Love's Learning Curve
Page 16
“I was going to ask you the same. I have nothing planned except for a new book release that downloaded on my Kindle app and is waiting to be read.” She shrugs. I put her into my truck and feel the arm between my legs twitch to life when I wrap the seat belt around her.
Well ... look at that. You’ve woken up and do like women. I was right. My cock has become selective, and buttercup is the only flavor of interest. I approve.
I walk around to the driver’s side and hop in the truck. I quickly start the engine, anxious to get out of here. “I have no plans except to be where you are for the duration of the evening until you are ready to go back to your place and sleep.” I pause, thinking. But I can’t really take her out anywhere until I’ve showered. I usually shower in the locker room after the game, but I was in a little bit of a rush tonight for a specific reason. And she made it worth my while the second she was in my arms.
“You choose what sounds interesting. I’ll do whatever you want, but I need to run home and shower really quick. It’ll take me no more than ten minutes if that’s okay?” I ask, hoping she wouldn’t be uncomfortable with me alone in the house.
“Aren’t you tired?” It’s a simple question, but the effects it has on me are more. “What do you normally do after a game?” she asks, not showing any signs of concern about me getting naked with her in another room. That gives me hope, even though I’ll have to take a couple of extra minutes to deal with my throbbing cock in the shower. I can’t have her within touching distance for the evening without wanting to bend her over the couch if I don’t do something about the issue.
Shit. She had asked a question before my plans to paint the wall of my shower with my swimmers sidetracked me. “Honestly, I don’t go out after games. I go home, sit on my couch, and order pizza. But I don’t normally have company to entertain. Let’s go out for pizza then I won’t break tradition.” Glancing at her, I hope she sees how much I appreciate her being with me.
“I’m okay with sticking with your routine. We could rent a movie and order pizza if you don’t mind the company?” she asks shyly. I briefly contemplate the advantages and disadvantages of having her in my house for the evening with the advantages being all of it, but the disadvantages being all of it as well. I agree to it anyway, happy to have her to myself with minimal distractions except probably a chick flick. With any real luck, my TV will be broken or, better yet, someone will have stolen it, and I’ll have her eyes on me all evening. One can hope, but shit … it might kill me to keep my hands off her.
We pull into the parking lot in front of the townhouse. I’m lucky enough to live alone. I had a roommate for a short time during the beginning of my college career. He was a teammate. He was really good too but made some shitty decisions and ended up getting kicked off the team during spring training for using performance-enhancing drugs. It was the biggest mistake of his life. Competition does funny things to people. I never got a new roommate after that. Instead, I chose to supplement the rental payment on my own. I like my privacy, and I hate change.
I jump down out of the truck and watch as Charlie unbuckles herself and slides across the bench to me. Her mischievous little grin highlights my weakness and the power she has on me. I don’t step back to give her space to get out of the truck. When she’s at the edge of the seat with her legs hanging partially out the door, I step closer between her thighs and allow myself to take advantage of the urge I’ve been resisting since I heard her voice in the crowds. I wrap my arms around her and finally kiss her like she needs to be kissed. I kiss her to show my appreciation for coming to watch the game, but more for being here with me now.
Feeling the softness of her lips ignites a fire between us that could quickly get out of hand. I know the dangers of our connection. The sparks ignite quickly. Her mouth opens a little wider giving me entrance to properly show her just how thankful I am. She’s definitely my drug. God, I want more of this; I want more of her.
The soft whimper that escapes her puts my brakes on the situation like you’ve never seen. I could explode in my pants. I stop right away knowing I can’t push her too far no matter how many little moans and whimpers she awards me with, but I don’t want to reject her. I pull her into me, sliding her out of the truck knowing she’ll feel the rock between my legs, but that’s unavoidable without making her feel like she’s done something wrong after I abruptly pulled away from the kiss.
I run my cheek along the side of her neck absorbing the softness. “Buttercup, not here. Not now. I don’t want things to get out of hand,” I mutter into her ear. She shakes her head with slow easy movements, nuzzling her neck closer to my mouth. She disagrees as she tightens her grip on me, and it’s killing me.
