15
Blake
Freshly showered, with damp curls clinging to my ears in the warm summer evening air, I stroll through the pedestrian court, a bag of food swinging from my finger and a ridiculous spring in my step.
After being officially invited to join Lexi tonight in the lab, I can’t help but relish the difference just a week of a little push and pull has made. When Lexi tugs, I come running, but when it starts to feel like she’s pulling away, I extend my rope a little and give her space.
It’s a delicate game, and I know it seems childish to make it this complicated, but Lexi Winslow isn’t the kind of woman you chase without a plan. Just like in football, the right plays at the right times can make all the difference, and trick plays and strategizing are there for a reason.
“Yo, Boden!” a voice yells from the other side of the court, and I squint to see who it is as they jog across the space. Dark hair, fresh sweats, and a big-ass gold chain around his neck give him away, so I smile as my incoming freshman teammate Ron Zimmerman, who’ll be playing wide receiver, makes his quick approach.
“Hey, Ron. What’s up, man?”
We exchange a quick slap of our hands with a twist and snap, and he adjusts his flat-billed hat off and back onto his head. “Not much. Just heading over to that Thai place by Frat Row to get some chow. You wanna come? Some of the other guys are meeting me there.”
“No, thanks.” I hold up the bag of food as evidence of my conflict of interest and explain, “I’m already running late to meet a friend for dinner at their place.”
It’s a bundle of small white lies, but I don’t feel bad since none of them holds any malice. My goal is to ensure Ron doesn’t feel rejected, while at the same time knowing I’m headed somewhere—so he doesn’t feel like we can chitchat forever.
“A friend, huh?” he asks with a wag of his eyebrows. “I’ve heard legend about you with the female friends, dude. I can only dream of being as successful in my college career,” he teases, his eyes reminiscent of an eager puppy. Which, for all intents and purposes, is exactly what he is.
All the single guys who come into the atmosphere of college sports are like toddlers in a candy store for at least the first two months. They’re not used to getting so much easy attention, and they gobble it up until they’re bloated.
“Nah, man. Not like that this time. Just meeting a friend.” I laugh, rejecting the idea that I’m going to get some pussy, just in case he happens to see me headed into the lab. I know Lexi isn’t in the place to go spreading that shit everywhere, and even if she were, I’m not eager to have people cheapening whatever is happening between us.
I really like her, new sexual escapades completely aside. I’m not just spinning wheels here. I’m invested.
“Oh, gotcha.” Ron chuckles, a sizzle of misplaced understanding in his cockiness. “Next time, then.”
I nod. “Catch you later.”
Ron takes off again, looking back to wave a little before crossing between the theater and the stadium and, eventually, crossing Amsterdam Avenue. With the coast clear, I pull open the door to Ferris and step inside, letting the darkness overwhelm me.
The trek through the halls feels like a victory lap, compared to last time. I stride confidently, turning corners with the precision of someone who’s been here before. Because I have. No more wandering the labyrinth like an amateur; I’m a seasoned pro now.
What I don’t expect is to come face-to-door with someone exiting the lab at the exact moment I’m leaning in to peer through the small sidelight window of said door. It bumps me squarely in the forehead, and I stumble back, rubbing the spot as my vision momentarily blurs.
“Oh my God!” the girl exclaims, stepping out and practically tripping over herself to apologize. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t expecting anyone on the other side because, well…there’s never anyone on the other side.” Her expression quickly morphs into suspicion. “Wait. Who are you? And what are you doing here?”
Before I can muster a reply—possibly something dumb like, Would you believe I’m the new janitor? —Lexi’s voice cuts through like a lifeline.
“He’s here for me, Ginger. Delivering food for my overnight session.”
Ginger’s suspicion evaporates instantly. “Oh, cool. All right, Lex. Catch you later!” She turns to me, flashing a quick wave and smile. “Sorry again for the bump.”
A small part of my ego is wounded by the fact that she clearly doesn’t recognize me, despite my star quarterback status, but the vast majority is thankful. I guess most of the people who spend their lives in the lab—aside from those whose dads own professional teams—don’t know or care much about football. “No problem.”
As soon as Ginger disappears down the hall, I step inside, adopting Lexi’s lie with full commitment. “Lexi Winslow, is it? Your food delivery has arrived.”
“Shut up,” she scoffs, standing to greet me with a quick hug. It’s casual, sure, but it’s enough to short-circuit my brain for a solid three seconds. She smells faintly of flowers, fruit, and something sweet like honey—probably from yogurt and granola, her usual morning choice. I know this because I notice things about Lexi. Too many things.
When she pulls back, she smooths her shirt and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I watch the motion, captivated, but choose not to comment.
“Are you right in the middle of something? Or do you want to eat now? Either way is probably fine since I brought tacos, and they wrap them in forty-seven layers of foil. Time isn’t an issue. These babies could probably survive a nuclear fallout under all that aluminum.”
Her face lights up. “The ones from B Street Grill?”
“Yep.” I grin. “Good call?”
“Well, yes, but only if you got chicken,” she says, raising a brow.
“I got chicken, beef, steak, and shrimp. You can pick your favorite.”
She rubs her hands together and licks her lips, and it takes everything in me not to freak her out by leaning down for a casual kiss on the mouth. Sure, physically, we’re past a single, quick kiss, but mentally, I know Lexi still sees our arrangement as much more formal than that.
“Choices,” she says. “Always choices. I swear, you’re better than DoorDash.”
