Chapter 21 #2
“Good g—” He turns away from me to clear his throat. “Uh, that’s perfect, El. You’re a natural.”
Patrick makes me set the ball back and forth with him until the movement becomes comfortable, and it’s honestly fun. We are more or less just pushing the ball at each other, and I’m appreciative of how little skill this action takes and the encouragement that Patrick is offering me.
When he places the ball on the ground, my eyes go straight to his toned legs, but I quickly avert them when he starts talking again. “Now that you have mastered setting, I think you’re ready to learn how to bump.”
He stretches his arms out to show me what I’m supposed to do, and I do my best to copy him. My breath hitches when he grabs my wrists, twisting them lightly, and a breath gets stuck in my throat as my mind drifts elsewhere.
Jesus, Ellie. Pull yourself together.
“Like this. You want to make sure your forearms are flat and facing up, and you don’t want to do that.
” He unweaves my fingers apart and kisses my knuckles before cupping them together.
The featherlight touch has me completely flustered.
“Make sure you hold your hands like this, so you don’t hurt yourself.
I’d be happy to nurse you back to health, but my main goal is for you to stay uninjured. ”
My cheeks blush, and I don’t understand how his words can have such an effect on me.
“O-okay.” My quippy responses are long gone.
Grabbing the ball, Patrick moves to stand about five feet in front of me.
“Okay, bend your knees and try to keep your arms almost parallel with the ground.” He waits patiently for me to get into position.
“When I toss this at you, you’re going to lift up with your legs, but you can use your arms to guide where it’s going. ”
He throws the ball gently, and when I hit it, it just flops to the ground.
“Try again, but this time better.” A laugh comes out of him, and he tries his best to suppress it.
Even though I know he’s joking, I give a pouty frown to make him think that he hurt my feelings. “You know, it’s really mean to laugh at your girlfriend when she’s trying so hard.”
“Aw, Ellie baby, don’t be a poor sport.” That nickname immediately flips my stomach in the best kind of way. There is a familiarity to it, but I can’t quite place where it’s from.
He walks over to me and gets down on one knee beside me. “W-what are you doing?”
Smirking, he looks up at me, his eyes looking insanely green in this light.
“Calm down, El. I’m just helping you with your follow through. Get back in the position,” he demands, and I listen without hesitating.
When I squat, he places his hand under my thigh, making me jump. Doing my best to hide my discomfort with humor, I ask, “Are you even qualified to be giving volleyball advice? How do I know this isn’t some scam you’re running to have an excuse to touch random women?”
His gaze scans up my body before landing on my face, and all I can think about is how good he looks on his knees. “Weren’t you the one who said I didn’t have to ask before touching you?”
“Hmmm, valid point.”
“And actually, I used to play in both high school and college, but now I just play with a group of friends on Thursday nights.” For some reason, he sounds shy when admitting it.
“It’s just for fun, but it keeps me active and helps with my stress.
So, I would say my many years of experience would definitely qualify me.
But, if you’re not comfortable with this, we can stop. ”
Still kneeling in front of me, I pray that he can’t see the blush rising to my cheeks.
His hand has been lingering on my thigh during our whole conversation, burning his touch into my skin, and I do my best not to squirm.
Just the thought of him inching his fingers closer to my core is enough to mess with my head.
“N-no, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t giving illegitimate advice. ”
“Okay, good!” He smiles, his hand squeezing my thigh softly.
I'm sure it's meant to be encouraging, but it lights me on fire.
“When you go to hit the ball, you want to keep your back straight and push up through your legs here—” His hand is firm as he pushes upwards to make my legs move up, and I do my best to stop them from buckling. “Perfect, just like that!”
Doing a cute little jog away from me, he moves to grab the ball, and I feel more anxious than I should. All of his focus is on me, but all I can focus on is the need pooling in my core and a trickle of sweat inching down the side of my face.
“You ready?”
With minimal confidence, I nod, and when he tosses it to me, I somehow manage to hit it directly back to him.
Shocked and surprised, I squeak out, “Oh my god! I did it!”
