Offside (38 page)

I wished I would never have to let go.

The game was great.

Well, as far as I know. I really hadn’t paid much attention.

My attention was otherwise focused on the beautiful, blue-eyed girl in the stands, watching me.

Waiting for me.

The final whistle blew, and I did the usual shaking hands with the other team before walking off to the locker rooms. I looked up at Nicole in the stands, smiling and waving at me, and felt my pulse rate increase.

“Going out to the beach?” Jeremy asked.

“Nah,” I said. “Got other plans.”

“Oh, really?” He elbowed me in the gut, and I smacked his dark, curly head. “I think Rachel and I are going out there for a bit, but then we’re heading off for a little more privacy.”

Jeremy waggled his eyebrows, and they looked like two fuzzy caterpillars trying to make cocoons on his forehead. I shook my head at him but couldn’t stop my own smile.

“Yeah,” he snickered, “I thought so.”

“Fuck you!”

“Pussy!”

“Pussies can take a pounding!” I shot back.

We laughed, stripped, and showered before heading out to where our girls were waiting for us. Nicole said goodbye to Rachel and took my hand. The car ride was quiet, and Nicole was chewing on her lip as she stared out the window. I reached over and placed my hand on top of her thigh.

“We don’t have to do shit,” I told her. “If you changed your mind or something…it’s okay. We could order pizza or something and watch TV.”

Nicole looked over at me sideways, and her mouth turned up in a smile.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I think I’m just…a little nervous. The last time…”

I shushed her.

“Don’t think about it,” I said. “Just play it by ear, right? Whatever happens, happens.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” she said. “I could tell how distracted you were on the field. I thought a couple of shots were going to get past you.”

Ditch her before she becomes a distraction.

“I wasn’t,” I lied, “and I didn’t let anything by.”

“That one at the end was close,” she said. “You should have had it solid, but it ended up with them getting a corner.”

“I punched it over—no problem,” I argued.

“You should have had it in your hand,” she retorted.

She was probably right.

“Whatever,” I said instead. I pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine before I turned to her. “Rumple, I mean it—we don’t have to do anything. Let’s just order some food and hang out, okay?”

“Okay,” she said with a smile, “but no pizza—I already have dinner planned.”

“Fucking-A!”

She really did have dinner all planned—including candles and linen napkins on the kitchen table. I had no freaking clue what we were eating—she said it was Indian. I wasn’t sure if that was Native American or actually India-Indian, but it was really good. The food was a little bit spicy and had this thick bread to eat with it and a bunch of little sauces in a dish for dipping. By the time we were done, I was ready to roll right out of the kitchen, I had eaten so much.

“You are a glutton,” Nicole said. She reached over and put a dollop of some green minty sauce on my nose then leaned in and licked it off.

“You cook like a fucking rock star,” I told her.

“Do rock stars cook?” She giggled.

“Um…I dunno, but if they did, it would be like this!” I hoped she bought it.

Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but we ended up ignoring the dishes and moving to the couch to make out instead.

I leaned back against the arm of the couch, and Nicole crawled over the top of me, her lips nipping at my jawline while I just put my head back and basked in the feeling. Her fingers ran up my arm and traced over my biceps. It tickled, but I still liked it. I snaked my arms around her back and pulled her against me. I could feel her tits against my chest, and I had to close my eyes and smile.

I raised my head again and brought my hands up over her shoulders and cupped the sides of her face. She looked up at me, and I could see the slight blush in her cheeks again as I moved forward and took her mouth with mine.

My Rumple.

Fingers, hands, lips—I wanted to touch her with every part of me.

She
was
nervous. It was obvious. I had a pretty good idea why, and I didn’t want her upset, so I just let her do what she wanted and followed her lead. Where she touched me, I touched her. I skimmed her sides, slowly moving up and down and sometimes gripping her a little harder when she used her tongue to reach into my mouth, and I couldn’t help but moan. She was straddling my stomach at first but then moved herself down a little and ripped my shirt off over my head.

“I love your chest,” she said as she tossed my shirt behind her. She glanced away and bit down on her lip again. Her fingers started at my shoulders and worked their way down to my stomach. She outlined each muscle with her fingertip, making my skin quiver a little. I watched her looking at me, and it made me feel all warm inside even though the air in the room was a little chilled, and I could hear the rain starting to come down again outside.

I tugged at the ends of her shirt, where my fingers had been playing with the hem. She looked back to me and grasped the end of her shirt and pulled it up over her head.

Fuck me hard.

Deep blue lace.

My boner rivaled the Washington Monument.

I’d had my hands on her tits before while we were lying in her bed, but it was always a bit dark in there, and there was always the possibility of Greg peeking in. I’d never really seen her tits. I’d felt them up as much as she’d let me at night and sometimes woke up holding on to one of them like a teddy bear, but I’d never seen them. I definitely hadn’t seen them held up in a bra as if they were on fucking display just for me.

Sitting up, I moved my hands until they were right over them, hovering a little and trying to figure out just where I wanted to latch onto first. My fingertips won the mental debate, and I touched her over the top of the lace. Her skin was so soft and prefect that I had to lean over and taste it.

