by Lynne Jaymes
We turn onto the two-lane road that passes for a highway in this part of Texas and I force myself to keep the speed down, as much to make the ride last longer as to keep us both safe. I’ve given lots of girls rides before, but in San Francisco there are helmets and leather jackets zipped up tight against the cold. Riding over the gently rolling hills of Central Texas through the warm night air with nothing but our shirts between us is something else altogether.
Too soon, we’re at our building and I pull up under the parking shelter, holding the bike so that Jenna can slide off. I park it and kill the ignition, the sudden silence surrounding us in the darkness.
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing my backpack from her.
“Thank you for the ride,” she says.
It’s suddenly a little awkward between us, like her legs weren’t pressed against my thighs two minutes ago. We walk silently toward the glass door of the building and I hold it open for her like I did the other day. This time though, her eyes meet mine as she walks through and there’s a daring look in them I haven’t seen before. Instead of letting her walk ahead of me, we walk slowly up the stairs together, neither of us knowing what to say. Part of me doesn’t want this night to end and the other, smaller, rational part of me knows that to take it further wouldn’t be fair. To either of us.
We pass my apartment and I can hear the gaming system booming from the other side. Jessie’s probably not going to be finished anytime soon. I walk her to her door and we stand there for a few seconds.
“I’m glad it was you at the bar tonight,” she says.
I look down at the worn, grey carpet. “I’m glad it was you too. I’ve wanted to talk to you all year.” What am I doing here? I should tell her goodnight and walk away instead of standing here sounding like a teenager at the prom.
“Really?” She looks like she’s trying decide if that’s just a line. “Why didn’t you?”
I look back down and Jenna bites her bottom lip just slightly in a way that’s both innocent and undeniably sexy.
“I just…” I can’t look at her anymore, so I pull my eyes away and stare down the empty hallway. Why haven’t I spoken to her in almost seven months? Because I’ve spent that time becoming someone new and I can’t wreck all of that hard work. Because I’d have to tell her about all of the things that I’ve kept hidden from everyone if we got involved. Because I’d have to be honest with her—and right now I can’t be honest with anyone. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh,” she says vaguely and I know she doesn’t understand. How could she? Jenna puts the key in her door. “Do you want to come in for a minute? I’ve got a couple of beers in the fridge.”
I glance at my own front door. The one I should be walking through right about now. “I should go…”
There’s no denying the disappointment in her eyes when she looks at me and it’s painful to know what I could have here if I just take that one step forward.
“Okay,” Jenna says. She stands up on tiptoes and bends toward me, her lips grazing my cheek. My head is filled with the soft, powdery scent of her mixed with something deeper and sexier. “Thanks for the ride.” She lifts one finger and draws it down my neck slowly and that’s all it takes for me to lose every ounce of my resolve.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I bend down and kiss her so hard that I feel the breath leave my body as I press her up against the door and lace her fingers through my own. I’m starting to get lost in the kiss when the reality of what I’m doing hits me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking a step back from her. The taste of her is still on my lips and I want more, so much more, but I can’t. It’s not right.
“Don’t be,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer.
But I resist, glancing away because I know if I look into her eyes I’ll lose every ounce of willpower I’m trying to summon. I can’t believe I’m about to undo everything I’ve put together these past few months. But Jenna is right here in front of me and she deserves to know the truth. “Listen…there are some things you don’t know about me…”
She looks into my eyes and I’m caught. “An STD?” she says boldly.
I wince. “No.”
“A felony? A girlfriend? A baby?”
I can’t help but laugh. In light of her guesses, maybe my secret’s not such a big deal. “No. Nothing like that.”
She grabs both of my hands and pulls me to her and every shred of resolve melts away. “Then I don’t care.”
Chapter Four (Jenna)
Ty’s arousal grows against my thigh as he presses me into the door, his lips soft and insistent as they explore mine. I shift and hear a soft moan as I grind against him. That tiny sound reverberates inside of me and makes me want him more every second. The hunger in his kiss is as palpable as the strength in his arms as he pulls me closer to him, his tongue parting my lips, his movements powerful and intense and it feels like I’m the only girl he’s ever kissed like this. I haven’t been with a guy all year and maybe it’s finally time for the drought to be over. I can trust Ty, something down deep tells me that’s true.
“Wait,” I say breathlessly, turning my key in the lock. I say a prayer and practically shout when I swing the door open and see that they’re answered. Courtney’s out. We’re alone.
Ty hesitates in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling up the entire space. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, glancing around the empty apartment.
I need to find a way back to the place we were just a few seconds ago. “I’ve never been so sure of anything,” I say, pulling him inside and kicking the door closed behind him.
Ty shakes his head with a grin on his face, but he follows me into the room. We haven’t taken more than five steps when I feel his arm around my waist pulling me close to him, his lips on the back of my neck in a way that sends a jolt of electricity up my spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, working his way down my neck until I spin around to face him.