My body moves on its own, jumping up and down, when I feel Patrick’s arms around me lifting me completely off the ground, I freeze.
My body locks up, and I can’t stop myself from panicking.
There’s nothing I hate more than being picked up. While being perfectly content with how I look, I am still terribly self conscious about my weight. After some comments made by my ex, I actively work to avoid situations where someone will need to help me up or pick me up in any way.
Despite my past issues, I’m more shocked at how he is able to lift me with such ease, and when I realize he’s not struggling to hold me, I relax a little and enjoy the moment of weightlessness.
His body feels good pressed up tight against me, and it feels natural—just like it did this morning.
His one hand is wrapped around my back and the other cupped under my ass.
My arms wrap tightly around his neck as he lowers me to the ground.
His face is so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my lips, so I lean in.
Knowing that this is probably a bad idea, I can’t stop myself.
The kiss is delicate. It is soft and sweet, but I need more.
Like he could read my mind, he leans deeper into the kiss and tightens his grip on my body.
I part my lips, and with the invitation, his tongue slips in.
He tastes so good that I forget about everything around us.
His movements are teasing and sensual, and I squeeze my thighs to try to alleviate the feeling.
When he goes to break the kiss, I lightly pull his bottom lip with my teeth and am rewarded with a low moan.
Fuck, that is an addicting sound.
I can feel myself getting wetter as I imagine his mouth wandering all over my body.
If this is how he can make me melt from a kiss, there’s no way I stand a chance.
With a harsh grip, he pulls me into him, and I swear I can feel his need for me growing against my stomach.
But just as quickly as it starts, it ends.
A loud whistle splits through the air, and I break away from Patrick, like we’re teenagers who just got caught by a parent.
Looking in the direction of the noise, we see Wes giving an enthusiastic thumbs up.
If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say he looks like a proud dad.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells loudly, “When you guys are done making out, we’re ready to start the game! ”
My cheeks once again turn a shade of bright red, and I see Patrick’s following suit.
I stare straight at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as we make our way back to the group.
I’m truly hoping that Patrick doesn’t think too much into it and just assumes that kiss was just a perk of having a fake girlfriend who is fully committed to the lie.
But, that kiss was for me, and me alone. The heat still churns through my body, and I do my best not to linger too much on the feelings it brought up.
Even though it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, other than myself, I don’t want to use Patrick. It’s ridiculous to think he wants me like that, but I can’t get him out of my head. And, if the opportunity arises, I don’t know if I would have the willpower to stop myself.
By the time we get back to the group, it’s obvious that everyone has been waiting for us to start, which just adds an added layer of embarrassment to the whole thing.
Their gazes are more curious than judgmental, but I can’t stop the burning feeling in my cheeks.
Wes gives Patrick a pat on the back and tries to fist bump him when we approach, but Patrick ignores the gesture.
The team on the other side of the net is full of people I don’t recognize, and Patrick tells me that they are just a random assortment of coworkers from other departments. While the game has no stakes, I still find myself nervous that I am going to disappoint everyone.
He places his hands on my shoulder and lowers himself to meet my gaze. “Ellie, you are going to be fine. If anyone gives you shit, they’ll have to deal with me.”
His words reassure me until Wes butts in. “I don’t think that Patrick has ever fought anyone before, so if anyone gives you shit, I will deal with them.”
Wes sends a wink and a smile my way as we all get into position. When I glance over at Patrick, he is clenching his jaw and giving Wes a death glare. It’s cute how he plays the defensive boyfriend so well.
Every time we have to rotate, Patrick guides me to my next position.
Everyone else is fairly decent, so I don’t have too much responsibility for hitting the ball.
I did miss a few chances to save the ball, but at one point, I managed to set the ball to Natalie.
She spiked it over, winning the point for our team, so that high should last me the rest of the day.
Halfway through the game, we take a water break, and while everyone else is dripping in sweat, I somehow remain relatively poised—there’s a first time for everything.
The water is cool going down my throat; although, I nearly do a spit take when Patrick and the other guys start taking their shirts off.