Chapter 17
Play TAPESTRY by Time Is Dead
The next afternoon I find myself sitting in the passenger seat of Saint’s car.
He had fallen asleep with me on the phone last night, sharing in my sadness.
He had done his best to comfort me, filling me with all the positive things about Dad being home.
When that didn’t work, he suggested a field trip.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I giggle as I look over to him. A cigarette hangs from his plump lips, the tip burning red as he inhales.
With the stick of tobacco hanging between his teeth, he smiles at me. “Bowling.”
“What?” I twist my body towards him. The seatbelt digs into my shoulder, but it's the least of my concerns. “I hate bowling!”
Saint rolls his eyes, plucking his nasty habit out of his mouth. “Why?”
“I’m awful at it!” I huff, dramatically crossing my arms across my chest.
The steering glides underneath his grip as he allows the truck to pull itself forward. “So am I, so we can be awful together.” He grins at me and the butterflies in my stomach lose control. It’s as if they had all been resting in their cocoons, waiting for the perfect moment to set themselves free.
“Fine.” I grumble out. “But if I win, you quit smoking.”
His eyebrows raise with surprise as a gravelly laugh slips its way out, carrying smoke with it. “What do I get if I win?”
His hand reaches over, gently stroking against my thigh while I debate on the answer. Each touch sets my skin on fire. “What do you want?”
Saint’s strokes pause and his hand creeps over to the middle of my legs. “This,” he whispers, gently pushing against my pussy.
My desire for him has me spreading my legs further apart, one knee touching the center console, the other resting against the door. “You don’t need to win for that.”
A pleasant “mmm” rumbles through his chest as he drives into the parking lot.
A vintage sign reading ‘Sweetheart Lanes’ hangs above the door.
The light pink lighting glows on the off white building.
The colors remind me of the vivid peach I had bitten into my first full day back home.
The cozy memories wrap around me, holding on to me tightly as Saint walks around the truck to open my door.
“Then how about this?” He questions as he picks me up from where I was sitting. His fingers press against my back entrance as he eyes me curiously.
A shutter rolls through me at his touch. The idea had never once crossed my mind, and the thought of his pierced length entering there sounds so foreign. “If you win by a landslide!”
He sets me down and we spend a moment taking each other in. Both of our goofy grins would perfectly align if they were placed side by side. Everything about this man is so perfect to me.
“Deal?” He questions, jutting out his hand for me to shake. He sounds more serious than ever and the idea of taking this little game to that level has my adrenaline boosting.
My hand firmly shakes his back and I do my best to give him a stern look. “Deal.”
The interior of the bowling alley looks like it has never heard of the word ‘renovation.’ A light blue carpet with colorful little squiggles takes up the majority of space, with cheap wood paneling bordering the actual lanes.
Bright fluorescent lights shine off of the waxed flooring as it patiently waits to be used.
The teenage attendant looks half asleep as we walk up to him.
“How many players?” He asks, sounding as if he’d rather be anywhere else. His eyes stay glued to the video playing on his phone.
“Thirty seven!” Saint announces with an absurd amount of confidence. I do my best to stifle the chuckle as the poor kid's eyes bulge out from his head.
“No, I'm just kidding. Just two.” The sense of relief in the teen is visible as the stress drops from his shoulders. He wipes his forehead and types something into the little machine.
“Shoe size?”
Saint peers over at me, giving me the space to answer first. “Size five please.” My voice comes out light, a sad attempt to keep the humor buried.
“And a size eleven.” Saint adds on.
Our size difference leaves me blushing as the kid walks off to grab the shoes. He’s got almost a foot on me in size, and if I had to guess I’d say he weighs close to double what I do. It makes my heart swoon.
“What’s got you smiling?” He pokes.
My hands instantly cover my face as I answer, “you could literally tear me apart. And something’s got to be wrong with me because I think that’s so hot.”
He hums as he takes me in. “Would you like that, Nova?” Saint leans in until he’s able to whisper in my ear. “I could devour you.”
I bite my lip to keep any sounds of pleasure from escaping. My thighs clench together, attempting to appease the need growing between them. A pulsing sensation forms in my clit. Saint’s eyes watch me with need. His jaw tenses as he fights to keep his hands off of me.
