Open Lanes

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Open Lanes Page 13

by Mary Morano


  Jessica: … and my college ones.

  I mentally chastise myself for bringing on all these questions. What was I thinking? I shake my head as I try to read the messages that they are sending quicker than I can read them.

  Me: Something might have happened.

  Emma: DETAILS!

  Jessica: How big is it?

  Emma: And was it good?

  Jessica: Does he know how to use it?

  Emma: How far did you get?

  Jessica: How delicious is he without clothes on?

  Me: This group chat was such a bad idea.

  Me: Give me a second and I will tell you.

  Jessica: …

  Emma: We are waiting.

  Me: So, he apologized.

  Jessica: Not the details we want.

  Me: If you don't stop, I'm not giving you any.

  Emma: We’ll be good, just hurry.

  Me: Then we kissed, and he got me off. He would barely let me touch him. He said it was all about me.

  Emma: Swoon.

  Jessica: So you don’t know how big it is?

  Me: Oh, it’s plenty big, and if it’s anything like his fingers, he definitely knows how to use it. Talk soon.

  I laugh as I close out the chat, leaving them both to curse me out. I throw my phone back in my bag on the floor and raise the music to drown out the constant vibrations coming from it. They deserve a little torture after all the crap they give me.

  The drive to Orlando ends up taking less than seven hours because apparently Brayden isn’t a fan of speed limits. It’s a little before two when we pull into the parking lot. We pay the twenty-five-dollar parking fee and are shown to a spot in front of the sign that says Jurassic 5. Being the nervous Nelly that I am, I send him a text with that information. I have heard horror stories of people walking around for hours because they forgot where they parked. That will not happen to us. He pulls out his phone and rolls his eyes.

  “Seriously?” He asks while holding up his phone to show me the message I just sent.

  “Yes, I don’t want to be one of those people driving around on a tram at two in the morning trying to find where we parked your car.” I explain. He laughs at me. Jerk.

  “Baby, I couldn’t forget where we parked if I tried. Jurassic Park was my favorite movie growing up, and my jersey number has been five since I started playing.” I nod, not saying a word because what is there to say? I feel like a shitty person right now. We grew up together and I never knew his favorite movie or that he has always had the same number? I’m starting to see what he means about me never paying any attention to him and it sucks. He knows so much about me, what I like, what I want, what I do, and I barely know the basics about him. Starting right now I’m making it my goal to pay more attention.

  When we get off the tram, he grabs my hand and leads me toward the main gate, pulling his card out to pay the crazy price for the two-day park passes, which will allow us to go back and forth between the parks during our time here. A necessity to properly do the Wizarding World, as it crosses into both parks. When he’s done, I go to step up to purchase mine, and he pulls me aside showing me he already bought both. I frown at him and open my mouth to argue but he cuts me off.

  “Don’t start, I didn’t even pay for them, my parents did.” He’s holding mine out to me. I look at the ticket and then him in confusion. He smiles, urging me to take it. “I may have taken a chance that if I called Mom and told her I wanted to take you here, she would be okay with paying for the tickets so we could afford to do it the right way. Now we can spend our money on souvenirs, food, and all the extras.”

  I groan and look toward the sky. If his Mom knows, then so does mine. I was hoping to keep this from them for a while, at least until we figure it out. They can both be a little... overbearing? Especially when it comes to trying to set us up. I think back to the Prom Fiasco. I had a perfectly wonderful date lined up, and both Brayden’s mother and mine, took every opportunity to inform not only myself and Brayden, but both of our dates too, how the pictures would look so much better if I posed with Brayden and our dates paired off. I believe at one point they even tried to get our dates to give us some time alone to discuss the option—subtle they are not. So now that they think they are finally getting what they want I can only imagine the plans they are making. No wonder I haven’t heard from my mother in a few days, she was probably busy hunting down a priest or something equally crazy—I groan again. I guess now would be a good time to find out exactly what we are? I need time to prepare a response to their inquisition.

