Chapter Eighteen Winning
“Three to one. One more game in this series.” King sighs and flexes his hand.
“And two hundred autographs, Mr. All-Star. I’m surprised you have any voice left. How many videos did you post?”
“Oh. I don’t know. Twenty?”
“I stopped watching after the third one so I could be in the moment. I’ll watch the rest later, but I glanced at a few. My phone was going insane with comment notifications. People loved them.”
“Good.”
“I loved them.” I put the car into drive once King is finally crammed into the passenger seat. “You want to go to Jax Alley with the rest of the team?”
“No. I... I think I’d rather go somewhere with you. This wasn’t much of a date, and we have a game on Sunday, then the team is in Cleveland, then back here... It’d probably be hard to get into a routine with someone who was gone half the week, every other week, from October to April, huh?”
I laugh. “Not for someone who grew up like I did. Family doesn’t mean you have to be in the same room all the time.”
“The good thing is that our schedule rotates between the same ten teams for most of the season, until we get to the playoffs. If we get to the playoffs. So I’d mostly be on the East Coast. You know.
If I have another season. And right now I don’t have to go to the away games.
I need to be here, with you. I mean, here for my physical therapy appointments. ”
We wait at the intersection in a line of stadium traffic. “I think partners have to learn to put up with things like that. It’s all about whether they can handle the routine.”
King nods, then swallows. I can hear the clicking in his throat. “My routine might change. I want it to change in some ways, I mean, I want time for important things, like helping at Hilltop Home, and making time for you. Taking the dogs to the park.” King’s tense face turns dreamy.
“Look, as someone who moved around a lot, had to get used to new towns, new schools, and then working in the medical field—you learn to adapt. I’m a flexible person.”
“I know. I’m grateful.”
We both say nothing more, pretending our brains aren’t going to naughty places where “flexible” means something physical.
In my case, being sprawled on a bed, bent into a semi-circle with one leg thrown over King’s shoulder, while shamelessly riding his hand until a fountain erupts on his face and chest.
“I’m sorry if I said too much. Earlier. Or in the video.”
“I loved what you said. I loved the video,” I blurt. “I love... I love all these ideas, but I think we need to go slower. Get into the routine you’re going to have, and see if I fit. Keep building on the way.”
“Okay!” King practically bounces in his seat. “That’s awesome! Oh my God, that’s the best win, even knowing you want this to work... Oh. Wow. I feel like someone lifted a barbell off my chest. So. It’s late. Home?”
“Home? My place?”
One day it could be his place, too. Or I could move in with him. His house is bigger. The yard is bigger. It’s right in the center of town, which is so convenient, so close to the park and the Night Market.
My thoughts detour from the road, and I have to force them back.
“I’d love to go back to your place. I have clothes in my bag. I always do, it’s my gear bag. I wasn’t presuming.”
“I know you weren’t. That’s another thing I love about you,” I whisper, and lean over to kiss him when the light turns red.
“Shouldn’t we do something to celebrate?” Ingrid asks when I nuzzle her neck.
The dogs have been walked and played with. Snacks have been had.
“This is my favorite kind of celebration,” I whisper, hands sinking into her hoodie, pulling her close as we sit on her couch.
A bad eighties horror-comedy is on in the background, and Ingrid’s put up some Halloween decorations since I was here last.
“Will you go to the Halloween Ball at White Pines with me?” I suddenly ask.
“A ball?”
“Yes, a ball. Well, a ball-slash-costume party-slash-Halloween party. It’s catered, and there’s cake and music... Dancing. I mean, you can dance. I can hobble.”
“Or we could skip the party,” Ingrid whispers, clicking off the television. “Have our own little costume party right here...”
“We could also skip the costumes,” I slide my arm around her, surprised when she pivots and sits on my lap, her hands stroking down my face.
“And just move on to the tricks and treats?”
My hands slip from the exterior of her hoodie to under it, working my way up to fondle her breasts, heavy in my hands with hard nipples. “I have all the treats I want right here. What’s the trick?”
“How something this big,” Ingrid pauses to free my hard erection from the confines of my sweatpants and boxers, “is supposed to fit into something so small?”
“We could always practice.”
“Not until next weekend,” Ingrid reminds me. “You’re healing faster than they thought. Don’t want to give you a setback.”
I remember how tight her pussy was as it clamped around my fingers, how she looked, all stretched across my spread fingers, my face between her legs so I could devour and discover every inch. “I’m willing to risk it,” I rasp, undoing her bra catches.
“Yeah, but I love you too much to let you hurt yourself when we have other things we can do instead,” Ingrid says before sealing my mouth with a kiss.
Wait. Did she say that she loves me too much? Loves me? At all?
In my excitement, I forget my own strength. My hands, which had moved to clutch the waistband of her velvety-soft leggings, suddenly twist and pull, and her pants are in two halves. “Oh! Oh, shit. I’ll buy you new ones.”