Ty pulls away again, but the hesitation’s gone. He just looks at me silently, appreciatively, his eyes penetrating every nerve ending in my body. Without a word, he slides one finger under my camisole strap and eases it down over my shoulder, bending down to brush his lips over my bare skin, before gently pulling the other one down and running his thumbs over my collarbones.
I step closer to him and tilt my head up until he bends down and his lips find mine again. I feel his hand around my back and in seconds, the zipper is undone and my camisole is in a pool of fabric at my feet. Stepping out of my top, I take his hand and lead him to my room, pull him inside and shut the door. Once inside, Ty doesn’t even glance around, just takes charge, easing me down onto the bed and trailing a finger from the base of my throat, down my stomach to the top of my pants. My breast fills his hand perfectly as he caresses it, bending down to pull the nipple into his mouth. My body is throbbing with his tongue on my skin and I can feel wetness spreading downward as he strokes my stomach with his free hand. Propping himself up on his arms, he kisses the space between my breasts, his tongue tasting my skin as he works his way down my body.
I put my hand under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin and the rippling contours of his muscles. I want to see him, all of him, and Ty smiles as I lift his shirt over his head and toss it on the floor. I try not to react, but he really is a perfect specimen. What I felt under there was nothing compared to the sculpted definition that’s the result of countless hours of workouts and batting practice. Aside from some fine, blond hairs on his arms, his skin is totally smooth, marked only by a few tattoos that wind their way around his muscular upper arms and shoulders. He’s not smiling anymore, just watching me watch him with those translucent green eyes. I reach for the button of his jeans, but he grabs my wrist and pulls both arms over my head holding them loosely and I understand. I can look, but not touch.
Instead, Ty’s tongue works its way down my chest again, one hand slipping between my thighs. I can feel him hesitate, but I don’t s
top him, the sensation of his fingers on me sending shivers through my entire body. Slowly he dips his hand into the waistband of my pants and then slides it down until his fingers meet the lace of my panties. I’m already wet, and I’m sure he can tell as he starts to stroke me through the fabric, but I’m quickly losing all control. My body arches up to meet his fingers as they find the perfect rhythm and I grind against his hand as the wave starts deep inside of me, building and crashing until I curl against him, still trembling from the force of the orgasm.
Ty’s smiling as I open my eyes to look at him. I should feel embarrassed, exposed from losing control in front of him, but I don’t.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, nuzzling my neck.
“So are you,” I say, the reality of so many months of wanting him far exceeding anything I could have imagined. I run my finger down his thigh again, but he reaches out to stop me.
“Don’t start something that you can’t finish,” he says.
I grin at him. “What if I want to finish it?”
Ty groans. “You’re not making this easy.”
I kiss him again, my tongue parting his lips and my hand caressing the bulge in his jeans. I know we should wait, that Ty’s the one making sense here, but more than anything I’d love to see his jeans on my floor and his body in my bed.
Ty pushes against me for a few seconds before he moves out of reach. “You’re dangerous.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not bad at all.” He runs his finger over the curve of my lip. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”
I can’t help but smile at that. It feels like he actually means it. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. From the first minute I saw you in the hallway months ago.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe that.”
He shifts a little on the bed. “You were wearing black leggings and a tiny pink t-shirt and carrying a red chair up the stairs with a blond girl.”
“That was right after we moved in,” I say, knowing that I’ve been wanting him for just as long. I tuck myself into the curve of his body, my ear to his chest, tracing the tattoo on his left arm with my finger. It’s a mask of some kind with a tribal feel. “Does this mean anything?”
He glances down at the design. “Not really. I just liked it.”
“It suits you.”
“You don’t have any tattoos do you?”
“Nope—doesn’t really work with the whole ballet thing. I only have one hole in each ear too.” I look down at my unmarked skin wondering what Madame would do if I got a huge, visible tattoo. “Do you think I should get some?”
Ty runs a hand up the length of my spine, his fingers tracing each bump. “No. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are.” The funny thing is, in his hands, I almost feel perfect.
I don’t say anything, just keep one hand on his chest and listen to his steady breathing. We must have both fallen asleep because the next thing I hear is Courtney coming in the front door. I listen to her move around the apartment as I watch Ty sleep. Even relaxed, the muscles on his chest stand out and his full, perfect lips make me want to kiss him all over again.
Courtney runs the water in the bathroom, then I hear her shuffle down the hall and shut her door. The sound wakes Ty, and he twitches and stretches, trying to figure out where he is.
“Mmm,” he sighs. “What time is it?”
I glance at my phone. “Almost two.”
He kisses me quickly then sits up in bed and reaches for his clothes. “I should go.”
I turn on my side and watch him, tracing his back with my fingernail. “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” he says, reaching for his shirt on the floor and pulling it over his head. The mood has changed and it feels like he’s already gone. “Plus you have an early class in the morning, remember?”
I don’t care about class anymore. All I want to do is stay in bed with Ty all night and start over again when the sun comes up. “Right,” is all I say, knowing that pushing the issue is the wrong way to go. “At least you don’t have to go far.”
“Nope,” he says, running a hand over his head. “Don’t get up—I’ll let myself out.”
