11. Lark
ELEVEN
LARK
“So, you’re telling me that people thought jerking off would kill them in the 1800s?”
“Yep,” I say with a giggle. “Doctors warned men that if they masturbated, they’d become intellectually stunted and eventually experience memory loss. For women, it was even worse. They were told that if they dared to touch themselves, they’d fall ill with a dry cough and pale complexion that would eventually turn into weakness and death.”
After the away trip last week, we returned to Daytona, where Ace had half a day off before playing twice at Fury Field. We were able to get some studying in before the quiz, which he passed with a C, then read ahead a little bit for the Sexual Behaviors module that officially started yesterday. We still ended up a little behind because we spent all of yesterday traveling to Los Angeles, so we’re catching up now at the hotel. It’s a smaller room than last time, and there’s no table to sit at, so we’re huddled together on the queen-sized bed. It’s not exactly ideal, but we’re making it work.
After our flirty game of Twister the other night, I’m doing my best to stay on task, but it’s been hard. I acted way out of character before I left his room, yet for some reason, I haven’t felt weird about it. I probably should, since I’m his tutor and we’re ten years apart, but he’s fun to hang out with, and he makes me feel like I can just be me. Even though we’ve only known each other for just over a week, I feel so comfortable around him—like I don’t have to hide. I can be silly and flirty, and he gives it right back.
His brows pull in, confusion written all over his face. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m dumber if I don’t jack off at least once a day. I can’t focus if I’m backed up.”
I shrug, looking down at my notes as I try to erase the mental image of Ace fucking his hand from my mind. I wonder if he lies on the bed or stands in front of a mirror. Does he do it in the shower? Does he moan, or is he silent when he orgasms? Does he stroke with his fist, or does he fuck into it with his hips?
Holy shit, Lark. You truly have no shame. Focus.
I clear my throat. “There are a lot of benefits to masturbation, both physical and psychological. The reason why it was looked at in that way back then was because nobody was comfortable talking about it. Even conversing about sex between a married couple was off-limits. Unless it was for procreation, the act of intercourse was frowned upon. People rarely did it for pleasure alone, and if they did, they never discussed it.
“That’s why researchers in the nineteen-eighties developed something called the Sexual Opinion Survey, or SOS. They wanted to be able to study people’s reactions to certain thoughts and behaviors regarding sex, and how comfortable they are with certain topics. You took one as your first assignment for this course. Professor Stockton always has her students do them at the beginning, then again toward the end to see if anything has changed. It’s really more for yourself since nobody sees them but you, but it’s interesting to see how people’s attitudes and comfort levels shift when they’ve been exposed to more information.”
“Did yours change a lot?” he asks. “I mean, after you took the course?”
I shake my head. “Well, I sort of knew I was comfortable talking about sexual behaviors before I signed up for the class because I had already started on my path to becoming a sex therapist. At least, that was my path—until I found out I wouldn’t be getting my tuition covered anymore.”
He frowns, tilting his head to the side. “So, you completely dropped out?” he asks.
I shrug, exhaling a defeated breath. “If I can come up with the full amount for the year, plus books and supplies, I can at least get a few more classes under my belt. It all happened so fast. I didn’t really have a backup plan until you came along. One minute, I was working at the college with free tuition, and the next, I was in my ex-mother-in-law’s office being fired.” His eyebrows pull together, and he scratches his cheek, clearly confused, so I continue. “She wants me to go back to using my maiden name because she doesn’t like the thought of me tarnishing her family’s prim-and-proper reputation by helping people work through their issues with sex.”
He smirks knowingly. “And you don’t want to give her the satisfaction.”
“Exactly.” I pop a shoulder. “I could. I’m sure it would make my life a lot easier, but she always bullies people. She did it to me throughout my whole relationship with her son. We never made any decisions together, even when they affected us both. If he needed something, she basically pushed me out of the way to take care of it. I always knew she was overstepping and inserting herself into our marriage, but I thought it was just a bad habit. I didn’t realize she was sabotaging the entire thing until the damage was already done. I lost so much respect for them both that I couldn’t come back from it.”
My eyes go wide. I just word-vomited all my baggage on this poor guy. He probably thinks I’m a fucking basket case. Who does that?
“That was way too much,” I rush out. “I’m sorry, Ace. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Fuck her,” he says. “Fuck them both. You deserve better than that, Lark. I’m sorry they treated you like you didn’t have anything to offer. Just so you know”—he looks up, his gorgeous blue eyes burning into mine—“I think you’re amazing. And I admire the way you’re standing your ground.”
