Chapter 15Nick
Chapter 15
Nick
OCTOBER | Tarot: XII. Suspended Person
“So where are you in school?”
A pretty blonde woman sat across from me, taking a sip from her cappuccino. Her blonde wasn’t as pretty as Annie’s. It didn’t quite match her skin tone. Probably wasn’t natural, but that’s her prerogative. But she had a dazzling bright smile, and blue doe eyes that made me feel all warm and nice. She was a sorority sister, she’d already told me, doing her senior year of a communications degree. I had a game later that evening and was squeezing in a coffee date between practice and the game. I’d met Britta on a dating app and was trying out coffee dates rather than dinner dates. Less commitment. More time to feel for chemistry. No pressure to go to bed since it was the middle of the day.
“I’m actually not.”
“Oh.” Her disappointment was quite apparent.
“I play hockey.”
She tilted her head. “Like field hockey or ice hockey?”
I smirked. “Ice.”
“That’s cool. But not for UCLA?”
“Uh, no. The Princes, actually.”
Recognition was slow moving over her. “Oh! The NHL team?”
“The very same,” I said wryly.
There it was: the moment she realized I might be made of money. Her blue eyes glowed, like a cheetah setting sights on its prey. “Oh, so you’re, like, famous.”
I shrugged. “Not really. I don’t get recognized much.”
She squinted. “Do you play games though?”
“Most, yeah.”
“Wow. Huh. Didn’t see that coming,” she said. “Do you like it?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Hard to date, though.”
She was handling it well, considering. “You must be on the road a lot.”
“Kinda, yeah.” I was the world’s most boring conversation partner at this point, but it didn’t matter. She’d gotten what she came for. “Actually, I’ve got a game tonight. I’ll probably have to get going soon. I like to take a nap before the game.”
She cocked her head to the side, a slow grin creeping over her face. “I could help with that.”
Damn. That was forward. But if I ever wanted to get better with women, I had to try. And she was certainly not the worst person I’d ever met. Pretty. Handling the fame and money thing decently well. And here she was, willing and offering. At least, I thought she was?
Fuck, fuck, what do I do? Which of my teammates should I pretend to be to have the confidence to see this through? Mikey? No. Too wild. Leroy? Also far too wild. Stelle? Yes, Stelle. He was smooth while still being humble. And sane.
“Shall we?” I offered.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
Britta was on her knees, my cock in her mouth as I sat back on my couch. Things had escalated quickly, but I wasn’t complaining. I usually like to feel a little more connected to my partners when I hook up.
What am I saying ‘usually’? I’d been with two people: Shane and Annie. If you consider what Annie and I did enough to count. What I hated the most about my current situation was that I had to think of Annie while Britta had her hand down my pants. It’s no slight to Britta. She was very beautiful, but I had more emotional connection to Annie, and I need emotional connection to feel good physically.
I hated that I was still thinking about Annie after what she did to me, but I tried to not judge myself and just get in the zone.
“I want to take care of you,” I said. Britta smiled around my dick and kept going.
“Please, Annie,” I said.
She spluttered and pulled off. “It’s Britta.”
“Britta. Britta. I’m so sorry, Britta. Why don’t you sit?”
She sat next to me, her hand still working on my cock while I kissed her. Damn, she was good at that. I unbuttoned her jeans and unzipped them, a tiny bit of sheer lace visible.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” she sighed. Okay, I was off to a good start. Consent, check. She raised her hips and slid her pants off, bunching them at the end of the couch. We lay down, me on my side and her on her back on the couch. Her kisses were a little bitey and aggressive, not tender or sweet. It was a little much, but again, she was really good with her hand.
And it’s not like I knew what the hell I was doing.
“You’re really good at that,” I said. She hummed and grinned up at me. I steadied my shaking hand against her stomach, sliding my fingers under the band of her panties. I coasted my middle finger down her pussy, which was completely bare and slippery wet. The guys appeared in my head like a set of guardian angels, telling me to dirty talk her. “So wet, Britta.”
She melted, tipping her hips up into my hand. It all felt so good but I wasn’t quite sure what I was touching. Where was the clit exactly? I’d looked at a diagram but I’d never identified it in the flesh, and definitely not by feel. But if I moved down, she wouldn’t be able to stroke me anymore, and that would be a real loss. I couldn’t go down there and give her a gynecology exam. I needed to do my best to figure it out.
I pushed my fingers deeper to her moan, feeling different textures and spaces. My fingers were super wet, slipping through her easily. I found a hole and pressed my fingers in. She yelped and jumped away from me.
“What the fuck! That’s my asshole!” she shrieked. “I didn’t sign up for ass stuff!”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Britta, oh fuck, it was an accident. I’d never do that without your consent. I just hit the wrong spot, I swear. You were just so smooth down there and I couldn’t see what I was doing—”
She held up her hands and stood, reaching for her jeans. “Don’t worry. You won’t be doing anything else with me.”
“Britta, I’m so sorry. I’m not that kind of guy, I promise. I was trying to make you feel good!”
“Yeah, well my ass isn’t the ticket to me feeling good,” she sniffed. “Have a nice nap, asshole.”
She stalked to my front door and was gone.
There I sat with my pants down, a half-hard dick, and a different blonde woman on my mind.