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Hitting It (Locker Room Diaries) by Kathy Lyons (3)

Chapter Three

Heidi

OMG OMG OMG! My thoughts were spinning while my heart pounded in my ears. He was kissing me, and I was letting him. His lips were sweet and gentle, and the way he just leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine simply overrode my senses. He hadn’t hesitated. He’d just gone for it. Not too fast, not too slow. I’d had enough time to know this was happening, and then his mouth was on mine.

Why did this feel so perfect? We could talk so easily. I’ve never shared so much, so quickly, with a guy before. He set me at ease, and when he smiled at me, my heart stuttered. He laughed when I made a joke, he teased me when I felt uptight, and he looked at me like I was the most important thing in his world. It was so much, so fast, and I…I loved it.

Holy shit, why couldn’t I stop thinking? Especially as he brushed back and forth over my mouth, setting my lips to tingling. Then he nibbled at the edges, and who could resist opening up to that? I’d just met the guy. At a wet T-shirt contest, no less. And here we were kissing on the beach. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to do more, do it all. With him. It was insane, but my God, it was perfect. He was everything I wanted. No wrong notes, no alarms warning me away. Just full throttle ahead. And I was not a full-throttle kind of girl.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” he said, his breath heating my mouth. He’d only pulled back a half inch, but he was so right.

“I’m just…I don’t usually do this.”

“It’s okay. It’s spring break. Things happen.”

“And it’s just a kiss, right?”

“Right. Nothing more.” Then his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Unless you want more.”

I did want more. I really did. I always knew I’d eventually meet a great guy that would be the love of my life. I expected a husband and kids, but not just yet. Not at twenty-one. And yet, here I was, seeing a whole life with him laid out in my head. And it was wonderful.

I set my hands on his chest, feeling the broad expanse of his muscles. I had no idea how big baseball players were. Strong hills, taut valleys. I wanted to touch him just like this for the rest of my life. Lust surged in my blood, and I dove headlong into it. Tight nipples, liquid pulse in my belly, and need pushing me to tease him, to see if he was as aroused as I was.

It took me a moment to become as daring as I wanted to be, then I did it. I brushed across the tight nub of his nipples and grinned when he trembled. Then I brushed them again, just to see if what I’d felt—through him—was real. It was. His body tensed and he cupped my face. We’d been walking side by side before, but now he was directly in front of me. Had he angled to me? Had I shifted to face him?

“Shhh,” he said, clearly knowing my thoughts were spinning.

Then he lowered his mouth to mine, and this time, the press was harder. Firmer.

I opened up to him. I wanted this. I wanted him. He pushed in immediately, thrusting his tongue in a way that made my belly clench and my breasts tingle. His was stroking me, coiling around my tongue, and then teasing the roof of my mouth. I’d never been kissed so thoroughly before. Never. And it was a head rush like no other. I could have done it for hours, and maybe we did.

Eventually he pulled back. We were both breathing hard and I looked up into his eyes. The sun had set, so his face was in darkness, but I could feel his gaze burning through me. It was so weird, and yet so palpable, I lost my focus. My brain just splintered into nothingness.

“Wow,” he said, his voice a hoarse rasp.

“Wow,” I echoed because, yup, that was all my brain could do.

“Um, I think we need to…um…”

“Let’s sit down, okay? Just for a minute.” My legs were weak and my blood was whooshing through my body hard enough to make my head spin.

“Good idea.”

Yeah, except this was Ft. Lauderdale on spring break. There were people everywhere and not an unoccupied chair in sight. Then he gestured to a pier. People wandered over it—laughing and drinking—but underneath was empty, and he led me there. It was high enough that we could walk easily below it and he pulled me to a pillar on the sand.

“We can sit here,” he said. “And look at the waves.”

It was a nice night and relatively private in this tiny patch of darkness. He settled down with his back to the pillar and his face aimed toward the wind and the water.

“Okay,” I answered as I kicked off my sandals and started to crouch down. I wouldn’t have anything at my back but—

“No. Here,” he said as he tugged me between the V of his spread legs.

