Love's Learning Curve

by Felicia Lynn

  Our mouths connect with a furious need to devour each other. The restraint I was holding on to falls away fast. I won’t hold back anymore, even though I couldn’t have done it if I tried anyway. She’s obviously thought about this more than I gave her credit for. I just have to trust that she’s ready. I know I’m more than damn ready to make some music with her.

  “Do you feel that?” I growl, pressing my jean-covered crotch to her center. The soft moan that escapes is almost more than I can handle. She naturally folds to her back and opens her body for me as I move down every flawless inch of her, my mouth desperate to taste her.

  “I want you more than I want to breathe right now.” Peppering her body with kisses, my words are muffled. “I’ve wanted this from the first moment I saw you, and it wasn’t at the party. Call it whatever the hell you want, but you, Charlotte, consumed me the second I looked into those gems you call eyes.” I look up her body to the eyes staring back at me past the two perfect mounds on her chest. I brace my weight on my elbows and massage the tips in each hand. “Captivated. Struck. Hypnotized. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. I don’t want to fuck this up because I’m spellbound to some sort of witchcraft. Not a single part of me doesn’t want more of you—more from you – all of you. You’re my game changer.” I don’t give her any time to respond or question. My tongue finds her pebbled buds, and I alternate and worship each with my mouth. The little nips and tugs have her purring. Her fingers thread through my hair. Lost in the passion, she firmly massages and tugs. I move further south.

  I flip the button on her shorts then push them down her legs in one quick movement leaving her body bare to me except for her thin white lace panties. Nothing could ever be more mouthwatering than seeing her like this. Faint pink markings sprinkle her body from my light nibbles.

  I trace the edge of the fabric. My fingers slide beneath the lace and find her folds. Her hips shift up instinctively, and her eyes close softly as she embraces the pleasure my hands give her. I graze softly over her clit before parting the folds and sinking into the wetness.

  I want to taste her, but I’m not ready to take my eyes off her. Her hips rock in motion with my finger. Carefully, I slowly add a second finger, stretching her tightness. Her walls squeeze my fingers, and I know she’s close.

  Situating myself between her legs, I watch her fuck my two fingers. I push them into her deeper and flick them together. Her hips arch off the bed, and I hold her steady. I pull the lace aside and finally feed my craving to taste her.

  As my tongue flicks across her clit, I hear chanting. “Oh, my God … oh, my God. Ty, that feels so good. Oh, my Goooooddddddd …” as my tongue to flicks across her clit. Within seconds, she falls apart.

  I trace my tongue through her folds to her clit while my fingers work inside her walls, and she succumbs to the orgasm crashing over her. She’s incredible. Watching her spiral into a sea of pleasure was enough to make me come on myself.

  I climb up her body trailing kisses all the way up waiting for her to come back to earth. When I’m hovering above her waiting to see the jewels of her eyes, the smile appears first followed by sedated half-open eyes.

  “You okay, beautiful?” I ask. She pulls her bottom lip in, and bites lightly, and slowly nods her head showing me the sign that she’s nervous. “Charlie, we don’t have to rush things, if you’re concerned about what’s coming next. Holding you now in my bed is plenty enough for me,” I tell her, hoping to be convincing since it’s true. Holding her after giving her that along with knowing she chose me to be the first is not only enough but also something I want to do. I’m just hoping the erection between us isn’t a problem for her to coexist with because after that and having her almost naked in my arms, it’s here to stay.

  “Ty.” Her voice is soft, almost too soft to even hear, but her eyes are wide open and any apprehension that was visible seconds ago is gone. “I want you. Please, don’t push me away again. Not after that.” She rests her forehead on mine as she pleads. Caressing her body, I smile wickedly.

  “I couldn’t reject you even if I wanted to right now, buttercup.”