  “You do realize that means both our parents know we are something… you know… other than just friends.” I pause and raise an eyebrow at him in question before continuing. “We may arrive home to a full-blown wedding ceremony.”

  He shakes his head but the way his smile fades tells me he knows I’m right. He runs his fingers through his hair as he probably runs the whole scene through his mind before he shakes his head again. “We can deal with that later. For now, my not-so-subtle girlfriend, let’s have some fun.”

  A slow smile spreads across on my face. Girlfriend, huh? I test it out in my mind. Brayden’s girlfriend. Yep, I think I like that. I lean in to give him a kiss, pulling back only when I hear a bunch of little kids yelling “Ew, gross, kissing.” We both laugh as we separate. Then hand-in-hand I walk with my boyfriend to the back of the park to show him the magic that is Harry Potter.

  With money to spare, I convince him that we must do this right. Our first stop is at the wizard wear store for robes and house scarves. I think he thought I was joking when I told him we were going to dress up, but he soon figures out that I wasn’t when he finds himself standing outside the store in a black robe, a Gryffindor scarf, and a pair of glasses that match Harry’s. I also got him to wear a tattoo lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He grumbles that I only had to wear a robe and a scarf, but I quickly remind him that’s because I’m Hermione. Since he probably has no idea who that is, he has nothing else to say. Honestly, he looks hot in his costume. It’s totally unfair. Plus, I’m a tiny bit annoyed when I notice girls staring at him. He must notice me shooting glares at them because he leans over and kisses me right there in the middle of the crowd, and I melt like ice cream on a hot summer day. He chuckles, pulling away while mumbling about us getting arrested for recreating a porno in the middle of an amusement park, and asks me what's next. I point him in the direction of the wand shop. He shakes his head, and leads me by our clasped hands, while I find myself wondering if he would be up for a little role playing in the bedroom.

  Brayden walks toward the entrance to the wand store but I pull on our joined hands, leading him to the next door where we will get to see the show about a wand picking its wizard. As we enter, they are calling a group for the next show, and we trail along behind them into the room. The actor who is dressed up like the famous wand maker, calls us forward, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing directly on the six-foot two-inch Harry replica standing next to me. I unsuccessfully try to hold in my laughter as Brayden’s face pales when the actor calls him forward. His eyes catch mine and I usher him forward. He mumbles something under his breath about how they should be picking kids before rolling his eyes and sighing. With one last look at me, he walks forward to join the wand maker on the wooden staircase. In the back of my mind, I say a silent prayer that the rickety thing can withstand his muscular body.

  The show turns out to be spectacular, even Brayden says so. Afterward he gets to purchase the wand that chose him, and I pick a Hermione’s wand, because duh. We also grab a map that shows us all the places our wands can create magic, and with a Butterbeer in our hands we make our way around the area. We laugh and joke around as ghosts appear in mirrors and water rains down around us. We even have someone take our picture, so it looks like we were battling the dragon that sits on top of the bank. For dinner, we grab food from Three Broomsticks restaurant, and find a spot to sit down and watch the Triwizard dance show befor
e going on a few rides. When we are finished with this side of the park, we hop on the train and head over to the other park which houses the Hogwarts section of the Wizarding World. There we enjoy some more rides and end up taking a picture kissing in front of the castle when it lights up for the night. It boggles my mind that people would even think to get a picture in front of Cinderella’s Castle when this one is right down the road.

  Before the park closes, we find a spot on a bench outside of the park. With his arm around me, he pulls me close, and we watch as the fireworks explode over the lake that sits between the two parks. It is absolutely magical. The whole day has been. Now, nothing besides us matters.

  My thoughts swirl around in my head as I play devil's advocate in my own head. Am I sure this is real? Yes, without a doubt. What if I’m wrong? Then I deal with the consequences, but at least I don’t have to wonder about the what ifs for the rest of my life. What about all those other girls always vying for his attention? They don’t matter and they never would. I trust him to not hurt me again. I trust him to be honest and open with me. I trust that everything he has said to me this week is the truth.

