by Lucy Snow
I sighed, and before I knew what I was doing I found myself walking through the facility to the residence area, where Lance still lived alone. I went up to his door and found it open, with Lance inside unpacking the bag he had brought to the medical wing weeks earlier.
It was so good to see him, but at the same time, the nagging feeling of unease that had been following me for a week now hadn’t let go - I still knew there was something wrong between Lance and I.
He looked up when he saw me standing just outside. “Hey, Charlotte!” he smiled, opening his arms out. “It’s like a housewarming party! Come on in!”
I stepped in, wondering from Lance’s remark about the housewarming party if anyone else was already here, but the small studio was empty. “I love what you’ve done with the place.” I closed the door behind me, and once again Lance and I were in our own little world.
Somehow, with us, that felt right, that felt natural.
“I like to call it my…tan period,” Lance said with gusto.
“Well, it is very tan.” That was about all I could say about the place. It was daily nondescript.
“Can I do anything for you?”
“Oh, no, I just wanted to see how you were adjusting to living back in your old place, is all, I was just walking by…”
Lance put his hands on his hips. “Just walking by, eh?”
My face reddened. “Yeah, what of it?”
“Charlotte, I’m the only person in this entire wing of the facility. If anyone’s here these days, I’m usually involved. You weren’t just walking by…”
“Fine, fine, I wasn’t. I just…I wanted to see you.”
Lance’s gaze softened and he stepped toward me. “Charlotte, did you miss me living in the medical wing?”
“No! That’s not it at all!” I turned around, unable to face him, trying to find the right words, but as soon as I had, I felt Lance’s huge arms wrap me up and pull me into him. “Mmmmm,” I moaned, letting my legs turn to putty and collapsing into his arms. “That feels amazing.”
“I missed being so close to you too, Charlotte,” Lance whispered gruffly into my ear. “I liked having you at my beck and call.”
My eyes dropped open. “Ugh!” I shook free of his arms. “Come on! You did not just say that.”
Lance chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. That’s where I should have been right then, pressed up against his chest. “What? It’s true! That was super hot.”
“I was being professional, Lance! That was work! I’m very good at what I do!”
“Don’t I know it. And it wasn’t all professional, was it?”
“N-No, of course not.”
Lance opened his arms wide again. “I know which parts were professional and which were personal,” he growled, inviting me in with his low voice.
I couldn’t help it, I rushed back to him, jumping into his arms and planting kiss after kiss into his face and lips. “And this,” he moaned in between kisses, “is strictly personal.”
“I like the sound of that,” I whispered. “Fuck me, Lance.”
“How could I refuse such a request?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I don’t have time to.” And then we were kissing and our clothes were coming off and Lance was pressing his cock into me.
I was soaking wet and he slid right in, filling me to the hilt on his first stroke. We found our now-familiar rhythm and I watched the fire in Lance’s dark eyes as I rode his cock, shocked at how much this man turned me on, how much I wanted to rake my fingernails over his strong back, how I wanted to map out all his muscles and write a book about them.
Lance couldn’t stay away from my boobs while we fucked. At all times he kept at least one hand on them, the other on my waist, guiding me up and down and controlling the speed at which he moved me to make the most of our connected time, which made it even hotter to me.
I’d look down and see his huge and rough hands gripping my small body and nearly collapse out of lust and desire. He filled me up and I shook my dark hair out, clasping my hands together behind Lance’s neck and leaning back throwing my head back as far out as I could, thrusting my breasts toward him, my nipples aching for the touch of his lips, his fingers, his teeth.
I stared deep into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking while he fucked me. Did he appreciate all I did to make him feel good? Did he like how I looked when I rolled forward and presented my breasts to him? Or was he thinking, like all girls guess guys think, “having sex woo!”
I shook my head and thankfully those thoughts disappeared and I got back into the moment, just as Lance took his hand off my breasts and reached around my back, into my hair, and pulled it downward toward the bed. I moaned, loving the light pain his hair pulling caused, and I looked up in reflex.
Lance leaned forward and began attacking my neck with his lips, kissing me all up and down, trailing his tongue lightly across me. He knew just how much that turned me on, and I shuddered with delight as he did it, my breath hitching in my lungs as I tried to make sense of all that I was feeling.
My legs tightened around his, and Lance growled as he started to get even hotter, and I moaned along with him, feeling my own orgasm rushing toward me like an oncoming train. I couldn’t hold it till he was ready this time, and after a few more seconds I pressed my head into Lance’s massive chest and screamed as I came.
Lance picked up the pace at which he lifted and lowered me onto his cock and I responded, ragged from cumming but still eager to make him feel good. When he came, Lance groaned and looked up, his eyes rolling back, and he shook below me as I felt the rush of his cum inside the condom.
We must have taken a short nap after that, because when I next gathered my wits about me, we were lying in Lance’s bed, with just the sheet over us. I wasn’t cold, though, even though they barely climate controlled the residence wing since no one but Lance lived here. Lance had me in his arms and his huge mass kept me entirely warm enough for my taste.
