12. Immaculate Reception
12
Riggs
Ican’t help but laugh when Tessa sends me the one-finger salute. She always was cute when she was mad, and even now, that still holds true. Making a split decision, I hurry from my bedroom and rush through the house, grabbing a beer from the fridge on my way through the kitchen. Stepping outside, I twist the cap off and shove it into my pocket before pulling the door closed and plopping down into the chair I’d left out here.
Tessa stops tugging at the bale of hay on her porch and straightens, stretching out her back in a way that makes her boobs strain against the tank top she’s wearing. My mouth goes dry, and I take a quick sip of my beer even though I’d only intended it to be a prop.
Twisting around, she freezes when her eyes land on me. Lifting my beer in greeting, I shoot her a wide smile, which makes her frown grow even deeper. God, she’s so fucking adorable.
I swear, I hear her growl as she gives me her back. I don’t mind, though, because her ass looks amazing in those leggings. My dick starts to swell, and I quickly reach down to adjust it before she looks back over here and catches me with an obvious hard on.
Ignoring me completely, Tessa drags the bale of hay down her porch steps. Her ass is up in the air as she shuffles backward, and the goats start bleating maniacally as soon as they catch sight of it. Pulling a pair of scissors from her waistband, Tessa finally faces me, snapping them open and closed a few times with a warning glare before turning back to snip the twine holding the bale together.
Dropping the scissors to the ground, she pulls out fistfuls of hay and tosses them toward the nearest goats. She’s muttering angrily under her breath, and even though I can’t make out the words, I’m pretty sure she’s cursing me to the seventh circle of hell right now.
And I’m loving every second of it.
After spreading the first bale amongst the goats nearest the house, she stomps back up and repeats the process of dragging the second bale down the steps. I’d ordered the smallest bales, knowing it would be too difficult for her to maneuver a full-sized one, and it seems I did the right thing by the way she’s struggling.
I fight the urge to hop off this porch and go help her. This is my revenge for her prank, and I intend to enjoy every second of it. If only the niggling of guilt in my gut would go away.
After picking up the scissors and snipping the twine on the second bail, Tessa grabs a huge armful and heads toward the goats that haven’t been fed yet. She yelps, and before I can react, she’s going down. Setting my beer bottle aside, I hop the railing and rush toward her.
“Son of a bitch,” she growls as I skid to stop beside her prone form.
She fell face-first, and the nearest goats are nudging her with their snouts as they try to reach the hay pinned beneath her. As she slowly pushes herself up and gets to her hands and knees, I reach down to help her. Jerking away from my touch, she pushes herself to her feet and tries to murder me with her eyes.
Thank God she left the scissors on the ground over by the porch steps.
Her chest and arms are covered in goat shit, the tiny pebbles sticking to her sweaty skin. I reach out to help her brush them away, but she swats at my hands as anger grumbles in her chest. She brushes her hands down her arms with a shiver of revulsion, then shoots me one last death glare before spinning on a heel and stomping back toward her porch.
I brace myself for a stabbing attempt, but she marches right past the scissors glinting in the afternoon sun, up the steps, and into the house, slamming the door forcefully behind her. I stare at the door for several beats, but when it doesn’t reopen, I heave a sigh and look around.
Heading toward what’s left of the second bale of hay, I pick up the whole thing and carry it to the goats who’ve yet to be fed. Setting it down on the grass, I pluck fistfuls from the bale and toss them around, making sure every goat gets its share.
Then I grab the stack of buckets that were stashed behind the bales on Tessa’s porch and, using the spigot on the side of her house, fill each one before carrying them out to spread them among the animals. Once I’m certain every one of them has enough food and access to water, I pick up Tessa’s scissors and place them on her porch railing.
Heading back to my place, I pick up my beer bottle and drain it. I watch for movement behind Tessa’s blinds, but my vision slowly goes unfocused as I replay that whole scene over in my mind. She was pissed at me, no doubt about it. But her anger doesn’t affect me the way I would’ve expected it to.
Anger is an emotion, and any emotion from her is better than staunch silence, or even worse, indifference. Plus, she’s fucking cute as hell when she’s mad. Add to that the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see her nipples straining against her shirt when she stretched…
Well, I’m in need of a shower. And not just because of the hay and goat shit.
