1st Time Love (Dirty Down South)

by Sapphire Knight

  The grill’s fired up and loaded with steaks and kabobs, the delicious aromas of prime beef filling the air when the doorbell chimes, signaling her arrival and upping my enthusiasm inside. Is it weird that I want to cook for her? It’s just another way that I can give her a piece of myself. Small touches count, and I want her to know just how special she is to me.

  Opening the front door, she has me floored instantly in the sweet pink, baby doll style dress she’s rocking. How does she come up with these? First, the short-shorts paired with my jersey, and then there was the halter top and now this.

  “No jeans and t-shirt tonight, huh?” Not that I mind one bit. I could stare at her all night long dolled up or not.

  “I wanted to look nice for our date,” she replies shyly, shrugging her petite shoulders, with a soft blush staining her cheeks and chest as I glance at her from head to toe. She’s absolutely stunning and never stops surprising me with her outfit choices.

  “Sweetheart, you surpass looking nice when you have on your glasses and comfy clothes. This right here is hotness overload. How do you expect me to be able to cook?” My finger tucks a stray lock of her peek-a-boo red hair behind her ear, and she laughs, rolling those gorgeous eyes of hers. Always a little spice to her and I love it.

  “Well I can put on a pair of your sweatpants then until you’re finished because I’m starving and whatever you’re cooking back there smells awesome out here,” she chortles, smacking a loving kiss on my cheek as she comes inside.

  “Hell no, you wear my clothes, and I’ll never get anything done except peeling them off of you.”

  “Oh lord, you’re full of it tonight!” Her smile lights up, making me want to say whatever I can to keep it there.

  Leading her out the sliding glass door to the little white patio table, I wrap an arm around her small waist. I can’t refrain myself from touching her again. “I’m just happy to see you.”

  “Me too, I’ve missed you.”

  “Same here, Pretty. I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

  “Thank you for inviting me, now what are we eating? God, it smells delicious.”

  “Steaks and some chicken kabobs.” Heading over to the grill, I flip the propane off and load up our plates.

  “Mmm, my favorite.”

  “And you’re my favorite.” Winking, I set her plate down and make her blush again.

  “Being here,” she gestures to the house, landing on me. “It makes me miss you even more lately. Does that make sense at all?”

  “Yes, because I feel the same way. It’ll calm down next month, though, I promise, and we can spend Christmas together at the ranch.”

  “That would be amazing, but I’m supposed to visit my dad. He did say he wanted to start coming here more, so maybe I can talk him into spending Christmas in Alabama instead.”

  “Good idea,” I agree, digging into my full plate of food. Not having her around me during the holidays would suck. Hopefully, she can work her magic on him.

  I don’t know what it is about Tyler being in the kitchen, but it makes him unbelievably sexy, kind of like his tight football pants he wears. He rinses another plate and hands it to me to dry as we clean up our dinner dishes. After I wipe off the last dish and the cutting board, he dips his fingers into the water from the faucet and splashes me. He’s done it three times already, but this one was the biggest splash. I’ve ignored him thus far, but this one has me giving in.

  Giggling, my hands quickly wind my towel up and lightly let it loose to pop him with it in the thigh.

  “Ouch!” he yells, chuckling, then surprises me by pulling me to him. I know I didn’t hit him hard enough to actually hurt him, but it made a decent snap sound to make him jump, and that was pretty satisfying.

  “You’re in trouble,” he growls, trying to sound scary, but it does the opposite. It makes him even sexier if that’s possible. Dropping down, he lifts me over his shoulder, taking off out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the bedrooms. Thank God the guys aren’t around with me being in this dress, my panties are on full display.

  “Ah! Where are you taking me?”

  “To show you what happens when you start giving me sass.” His southern drawl has me going, and I can’t help but let loose a loud giggle at his playful threat. I love it that he’s not scared to be silly with me.

  Storming into his bedroom, a man on a mission, he locks his door and just when I expect him to toss me onto his bed, he does the unexpected. Tyler pulls me down over his chest, my body sliding against his until he gently lowers me onto his bed, laying his frame over mine.

  Bringing his lips to my own, he softly sucks my lower lip into his mouth. It’s sweet with just the right amount of sultry to have my body humming inside for him. The flirting and laughing, then this sensual side of him is the perfect combination in a man.

  “Pretty?” Whispering, he pulls away just enough so he can speak against my mouth.

  “Yeah, Ty?” My voice mumbles, just as softly, while I gaze into those sparkly irises of his.

  “I sure do love you.” His lips flutter over mine as they speak some of the most meaningful words I’ve ever heard. He’s close enough that I can feel his love for me, with his heart pounding against my breast with excitement. The silliness from before is replaced with tenderness as a happy tear trails down my cheek.

  “I love you, too, Tyler Owens, so much.” He stares down at me as I respond, his eyes full of raw emotions so sincere that they have my stomach twisting in delightful spins.

  At my admission, his fingers find my softness, rubbing delicious circles until my core is aching for him to make love to me. Pulling his lips between my teeth, I nibble and urge him on, wanting all of him.

  “Can I have you?” He asks, sweetly rubbing his nose against mine.