I bring my gaze to my hands, which are twisted together in my lap. “Thanks,” I reply. “I just hope all this fighting isn’t for nothing. Even if I do make enough to get myself through school, then what? Opening my own practice would be a risk in this economy. Not to mention, specializing in sex therapy instead of just general therapy or marriage counseling may be a bad choice. Society still places such a stigma on asking for help when it comes to issues with sex, whether they’re personal or with a partner. Will I even be able to build a clientele?” I shake my head. “I want to help people, but these thoughts get me every now and then, making me second-guess everything I’m working so hard for.”
His hand extends between us, curling a finger under my chin and lifting it so I’m looking at him. “You’re going to make a difference, Lark Dawson. Don’t doubt yourself.” The way he says it is soft, but also like he’s fully confident in his words. So much so that it makes me believe them too. In this moment, I realize that there’s more to Ace Mathers than just some young, professional athlete who likes to flirt and joke around. Sure, he does those things. They’re what make him so much fun to spend time with. But there’s also a man underneath all of that who’s supportive and caring…and even though he’s famous and has tons of money, he doesn’t judge.
I swallow thickly, not knowing whether I want him to pull his hand away or lean in and kiss me, but I’m definitely confused as our gazes only become more intense. I can’t tear my eyes away. Looking at him makes me feel…warm. Like I’m being wrapped in a fluffy blanket and held tight.
We sit there for what feels like minutes, his hand finally dropping down to grab mine and pull it free from where it’s being gripped by the other. He laces our fingers together, indecision slipping over his expression for just a moment before he exhales and speaks again.
“My mom had me when she was sixteen years old,” he begins as I listen intently. I can tell that he’s uncomfortable with whatever he’s about to say, so I squeeze his hand gently in a silent show of support. “She dropped out of school to take care of me but got sick of motherhood really quick. She’d go out with her friends, leaving me with my grandmother and not coming back for days. When she did, she was almost always hungover. She’d sleep it off, doing the bare minimum as a mom, just to take off again the next night. Eventually, she said she didn’t want me anymore and just… left. ”
I sigh, bringing my other hand to where ours are intertwined and rubbing his knuckles with my fingertips.
“As I got older, my grandma made sure I knew the consequences of having sex. She would warn me that having a kid would ruin my life, and I’d end up not being able to play baseball. The thought scared me so much that, before I knew it, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin.”
I shake my head slowly. “Ace, a lot of people wait until they’re adults to have sex. Between the way society views it as taboo—and how we’ve placed more importance on preaching purity than actually teaching people how to be safe—it’s hard to make an uninfluenced decision. It’s okay to wait in the same way that it’s okay to explore.”
He looks down at where my thumb is ghosting over the back of his hand. “It didn’t really bother me much through school because I was constantly playing travel ball. My only focus was standing out to scouts as a top prospect, which I did. But right after the MLB Draft, it all changed.”
He takes a shaky breath, looking up at me for just a moment before averting his eyes back down. “There was this girl. I went to school with her, and she was super popular. She dated the captain of the football team for a few years, but they broke up that night. She said it was because she realized how unmotivated he was. She told me all these things about how amazing I was and how she was proud that I’d been drafted and was going to do such big things. I was completely inexperienced when it came to even talking to girls, so I ate it up. She seemed so genuine.
“One thing led to another, and we ended up in her bed. I was nervous, but I had watched enough porn to know what went where. I was fumbling like the virgin I was, but I did my best not to let on because I was honestly embarrassed and didn’t want her to know I’d never done it before. But when the time came, I blew my load in seconds. It was mortifying.”
“That’s normal for the first time,” I reassure him, and he nods.
“Yeah, I know,” he continues. “Anyway, she said it wasn’t a big deal and kissed me goodbye, so I stupidly thought maybe we were going to try to date each other. When she showed up on my doorstep two days later with a recording of our entire experience, I went into panic mode. She said I was the worst lay she’d ever had, and that she was going to send the video to the whole school. She purposely had her head turned away from where the camera was hidden, so even though it was in her room, nobody could technically prove it was her. But there was no mistaking my face.”
He swallows, keeping his eyes lowered to my lap. “She told me she’d delete it if I paid her, but I didn’t have any money. Just because I had been drafted didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t given a contract or signing bonus right away, so I was backed into a corner. I had no choice but to ask my grandmother for help.