  “You okay, beautiful?” he asks, and I nod not sure what to say. I’m a little embarrassed with how intimate that was. I’m not a prude. I knew that was a thing, but knowledge and understanding are very different things; experiencing it, understanding, and allowing myself to be open and vulnerable with him have changed me.

  “Charlie, we don’t have to rush things, if you’re concerned about what’s coming next. Holding you now in my bed is plenty enough for me,”

  My entire body still tingles. I’ve never felt anything like that. It was an all-consuming pleasure with no ability for self-control. My body still aches with a need to be close to him—to lose more of myself, every part of myself, in him. It was over too fast, and I’m not ready to stop. Even though I’m a little nervous, it’s not about having sex. I just want to be enough for him. I want this to mean something to him and not be just another notch on his belt. But even if that’s all this will ever be to him, I still want it because, to me, it matters. He does mean something to me, and that’s special enough to make it all worth it.

  “Ty.” I look at him searching for the words to convince him not to stop. Not now. I’ll beg if it comes to that, but it’ll take away some of the magic I feel. I need him to want me as much as I need him and have us take this plunge together with equal desire. “I want you. Please, don’t push me away again. Not after that.” Our foreheads touch, never losing eye contact. His fingers delicately trace all my curves.

  Having his full attention on me, worshipping my body, makes me feel cherished. With almost zero hesitation, he smiles.

  “I couldn’t reject you even if I wanted to right now, buttercup.” With the speed of a fox, he stealthily moves to my panties, damp from my climax. Pushing them off my body and down my legs in fluid motion, he flings them across the room in the same direction my bra went earlier.

  Once I’m completely bare to him, he backs off the side of the bed. Standing, he briskly removes his jeans and boxer briefs, never moving his eyes from me. Once again, I’m his prey. The hunger I see in his eyes radiates through his posture. He stands stone solid, with his back straight, shoulders back, and feet planted strongly, displaying the ridges of every perfect muscle in his body. My eyes fall to his hardened shaft. Even after touching it briefly before, it’s much larger than I expected, leaving me to understand why the first time could be more painful for some women. Considering the rewards and his ability to charm my body into a burst of pleasure, I feel a little pain is a bargain.

  My eyes wander his body, cataloging each feature and wanting to memorize the moment. When my sight returns to his face, the urgency of his need to claim has hit the crest. His wide eyes fixate on mine begging for acceptance. He stays anchored and unmoving until the second our eyes connect moving to tear the foil packet and shield himself.

  He moves toward me with intention, and his touch registers with my body igniting the fire between us. Our mouths devour each other, and his hardened body blankets mine. When I feel the tip of his shaft kiss my entrance, my eyes open finding his staring back into mine.

  “Charlotte, I have very little control where you’re concerned. I need you to tell me to stop if it’s too much or you change your mind. Promise me. Don’t let me fuck this up.” His voice strains as he pleads, but the worry in his glance shows me the value of this moment to him.

  My arms lace around to his back, and I stroke the ridges of his solid muscles. “I’m ready for you, Tyler. I chose to experience this moment with you for a good reason. Prove me right, please.” His eyes flash just before our lips touch. Our gaze stays connected as his shaft begins sliding into my folds.

  His pace is wary and that only amplifies the burn. I expected more pain, but I have a feeling it’s his tender touch that has eased that for me. Now all I feel is full. Once he’s seated fully inside me, the feeling intensifies, chasing away the lingering sting a
nd amping up my need for more. I’m eager for movement; I need it. With a low moan, I wiggle my hips to encourage him to give me what my body needs.

  My eyes close absorbing the pleasure as his do the same as he submits to the desire and pumps inside my walls steadily. We lose ourselves in each other, partnering to please the other. My body swirls with a climax near, every nerve ending alert. I try to silence the whimper of bliss, but I can’t. I’m so close to the edge.

  He nips the corner of my ear. His voice is strained but sexy. “I’m close, Charlotte. God, buttercup, I’m close. I know you’re right there with me. I can feel you clenching my cock. Let go for me, baby, let go and give me all of you.”