  “You already do. You have since the first time you helped me up. Please make love to me.” Gripping the sides of his shirt, my hands work to free his torso that’s fit for a Greek god.

  “Is it all right if we leave the dress on? You’re incredibly stunning in it. I want to remember you like this—cheeks flushed, sexy dress, telling me that you love me.”

  “Yes, of course.” I grin, happy he loves the outfit that I picked to wear especially for Tyler and knowing that this moment is just as special for him as it is for me.

  Eagerly, he pulls my panties down my legs and kisses up my calves. Soft, delicate touches of his lips flutter up the insides of my thighs until they caress where I need him the most. His hands are rough against my skin as they stroke me. Words such as ‘perfect, amazing, and magnificent’ leave his mouth, making me feel truly beautiful inside and out—and loved. He never stops making me feel loved, even for a moment.

  And that’s when I know that I want him forever…

  Remember, if you are not playing your heart out,

  someone else is. And when you meet him,

  he will win.

  “Hey.” I fist bump both the guys, greeting them first thing the next day at the dean’s building. “Are we ready?”

  “Yes,” Chandler mumbles, with dark bags under his eyes.

  “You all right? You’re looking like shit, bro.”

  “I’m fine. I was up all night trying to get the girls to come with us. Neither of them would budge, and both of them ended up fighting with me the entire time I was at their apartments.”

  “Fun,” JJ grumbles sarcastically at Chandler’s admission, causing him to roll his eyes.

  Not wanting to get into it again with him about not setting boundaries, we head into the main office and ask the receptionist to let us in. Dean Wilcox had a few meetings, so we had to wait a while before he finally called us in.

  “Well hello gentlemen,” he greets, wearing a friendly smile. “I didn’t know it was some of our football players out here or I would’ve had Annette cancel my last meeting.”

  “It’s no problem, sir,” Chandler replies and shakes the older man’s hand. JJ and I follow suit, and then we all take a
seat in the leather chairs placed around the front of his desk.

  “So what can I do for you three? By the way, nice win last week; we really appreciate your dedication to our program.”

  “Thanks,” we mumble, not looking forward to the news we have to share and the fact that it has to do with a football player at that.

  “Well, sir,” Chan begins, “we have an issue with a fellow player.”

  I feel like that’s an understatement. My problem with Briggs is huge. I’d let him get mauled a few times by an angry bear if it were up to me. There’s no love lost between us either, now that he knows how much I can’t stand him.

  “Shouldn’t you ughmm,” he clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable, “be speaking to your coach about that sort of thing, young man?” His eyebrows rise as he taps his fingers on the large white calendar taking up most his desk top. It’s full of scribble writing, no doubt his own. A secretary would be fired with penmanship like that.

  “Normally, yes, we would, but this has an illegal aspect that we thought you’d appreciate being brought to your attention.”

  “Very well then, shoot.”

  Tightening my lips, I try to hold back the chuckle wanting to break free at his choice of words. It’s his belt buckle; it’s so big that it’s screwing with me not to stare openly at it.

  Listening aptly, Dean Wilcox barely breathes as we each tell him different parts about what Briggs has been up to with the females on campus and then about our ‘social outing’ at my ranch and him trying to drug someone.

  “Wow.” Sitting back in his chair, he adjusts the overly large buckle at his waist, drawing my eyes back to the ostentatious piece of metal. The Dean’s like a citified cowboy or something, always in a brand new Stetson hat and belt to match. “I’m assuming you have a way to prove all of this?”

  Sitting beside me, Chandler complies, laying a memory stick on the solid oak desk. “Two women who were victims of Briggs were able to download files from his computer each time that they visited his apartment. We had his phone too, but we destroyed it so no one would see all the filth he had on it.”

  “So these women, they continued to see him after what they’d been through? You’re sure these videos weren’t authorized by both parties?”

  “Yes sir, they umm…they had to keep seeing him, it was part of the whole scheme. If they tried to stop doing what he wanted, he threatened to post the videos and pictures on the public forums.” Shrugging, Chandler quickly glances to the side at us both, uncomfortable talking about the situation.

  “Well, shit.” A curse slips free from Dean Wilcox, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him lose his professional façade. Sitting forward, he rests his elbows on the edge of the oak desk and places his face in his hands.

  JJ glances over at me next, looking freaked out as if we just broke the Dean or something.

  “I’m going to call campus security and have them arrest this man after we view everything. Whatever you do, gentlemen, don’t speak a word of this to anyone. I don’t want him to know what we have up our sleeve before we actually have a chance to get the proper steps in motion.”

  Chandler interrupts, “Sir, the women who were able to get this don’t want anyone to know. They’re hoping he’d get expelled and banned from the property.”

  “And I hope you’re kidding. If this all happened like you three are telling me, then this guy needs to be put in jail. Expelling him won’t stop him from doing this again and hurting other women. The University of Alabama does not tolerate this sort of behavior from a student—ever.”

  “I agree,” I reply and elaborate on our plan. “But they refuse. JJ and I were thinking about contacting sites and papers anonymously about him, so it spreads, but none of the victims are named.”