As hard as it is, I pull myself away and lead her to the door. I make quick work of the lock and walk in with her hand in mine. She looks around curiously, but I don’t detect a hint of her nervousness, which is a relief. I give her a quick tour of the downstairs finishing in the kitchen where I pull out the menu of my favorite Italian restaurant and pass it to her to choose what she’d like.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She shrugs. I guide her to the couch and gesture for her to sit down. When I press the power button on the remote, and the TV and sound come to life, I curse the bad luck of reliable electronics. I show her how to find the onDemand movies and tell her to choose one while I run upstairs to shower and place our dinner order.
I walk away toward the stairs, pulling the shirt over my head at the foot of the stairs. I’m anxious to take care of business so I can get back to her as quickly as possible. I glance over my shoulder with my shirt in my hand and see her adorably curled comfortably into the corner of my leather sofa fully engaged in studying her movie options on the screen. My heart rate spikes causing me to rush back to her for one more kiss. Her touch calms me.
Her eyes wander over my shirtless chest as I approach. I stand in front of her blocking her view of the movie options. She drops the remote into her lap and stares up at me with perfect eye contact from her sitting position. “Like what you see, buttercup?”
She nods. “You’re beautiful, Ty, but you’re more than a gorgeous body. I see you … all of you.” I drop to my knees on the floor in front of her. With my hand on the back of her neck, I pull her head to my own resting my forehead on hers so that I can look into the jewels of her eyes. I don’t kiss her. This connection is enough. She sees me. And fuck me, I believe her.
I’ll never be able to hide from her anymore, and if I did, any attempts would fail. I know that now, but learning to understand and accept all that she is and has to offer is something I’ll look forward to studying up on. “This … whatever is happening between us, it’s a learning curve for me too,” I say quietly. “I know these are new experiences for you. I don’t want you to ever be uncomfortable. We’ll go at your pace, and I’ll stay in line,” I assure her.
She reaches out with her hands bringing them to each side of my torso. Her touch is soft but intentional. Against all better judgment on my part, I allow her to press her lips to mine in a kiss she initiates on her own. I will myself to keep it together and not allow either of us to push things faster than she’s ready. I need to take this slow for both of us. I can’t hurt her.
I’m so comfortable wrapped up in the Red Sox blanket that was folded on the couch. I’m cuddled next to him on the sofa with my back resting against his chest and his strong arms around me. His hold on me is so snug I’m pretty sure I will never want to get up. I love the way his fingers softly run along my arms.
The end of the movie is coming soon. I tried to choose a movie that wasn’t too girly and had some action for him as well, so I chose Warm Bodies. The parts that I’ve seen of it have been cute, but we’ve been a little distracted, so I missed some big chunks. It was apparent Ty didn’t appreciate my movie choice with the symphony of groans and sighs I’ve heard from him at all the cheesy parts.
I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen next since my attem
pts to further things beyond kissing have faltered many times. He wants more as much as I do, but he keeps stopping me. My concentration is on his every move, every breath, and every touch. I’m all worked up, and I want to get his attention in the right place. I need to show him I’m not fragile, and he doesn’t need to handle me with kid gloves. Pushing me away gently is still pushing me away. As sweet as it is that he’s trying to go slow for me, if he tells me to slow down one more time, I’m going to kill him.
When the credits appear across the screen, I sit up casually and stretch my arms above my head before turning and climbing into his lap to straddle him. With my legs resting on either side of his, I take his face into my hands and look him directly in the eyes before I rest my forehead on his just like he does me. “Can I kiss you now, Mr. Hotshot baseball boy?”
I make the first move as our lips engage. My hands roam his shirt-covered chest, and now that I know what’s under this shirt and the smoothness of his skin with hard muscles behind it, I want to feel it. I find the hem of his shirt and feed my hands under it to feel his chest. “I just want to feel you. I want to be closer. Please don’t push me away again,” I beg between the intensity of our quickly escalating kiss.
