Any Given Snow Day

by Marie Harte

  He moved away from her to don a condom, but she stopped him.

  “Let me.”

  He watched her with narrow eyes, then rolled to his back and handed her the packet.

  She wanted him to feel what she had. Trusting him on a level that surprised her, she stroked his body and kissed her way down his dense, muscular chest. Past the corded abs that promised such strength, and followed the trail of hair to his long, thick cock.

  He hissed as she grazed his balls, then uttered her name like a prayer as she blew a breath over his cockhead. He was big, his slit wet. No doubt Mitch wanted her, and that power she held over him was itself an aphrodisiac. That a man so beautiful and strong would tremble in her hands made her want to prove something. To show him he’d need her every bit as much as she needed him

  She closed her mouth over his tip and smiled when he shouted and cupped her head. A burst of moisture filled her mouth, and he pleaded with her to stop and turn around.

  “Not gonna last,” he warned, then thrust deeper into her mouth as she bobbed over him.

  Fondling his sac while gloving him with her mouth, she sensed he’d reached the point of no return. Leaving him to roll the condom on, she watched his chest rise and fall, heard the swearing and the promises of retribution.

  But when he switched positions and had her flat on her back once more, there was nothing but tenderness in his gaze and a slow, purposeful taking as he thrust every inch inside her, filling her full.

  “Faster,” she begged, but he would not be rushed.

  He pushed until he couldn’t move any deeper, then retreated until only the hint of him remained before thrusting again. The excruciatingly slow pace made her crazed, and then he slammed inside her once more, and she came.

  She cried out, lost in passion, and felt him moving with fast, sure strokes. Then he groaned and stilled, kissing her shoulder, her mouth, her neck. He pumped one final time and stopped, shivering over her.

  “God, oh God. Fuck. Becca.” He continued to chant her name, then gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight.

  After some time, when they both could breathe again, he withdrew and left for the bathroom. He returned cleaned up and tucked them under the covers. “That was… Okay, I’ll just say it was amazing. Like I plugged my dick into an electrical socket.”

  She chuckled. “So romantic.”

  “What can I say? It’s true.”

  She snuggled into his arms, not at all alarmed at how close she felt to him just then. “You feel so good inside me. I can’t believe I came twice.”

  He rolled onto this back, letting her rest on top of him. “Twice? Honey, we’re nowhere near to being done.”

  “You think anyone will notice when I’m walking bowlegged?”

  He laughed. “Well, if you can walk out of here tomorrow and not be sore, then I’m not doing my job.”

  She jolted. “Tomorrow?”

  He just watched her. “Why not? You said Simon’s sleeping over at a friend’s house. Unless you have a date tonight or something else going on, why not stay with me?”

  “No date.” She frowned. “I don’t know what kind of impression you have of me, but I don’t sleep around.”

  He smiled. “Good to know.”

  “I wasn’t lying. It’s been over a year since I was with someone.”

  “And it wasn’t good sex, I believe you said.”

  She sighed. “He wasn’t any good, no.”

  “Did you guys have chemistry? Or was he just bad in bed?”

  “You really want to know?” Oddest conversation she’d ever had with a man after doing the deed. At the thought of men and the deed, she wondered that she hadn’t thought about Neal at all until now.

  “Uh oh. What’s that panicked look?”

  “I was just thinking about Neal.”

  “Neal?”

  “My husband.” She stared at Mitch, aware she had to work to recall Neal’s face. And she should have been more bothered about that fact.

  “Simon’s dad?” Mitch tucked her hair behind her ear, his gaze gentle.

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “Man, I’m not very good at the after-sex talk, am I?”

  His eyes crinkled in laughter. “Not at all. You suck. And not in a good way—not like before.”

  Chapter Ten

  Becca stared down at features becoming all too important to her. She closed her eyes and moved to lie next to him. She rubbed his chest, loving the way he massaged her neck, under her hair, making her into a mass of limp woman.