“She was so angry with me—telling me how irresponsible I was and how I had ruined my life after she tried so hard to teach me. I was safe. I used a condom and did everything I could to protect myself from getting her pregnant or getting an STI, but I never expected that I would be recorded without my permission and blackmailed for it.”
This poor guy. He was so careful, yet his privacy and trust were still obliterated. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that was for him.
“Did you tell the police?” I ask. “What she did to you is so illegal.”
He shakes his head. “We talked to a lawyer, and while he encouraged me to press charges, he also said that if it went to court, the whole thing would be public record. Media would find out, and the team might’ve seen me as more trouble than I was worth with all the bad PR it could’ve brought. So, I decided not to report it. We sent her a cease and desist letter, which apparently scared her because she came to me and said she had deleted it and that it would never see the light of day if I promised not to go public with what she did. I had a lot to lose, but so did she with all the laws she broke, so we let it go. The lawyer made her sign a non-disclosure agreement as another line of defense, and that was that.”
I squeeze his hand again, wishing there was more I could do to comfort him. This only happened three years ago, so I’m sure he still deals with the emotional aftermath from time to time. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Ace. And I’m sorry your first time was tainted by everything that went down after.”
“It was my only time ,” he says quietly. At first, I don’t think I heard him right. I mean, there’s no way this gorgeous, funny, hotter-than-sin man who touches and flirts so confidently could have virtually no sexual experience.
Right ?
Thankfully, he continues because there’s not a chance I’d ask for more information. I’m comfortable with him, and he’s obviously comfortable with me, but we haven’t even known each other for two full weeks. I can’t just assume he’d lay every single one of his cards on the table right now—but he does anyway.
“The whole thing shook me to my core. It made me afraid to trust anyone. If I thought something like this could be detrimental to my life and career before, it’s even more so now. That was just a girl from my hometown who wanted a few bucks. The women who throw themselves at me now are a whole other story. Some of them have enough decency to at least act like they like us. But others are completely open about just wanting to fuck us because we play pro ball. I’ve had teammates warn me with all sorts of horror stories, not knowing that I already have one of my own.” He shrugs. “So, it’s safer to just not put myself in the position. I’m twenty-one years old, and I’ve had sex for a total of fifteen seconds—and that’s a very generous number.”
He looks embarrassed and ashamed as he says it, and it breaks my heart. I want to make him feel better, but what do you say to someone who was violated so badly that they stopped trusting others because of it?
“Well,” I say, looking at him with an understanding smile, “I’m not a therapist, so I won’t offer you advice as one. But as your friend, do you want to know what I think?”
“Yeah,” he replies.
“I think that it’s okay to move forward. I understand being scared of people with bad intentions, but not everyone is like that. You have so much to offer, and I know that there are women out there who would trip over each other for a chance to get to know the real Ace Mathers. You deserve good sex with someone who sees how amazing you are and treats your trust like the gift it is. Don’t give up on that because some people can’t see what they’re missing out on.”
He swallows thickly as he brings his free hand up to my cheek, rubbing his thumb along the warm skin as he leans in closer. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest, but I don’t move. I can’t. I’m frozen—at war with myself about what I even want to happen next. Do I want to kiss him? God, yes . So much. But should I? There are a million reasons why the answer is no. All of which I’ve gone over in my head more than once since the first day I met him and realized how attractive he is. But this is different. We just opened up to each other in a way that was so raw, and it was almost as easy as breathing.
It’s just a kiss, right? We can let ourselves have this.
I hold still as he closes the distance, stopping when our lips are just inches apart. I can practically taste him already as his warm breath ricochets off my parted lips, and my pulse quickens in anticipation of his mouth finally pressing to mine—but it never does.
“Please, Lark,” he pleads on a whisper. “Please put me out of my misery. I’m fucking begging you.”
That’s all it takes for me to annihilate every rule I had when I walked into this room.
I shoot forward, smashing my lips to his in a bruising kiss. He sighs in relief, untangling our fingers so he can hold my face with both hands as if he’s afraid I’ll back away if he doesn’t. That would be the smart thing to do, but the longer we stay connected, the less likely it is.
“Mmm,” he moans from deep in his chest as his tongue runs along my bottom lip, coaxing me to open for him. As soon as I do, he plunges inside, hungrily claiming the breath from my lungs like he needs it for his own survival. Ace may not have experience when it comes to sex, but he definitely knows what he’s doing in this department. I’ve never been kissed—no, devoured— so thoroughly in my entire life, and I don’t think I ever will again. It’s needy, but not sloppy. Desperate, but not forceful. Dominant, but not controlling.