“Yes, you will.” But she doesn’t seem mad. She hops up and shimmies free of her leggings (what’s left of them) and her panties, then hops back onto my lap.
Her soft, golden brown curls tickle the tip of my already leaking cock as she presses closer to my chest this time.
“Not yet?” I repeat.
“Not yet. Not... Not all the way. With other girls—”
“I don’t want to think about them anymore. Or ever again.” I shake my head and cup her cheek, bringing her forehead to mine. “I only want to think about you.”
“But when you were with other girls in the past, and they didn’t drink the tea...”
“Oh. Not much went in. Just the tip, or just mouths and hands.”
Ingrid nods, and she sways, bumping her soaking heat to my tip. I arch up and feel myself sinking into her slickness. I take hold of my cock and drag the tip back and forth across her clit, rubbing us together until we’re both moaning.
“But the tip does fit? Especially if we’ve been practicing?” Her hand finds mine, and she lifts my fingers to her lips.
My God, it’s something I didn’t even know I wanted or liked, but her mouth wraps around my forefinger and sucks while she stares into my eyes. One finger. Then two. Her tongue flicks the very tips, and her mouth closes around me, pursed lips like a promise of bliss.
“Stop that, or I’m going to come right now.” I shift, almost whimpering.
“I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”
I grab her hips and hold her still, pushing my tip more firmly against her. “Why don’t we see if we need to practice more?” I whisper.
Ingrid moans her assent, hips sinking slowly, my crown slathered in her juice. When I stop sliding through her folds and find the tightest, narrowest opening, I wait, letting her move, letting her set the pace.
Ishould wait. Might hurt his leg. Might hurt me. Doesn’t matter. Just a little. Just for a minute...
Adrenaline races through me. This is forbidden, pure desire.
Love. I’ve never had it. Always imagined it.
No one told me it would feel this good. To have one of his hands on my hip, and his mouth now fastened around my breast, sucking my nipple, his tongue teasing it in time with the friction of his fingers as he circles on my clit.
My hand tangles with his, stroking his thickness, pressing him to my center—and then screeching in surprise when he pops in.
The noises we make aren’t words, but they say so much.
Tight.
Stretching.
Oh, fuck, so good.
“Is that enough?” I whisper through clenched teeth.
“More than enough. All of you is enough, any of you is enough,” King rasps, and his head falls back.
Just the crown of his cock is enough, but he gives me more, just a little, letting me move up and down at my pace.
And once I’m used to the way he stretches me, molds himself inside of me, filling every inch...I’m gone.
I forget not to jostle his knee, I forget that we’re supposed to take it easy.
All I know is that his fingers rub my clit from the outside and his cock smashes the spongy tissue inside, and there’s no escape from the pleasure.
It chases me. I chase it, rocking and writhing on him, not caring what I look like.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, and my knees smash against his hips.
“Wait until I’m better. I’ll do all the work. You’ll just get to lie there and let me fuck that beautiful pussy the way you deserve.”
“You don’t want me riding you?” I tease in a breathless voice.
“Are you insane? I would wear this brace for the rest of my life if it meant you would ride me even once. But you deserve to be spoiled. Worshipped.”
“Well, you’re the patient. I’m the physical therapist. Sort of. You sit back and let me do the work this time.”
She spoils me. Rides me hard and fast, turning my lap into a lake of our juices, turning me into a snarling, grunting beast that aches to shove himself deeper inside of her straining pussy.
“I’m going to come,” I warn. “You have to come first.”
“Just a little—”
“I want to know if you can squirt while taking my cock. Want to feel what your pussy does when you’re stuffed full of me,” I hiss, because it’s true, and because it turns her on. I like knowing that she likes my words, not just my body. That she more than likes me. Loves me.
“Never made love before you,” I tell her. “Never realized it was so good when you loved someone.”
“King. King!” Her breathless sounds take form.
My name.
Her walls trap me, milk me, spasming and jumping against me.
It’s divine. Irresistible.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, and my cock twitches, sending streams of cum inside of her, adding another layer to the mess we’ve made as I try to dislodge.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Ingrid pants, collapsing on me.
“It happened so fast...”
“I loved it.”
I know she did. Dirty thoughts combined with the purest thoughts.
.. “I want every time to be like that,” I say, rocking her as her cheek rests on my forehead.
“Where I feel you exploding like that on me, but knowing why. Knowing it’s because you like that I love you.
That’s what makes my girl come so hard, isn’t it? ”
“You’re going to make me come again, you keep talking like that.”
“My knee isn’t working, but there’s nothing wrong with my mouth, sweetheart.” I lick my lips. “Again?”
Ingrid giggles. “Insatiable.”
I tap my tusks. “Call me a horny little monster.”
“Those are tusks, not horns, and there’s nothing little about you.”
I buck my hips, and she moans. “You like that, right?” Another nuzzle. A nip. “Right?
Another giggle. I want to lock those sounds in my memory forever and never let them go. “Yeah, I do.”