bag down. "You know, hanging around here isn't the smartest idea. I think there's about a hundred people who want to kick your ass right now."
"Yeah, I figured the same thing. The whole football team, even the scout team Rudys. But . . . well, I've never been the smartest person.”
Alicia chuckles and takes a seat on the steps beside me, her bag between us. “You said it—not me. I can understand it though. I mean, I've gotten tossed out of three games myself, and Coach has made it clear that if I get tossed for techs again, I'm sitting out a week."
"You certainly picked the right school to go to, with your per
sonality." I chuckle, and Alicia joins in. "But?"
"But, I've never heard of you losing control like that. I was in the stands, and I'll be honest, it scared the hell outta me watching you. You were about ready to kill someone, I think."
"At the time," I sigh, looking at the distinctive arcs of the lights of the football stadium curving up into the night, dark but still visible against the background lights of the city. "I probably was. You're right. I've never lost control like that before."
Alicia hums, as if she'd expected it. "I don't know what caused it. Honestly, I don't really care, either . . . no offense."
A car pulls up before I can reply, and Alicia grabs her bag. "That's my ride. Take care of yourself, Duncan, and get your head right. Good luck with Coach B on Tuesday."
Alicia jogs down the steps and climbs in. In the dome light, I see that the driver is a guy, and she gives him a kiss on the cheek as she slides into the passenger side before the door closes and they drive off.
After she leaves, I lean back, looking up at the moon, my mind spinning at what she said about me losing control. My dad really has done a number on me.
Up to this point in my life, as much as I disliked him, I’ve been just like my father. I’ve been Winston Hart, recast in a younger, slightly more athletic frame. Hell, Dad was a basketball player in college, and Mom, at least before she got tired of his shit and took off, was an athlete as well. She was wife number two for him, about five years younger . . . and he cheated on her soon after I was born, at least from what I’ve heard. I wish Mom had stuck around longer, or at least to see me, but after Dad's lawyers got done with her, she moved back to New Jersey, where she was from. I’m not even sure how that happened, but with money, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I haven't heard from Mom in years.
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