He’s fucking my mouth with his, and I never want him to stop.
“Fuck, Sweets,” he groans against my lips as he slides his hands under my ass, lifting me until I’m straddling his lap. His erection is unmistakable as I lower down on him, and I can’t believe he’s this hard just from kissing me. This should be raising a million red flags, but I can’t see any of them as I press myself against his length. Even through our clothes, I have to hold back a gasp when I feel how big he is, and my clit pulses with the need for friction. I shift my hips just barely, hoping it’ll help, but it’s not enough. I haven’t been touched by a man in over a year, and now that I am, I want more.
“Goddamn it, Lark,” he says as he squeezes his eyes shut. “You feel just like I knew you would. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the second we met, and it’s been making me crazy.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I murmur, breaking away for a second before diving back in toward his lips. My hips move along him in long strokes, sparking to life a sensation I haven’t felt in what seems like forever.
“You stop, then,” he replies against my mouth. “Because there’s no fucking way I’m going to. You can ride me like this all night. I’ll come in my pants over and over until you tell me I can’t have you anymore.”
I pull back, resting my forehead on his as we both gasp for breath. As much as I want to keep going, we need to think before we act. The hormones raging through our bodies right now have us acting on instinct, and with everything he just told me, I don’t want to make any reckless decisions.
He sighs in defeat, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into a hug. I return the embrace because I still want the connection. I just want to be sure we both know what’s at stake if this thing gets out of hand.
Leaning my head on his firm shoulder, I feel his heart pounding against me. I stay there, holding him until I feel it return to its normal rate, only speaking when I’m sure we’re both cooled off. “I didn’t want to stop,” I say, sitting up to look him in the eyes. “I just think we need to slow down. You just told me something very heavy and personal. I’m glad you trusted me with it, but I don’t want you to regret anything we said or did tonight in the morning. Plus, I literally just got legally divorced. We were separated over a year ago, but the ink isn’t even dry on the official papers. You’re the first person I’ve kissed since him, and I don’t want to rush into anything without us both being sure that we can handle the consequences.”
His brows pull in. “What consequences?” It’s not his fault that the reality of this whole situation isn’t clicking in his head. He’s a young guy with the world in the palm of his hand. He’s been through stuff, but not in a way that would make him aware of what could happen if we took this too far.
“Ace, I’m ten years older than you, divorced, unemployed, and I have no idea if I’m even going to be able to go back to school to finish my degree. I’m sure I’m nothing like those women who throw themselves at you. I don’t dress up or wear a ton of makeup. I have going-out yoga pants that I wear when I go to the fancy grocery store, and ratty ones for when I’m just going to the one on the corner by my house. I’m in bed every night by nine, and I can’t remember the last time I went out and got drunk. You literally had to bribe me to have fun. What do you think I could really offer you that you couldn’t get from some nice girl your own age who you have more in common with?”
His eyes harden as he looks at me, and suddenly, I feel like I’m in trouble. “First of all,” he says firmly, “don’t you dare act like you’re not fucking incredible. You’re smart, caring, beautiful and strong. You may feel like your future is up in the air, but it’s not. You’re about to be the best sex therapist there is, and I’ll be proud to tell the world I got to make out with you.” I roll my eyes, and he gives me a boyish grin. “And this ass?” he says, lowering his hands and squeezing. “I bet it looks just as good in your old, ratty yoga pants as it does in the fancy ones. You don’t need to get all dressed up or wear layers of makeup to look like the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen. You’re a ten, no matter what you have on. Trust me when I tell you that. I was seconds away from actually coming in my pants just now. That’s what you do to me.” He pulls me forward, and the proof slides along my center, making me stifle the moan that wants to escape from my lips.
I nod my head, leaning down and giving him one more quick kiss before climbing away and finding the floor with my feet. He adjusts his still-hard length, and I can’t hide the way my lips tip up at the corners.
“What?” he says, sitting up straight as though he isn’t embarrassed in the least.
He shouldn’t be. That thing is massive.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “You just got really hard, and all we did was kiss.” I giggle, watching as his jaw drops in fake shock.
“Wow,” he says sarcastically. “I poured my heart out to you, Sweets. I told you I don’t have much experience, and now you’re making fun of me? That’s cold.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say. “It’s just been a really long time since I’ve gotten that reaction. Actually…”—I pause to think—“I’m not sure I ever have. I feel…sexy.”
