by Natalie Rios
“Uh huh.” Thinking about the end of our bet has my stomach in knots. Does that mean I won’t see Theo anymore? I’ve gotten used to him hanging around. And then there’s the kiss...My heart lurches just thinking about it. “Have you ever even shared a meal with a girl? One who isn’t related to you?”
“No, but anytime you want to change that, just let me know,” he replies in that deep voice that always provokes a reaction in my stomach. “You can be the first.”
I wasn’t expecting that. And truthfully, I don’t know how to respond. Is this another line? Why is it getting increasingly harder to tell?
I answer the only way I can: with snark.
“Will you be serving up sausage? A cock sandwich with a side of Schweddy balls?”
“I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.” So he wasn’t being serious. Okay. That’s what I thought. No reason to be disappointed.
“Am I supposed to tell you they’re bigger than I expected? Slick, oily, and tender? So succulent and rich?”
“Sounds like you want a sample.”
“In your dreams, Montgomery.”
“In my dreams, we’re doing more than just sampling.” I pause. There’s something about his tone...Are we still joking around?
He’s joking, Allie. Of course he’s joking.
“Tell me more, tell me more,” I sing, doing my best Grease impression.
“Can I ask you something? That night you called about Rodney picking you up…when you asked me what I think about when I come. Were you really joking?”
“Um…” I bite my lip, unsure where this is going. I thought I did a good job playing off my moment of temporary insanity as a joke. “Why do want to know?”
“Just answer the question. And be honest. No bullshit.”
“Theo…”
“I think you lied. I think you want to know what I think about. I think you want me to be thinking of you.”
I say nothing, but the hitch in my breath gives me away. He’s right. I do want him thinking of me in that way because I think of him in that way. Constantly.
“Do you want me to tell you what I think about?” How does he do that? Make a simple question sound like pure temptation? “Just say the words.”
Is he playing a game? I wish we were talking in person or at least over FaceTime. It’s hard to get a read on him when all I have to go on are his words. Let it go, the rational part of my brain whispers. Give him one of your patented witty retorts and steer this dialogue back to familiar territory.
It’s excellent advice. Sage, even. Except…except all this increased blood flow must have done something to my brain. Disconnected it from the rest of my body or something. Because the words that end up flying out of my mouth are the truth.
“I lied.” My heart pounds in hopeful exhilaration and I have to beat back the butterflies in my stomach with a club as I wait for him to continue.
There’s a pause, a brief moment where all I can hear is his uneven breathing. “You’re lying on your back,” he starts. “Your hair spread out across my pillow. Your eyes are on me, watching as I run my fingers down your neck. Gliding my hands down your body until I reach the hem of your shirt. And I want to see you. I want to see those perky tits, nipples hard and aching for me.”
Jesus. He was serious.
And I can’t fucking breath.
“So you pull off my shirt...” Oh, God. What am doing? This is stupid. So fucking stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should just hang up –
“And I suck on one,” he continues. “Gently, because I want to savor the taste. Teasing you with flicks of my tongue. Long and lazy licks, like I’ve got all the time in the world. Rolling your nipple back and forth. I drag my tongue along the underside of each of your perfect tits, pressing my cock against you until I know you’ve soaked through your panties.” He’s breathing even faster now, erratic breaths that let me know he’s just as turned on as I am.
Without thinking, I moan, “More.”
“I move my hand between your legs, push aside the fabric of your panties. Use one fingertip to brush your clit. Rub slow circles around it while I push two fingers inside of your pussy. Pump them in and out, nice and slow. Fuck you with my fingers while I suck on those plump red lips of yours. Tell me you’re wet, Allie.”
My hand, my traitorous hand, skims down my stomach. Slips beneath my panties. My fingers easily slide inside. “So wet.”
“I need to taste you,” he says, his voice strained. I wonder what he’s doing right now. If he’s lying in his bed with his dick in his hand. If his dick is throbbing against his palm as he jacks himself to relieve the pressure.