The growl that escapes him tells me I may have just scored. In seconds, he’s gently flipped me onto my back on the couch. The feel of the cold leather on my sleeveless arms sends a shiver of goose bumps over me. Ty is hovering with his arms planted on either side of my head, watching me closely while contemplating. I don’t want him to think anymore. I want this.
I find the hem of his shirt and push it up again, my hands tracing the muscles up his back to his shoulders. I want him to kiss me. I need him to want this kiss and not resist it. I maintain eye contact with his deep, concentrated stare. “Please?” I ask again, and that’s all it takes.
He gives in at that moment, and our mouths connect as his body blankets me. He braces some of his body weight on his forearm and his fingers of that hand lace into my hair tightly. The connection is vibrant and, unlike the previous times, he’s not holding back. I feel the movements of his rushed breaths through my tank top leaving my nipples to harden beneath the lace constraints of my bra. His hand makes contact with my skin around my waist and plots the course up my midsection. His mouth leaves mine, but without separation as his lips move to my neck and across my collarbone.
“Charlie, please take the reins, baby. I don’t want to fuck this up by moving too fast. Tell me to stop.” More trailing kisses and nips grace the path taken by his mouth as his husky voice begs for assurances. “Tell me to slow down. Tell me that taking your clothes off is a bad idea.”
I hear his plea for approval. I feel the tension in his body as he fights against what he thinks I need versus what I’m asking for. Every part of my body hums with his touch, and I couldn’t tell him any of those things. The blood pumping through me at a swift pace elevates my pulse, and I can feel the hasty beat at every point. The sound of my heart pumping wildly isn’t alarming me. I’m not scared. I want this. “Ty, please. I’m begging. Touch me, ” I sigh.
I’m quickly pulled off the couch and lifted in his arms. My legs wrap around his waist and arms around his neck as he walks in the direction of the stairs quietly. No words are spoken as he climbs the levels. The only sound comes from his paced steps and the gentle kisses he lays on my shoulder.
In the hallway at the top of the stairs, I see with a quick glance a vast open space with a pool table and manly-decorated space of the part of his home he never offered a tour, but little do I care now. We reach the door to his bedroom, and he strides quickly across the room before laying me on his bed. I push myself up further onto his bed leaving ample room for him to follow, but the struggle on his face is evident.
I sit up reaching for his hands that are hanging loosely at his side. I grasp his fingers pulling him toward me, and he follows, crawling up the bed to meet me. Before lying back down in the position he left me, I reach down to grab the hem of my flowing tank top and pull it over my head before tossing it at him. I see the fire in his eyes when my top lands on his shoulder. He tracks my movements with the ferocity of a wild animal as I lie back and wait for him. He’s every bit the hunter and I’ve become his prey.
He watches his hands as they explore my upper body carefully avoiding my breasts. “You’re incredible, Charlie,” he compliments. My body is on fire, and I ache for more of his touch. I feel the warmth coating me at the apex of my thighs.
His fingertips trace the edges of my teal lace bra, and his eyes meet mine looking for approval. He has it. I close my eyes briefly as his fingers explore further meeting the center of the globe as it pebbles under his touch. I moan softly as my body responds. My clothed hips flex up instinctively, as he moves up next to me. I’m so engrossed in the moment that I can’t control my movements or approving whimpers as he removes my bra and his tongue and mouth work over my pebbling nips before coming back to my mouth.
My hands roam his abs once again, and in a brave moment, I gravitate to the protruding length struggling behind his jean clad lower body. I trace the hardness with my palm rubbing as he thrusts it into my thigh. He’s so hot, and the things he’s doing to my body right now are leaving me desperate for more.
I find the button at the waist of his pants and flip it with my fingers. I move my hand into the waist of his pants while his hands and mouth explore every inch of my unclothed top. When I wrap my hand around his hardness, he groans and pulls himself away. My frustration level hits maximum.