Taking one last glance at Tessa’s house, I head inside. Dropping the now-empty beer bottle into the trash, I make a beeline for my bathroom. Turning on the shower, I give it a moment to warm up while I strip out of my dirty clothes.
Images of Tessa flash through my mind as I step under the warm spray, and I grab some soap to wash my hands and arms before reaching down with slick, sudsy fingers to grip my hard, throbbing cock. Bracing my other hand against the shower wall to steady myself, I stroke my length, groaning quietly as I imagine its Tessa’s hand instead of my own.
I hear her sweet voice in the white noise created by the running water. It tells me how big and hard I am. How much she loves touching me. How badly she wants to taste me.
My mind conjures her before me, and my hand picks up the pace as I imagine her dropping to her knees and taking me into her sweet, hot mouth. I swipe my thumb over the tip of my cock, imagining its Tessa’s tongue, and my balls tighten and explode without warning.
I grunt through my release, my fingers tightening as my hand slows into long, drawn-out strokes. When I finally release my cock, I slap my hand against the wall next to the other one and drop my head, letting the warm spray beat against the back of my neck and shoulders.
“Holy shit,” I breathe as my muscles slowly turn into post-orgasmic jelly.
Forcing myself upright, I quickly wash my hair and the rest of my body before rinsing off. Turning off the water, I step out of the shower and grab a clean towel from the rack on the wall. Wrapping it around my waist, I stumble out into the bedroom and collapse on my bed. My sheets are getting soaked, but I don’t give a shit.
I close my eyes and breathe deep as memories flood my mind like a replay of an immaculate reception on the jumbotron during the big game.
Twelve years ago…
Tessa’s lips are warm and soft against mine, and unable to resist, I brush my tongue over them in a gentle, probing lick. She parts them immediately, a soft moan vibrating in her chest as my tongue licks at hers.
Slender fingers slide into my hair, curling into a fist and tugging, trying to bring me closer as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. I silently curse the center console between us, the late hour, and the fact that we’re parked on the street in front of her house and her parents could come out and snatch her away from me at any second.
From our very first slightly awkward kiss, which she readily admitted was her first, ever, I’ve been addicted to the taste of her. To the feel of her mouth on mine, her kisses growing from timid to demanding over the last few weeks.
Two weeks ago, she pushed my hand under her shirt and sent me running straight for second base. The little sounds she made as I played with her nipple through her bra had me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.
Last weekend, I took it a step further, pulling that gorgeous tit free of her lacy bra. Just the sight of it had me panting like a fucking virgin, and when I leaned over and sucked it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hard, pebbled nipple, Tessa’s long animalistic groan nearly had me coming in my pants.
As if she senses my thoughts, Tessa’s hand pulls my head back, breaking off our kiss. We maintain constant eye contact, but I can see her free hand yanking up her shirt in my peripheral vision. My heart starts to pound against my ribs, and I finally break my gaze away from hers and look down as she pinches the clasp between her breasts.
“You wore this for me?” I whisper using a gentle fingertip to push the material away from her breasts, baring them to my hungry gaze.
“I did,” she replies, followed by a sharp intake of breath as my fingertip traces circles over the plump flesh that grow smaller with each pass, closing in on the nipple in the center.
“Tell me what you want, Tessa,” I say, my tongue darting out to wet my lips.
“Lick them. Suck them,” she breathes without hesitation.
It’s my turn to inhale sharply. The fact that she answered me so confidently and without pause proves she trusts me, implicitly. She’s not embarrassed by the things I do to her, the things we do together.
“Please, Riggs,” she pleads, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I twist in my seat, bringing my knee beneath me so I can bend over her. Her hot, heavy breaths fan against my hair as I lick one nipple, then the other, back and forth until she’s writhing beneath me. I part my lips over one nipple, sucking as much of her flesh into my mouth as I can before flicking the tip of my tongue against the sensitive nub.
Tessa’s hips buck upward, and the hand I have braced on her thigh slides upward with the motion, just under the hem of her skirt. I feel her tense beneath me, and I immediately release her breast from my mouth to apologize.