He darts his hand out, curling it around my wrist and pulling me down on top of him as we fall back onto the mattress. He rolls us over so he’s on top of me, dropping his mouth to mine once more. “That’s because you are sexy, Lark,” he says. “Tell me the name of every guy who’s ever made you feel like anything less. I just wanna talk.”
I bark a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Oh my God, no.” He goes to argue, but we’re interrupted by the quiet vibration of his phone on the nightstand, indicating that he has a new notification.
He scrambles off me, climbing up and unplugging it from the charger before swiping to the home screen like his ass is on fire. Seconds later, his eyes light up, and a bright smile stretches across his face.
“You owe me another night of wholesome fun,” he announces proudly. “I got a B on the last assignment.” Turning the phone, he shows me his grade, and I can’t stop my heart from squeezing in my chest at how happy he is.
“Nice work!” I reply excitedly before narrowing my eyes. “Is it going to be actual wholesome fun? Because I still think you had ulterior motives last time.”
He shrugs. “Thought maybe you’d want a rematch. I told you I’d be easier to beat if we weren’t wearing clothes.”
I scoff. “That monster in your shorts could probably spin for us, so we don’t have to use the app I’m positive you rigged again.”
He barks a laugh. “Look at you, making jokes. What a great way to kick things off.”
“Okay, fine,” I say, rolling my eyes in resignation. “What are we doing this time?”
“Stay with me tonight,” he replies. My brows pull in, and I go to argue, but he interrupts. “Nothing has to happen. I just want to watch a movie and cuddle. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”
I shake my head slowly, trying to think of an excuse. When I stayed last time, that was completely accidental. I was so tired while he was writing his essay that I passed out sitting up. If I stay tonight? That would be a conscious decision.
“Ace,” I say hesitantly. “It’s not a good idea. I like you, but we haven’t even known each other for two weeks. Do you really think we should be purposely sleeping in bed together? Plus, won’t you get in trouble with the team?” Hopefully, those reasons are enough to make him second-guess his request.
He reaches forward, taking my hand. “Who cares how long we’ve known each other?” he replies quietly. “I’m happy when you’re around, and I think you like being with me too. I just want to hold you, Lark. I swear I have no ulterior motives. I like the way you feel in my arms…that’s all. And no, I won’t get in trouble. They know who you are and what we’re doing. You have permission to be in my room.” His bright blue eyes connect with mine. “Please?” he pleads.
How can I say no to that? Not only is he adorable, but he’s right—I do like being with him. I can’t explain it, but I just feel different with Ace than I do with other people. Like I don’t have to have my guard up so high. It’s possible I could be reading him wrong since I don’t really know him very well, but my gut is telling me that I’m not. It’s just a movie and some cuddling. That never hurt anyone, right?
“Alright, I’ll stay,” I say, and his face lights up with excitement. I point an accusing finger his way. “But seriously. No funny business.”
He lays a dramatic hand over his heart as though I’ve wounded him. “Sweets, I’m practically virginal . What could a good boy like me possibly do with a knockout like you that would be considered funny business? ”
I raise a brow, crawling up toward the pillow. “You may not have on-field experience, but I have a feeling you’re a lot less innocent than you’re letting on right now.” I smirk at him as he reaches for the nightstand, tossing a bag of mixed candy my way before sidling up beside me and throwing an arm over my shoulder. I stifle a smile as he takes the remote and flips through the streaming app on the TV.
“What are we watching?” I ask, snuggling into him as I pop a sour rainbow bite into my mouth. I forgot how much I loved them until he fed me one the other day. Now they’re all I’ve been craving.
He scoffs playfully. “Only the best movie ever.” As soon as the opening scene begins to play, I laugh. I may not be into professional baseball that much, but I’m a sucker for good cinema when it comes to the sport.
“ Rookie of the Year ?” I question. “Ace, this isn’t even the best baseball movie ever. Now you have me concerned about your taste. You said I was the prettiest girl ever, but then you turn around and snub The Sandlot in the next breath. I don’t know if I can believe you.”
He looks down at me, shock written across his expression. “First of all, my taste is impeccable. Look at you. Secondly, maybe I was exaggerating a little, but the owner in this one reminds me of Mr. Durst. He owns the Fury, and he’s always wearing his three-piece suit with a bag of Cracker Jacks in his hand. So, I guess I’m a little biased.”
“Okay, fine,” I say on a sigh. “But next time, I’m choosing. Benny was my first crush as a little girl, and I won’t have you disrespecting him.”
He chuckles, leaning down and dropping a kiss to the top of my head. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Sweets.”