  He accelerates his stroke, pumping with more force than before. I fall apart around him, mumbling an incoherent string of words as he does the same.

  It took a lot more convincing than I ever thought it would to get Charlie to spend the night. Waking up to her sleeping head resting on my chest and her body curled into me makes it all worth the effort. We have a later start for practice today, and I have no classes. As much as I’ve tried to convince myself not to wake her, I know she does have class today. It was her reason for feeling like she shouldn’t stay last night, even though we both knew it was too soon to be separated for even a few minutes.

  Sex is not new to me, and it’s always come easily. Nothing I’ve felt physically with any others could ever equate to the force of emotions that Charlie somehow has power-driven into me.

  I feel things differently with her.

  The non-negotiating urges leave me powerless.

  My desires are no longer singularly selfish.

  My passion, dreams, and goals are reconciled and recreated for a party of two.

  I laid my eyes on her for the first time eleven days ago. I’d love to convince myself I wasn’t attached from that very second and things fell into place naturally, but that’d be a lie. Charlie is different. With her, something just clicked.

  With every other chick I’ve crossed paths with, I had a choice of whether to pursue her or pass. I’ve never felt out of control until the beauty in my arms stomped her way into my world and made her presence known.

  From that point, my perspective changed and I’m not sure what the implications of that will be yet. What I do know is I’m more willing to encounter the possibility of consequences with her by my side than I am to run scared from her. She consumes so much of me that the idea of running seems futile.

  What we have found together and with each other may not be forever, but she is for right now. But if I do end up with luck on my side, and her forever, I’ll make sure I do everything in my power to keep her.

  Years ago, my luck turned from the worst of the worst to the best. I can’t be sure Charlie is part of the streak of luck, or if we just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I’ll take what I can get and savor every second.

  Softly, I run the backs of my fingers across her cheek trying to wake her ever so damn slowly. Leaving this bed may kill me, and since she informed me last night that she’s busy for the next few days and I won’t be seeing her, I’ll soak up the time while she’s here.

  I’m pissed at the world for no other reason than I can be. And Bobby, being the jokester he is, thought today would be a good day to fuck with me. I warned him more times than I can count, and I thought he’d gotten the message when I purposely threw a drive for his head. He dodged it falling to the ground like a little pussy instead of trying to catch it, even though he had a glove on his hand.

  His comments progressively escalated after that. It sucks that my advisor and soon-to-be agent, Scott, was sitting in the stands to watch my practice today and witnessed everything.

  I’m supposed to go to dinner with him tonight and discuss business unofficially. Since he can’t actually represent me until I sign, he acts as my advisor, my sounding board, and is someone who can offer some knowledge on the business. Scott found Coach Jacobs in my senior year of high school. Many agents approached Jacobs in the early days, but Jacobs said he wouldn’t let me settle for anyone but the best, and Scott was definitely the best.

  Looks like Jacobs was right and I’ll have to call him later to give him the news. The early draft speculations came out, and it looks like I may be one of the top five prospects. Good news. I should be floating on cloud fucking nine, but I’m not. Not yet anyway.

  I look over my shoulder shooting Bobby a glare warning him to be careful as we walk into the dugout to pack up our gear. He’s pushing for a fight that won’t be in his favor. This shit is on him. But no matter where the fault lays, I’ll go down for my actions with him, so I’m just trying to get the hell out of dodge before things go further south.

  He doesn’t take my offered warning and starts spewing his shit again. “Dude, I was just trying to throw you a bone and give you some advice. Apparently, that bitch has a tighter hold on your panties than I realized. I’ll try to be more gen …” My vision blurs, and I turn to launch at him.

  His body is pressed up against the painted cinder block wall of the dugout with my fingers spread grasping tight around his neck before he can finish the sentence. No way can I pretend I didn’t hear that shit. His airway closes unforgivingly under the pressure of my hold.