I lick my lips at the image. “Yes.”
“Tell me you want me to taste you. Tell me you want me to put my mouth on you.”
Closing my eyes, images of his head between my legs flood my mind. And I swear, I can almost feel his hot breath on my skin. “I want your mouth on me.”
“I’m lapping you up. Spreading you apart with my thumbs so I can run my tongue up your center. Lick up and down, from top to bottom, again and again. You arch against my mouth, trying to direct me. You want my tongue inside of you, don’t you? You want me to slide it directly into your pussy.”
“Yes,” I moan, my toes curling at the thought of his hot tongue inside of me.
“But no, I just continue to tease you. Circling around and around where you want it. And then I pull your clit between my lips and suck on it until you’re screaming my name. I bring you to the edge just like that, sliding my fingers in and out while I suck on your clit. But you tell me it’s not enough.”
“It’s not enough,” I echo. I’m not even sure what the hell I’m saying anymore. I just know he has me at the edge of an orgasm and I need more.
“Tell me you want my cock inside of you.”
“Yes,” I breathe out.
“Tell me you’re fucking yourself with your fingers, pretending it’s my cock inside of you.”
“Yes.” That’s exactly what I’m doing, my head falling back into my pillow as I furiously buck against my hand, using my thumb to circle my clit. I’m so close, the fire inside of me building and building.
“Tell me you want me to come inside of you.”
“Yes. I want it.”
“Say it,” he demands, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you want.”
“I...you...” I think I’ve forgotten how to speak, I’m that lightheaded and dizzy from the pleasure. “Make me come, Theo.”
The pressure that had been building low in my core suddenly explodes. My free hand fists into the bedspread and I have to bite down on my lip to stifle the sound. Closing my eyes, I moan as the pleasure hits me in waves. One after the other, knocking me back down every time I think I’m ready to get back up.
Holy moly, that’s the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. Actually, if that’s what orgasms are supposed to feel like, I’m not sure if I’ve ever orgasmed before.
And it was over the phone, with Theo.
“Allie,” he pants, out of breath.
My head is spinning and my clit is still clenching. What in the hell just happened? How am I ever going to be able to look him in the eye again?
“Allie?” This time, he says my name like it’s a question.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I blurt out.
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I’m thinking out loud at this point. “None of it matters.”
“Allie-”
“Hey!” Lia bursts into my room. “Will you go with me to the Omega party tonight? I’m supposed to meet this guy Trent – oh! Are you on the phone? Who are you talking to?”
“No one! Gotta go. Bye!” I quickly hang up on Theo. Thank God my hand had been underneath the covers. And we had already finished. Though, shit, what if Lia heard me?
Lia tilts her head to one side and cocks a brow. “Who was that?”
“No one.”
“Why is your fac
e all red?”
Because I’m almost positive Theo and I just had phone sex.
“Is it red?” I say instead, resisting the urge to press my palms against my cheeks. “Huh. Must be hot in here.”
“What are you wearing?”
“A sweatshirt.” I try my best not to fidget. There is no way she knows it’s his. Sure, it’s baggy on me, but it’s just a sweatshirt. Black and orange, with the Carlton Football logo emblazoned on the front, just like thousands of other sweatshirts I’ve seen around campus.
“That’s a football team sweatshirt.”
“Gee, thanks Captain Obvious.” I wave my hand across my chest. “Says Carlton Football right across the front.”
“No, I mean it’s a team issued sweatshirt. Only the team gets these. Cam had one when he played.” Faster than I can blink, she’s at my side, tugging on the back of the hood. “Unlike the regular ones, these have the player’s name stitched along the hood. See? Stitched right here, #16 Montgomery.”
There’s a pause, a moment when we’re both silently processing what this means. And then –
“Oh my God! This is Theo Montgomery’s sweatshirt! How did you get this? How?”
“I, uh...He gave it to me because I was cold,” I stammer. Well, at least that’s not a lie.
“When?”