  “When Neal died, it about broke me. It took a few years before I could look at a man again and not think of him. I know, I should be over him. It’s been a long time.”

  “There’s no time limit on grieving, Becca.”

  That simple acceptance meant more to her than she could say. She refused to cry and took a moment before continuing. “Well, the men I first went out with were just okay. I think they gave me that connection with another person I was needing. A relationship with a man isn’t the same as being with family.”

  “I get you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, and she wanted to purr.

  “I’m not a total recluse. I’ve dated a little over the years. But the last guy… It had been a while. I was bored and lonely. He seemed nice. Intelligent, funny, financially independent. He was a good kisser too.”

  The fingers in her hair pause, then continued. “Better than me?”

  She gave a soft laugh. “Of course not.”

  “Of course not.”

  She smiled.

  “I can feel you laughing against my chest.”

  “Just a little.”

  “Continue with your story about that bad, awful, terrible sex from the bad kisser.”

  She laughed again. “We had an attraction. But when we finally got to bed, it turned bad. He was just…selfish and not great. I think he lasted maybe two seconds, and it was all about him. He never did all the things you did. And I certainly didn’t do to him what I did to you.”

  He chuckled. “Things? What things? Be specific.”

  “Can you feel my blush?”

  “Oh, come on. You’re naked, and if you reach a little farther down, you’ll feel me getting hard again. I kissed you everywhere, sucked your beautiful breasts, and I licked up that sweet pussy. I can’t wait to do it all again.”

  She moved her hand to his cock and gripped the steely length, surprised to feel him aroused once more. “Do you ever stop?”

  “Usually, yes. But you do something to me. Look, I’m not going to lie and say I’m a born-again virgin. I like sex. I like women. But Becca, I really, really like you.” He closed his hand over hers, encouraging her to pump him. “I want to be inside you. I love kissing you. And just looking at you makes me happy. I don’t know why, and I’m smart enough not to question it.”

  “That makes one of us,” she murmured.

  He grabbed a condom from the drawer and handed it to her. “Put it on me.”

  She did, amazed to feel herself wanting him again. He caressed her breasts, her ribs, then moved down to her thighs. A hand between her legs proved she was wet and ready for him.

  “Fuck. I love how wet you get.”

  She groaned, in both embarrassment and arousal. “It’s your fault.”

  “Good.” He moved the covers aside and eased her over him. “Ride me. I want to watch your breasts bounce while I’m inside you.”

  She felt her cheeks growing hotter. He was such a sexy, dirty talker. She loved it.

  She positioned herself as directed and let him guide her over him. Watching his face while she lowered herself, taking him deep inside her, made everything right. As if she heard some mystical bell ring inside her, she knew that being with Mitch meant something more.

  “Oh yeah. Up and down. Take me,” he urged, his big hands on her hips.

  She put her hands on his chest for balance and started moving, her pace increasing under his watchful stare.

  “Touch yoursel
f. Pinch your nipples,” he ordered.

  She did and felt him pushing up, harder and faster, both of them striving for completion.

  “I wish I was coming inside you, no condom,” he confessed in a gritty voice as he lifted her up and down.

  She slammed particularly hard and watched him come on a groan. Then he was touching her, and she joined him.

  The ripples of contentment afterward made her sleepy, and she lay down on top of him, their bodies still joined.

  He stroked circles on her back. “Just keeps getting better.”

  “I know.” She fought a yawn. Before she knew it, she fell asleep.

  Hours later, Mitch stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t slept—in a bed—with a woman since Danielle, his last girlfriend. And even then her presence had been intrusive, not welcomed. But ever a gentleman, he hadn’t wanted to have sex then kick her to the curb. Not at first. After two months of her namedropping and trying to use him to advance her modeling career, he’d broken ties.