“Tyler, if you don’t want to do this with me, just say it. I know I’m not what you’re used to, and I can’t change that or make myself good enough for you. I am who I am,” she spits out abruptly; her face flushes, and her eyes crease with evident frustration. When she sits up and pulls the blanket up to shield her body from my view, my fingers throb to pull it away.
I’m shaking my head back and forth before she can even finish the statement. I knew bringing her here tonight would tempt any self-control I had left where she was concerned. I DO fucking want HER. It should be pretty evident considering I can’t rein myself in.
Kneeling on my bed with her half-naked body just inches from me, I hate that she’s shielded herself from me. I feel like a green-eyed monster wanting to rip that thing touching her to shreds. But my anger is isolated mostly to myself. I did this. I allowed things to get out of control and worst of all, by denying her, I’ve made her doubt her worth.
My biggest fear is that she’ll do something she’s not ready for because she thinks I expect it. The last thing I’d ever want is for her to regret any important moment between us. I can’t risk that, and I can’t risk that, because I can’t risk losing her.
“Charlotte, look at me. Does this look like a man who’s not interested? My physical NEED for YOU burns so damn hot that I can’t even think straight. I lose every ounce of control in my body when you’re near me. It’s me that isn’t good enough for you, baby. I’m not stopping you because I don’t want you. I’m stopping you because you’re too important to me to rush this.” I wait for her to respond, but she doesn’t. She turns her face from me looking sad and ashamed.
Emotions and hormones are raging through the room. I could sink my cock into her tonight, and I guarantee even that won’t be enough. There’s more here between us than just sex, and as much as I want to share that with her, I won’t push. I won’t allow her to sacrifice her choice to wait with expectations she’s convinced herself that I must have.
“Buttercup, listen … I just want us to take this slow. I don’t want you to have regrets about anything with us, but especially this. I can wait until you’re ready,” I plead, in hopes of reasoning with her, but the expression on her face tells me that was not accomplished.
Fiesty Charlie is here. And my cock grows harder than I ever thought possible when I see her huff out a deep breath and drop the blanket to point her finger at me as she speaks to me authoritatively.
“No, TYLE
R. You listen. I’ve all but thrown myself at you tonight, and every time I turn around, you push me away.” She moves to get off the bed. “Fine. You’re interested, but you’re not. It doesn’t make any sense. I knew Saturday night at the fair you were special. Even when we were apart this week, I knew you were different. I think about you more than I should probably ever admit. I’ve thought about this from almost the moment I met you at the party. I knew you’d be my first if I ever had the chance. Not because I’m a perv, but because my body sings when I’m near you. Who are you to decide I’m not ready? I gotta be honest, hotshot, the only thing I wasn’t ready for tonight is what’s happening right now—your rejection. You said ‘Let’s make some more happy memories’ on Saturday night. I wanted this to be one of those for both of us, but I guess I was wrong. Just for the record, though, I wanted this, and I wanted it with no expectations for what the future holds. So I’d like to go home now, please.”
She grabs her bra from the corner of the bed, but before she can put it back on, I push her back down to the bed and toss the flimsy lace over my shoulder and across the room. I straddle her, careful to brace my weight and pin her hands under my own above her head so that I can talk to her without her trying to escape.
I smile when I look at her face; it’s red and flushed from her lingering anger as well as her arousal. She’s so damn hot when she puts me in my place. I knew she was tough somewhere in there, and I’ll never doubt that or underestimate it again. I’m even more turned on now, so if she thinks I’ll willingly let her leave after admitting that she’s been thinking about me and us, she’s mistaken.
“No, sweetness, you’re not going anywhere. You want to be here, and I sure as fuck want you here. I’m sorry I underestimated you and made the decision you weren’t ready. You’re right; that was wrong. You’re right about a few things you just said in that grand declaration, actually, but we don’t have time to discuss all that right now. You just told me your body sings, which is great news, because I always wanted to try my hand at conducting.”