I kissed the tops of her breasts and then looked quickly up to her eyes to make sure it was all still okay. She still looked nervous, but she nodded at me to continue, and I wasn’t going to argue about that. She placed her hands on my shoulders and seemed to balance herself there as I peppered the line with tiny kisses from left to right where the lace met her skin. Then I ran my tongue along the ridge from right to left.

She tasted better than her own cooking, which was like a fucking rock star. I’d never tasted a rock star’s tits, but I was pretty sure they couldn’t be anywhere near as good as my Rumple’s.

She reached behind her back to the clasp, the dark blue fabric falling forward, and I got my first really good look at perfection. I was in awe. The Washington Monument became even more…
monumental
…and I was pretty sure I was starting to drool. I slid her bra off her arms and cupped both breasts in my hands, glancing only briefly to Nicole’s face to see her smile before I rolled them around and brought my mouth down to say hello.

She groaned, and her hands wrapped around my head as I sucked the first nipple into my mouth. That wasn’t enough, so I switched to the other one. I went back and forth, and even tried bringing them close enough together to suck both at once. I was nearly successful, and rolled my tongue around each in turn before tilting my head back up and kissing her deeply.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I told her between kisses, “it fucking hurts to look at you.”

“Hurts?” she mumbled back. She tugged at my hair, pulling my head backwards as she started kissing down my neck.

“Yes, it hurts,” I replied. “In a good way.”

“Good.”

We stayed on the couch with just our top halves bare, touching, kissing, and talking very little until the rain slowly tapered off, and the clock on the wall said it was close to midnight.

“Are you ready to go to bed?” Nicole asked, blushing for the tenth time that evening.

“If you want,” I said.

“Okay.”

After watching Nicole gather up her shirt and bra, I followed her up the stairs to her room. We still took turns in the bathroom, which was both good and funny, considering what we both kind of thought we might maybe sort of be in here to do…if we decide to do it.

I sat on the edge of her bed in some soft lounge pants with images of soccer balls all over them. Nicole glanced at them and stifled a laugh.

“What?”

“I can’t believe those come in your size,” she snickered. “They look like something an eight-year-old would wear.”

“Eight…eighteen—what difference does it make what’s on your pants?”

“What’s in your pants makes a difference,” Nicole blurted out. Her eyes went wide and she slapped her hands over her face.

I laughed.

“Come here,” I said, and I reached out to take her hands. I pulled her toward me, and she ended up straddling my lap and weaving her hands through my hair. I slid my hands up her back and played with the thin straps of the sheer camisole she wore. From this position, I had to look up at her, and she was a glorious sight to behold. “Beautiful.”

Her fingers grazed over my cheek and pushed my hair away from my face. I looked into her eyes and tried to understand her wordless statement as she stared down at me for a long moment then brought her lips back to mine.

Go slow
, I reminded myself.

I wanted to lay her down on the bed, cover her with my body, and fuck the shit out of her.

Well…in some ways I did.

I also wanted to keep it slow and soft and gentle, and maybe just kiss her all night. Even though she was continuing to be the aggressor as far as what would happen next, she still seemed hesitant every time she did something new or different.

I didn’t know if it really made me a better person, and it probably didn’t, but I was always at least upfront with a chick about my intent. I never did the “I’ll be your boyfriend” or “Gimme a little, and I’ll take you to the dance” or any shit like that. I told them what I wanted, and they were either interested, or they weren’t. Most of them were using me just to say they had fucked me anyway, and I was just using them to get off. I wasn’t a fucking saint with the girls, but at least I had been straightforward. The guy Nicole had been with had tricked her, lied to her, and used her in a totally different way.

And it showed.

I’d been with shy girls and hesitant girls, especially virgins who weren’t sure what to expect, but none of them acted quite like Nicole did. She shivered sometimes or would take a deep breath like she was trying to center herself. I looked into her eyes, and there was more there than just shy hesitation.

She almost looked like she was going to cry.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I reached behind my neck, took her hands, and brought them back around me. I held them against my chest for a minute and then brought them up so I could kiss her knuckles. I let go, and she gripped my arms hesitantly; then she nodded.

“You sure?” I brushed my fingers over her cheekbone and kissed her softly. “Remember, we’re just gonna see what happens, right? I’m not…I mean, you know I’m not expecting anything, don’t you?”

“But you’ve…” She stopped and looked over her own left shoulder.

When I reached up and tilted her head back so she was looking at me, I could see tears in her eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, starting to freak out a little. Did she think I was pushing her into this? Did she really not want to? Had I hurt her somehow? “What did I do?”

“You have…experience,” she said softly as she looked away again. “I mean, it sounds like you’ve slept with most of the females in the senior class and half the juniors…and a lot of them knew what they were doing when they were with you…”

“So what?”

“So what?” she looked back at me, and one of the tears escaped. “So I don’t think I can live up to those expectations. I’m not…that good at it. I mean, I’ve only been with…well, with…”