  Now, with Becca, who wanted nothing from him but pleasure, he felt at peace. A different kind of catharsis. It was far more than sexual, and that baffled him. He hadn’t known her all that long, and they’d only recently grown more involved. But damn if he couldn’t feel her deep inside him, as if she’d always been there.

  Ever since he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d felt something.

  He didn’t want to try to name it. Though Deacon had lied to get Becca to come to the house, Mitch thought his brother might actually be worried about him. Hell, Mitch was worried. He still had no compass to steer his way in this new Life After Football. Though he’d never admit it to anyone, he worried that maybe he had nothing else to offer than his ability to catch and run with a ball.

  How pathetic was he?

  Becca burrowed into his embrace, and he hugged her back, letting go of his tension. The smell of woman and flowers hit him hard, and then her curves pressed into him, reminding him he had a warm, willing woman in his arms.

  He kissed her forehead, and she sighed his name.

  A pang hit him, deep inside, and he wondered what it would be like to have her in his arms every night. She’d smile and tease him. He’d kiss and hug her tight, make love to her, and enjoy every second of it. His imagination stretched further to Simon just down the hall. Teenagers would run around the place, filling it with laughter. Mitch would wake up in the middle of the night to a baby crying, doing his best not to trip over the dog on his way to change a dirty diaper…

  Whoa. A baby?

  He stiffened, then forced himself to relax. The idea of family seemed to go hand-in-hand with the woman he couldn’t stop touching, he thought as he found himself stroking her soft back.

  She had the smoothest, creamiest skin.

  Mitch sighed, done for. When a woman had him thinking about babies and a future, it was time to move on. But he hadn’t gotten his fill of her yet, and fuck if he wanted to let her go anytime soon. It wasn’t as if she’d asked him for anything more than a pleasant time between the sheets.

  And a bit of exclusivity. He smiled, recalling her jealousy. A ferocious little sweetie, his Becca.

  His Becca.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” she murmured and yawned against his chest. Then her clever fingers started moving south, followed by her mouth.

  It didn’t take Mitch long to forget all about his problems and focus instead on Becca’s wondrous ability to use her mouth—and tongue—in all sorts of creative ways…

  ******

  Friday afternoon, after a grueling practice, Simon stared at the closed door of the coach’s office. Most of the kids had already bolted for home, but Simon had asked a few friends, like his buddy, Felix, to stay back.

  “Are you sure?” Felix asked, looking nervous.

  “Yeah. I want to see what he’s made of. Come on. Everyone already knows you’re out of the closet.”

  “Well, maybe. I mean, Coach Deacon doesn’t.”

  “Seriously, man. We all know. You were kissing Scottie Pedersen last week. A dozen of us saw it.”

  “You did?” Felix turned crimson.

  “No one cares.” No one did. Unlike the adults in his mother’s generation and beyond, Simon’s peers only wanted one thing—to win. Gay, straight, white, black, rich, poor. If you could catch and throw a ball, the football team loved you. If you could outthink your opponent, the debate team had to have you on their team. If you scored the highest grade on your stupid SATs, you had your college of choice waiting on you. Life was too short for prejudices. If only the idiot adults making so many rules would wake up and realize it.

  Now to see where Flash stood. Was he a rich jackass? Or a decent guy who just happened to have money? Because if the man had some prejudices, Simon needed to know before he let his mom get in any deeper with the guy.

  Aunt Nora had helped out already, using Coach Deacon to get his mom to Flash’s house. Simon wasn’t sure what had happened between them, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. But his mom had been all smiles for two days now. And Flash had been in a terrific mood.

  Time to shake Flash’s tree once more and see what fell out.

  “Look, Felix, I’ll be right here waiting for you. I swear, he even looks cross-eyed at you, leave the office and come see me. You know he won’t hurt you.”

  Simon knew it took guts to reveal a big secret like Felix’s, and he never would have suggested it except that he hadn’t been lying. Everyone knew the kid was gay. Felix liked to wear makeup to school, and not in any Emo kind of way. He had a feminine manner about him that some kids had poked fun of…before Felix had joined the team. Now one of the Cougars, Felix had nothing but friends. No one messed with him. Didn’t hurt the kid could run like a rabbit either.