“Sorry. Accident,” I pant out, moving my hand back toward her knee.
Her fingers close around my wrist, stopping my hand’s retreat and pulling it back up her thigh. I meet her eyes, their usual bright blue dark with passion. Tilting my hand, I angle it so my fingertips slide up the smooth skin of her inner thigh. She sucks in a shaky breath and holds it, and I freeze.
“Are you sure, Tessa?” I ask.
Her head bobs quickly, and her hand tugs at my wrist. I let my hand slide closer, stopping as my fingers brush over the edge of her underwear. Tessa groans in frustration when I refuse to go any further, and fuck, I want to touch her so God damn badly, but I want to make sure I do it right. I want to make sure she enjoys every second of this.
“Have you ever had an orgasm?” I ask her before pressing my lips to her neck and sucking gently.
“N-no,” she stutters, and I pull back to look into her eyes.
“You don’t touch yourself?” I ask, and she shakes her head as color blooms on her cheeks, so bright I can see it in the dark interior of the car.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my cock feeling like it might explode from the amount of blood rushing into it right now.
She’s given me all of her firsts. Every single fucking one of them.
And I’m going to make damn sure this is a first she’ll never forget.
“Okay,” I say, peppering her neck and chest with light kisses. “I need you to tell me if I do something that makes you uncomfortable. Talk to me, Tessa. Tell me more or less, harder or softer, faster or slower.”
“Okay,” she replies, bobbing her head quickly again.
I press a hot kiss to her lips as I massage her inner thigh, letting my fingertips trail over the soft cotton covering her slit. She gasps into my mouth with each pass, and I somehow manage to keep my movements controlled and light when all I want to do is rip her underwear aside and push my finger into her to see how tight and hot she is.
Her underwear quickly grow wet, and she must feel it because she stiffens and tries to push her knees together. Breaking off our kiss, I still the movements of my hand and meet her gaze.
“That’s supposed to happen,” I say softly. “It’s your body’s way of preparing for what comes next. Do you want me to stop?”
She stares at me for a long moment, then slowly shakes her head as her legs fall open. I kiss her deeply, then drop my mouth back to her breasts, kissing and licking her flesh. And as I suck one pert nipple into my mouth, I push the material of her underwear aside and touch her bare, slick flesh.
Tessa bucks, moaning, “Oh, God.”
My finger drags through her slit, pulling moisture up to her clit. I swirl my tongue around her nipple in time with the movements of my fingertips. Tessa’s making all kinds of sexy noises, her body writhing with need.
I lick my way to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the first. I open my eyes and see the windows are fogged up. I’m sure anyone who looked would know exactly what we’re doing in here, but there’s no fucking way I’m stopping.
Not until Tessa comes.
“Riggs,” she gasps, her body tensing.
“Let it happen,” I say, scraping my teeth over her nipple lightly as I rub her clit faster. “Just let go, Tessa.”
I suck at her breast as her panting breaths grow faster and faster. Her hips lift off the seat, then drop, then lift again as if her body instinctually knows the rhythm needed to reach the pinnacle of release.
“Harder, Riggs. Faster,” she gasps, and I quickly comply, my own ragged breaths ripping up my throat.
Suddenly she freezes, a keening wail slipping through her lips. I keep moving, keep sucking, drawing her release out as long as possible, and hearing Tessa chant my name so reverently as she shivers through it is like music to my ears.
Finally, she melts into her seat. I pull my hand free, and without a fucking thought, I push my fingers into my mouth and suck them. Tessa gasps, and I catch her eye as I pull the digits from my mouth and smile.
“Next time,” she says, pulling her shirt down as her eyes stay locked on mine, “I want to touch you, too.”
My breath catches in my throat as I imagine her hot little hand stroking my aching cock. I fall back into my seat, reaching down to adjust myself without embarrassment. I want her to know what she does to me. How fucking sexy she is.
Her eyes follow the movement, and fuck if her tongue doesn’t dart out to lick her lips as she watches me grip my cock through my jeans. Then she looks back into my eyes and grins.
God damn. I might fucking love this girl.