He leans over and kisses me again, and before I can reach out to pull him back down with me, he’s gone. I hear the front door close softly behind him and roll over and turn out the light. I keep my eyes open in the inky blackness trying to sort out my thoughts, because suddenly, it feels like I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Five (Ty)
I royally fucked up. I knew it before the whole thing started, but I did it anyway, and for a brief moment it was so totally worth it. Jenna has a slamming body, every muscle tight on her petite frame, nothing out of place. But it’s more than that. The challenge in her eyes, the quick laughter, the intelligence behind that beautiful face. And the desire and drive to get what she really wants. I see part of me in her, the part that wants the same thing I do—to call her own shots, to make her own success and that’s almost hotter than sex. Almost.
“What the hell happened to you the other night?” Mitch asks, catching up to me in the quad on Tuesday.
I don’t stop walking. “You know,” I say with a shrug, hoping that’s going to satisfy him. At least I didn’t sleep with her. I’m not that much of a pig. Although not taking her up on her offer was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. If I hadn’t gotten out of her bed and walked away at that very second, I knew there would be no going back.
“I don’t know, which is why I’m asking. Did you get with Jenna?”
“None of your fucking business,” I say. I’ve been avoiding Jenna since Saturday night and I feel like a total dick about it. Catching a glimpse of her in the hall or on campus used to be one of the few things I looked forward to outside of baseball, and now that’s gone for good.
“Then that’s a ‘no.’ Which is too bad because that girl is hot.”
I glance at him. “I’m sure Nina would love to hear that.”
Mitch shrugs. “I’m still allowed to look.”
I remember the stares and the jokes of the guys in the bar when they saw Mitch and Nina together that night and I can’t help myself. “Why are you going out with her anyway?”
“What do you mean why?” He slows his pace. “Nina’s amazing. She’s a dancer, seriously smart and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s insanely gorgeous.”
I look around to see if anyone can hear our conversation. “I know that. But…you know…” I so don’t want to say it out loud.
Mitch stops walking and stares at me. “Because she’s black? That’s what you mean. That I’m not supposed to go out with her because she’s black and I’m not?”
Shit. I didn’t want to get into this and now he thinks I’m a total racist and at this point there’s nothing I can say to deny it. I’ve got to learn to shut my mouth. “It’s not just that.” I look around. “Don’t people give you a lot of shit here? I mean, things are different in California. People are more used to the interracial thing there. But here…I mean you still don’t see it all that often.”
I watch his face as he figures out his answer. I know what I want him to say. “My parents don’t care—they love Nina and they know how fucking lucky I am that she agreed to go out with me in the first place. Her parents are cool too, and even if nobody was, I’d go out with her anyway.” I can see the anger rising up in his eyes and honestly I’m cheering for it. “It’s nobody’s fucking business who I’m going out with. Got that?”
I hold up my hands. I know Mitch probably thinks I’m an asshole and I have no way to defend myself now. “It’s cool. I like Nina. I just don’t want to see anybody get hurt, that’s all.”
Mitch considers it for a moment, but I see him relax a little. “Fine,” he starts to walk away. “See you at the game.”
The fact that Garvin is doing well this season is reflected in the packed stadium this afternoon. T
he stands are a sea of red and white as fans wave State banners and big foam fingers every time we’re up to bat. Mitch didn’t speak to me very much during warm-ups and I have the sneaking feeling that I can add his friendship to the list of things I’ve fucked up in the past couple of days. Good thing I’m set on focusing on baseball because it looks like that’s all I’m going to have left.
Rowan walks to the mound, as calm and cool as I’ve ever seen him despite the fact that the bases are loaded and we’re down by one in the top of the ninth. As his stats have improved the past few weeks, not only is Rowan pitching all of our hardest games, but the tutus and the hassling seem to have vanished. Nothing makes gay rumors disappear faster than a hot arm.
He’s not supposed to pitch today, but this game got out of hand in the last few innings and coach has no choice. Throwing a few practice pitches, he looks in command and he easily shuts down the next three batters with hardly a pitch to spare.
“Nice work,” I say, holding out my hand as he walks back to the dugout.
“Your turn,” he says with a smile, slapping my hand as he tosses his glove onto the bench.
I grab the diamonds in the chain link fence. “Hey, Mitch,” I say as he passes me on the way to the plate, last in our batting order. “Their pitcher’s got a smooth fastball, but there’s a hitch in his high leg when he’s throwing a curve and his control is shit.”
“Thanks,” he says, giving me a nod.
“Let’s go Mitch!” I shout from the sidelines, stopping my practice swings to watch the pitcher. Sure enough, his high leg twitches and Mitch stands looking as an outside curve hits the catcher’s mitt for a ball.
Bat on his shoulder, Mitch waits and sees the straight delivery just as I do, swinging the bat to meet the ball with a loud crack as it sails up the infield line, past the third baseman for a single. Mitch takes off his batting gloves and stuffs them in his back pocket as I walk to the plate. With Mitch on first, I’m the winning run and everybody knows it.