The nagging feeling in the back of my head had finally decided that it was done hanging out in the rear and had come forward. It pounded into my head like a migraine and I couldn’t shake it. All of a sudden being in this room with Lance, in his arms, all of which should have felt right and perfect and wonderful just felt scary and full of doubt, and I had to get out of there as quickly as I possibly could.
I wriggled free enough to look at the clock on the wall and realized I had spent way more time here than I had expected to, and I tried to get out of the bed without waking Lance.
“Hey,” he grunted, coming awake and rolling over, a big arm covering me up, momentarily making me lose my focus. “Where are you going?”
“I gotta go, I didn’t realize how late it was. We fell asleep!”
“Yeah, that sometimes happens after you do what we just did,” Lance said with a grin. “We could go for another round.”
“I really do have to go, Lance,” I murmured, getting out of bed and looking around for my clothes. I found them in a pile near the chair and I hurried over there and started getting dressed.
“Oh, uh, OK,” Lance shook his head and watched me get dressed. “
“What’re you looking at?”
He propped his head up on his arm, still watching me. “I like watching you put on clothing almost as much as I like watching you take it off.”
Ordinarily that would have made me swoon, and more than likely jump back to bed with him. But right now it just made me want to leave faster. What was going on with me?
I had no idea.
“Charlotte,” Lance started, sitting up in bed, his hands on either side of his legs. “Is everything OK?” He sounded concerned. Momentarily, I was thrilled that Lance had started noticing these cues of mine.
“Yes, everything’s fine.” I looked around for the rest of my stuff, then I stopped, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them. “Wait, that’s not fair to you. No, Lance, things aren’t OK.”
“I could tell. What’s wrong?”
“This, right? This is all wrong. You and me, this is all wrong. We can’t make this really work, can we?”
Lance frowned. “I don’t understand. We seem to be doing OK until just now…”
I almost laughed, but it came out wrong. “Doing OK? We’ve had more ups and downs than a romantic comedy, Lance, and it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other!”
“I know it hasn’t been ideal, but…”
“But what?” My voice raised as I finally let all of it out. “We met and slept together on the first night. Neither of us thought this was going anywhere! We were never supposed to see each other again!”
Lance stood up and looked down at me. “Is that what you wish had happened? That we never saw each other after that night?”
“No!” I gulped, “I mean, sometimes maybe. It would make things easier, certainly.”
“I don’t try and make things easier for myself, Charlotte. I try to do the right thing.”
“That’s bullshit, Lance, and you know it. All this nonsense about a rule, no dating during the season, all that stuff. That’s just making things easier for you, isn’t it? That’s just denying who you are so it’s easier to play football!”
He had nothing to say, but he opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could find the words. “What’re you saying? You want to end this right now?”
“That’s best, isn’t it? You’re about to get back on the field, and soon you’ll be starting. Irrational confidence and optimism, isn’t that what you called it?”
“So? Maybe I do get back on the field, what then? How does that affect the two of us?” I could see Lance thinking hard, trying to figure out what I meant.
“You get back on the field, you take the Patriots to the playoffs, you win a championship, and suddenly the entire world knows who Lance Parker is.”
The realization dawned on him and Lance leaned back. “So that’s it? You’re scared I’ll let fame go to my head? You’re scared I won’t be able to keep my cock out of any random girl who throws herself my way? Is that it?”
Now it was my turn not have any words. I tested out my mouth just like Lance had earlier, before squeaking out, “Yes!” I turned around, again unable to look at him.
Lance walked around me till I was facing him all over again. “Charlotte, if you don’t know me well enough by now to know that’s not the kind of guy I am, maybe you’re right after all, maybe this wasn’t going to work out.”
Lance stepped back and gestured toward the door. “Maybe we were just fooling ourselves.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I felt crushing to say it, it felt like the weight of the world was falling down on me.
“Alright, then, I’ll respect your decision,” Lance said, barely above a whisper. “Even though I don’t agree with it for a second.”
“Thank you.” I walked toward the door, each step feeling like there were stones in my shoes. Resting my hand on the knob, I turned around. “We’ll keep it professional for work stuff?”
Lance looked up. “Yeah. I can do that.” He smiled. “I guess I don’t have a heart to steal after all, eh?”
I didn’t know what that meant, so I let it hang there. “Goodbye, Lance,” I whispered as I turned around and left the room.
Just before the door closed I heard Lance reply, “goodbye, Charlotte.”
I rested myself against the wall outside Lance’s door, my thoughts rioting in my head. I thought this would make me feel better, I thought the voices in my head would quiet down and let me focus better, but I was totally wrong.
Why didn’t I feel any better? Had I made a huge mistake?
CHAPTER 19 - LANCE
Maybe Drake was right. Maybe I didn’t have a heart to steal after all. I mean, if I had, would I have really stood there and watched Charlotte leave like that?