I laugh, loud and unrestrained, and her smirk tells me she’s satisfied with her joke’s success.
Poking at her stomach, I move her back toward her chair and set the bag of tacos on the desk beside her computer. “I don’t think DoorDash has orgasms on the menu.”
“No,” she agrees, settling into her seat. “Not the one I use. But really, thanks for bringing me dinner. Ninety percent of the time I’m in here, I completely forget to eat.”
I shrug. “No problem. I like taking care of you.”
Lexi stills for a moment before turning to her computer and busying herself, and I make light work of finding all the chicken tacos first. If she wants to ignore my last remark, I will too.
For now.
“What has you here all hours today?” I ask instead, finding a topic I’m confident won’t make her uncomfortable. “What are you working on?”
She glances from the computer to me, clicking through a few things before closing it out. “I was helping Ginger with something on her dissertation earlier, and that led to a thought on my own. I was running a few tests on some of my data inputs to see if it would change the algorithm in my test app for my dissertation.”
I snort. “Oh, is that all?”
“Hey, you asked,” she says warmly, pulling her shirt down again to meet her jeans in the front and taking a taco from my outstretched hand.
“I know. And I’m interested. It just feels like you’re speaking Chinese half the time when you explain it. Normally, I could really wow a woman with some unknown football jargon, but I don’t think I have a leg up on that one either.”
“Listen, if you’re going to spend time with the smartest person in the room, you’re going to feel a little dumb sometimes.”
“Ha! Wow!” I hoot. “Really putting it all out there tonight, huh?”
She winks, and unable to resist anymore, I snag her hand full of taco on the way to her mouth, pull it out of the way, and touch my lips to hers. She startles, but she chases me when I pull away, so all in all, I’d say the move is a success.
“I like dating the smart girl,” I assure her while our lips still touch.
She pulls back and searches my eyes with her own. “Are we dating?”
I shrug. “We aren’t not dating, that’s for sure. Call it whatever you need to, I guess, but I plan to get a little one-on-one time with your pussy after we eat.”
“Blake!”
“What, Lex? You don’t like that word? Is there something else you’d rather I call it?”
“No,” she says quietly. “Pussy is fine.”
I laugh, sitting back in my seat and pulling a taco off the table for my own consumption. “Well, okay, then. There you have it. First, I’ll eat this taco, and then I’ll eat yours. Sound like a good plan?”
A soft laugh escapes Lexi as she shakes her head, but then she nods. Not just any nod either. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and it feels like the kind of victory that would make a touchdown celebration look subdued.
I lean back, taking a bite of my taco and letting the moment stretch, the grin tugging at my lips impossible to suppress. Cheers to motherfucking progress. For the first time, it feels like I’m not just running plays—I’m actually moving the chains.
In a quiet room filled with beakers, pipettes, and shiny silver hoods, I lean Lexi back on the solid black top of one of the bar-height table desks, skimming my fingers along the soft skin of her exposed side as I do.
I offered to relocate from Ferris to my apartment or hers, but Lexi was adamant we use one of the chemistry labs in the Caulder building. According to her, chemistry majors don’t share the relentless dedication of computer science majors, and their lab would be a ghost town all night.
Plus, she said. Isn’t sneaking around supposed to make things even more exciting?
The muffled sound of her soft panting whispers through my ears and migrates straight to my dick, hardening the length of it in my shorts and making a bid to rip right through the material like a fucking action hero.
But tonight isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about my dick. Tonight is about exploring Lexi’s sexuality in all the safest ways possible for both her and me as we navigate the budding possibility of an us.
“Blake,” she whispers into the darkness as I rub at the skin of her thighs with my hands, grazing the bikini line of her black cotton panties each time I do.
“Easy, Lex,” I comfort as her back arches off the cold surface beneath her. “I’m getting there, I swear.”
She sighs and I smile, the wickedness of the curve of my mouth extending straight into my tongue as I lick one long line over the material of her panties.
Her back spasms again, and I reach up to calm it, pressing a warm hand into her bare stomach. Gently, I tug her underwear off her hips, Lexi helping as I drag them over her ass and then down her legs to let them drop to the tile floor below. Kneeling in front of her, I pull her legs over my shoulders and let them rest there, closing my mouth over the heat of her sweet center and sucking.
“Oh my God,” she cries, her voice stilted only by the failing effort to be quiet.
Fuck yes, to the sound of pleasure. I feel on top of the world.
She tastes better than I even imagined, and since the moment I met her, I’ve fucking imagined. Fruity and fresh and so fucking warm, it’s like her mouth on steroids, and I know with absolute certainty, if she’d let me, I’d stay here all night.
I moan right against her, swirling at her clit before circling and sucking at her center until the bow of her back rivals the curve of my mouth. “Lex,” I say, removing my mouth only briefly to get her attention and pull her eyes to mine.
We hold eye contact while I consume her entirely. Her eyes flutter and threaten to fold, but I reach up and grab her hand, entwining our fingers and willing her to stay with me through the peak—to stay with me until she can’t anymore.
I lick and tease and suck, latching on to the bud and flicking it with my tongue in the most intense of vibrations. Her body tenses, twists, and turns, until finally, the dam breaks, flooding my mouth with the greatest surge of Lexi Winslow’s pleasure.
And just like that, I’ll never, ever be the same.
Thankfully, from the look in her perfect, sultry blue eyes, neither will she.