“Earlier this week. After class.” Also technically not a lie. The pool party was after class.
“Why do I get the feeling you two know each other better than you’re letting on?”
Well, there’s no point in hiding it now. “We went to prep school together.”
“Why didn’t you say so before? You need to introduce me! You know I’ve had a crush on him forever!”
No, no, no!
I clear my throat. “You’ve already been introduced, remember? At the Kappa party last month?”
“Okay, well, set us up then. Put in a good word for me. Hook a sister up,” Lia winks, looking a tad too excited for my liking.
Ordinarily, I would have no problem doing this favor for Lia. She’s my best friend. I’ve been her wingwoman plenty of times throughout college and even played matchmaker once when I hooked her up with one of my cousins. But now, with Theo?
Here’s the thing. Lia is more Theo’s type than I am. Blonde hair, big boobs, and a sorority girl. And more importantly, Lia’s down with hooking up. A girl like that? Theo would be on her in a heartbeat.
And the thought of the two of them together makes me sick. Like, I’m going to throw up all over my bed kind of sick.
Shaking those thoughts out of my head, I focus on Lia. “Aren’t you meeting someone at the Omega party tonight? Trent?”
Lia looks at me like I’m crazy. “Trent, Schment. This is Theo Montgomery we’re talking about.”
Biting my lower lip, I hesitate. “I don’t know...”
“What, do you want him for yourself or something?”
“No!” I school my face into an impassive mask. I don’t want Theo. I can’t want Theo. “It’s just, he’s such a player, you know? That guy screws everyone.”
Lia rolls her eyes. “Not everyone. There are plenty of girls on campus he doesn’t even spare a glance at. And I’m not saying I want to marry the guy. But it’s Theo fucking Montgomery. Carlton’s resident sex god.”
“Right,” I deadpan. “Sex god.”
“I mean, he’s hot, Allie. So hot. All hard edges and rippling muscles. My panties get wet just thinking about him. And the word around campus is he’s packing a good nine inches, if you know what I mean,” she saucily winks. “So, set us up? Please?”
I force a smile. “Sure,” I say. Even though there’s a knot of uncertainty forming in my stomach. Even though my nails are cutting into skin from how tightly I’ve balled my fists. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll talk to him.”
As I watch Lia jump with excitement, I feel a pang of something else, a nauseous sort of feeling I haven’t experienced before. It isn’t until hours later, when I’m forcing myself to talk to people at the Omega party instead of obsessively checking my phone for messages, that I can put a name to that feeling.
Jealousy.
Theo: You watching the game today?
Me: The number you have dialed has been disconnected.
Theo: That doesn’t work over text, Allie Cat.
Me: Just trying to keep you on your toes, Montgomery.
Theo: Aren’t you going to tell me what you’re doing instead of watching the game?
Me: ...
Theo: What does that mean?
Me: The greatest rivalry of all time is on right now.
Theo: Auburn vs. Alabama?
Me: NO! Yankees vs. Red Sox, baby!
Theo: Wait, you’re a Sox fan?
Me: Wash your filthy lying mouth out with some soap, Theodore! I’m all about them YANKEES.
Theo: Plot twist. Definitely did not see that one coming.
Me: Not sure how since I’m from NY and they’re, you know, the home team.
Theo: Smartass. I meant you liking baseball, period. I thought you don’t like sports?
Me: Not true. I just don’t like football.
Theo: Do you know anything about football?
Me: Friday Night Lights, remember? Starts and ends there.
Theo: So how do you know you don’t like it?
Me: I just don’t.
Theo: But you like the Yankees?
Me: I bleed blue.
Theo: Show me the receipts.
Me: Pics on the way!
Theo: Damn, you’re wearing a hat and jersey too.
Theo: Hold up.
Theo: ARE YOU AT FUCKING FENWAY?
Me: Calm down, Kanye. But yes, I’m at Fenway. Schmidty works in the Sox’s marketing department and scored us free tickets.