Of course I’d see her again, she and I still worked together, and I knew she needed the job, and I didn’t have time to get another trainer so late in the season.
But still, if I was really the kind of man who could get attached to someone as much as I thought I felt connected to Charlotte before the last 5 minutes, would I really have let her go like that?
I didn’t think so.
I sat back down on my bed after that and tried to think about her as little as possible. As much as I’d want to wallow in despair or try and figure out a clever way to get her back, I had to face reality - she didn’t want to be with me, for whatever reason, and I had something else to worry about.
Getting my career back on track. And that meant getting my starting job back.
The next week or so I spent doing just that, or whatever I could to make that happen. I was first to every meeting, had the answer to every question the quarterbacks’ coach asked, and in team meetings I took over as much as I could. Drake perked up when I walked in the room, and told me afterward that guys had noticed I was back in my old form again.
That felt good to hear, I really had missed being around my brothers all this time. Oliver Lee sulked at first, but he didn’t have nearly the knowledge I had, so he couldn’t do any better than me when the questions got tough.
When it came to the weight room, I came back with a vengeance, putting weight on my knee and feeling how good it felt to work up a sweat and really move some weight around. I set more than one new personal record in a bunch of lifts, and at times the entire gym was full of guys holding up their own workouts to watch me push out another set. Sure, I wasn’t lifting as heavy as any of the linemen, but I was holding my own.
The practice field was the same way. Sure, I was still on the scout team making sure the defense was prepared, but I started to really get into it, watching film on the opposing quarterbacks and figuring out how to tailor my game to really get into their heads and figure out why they did what they did, while giving it my own touch and flair.
Soon I had our backup offense giving the starting defense a good run for their money, and the coaches noticed. During a couple practices, Coach Armstrong pulled me aside and told me to ease up a bit so the defensive starters didn’t lose their confidence. I laughed and agreed, but Armstrong told me under his breath to keep doing what I was doing.
That was a good sign, I thought.
Everything aside from Charlotte was starting to go my way. Of course, Charlotte, though I would never admit it even to myself, had become one of, if not the most, important aspects of my life.
I still saw her every day. She still worked on me, giving me massages, helping me stretch out, making sure I wasn’t re-aggravating the healing injury in my knee. It must have been tough on her to be touching me like that all the time, but it wasn’t easy for me either. The girl I wanted more than anything was so close to me and yet so far away.
I tried to shut it out as best as I could but she crept into my head at the weirdest times, and I would lose focus on the film I was watching, the question I was answering, or the play I was running on the field.
I had to get back to focusing on football. The Patriots were in a rough patch. After the last couple of losses, and due to the way the rest of the division and conference were playing out, we would need to win every single game from here on out in order to make it into the playoffs as a wildcard, which meant an extra game on our way to the championship.
That extra game didn’t matter, because right now we just had to make it there. Only 12 of the league’s 32 teams even got a shot - the other 20 had to watch from their couches, drowning their sorrows in defeat.
I wasn’t going to let the Patriots be one of those 20 teams, not if I could do anything about it.
We had 4 games left and each of them were critically important. I knew that. Oliver Lee knew that. The coaching staff and all the rest of the players knew that.
I knew everyone would buckle down and help make it happen.
Game day came, a Sunday like any other as December began in New England. We’d had a smattering
of snow each of the last few days, and the temperature had dropped quite a bit. I loved the cold weather, but most of the other guys complained bitterly, and some of them even made a game of finding the most creative ways to bitch and moan about the biting cold.
We all sat in the locker room before the game, after the coaches had given their final speeches. Normally I’d be totally inside my own head, thinking about the game, the preparation, and everything else I needed to keep track of in order to execute properly on the field.
Two things were different this time. The first was that I wasn’t starting, so the pressures wasn’t on nearly as much as it used to. I hated that. The pressure was what I loved, it was what made me thrive in situations like these. Even though the odds were against us, against a formidable Arizona team, nothing would have made me happier than to be starting right now, instead of fucking Oliver Lee. I cocked an eye at him sitting in his locker and rocking out to whatever music he was listening to.
I was the last guy to begrudge a guy his preparation routine, but he was the only one really making a party out of it. I preferred to be quiet, almost meditative. What was it Charlotte had called me? A ‘football monk’ - that was more right than she thought.
Charlotte.
The way she invaded my thoughts made it impossible for me to relax and get into the flow of the game. In a way, I was glad not to be playing. If I had to deal with both starting the game and thinking about her, I don’t know what I would have done.
Starting clock reached down to 20 minutes before kickoff and we had to take the field for warmups. I went out, giving a few of my brothers fist pounds on the way. Drake, in particular, found me out in the crowd. “Good to have you back with us, man,” he whispered.
“Yeah. It’s good to be back.”
Hud came up next as the defense made its way onto the field. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, buddy,” he looked down at me. “I’ll feel a lot better when you’re starting again.”
“Tell that to Armstrong, yeah?”
Hud’s face darkened. “Make no mistake, Parker, Coach and I have talked about that more than once.”