  “If you want to ever take another fucking breath again, you’ll carefully consider, remember, and take FUCKING heed to my words to you right now. DO NOT EVER speak of her that way again. As a matter of fact, just DON’T EVER speak of her at all. Are we clear?” I growl, fueled with rage, my free arm is pulled back ready to drive the hit of my closed fist to his face, my throwing arm.

  I hear Scott yelling and the others coming our way with raised voices, but I don’t have any clue what they’re saying, and I don’t really care, to be honest. I continue my hold focusing more importantly on getting this bastard in my grip to agree to the terms I’ve offered, but he hasn’t. His face is shading to a blueish color, and he’s lost the strength to fight back. It’d be real good for him to agree with me right now so we can move on.

  It takes an army of octopuses to pull me off him. I swear I feel ninety-six arms yanking at me. When I can finally stand on my own still with arms stretching out to collectively build a wall between Bobby and me, Allen Davis, the head coach of the team, and Scott, each take hold of my arms and forcefully push me from the dugout toward the offices adjoining the locker room.

  The little come to Jesus meeting with the two of them was what it was. I didn’t even try to make excuses or defend myself. I was ordered to go home and get some rest. Obviously, dinner with Scott is off for tonight since I’m not in a celebrating kinda mood.

  Rest! Take a damn breather.

  Advice of the damn century. I haven’t slept well in two nights. Even now, exhausted and in a terrible mood as I’m leaving the park, I don’t foresee any rest or a breather in my future.

  I checked my phone again for a text from Charlie before I left the field. Nothing since the morning. The fact that we aren’t avoiding each other should comfort me. We talk a couple of times a day and text a bunch, but she’s so damn close I could touch her, and we haven’t found even ten minutes to align our schedules in the past three days.

  Tonight is her dad’s party. I know it is because her dad invited me in the post I made on Facebook, tagging his official campaign page. It’s been over a week since the invite from the governor was extended, and my buttercup, his daughter, hasn’t mentioned a damn word. I took that as her not wanting me to go, and I was okay with it, until I wasn’t. This morning, when I woke up to that being the hot topic on every local news station and a ton of national television and radio stations, I figured out I wasn’t just okay with it.

  I see the tall figure approaching me and swear under my breath. Could this day get any fucking worse?

  “Tyler Stone, you’re a tough guy to track down. I’ve been trying to grab you for an interview since Sunday,” she says confidently,
assuming she’ll get what she wants since I have very few places to retreat to without being rude. She knows as well as I do that I avoid her and all other reporters like the plague. Jessica Christy and I have been doing this song and dance for a couple of years.

  “I saw you close out the game Sunday night. Nice work. It’s no wonder you’re a top prospect for the draft.” Her voice is recognizably flirty which isn’t helping her right now given the current circumstances and my mood.

  “Ha. You already know there was no question in there, ma’am. So what can I help you with because I’m short on time here.” It comes out a little more assertively than I’d planned, but she doesn’t seem ruffled. I’m sure being who she is and stalking players for interviews, she’s heard worse. She’s a beautiful lady. I’d go as far as to label her hot, but I’m not interested in what she’s offering, and I certainly don’t sleep with the press.

  “It just so happens, I do have some questions you can help me with.” She pauses, stepping closer to me. I mimic her movement by stepping further away. One brow shoots up before she continues. “At the last home game, you were spotted blowing kisses in the stand to none other than Charlotte Baker, daughter of the governor, and soon-to-be-announced presidential hopeful. Are the two of you an item?”

  No fucking way! This is what she wants from me? ESPN just reported speculating I’m in the top five of MLB draft prospects, which she knows about because she mentioned it, and she wants to discuss blowing kisses?

  It’s not as if I can avoid answering the questions. I’m locked in here, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let Charlie be dragged through the press on my behalf when she’s already dealing with that with her family.