  “They won’t print it without some sort of proof, police involvement, and a trial. I’m sorry, but this man has the intent to hurt other students. I have to report this. I applaud you for bringing it to my attention; you did the right thing. Now wash your hands of it and let me take care of it. Understand?” He orders sternly, and we all reply, “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be speaking to your coach about this as well, but I won’t bring you into it. No one needs to know who gave me the information—just that I have it. If you find out anything else, please don’t hesitate to come to my office. Now relax and have a good day. You need to be thinking about football, none of this other stuff anymore. Let the authorities handle it.” He smiles, back to being professional.

  “Thank you,” I respond and stand, the guys following suit.

  “Have a good day, gentlemen.” Repeating himself, he holds his office door open for us to pass through.

  Once we’re outside, JJ turns to us, “I figured he would’ve wanted us to give statements to the cops at least.”

  Chandler nods, chewing on his bottom lip, obviously something running through his own mind.

  “Yeah, but maybe he wants to try and bust him without our names being involved unless it’s absolutely necessary. He must think they have enough evidence that he won’t need to involve our names in it. Frankly, I’m glad about it. I want Briggs gone, but when the NFL does any looking into me, that’s not something I want to pop up. It’s better this way, and our names won’t be tied to it, even if we were just trying to help.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that,” JJ agrees.

  “Now what?” I ask.

  “We do what we’re good at.” Chandler finally flashes a small smile. “We play football.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Did y’all notice his damn belt buckle?” I ask, and they both chuckle.

  Three days later Chandler storms into the locker room, forcibly tossing his gear into his locker, clearly upset about something, ready to lose it.

  “What’s the matter, bro?” JJ steps beside him.

  Chandler, angrier than I can ever remember seeing him, faces us. “That motherfucker is gone, I can’t believe it. All that work and for nothing, what a waste,” he rambles on.

  “Excuse me?” I take a step closer so he can explain without involving the entire team.

  “Gone, you guys. Like as in, he packed his shit up and got out of there.”

  You know somethings bad if he’s swearing like this. He obviously means Briggs by how pissed off he is.

  “How? The cops probably have him.” I try to reason, not wanting Coach Stratton to notice the noise coming from our way.

  “They don’t. Lila saw him packing his things into his car and taking off. I called the campus police and apparently ‘he’s wanted for questioning.’ But they don’t have him. And now she’s freaking out about it all, thinking that he’s going to put out the videos of her on the campus website.”

  Shaking his head, JJ argues, “No way. Dean Wilcox said he’d take care of it, and I trust him, she’s just being dramatic.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too, so I called him. They weren’t able to pick Briggs up. Wilcox actually had the nerve to ask me if we were the ones who warned Briggs to get out of here! Can you believe the nerve of that guy?”

  Running my hands through my hair, I let out an irritated grumble, “Shit.”

  “Yeah, that’s not all,” Chandler continues, outraged. “I told him to go to hell. I wasn’t putting up with those ridiculous accusations.”

  “Oh God.” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I meet his gaze. “Please tell me you’re exaggerating.”

  “Nope. I told him to go straight to hell, and then I hung up on him.” He starts fighting with his shoulder pads, his moves too jerky so that they keep getting caught on one of the sides of the small locker box.

  “Jesus Chandler, he can get you benched from games for that shit!”

  “He needs to worry about catching a psycho running around campus that’s blackmailing women, not an angry football player who was rude for two minutes.”

  JJ interrupts, whispering, “Shhh!” And then glances around at each of our teammates suiting up to make sure no one overhea
rd us.

  “Why should I be quiet? I’ve already thought it over. If he wants to get me in trouble for any of it, I’ll go to the media. I’ve sat by and waited just like he told us to do three days ago and then he goes and fucks it all up!”

  “I get it that you’re upset man,” I try to reason a little with him. “Hell, we all are, but you need to calm down.” Stratton will have his pants in a wad if he gets wind that we’re caught up in this mess, so close to the bowl.

  “Seriously, Owens?” Chan growls. “I’ve spent nearly every waking moment that I’m not at practice with these two women, and now they’re terrified that he’s going to come for them or post the videos all over the place. It’s my fault for getting them to steal the stuff in the first place. I should’ve turned that phone in to the police when I had the chance, and then they’d already have him.”

  “I’m sorry they’re freaking out, and I can see that you’ve clearly started to care for them, both of them, but this is their fight, not yours. It may make me sound like a dick, but you’re already doing enough by being around to protect them and help them stand up to Briggs. You should be proud man, not beating yourself up about it all. You did the right thing, we all did.”

  JJ claps him on the back. “You need to let the cops do their job, C.”

  With a few deep breaths, Chandler nods. “I’ll try to calm down, but it’s all wrong. Practice should help, I hope anyway. I don’t like feeling as if I’m helpless and right now I’m basically twirling my thumbs like an asshole.”

  “I know man, I know. You can tackle some of the second strings to help get it all out.”

  It’s the only way that I know how to help him. I’ve never dealt with this sort of thing before, but I also know that it’s not good for Chandler to be losing his shit after he’s done nothing but support the chicks and try to get some sort of justice. We have at least five games left, and I need him one hundred percent in all of them.