“Anything else for you guys?” The kid calls out as he drops the worn down red shoes onto the counter. The laces on both pairs are beyond frayed, leaving little yellow strings falling around the top. Scuffs mark up the sides and I’m almost certain the sole of one is peeking out.
“No, that’s all! Thank you!” Saint drops a twenty into the barren tip jar and turns before he can see the boy's face light up. I admire his generosity, but I keep quiet as I follow him over to the bowling area.
We sit next to each other on a plastic bench.
It had been lined with fabric that seems as if it once held more color than an art studio.
Now, due to the consequences of aging, it feels dull.
Bits of yellow and pink still shine through, but most of the pattern has been rubbed away from years of use. Now it’s almost entirely grey.
Saint and I fight against the battered shoes, stretching the tongues out in order to slip our feet inside. He makes quick work of getting them on, while I continue to battle with the laces who had seen better days. The threads split apart as I try to shove them through the metal ring.
“Need some help?” He snickers, leaning forward to inspect my work.
Play Can’t Help Falling in Love by Haley Reinhart
I let out a sigh of defeat and swing my foot onto his lap.
My ankle rests gently against Saint’s knee as he gets to work, spinning the frayed strings together until they mimic a singular lace once more.
It slides right into place and he ties the laces together.
The bow flops down onto either side of the shoe.
“Thank you.”
“Always.” He smiles up to me, giving my ankle one last squeeze before I let it drop to the ground.
A cover of an old Elvis song begins to seep from the old speakers speckled around the ceiling.
The moment feels like one that belongs in a romance novel.
Honestly, everything about being loved by Saint feels that way.
Thousands upon thousands of words, all dedicated to love.
“Should I go first?” Saint stands up, walking over to obtain a ball for the both of us.
“I’ll go first,” I state with false confidence.
“Have to scare the competition, you know? Show them who’s in charge.
” I wink at him as I pull the ball from his hands.
He crosses his arms as his eyes stare me down.
The playful smirk displayed across his face could melt me into a puddle.
He drags his bottom lip through his teeth seductively.
“You’re trying to throw me off my game, aren’t you?” I scowl.
Saint holds his hands up with surrender. “You started it, miss ‘I’m a scary bowler now.’
I let out a small laugh as I spin on my heels. With my eyes set on the ten white pins in front of me, I feel like I could pull this off. I haven’t bowled in years, maybe it’s not as hard as I remember.
My arm swings back with more speed than I had intended, and when I let go of the ball it flies up rather than forward.
The weight of it slams down onto the alley, rolling maybe a foot before falling directly into the gutter.
The sound echoes throughout the entire building and the embarrassment has drenched me.
A slow clap sounds from behind me. “Very scary indeed. Make sure no one's around you for the next throw.” Saint laughs out, walking up to me and kissing my forehead. His humor helps ease the internal screaming. “It could’ve been worse,” he whispers as he cups my jaw. “You could’ve cracked the flooring.”
I go to rebuttal but the moment my mouth opens, Saint takes the opportunity to dip his tongue into me, silencing our banter with a heated kiss. My head spins as the euphoria of him fills me.
“My turn,” he smirks at me as he walks up to the lane. With perfect posture, he swings the balls. It rolls seamlessly down the lane, immediately granting him a strike.
My jaw falls open as the memories finally hit me. “You were in a bowling league! How could I forget that Saint Kennedy was in a damn bowling league?!”
He bows as if he had just given the performance of a lifetime. “Good thing we already shook on it.”
My eyes bulge. “No! No way!” I stomp over to him, completely bewildered. “There’s no way the deal is still on.”
Saint leans forward, nibbling on my ear lobe before lowering his octave to whisper to me. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want me to win.”
My body instinctively responds to his words, melting into his hands. A light whimper escapes me as he kisses the pulse point of my neck.
“Your turn.”
I roll again, barely knocking down a single pin. Each turn after that I swear just gets worse and worse. I’m so wrapped up in the desire growing in me, leaving me completely useless. Saint wins by a long shot, laughing and kissing me as I pretend to be annoyed.
His genuine happiness is the highlight of the day. He has been fighting so hard to overcome the battles he has hidden from the world. I couldn’t be more proud of the man in front of me.