Theo: Wearing Yankee gear to Fenway is ballsy. You would.
Me: Of course. The Hogwarts Sorting Hat would place me in Gryffindor.
Theo: The Dominican Hermione Granger.
Theo: Wait. If you’re Hermione Granger, who does that make me?
Me: Draco Malfoy.
Theo: Wasn’t he the bad guy?
Me: No…please tell me you know who the villain is in Harry Potter? Because that’s a deal breaker. Friendship over. I said GOOD DAY, sir!
Theo: Maybe I should call you Meryl Streep, chasing Oscars with all that drama.
Theo: I know Voldemort is the villain, but is Draco the bully then?
Me: Not exactly...It’s complicated but I would say Draco Malfoy is misunderstood.
Theo: Oh, so you’re saying I’m misunderstood :-)
Me: Don’t put words in my mouth, Theodore.
Theo: It ain’t WORDS I’m trying to put in your mouth, Allie Cat.
Me: And there it is. Your sexually inappropriate comment of the day.
Theo: What, you mean I only get one?
Me: Go toss some footballs, Draco.
15
Theo
I’M twitchy as fuck on my way to class. Nervous, tense and just all around uneasy.
Allie and I had phone sex. I jacked off to the breathy sounds she was making over the phone and I’m almost positive she got off on my dirty talk. Just thinking about the strangled moans and whimpers she made as she orgasmed has my dick standing at attention. And, shit, now is definitely not the time to pitch a tent.
Did I cross a line? I don’t know and the uncertainty is killing me. I wanted to ask her during our now traditional pregame text exchange, but this isn’t the type of conversation you have over text.
And she seemed cool over text, joking and teasing me like normal. But what if, now that she’s had time to think things through, she pushes me away? What if she’s so unsure, she won’t even look at me anymore?
I get to class early, hoping to snag a few extra minutes with her. As luck would have it, Allie is already there, tapping away on her iPad. Just seeing her steals my breath away – seriously, the moment I drink in those dark eyes and that kissable plump
mouth, my lungs cannot breathe properly.
Heart pounding against my chest, I slide into the seat next to her. “Hey.”
Her head snaps up, eyes meeting mine. And she’s smiling, a full open-mouth smile that has my fingers itching to touch her. Good God, I want to eat her up. Kiss and suck my way up her body until she’s wet and slippery.
I’m pretty sure the tent in my pants just got bigger.
“Hi,” she offers.
“I see you survived a day in enemy territory.” Wait. Why the fuck am I talking about the game? I don’t give a shit about some baseball game.
“Sadly, the Sox did not. Yankees won, 4-1.”
“Nice.” What’s a good segue for this? Fuck it. I’ll just be blunt. Allie appreciates honesty. “So. About Friday night-”
“Hey, Theo!” A girl lightly elbows my side. She’s grinning down at me, wearing a bright Carlton sweater. “You were amazing on Saturday. That last touchdown...wow! You’re at, what, 1500 passing yards this season?”
A football groupie. I try not to wince as I offer her a smile.
Taking that as an invitation, the girl leans down and touches my shoulder like she knows me. “You guys are having a hell of season so far. Bowl worthy, for sure!”
I would like nothing more than to tell this girl to fuck off so I can continue my conversation with Allie. But she’s a fan. Fans deserve my gratitude. “Thanks,” I say, keeping my tone polite but disinterested. “Your support means a lot to us.”
“If you ever need someone to hang out with after a game...” She clicks her pen and scribbles something on the top page of my notebook. “Call me.”
“Uh huh.” I have no intention of calling her. But my answer, coupled with a friendly smile, is enough to get her moving. The second she walks away, I turn my attention back to Allie.
Who I find watching me through hooded eyes.
Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?
“Sorry. About Friday night-”
“Theo.” She says my name softly, her tone easy. So maybe I didn’t fuck up? “This doesn’t have to be weird.”
I exhale, feeling relieved to hear that. “Good, good.”