  Decision made; I do the only thing left to do. I lean in further, brushing my lips against his ear and say the only thing that could possibly make this day better.

  “Take me to bed.” I whisper. He pulls back, shock shining clear on his face as he looks into my eyes for confirmation. His eyes shine with mischief and a slow dirty grin spreads across his face, before he grabs for my hand and tugs me toward the parking lot. When I’m not moving fast enough for him, he picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and runs toward the trams that will bring us to the car, as I laugh hysterically.

  I continue laughing all the way to the car, not stopping until I open the passenger door. The scent of Eau De Hockey Player that has baked in the hot Florida sun all day hits us in the face. Honestly, either I had gotten used to it, or it hadn’t been as bad the last few days because I had forgotten about it until this very moment. And… wow… was it making up for lost time. I step back to get out of the line of fire, prepared to wait it out.

  Brayden has other plans though, with his quick thinking he opens the trunk and moves some bags aside, coming back with a bottle of Febreze. He then proceeds to empty what’s left of the bottle into the car. It doesn’t totally rid the car of the scent, but it makes it bearable enough to travel the short distance to the hotel. Sharing a smile, we get in and hightail it out of the parking lot.

  The drive back to the room is full of anxiety. It feels like I have a swarm of bees trying to find a way out of my stomach. Don’t get me wrong, I want this. I want it with him, but now that it’s about to happen. A whole new set of what-ifs are popping into my head. What if we have sex and it changes things again? What if it isn’t good? What if he sees me naked and gets turned off? Realistically I know that he was just turned on by my body a few days ago but anxiety is a bitch with no common sense. I am not one of those model type girls that I’m sure he is used to. He was basically a celebrity on campus and could have his pick of girls. I am more of a carb loving, exercise-phobic type of girl. I am not fat by any means, but I also won’t be featured in a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition anytime soon. What if I can’t compare to them?

  I’m really not sure why I’m panicking like this. It’s not like I’m a virgin, I’d lost my virginity at sixteen. I’ve had sex with a few different guys before. Never had I felt like this. Part of me understood that this time would be a lot different than the ones before. While my first time was decent and obviously something important, it wasn’t necessarily life changing. This time—with Brayden—would be, one way or another. I know in my heart that this will make or break the connection that has been burning between us. And that right there? That scares the hell out of me.

  He holds my hand the whole way back except for the few minutes it takes him to run into the gas station to grab condoms. I can’t help but laugh at the grin on his face when he gets back in and hands me a black and gold box of 36 condoms.

  “Ambitious, aren’t you?” I giggle while holding up the box.

  “I’m a college athlete for a reason, love. I believe in myself and work harder than all the rest. And I never turn down a challenge.” He says with a wink and a nod at the jumbo size box of condoms. The teasing helps to ease some of the anxiety coursing through me. This is Brayden. The boy who used to chase crickets around with me and make mud pies. Yes, we veered off the path for a few years, but looking back he was always around, protecting me and watching out for me in his own weird way. Brayden was part of every significant event in my life. Now that I think about it, maybe our parents weren’t too far off the mark all those years, maybe they saw something we didn’t yet. It seems like this was almost inevitable. A connection, which was just waiting for us to give into it. Not that I would ever admit that to them.

  His hand squeezes mine, drawing my attention to him. I realize we’re now sitting in the parking lot in front of the hotel. I had been so stuck in my thoughts; I didn’t even realize he had turned the car off.

  “Hey,” he whispers. “Nothing about what I said before changes. Yes, I want to bury myself deep inside of you and never let you go. But you still make all the decisions in this scenario. You have the final say. You say no, we go upstairs, throw on a movie and cuddle. You understand?” His eyes beg me to see the truth. He means every word of what he says, he will be fine if all we do is watch a movie, uncomfortable I’m sure, but fine. And that makes up my mind. I have nothing to worry about when it comes to Brayden. He won’t hurt me again; in fact, I believe that he never meant to hurt me in the first place. He’s in this for the long run, and so am I.