His fingers wrap tightly around mine as we leave the building. “Do you want to grab food on the way over to my place?”
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “Yes please!” I groan out.
Play Flatline by Jared Benjamin
Empty takeout boxes cover the bottom half of the bed as Saint and I stay curled up at the top.
His fingers dance playfully along the bottom seam of the shirt I stole from him.
Each time one of them dips lower and caresses my skin I buzz with anticipation.
Saint hasn’t said a word about our bet, but it’s all I’ve thought about since the hunger pains subsided.
“Can I ask you something?” He questions with a low voice.
“Hmm?”
Saint’s eyes search mine as a look of uncertainty washes over him. “Why me? Why be with me, especially after everything?”
I bite my bottom lip, lost at how to convey myself. How could it not be him? Something tells me this was always meant to be. In some way, our souls have always been tied to one another, destined to entangle. I was never meant to be with someone else.
My hand rubs lovingly along the side of his face, feeling his five o’clock shadow as it prickles against my fingers.
“While I was gone, I had tried to fit myself into so many different areas. Different friend groups, activities, and partners. Nothing ever felt right. There was never a place that made me feel like I belonged to this world.”
I lean forward, letting my forehead rest against his. “You changed that. I’ve never felt more alive than I do when I’m with you. You breathe life into what I thought was nothing more than a dull existence.” My lips gently press against his. “It’s always been you, Saint.”
He presses back into me, the love evident in how his need for me speaks through his touch.
Like a moth to a flame, we’re drawn together, letting our limbs fall over one another as the kiss deepens.
His hands drag up my thighs, pulling on the shirt until it rests on my stomach.
With a strong grip just below my rib cage, Saint pulls my body flush with his.
His skin is hot to the touch – a dramatic difference compared to my body which never seems to keep warm.
A pleasant whimper escapes me as he presses his thigh between my legs. My body molds to his as he applies more pressure. His tongue dances with mine in a battle of dominance. The motions leave my pussy weeping for him.
“Turn around for me, Nova.” He growls out.
I quickly roll in place until I’m able to position myself on my hands and knees. I bend my spine, lowering my chest into the bed. Saint doesn’t waste a second finding his place behind me.
“Look how wet you are, baby.” He purrs out as his fingers drag my underwear down. My pussy is completely bare to him and I can feel my arousal as it drips off of me.
“I need you, Saint!” I plead as I attempt to press myself into him.
His finger runs through my slit as he responds, “I know, baby. You’re doing so good waiting for me.”
My heart hammers against my chest with anticipation. It picks up speed as his fingers slowly raise higher, drawing up my ass and leaving my own liquids as lubricant.
“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay?” Saint whispers as his fingers begin to prod at my back hole. Naturally, I tense up, the intrusion feeling so different.
“Come on, baby. Relax your body for me.” He hums, reaching forward with his other hand to strum against my clit. The pleasure has me doing as I’m told and I stay focused on that as he works to stretch me out.
Two of his fingers glide into me and I moan at the tightness. “You’re such a good girl.” Saint groans out in return. “Are you ready for me?”
I twist my neck in order to take him in. His dark hair lays messily over his eyes, casting them into a deep shadow. He bites his lip as he watches me, waiting for me to give the okay.
“I think so.” I whisper with uncertainty. Knowing me like the back of his hand, Saint picks up on the insincerity leaking into my words. He crawls off the bed and makes his way over to the dresser. I watch as he opens the top drawer before pulling out a purple bottle.
“This will make sure it doesn’t hurt,” he reassures me, climbing back to his spot. The bottle opens with an audible pop. He leaves me fascinated as he allows the lube to drip from the bottle onto his rock hard cock. Saint’s hand wraps around himself and he lets out a hiss.
Each stroke spreads the lubricant around and my mouth waters with how it glistens off of him.
He bends over me, returning his hand to my throbbing nub and rubs gently. The tip of his dick presses against my entrance and I let out a shuttered breath.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Saint growls out as he slowly eases into me. His head falls into the crook of my neck. “You were made for me.”
As my body eases up and gets used to the new feeling, the pleasure heightens. Saint picks up his pace and we lose ourselves to the feeling of our bodies connecting.