  “Wish me luck.” Felix held up a fist.

  Simon bumped it with his own and waited. And prayed Flash couldn’t screw up what could be a great thing.

  Mitch heard a knock and wished to hell his brother would stop leaving him in charge of the team. Dorset or Paglitelli, even Stan would be a better choice. Except all those assholes had deferred to him. Just because he’d played in the NFL didn’t make him a great coach, it made him a great player.

  Then again, he did think of himself as a terrific coach, so maybe they had something there.

  “Come in,” he said in a loud voice when no one had entered.

  The door slowly opened, and one of the sophomores on the team stuck his blue-dyed head in. Tall, lanky, and a little bit strange. A typical high school boy. What was his name? Warren.

  “Hey, Warren. Come on in.”

  The boy looked nervous, his gaze shifting around the room before settling on Mitch. “Ah, actually it’s Felix, coach.”

  “Felix Warren, right?”

  Felix blinked then gave a shy smile. “Oh, yeah.”

  When the kid remained standing, all decked out in his uniform, Mitch motioned to the chair across from the desk. “Have a seat. You wanted something?”

  Felix sat, took a deep breath, then let it out. “I need some advice.”

  God, help me now. But then, that was part of coaching young men. Being there to help them with more than just the game. “Sure. Hit me.”

  “Well, see, I… I’m not sure how to say this.”

  Mitch took pity on the kid, who looked ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “Just spit it out. Think of the coach’s office like a confessional. Unless you killed somebody, what you say stays here.”

  Felix relaxed and stared at Mitch with an intensity Mitch found unnerving. “Um, okay. See, Coach, I’m gay, and I’m not sure how to tell my parents.”

  Mitch was hoping for something more along the lines of dealing with a bully. Trying to ask out the cute girl in class. Even dealing with failing grades. “Ah, okay.” This was deep, and giving the kid bad advice could really hurt him.

  “Do you think I should quit the team?”

  “Huh?”

  “Because I’m gay.”

  “U
nless you’re distracting your teammates by flaunting your ass, I think we’re good.”

  Felix laughed. “Not a worry. I don’t think anyone else is flying my flag.”

  “Right.” So not the conversation Mitch wanted to be having on a Friday night, not when he’d been wracking his brain about what to do about Becca. “Your parents, are they ultra conservative or religious? Do they have prejudices? Do they hate gay people?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Any problems at home right now making things tough?”

  “Well, my sister was trying to get into MIT but didn’t. That was hard. Then she got into Johns Hopkins, so my parents were okay with that.”

  “They’re strict?”

  “About grades, yeah.”

  “Are you getting good grades?”

  Felix nodded. “I help tutor upperclassmen.”

  “That’s good. Sounds like your parents are decent people. Do you worry that they might throw you out if they know you’re gay?”

  “No.”

  Mitch didn’t sense a lot of nerves from the kid anymore. “Do you and your parents have problems talking?”

  “No, we tell each other everything. My mom and dad love me. And they’re pretty cool most of the time.”

  “Then why not just tell them you’re gay? Be honest with them.”

  “Okay.” Felix stood and smiled, then held out his hand. “Thanks, Coach.”

  Mitch stood to shake it, not sure what had just happened. “No problem.”

  “Bye.”

  Felix left. Before Mitch could catch his breath, another boy stood waiting to talk to him.

  “Reynolds?”

  “Yeah, Flash. Can I talk to you?”

  Inwardly, Mitch groaned. Then he wondered what the odds were that he’d be slammed with two personal problems when for weeks no one had asked him anything unless it had to do with football. “What’s up, Reynolds?”

  The boy took the seat Felix had left and leaned forward. “I’ve got a problem and could use some advice.”