  With a smile, I pick up the box of condoms, lean over and give him a soft kiss before getting out of the car. Before I shut the door behind me, I lean back in and whisper, “First one to the room gets to take the other’s clothes off.” Then I slam the door and run. I barely even make it to the entrance before I’m once again thrown over his shoulder, laughing, as he carries me up to the room before depositing me on the bed.

  “Cheater.” I tell him with my hands on my hips.

  “Get used to it, baby, I always win.” He tells me as he walks around the room, arms in the air in victory, while he fakes the sound of a crowd cheering him on. I roll my eyes trying to hide the smile. He may think he won, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be the ultimate winner tonight. Deciding to get this show on the road, I slip off my pants and pull my shirt over my head.

  He doesn’t notice at first, as he’s still cheering himself on by the door. Taking the shirt in my hand I spin it around like a lasso, and then release it. He stops immediately when my shirt hits him in the head. Turning toward me, his eyes widen when he sees me laying on the bed in only my pink bra and matching underwear. Lust fills his green eyes, making them darker, as he stalks toward the bed, crawling over me.

  “That was supposed to be my prize to unwrap.” He tells me, as he nips at my lips.

  “You were taking too long.”

  He lifts his body off of me, as he allows his eyes to caress each and every one of my curves. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows roughly, before his eyes meet mine again.

  “Fuck, Nic. I have imagined this so many times over the years, in every different way possible, but my imagination couldn’t even get close to the reality. You are fucking gorgeous. I want to lick, bite, and taste every inch of you.” He tells me as his lips trail a path down my throat. He takes his time, making sure to hit every sensitive spot I never even knew I had. Wetness floods my core, the scent of arousal filling the air as he continues his slow assault down my body with me watching. “You know I heard you? I heard you in the shower and the other time in bed. I was so hard, listening to all the sexy sounds you made. I wanted to join you so bad. I wanted you to make those noises while I touched you. I want you to make them for me now.”

  He moves to my breasts, his hands cupping them, rubbing over the
top of my bra. I have no chance to be embarrassed at what he just said. I probably should be, he heard me getting off thinking of him, but with his hands and mouth on me, I can’t find it in myself to care.

  “I heard you too. In the shower. It was so hot. I hoped you were thinking about me while you were doing it.” His eyes glisten in surprise before he lets out a low mumble of approval.

  “You’re always who I’m thinking about.”

  His hands move to the straps of my bra, pulling them down my arms. Then to the back to unclasp it. He pauses there, looking back at me for approval, so I nod. The smile that graces his face makes me think of a young child on Christmas morning. I like that he stopped to check with me, that he respects me enough to give me the option to say no. Even though my body is giving him a green light, him stopping to confirm has any lingering nerves slipping away completely. His eyes stay on mine for another second as he pulls the cups off, his hands find my nipples, and then his eyes follow. His mouth comes down to tease them with his tongue, and I arch up to meet him, moaning in pleasure. He sucks, and pulls on them, twisting his tongue around, before biting gently, then kissing away the sting. Holy hell. Who knew this would feel so good? I never understood why the girls in my books went crazy over this, now I do. The boys in my past really should have stepped up their games. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same care and attention, then back again, and again, until I’m begging him for more.

  “Please…”

  “Shh… I got you baby, but we are doing this my way.” He whispers, as he begins kissing down my stomach. His tongue leaves a cool trail as the air hits it. He moves further down to my panty line, and stops, once again looking up for permission that I eagerly give him. His fingers hook on the edge of my pink thong, and he slowly—oh so torturously slow—pulls them down my legs. Then he grabs my right leg, kissing his way back up, when he gets to my center he skips over where I want him most, and I almost scream in frustration. He chuckles at me, then grabs my left leg, repeating the process. Finally, he gets back to my embarrassingly wet center, and uses his fingers to open me up for him. His breath over my clit is driving me wild, and I’m quite sure I am going to come the minute he touches me—I’m that worked up.

 

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