Well, that was going to be intimate. And my mother would be appalled, but it was exactly what I wanted. So I gingerly settled between his legs and at his urging, I leaned back against him. He was so big that I fit nicely there. And if the hot brand of his penis against my bottom heated me, it also excited me beyond belief. I couldn’t stop thinking that he was a jock. Not just the normal high school quarterback, but someone headed toward professional baseball. A real athlete with a body like a Greek god. And he wanted me to sit between his thighs while his hard-on pressed into my backside.

I had never felt so desired before. Add in the starlight and the waves, and the setting couldn’t be more magical. Even the steady noise of people above us added to the excitement. Bodies everywhere, but in this tiny space, I felt completely alone with him.

As if echoing my thoughts, he spoke next to my ear. “They don’t even see us.” Then he pointed to a cluster of three people walking underneath the pier, just like we had. The group didn’t even turn. He’d found a shadowed area that only he had noticed.

“It’s nice here,” I said as I dropped my head against his shoulder. The wind on my face was cooling even as his heat enveloped my body. He settled his hands on my hips, large and possessive. I didn’t mind. I liked that I felt surrounded by him.

“We don’t have water like this in Nebraska. I never knew how soothing it is.”

I listened to the steady beat of the waves, easy to hear even over the noise above us. Then I looked up to see the stars. Lots of light pollution here, but there were enough bright pinpricks showing through to make it delightful.

“We don’t see stars like this in Indianapolis. Or if we do, I don’t notice.”

“Too much time with your nose in a book?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess. Or maybe I’m just so busy, I never stop like this. Get quiet.”

“Yeah, me, too. Once, years ago, I fell asleep on the bleachers.”

“You’re kidding. Didn’t your parents get worried?”

He chuckled, and the sound rumbled from him into me. A sweet erotic feeling that had my toes curling into the sand.

“It was summer, and I was old enough that they were used to me hanging out at the baseball field. I would play my game, then stay to watch the others. I sat at the top where the back is higher to keep people from falling off, and I just dozed off.”

I nodded, readily able to imagine it. I had two brothers, after all, and they could sleep anywhere, at any time.

“How late was it when you woke up?”

“A little after ten. Not that late, but I remember opening my eyes and seeing the stars. So many filling the sky. It took my breath away.”

I could imagine that in my mind’s eye. Better yet, I could look up into the starlight and see it for myself. “My parents would have freaked,” I said.

“Mine did, too. And they got me a cell phone the very next day. So it worked out great for me.”

I smiled at that, and when I felt his lips on my neck, every part of me stilled. The soft scrape of his teeth, the heated tease of his breath, and the slow shift of his hands across my lower belly. I let my head roll to the side, giving him full access to my neck and shoulder. I thought he might just go wild, but he didn’t. He continued the slow, gentle feasting that set my blood on simmer.

Or maybe it was more than simmer, because all too soon my breath was short and my hands slid up his thighs to grip him. Part of me was still shocked by my own behavior. I didn’t kiss on the first date. I certainly didn’t sit under a pier and think about letting him touch me every way possible. But the feelings were real. The hunger so delicious, simply because I’d never felt it before. So intense, so pure. And when his hands slipped under my shirt, I shivered in delight.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said as his thumbs started moving back and forth on the underside of my bra. Each brush sent flares of heat through my chest that cut off any other attempt at language.

“I’m usually a leg man,” he said. “Especially if you’re athletic. But the minute I saw you, I changed my mind.”

“Sure you did,” I said, my tone laced with sarcasm. I just couldn’t believe that any man would change his preference based on my extremely average boobs.

“I did,” he stressed. “And I’ll prove it to you.” Then he pressed a kiss to my jaw, right under my ear before whispering, “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

Then before I could guess what he meant, he reached between my breasts and popped the clasp. I had no idea how he knew what kind of bra I was wearing, and no voice to ask. I simply gasped as he efficiently brushed the cups aside before lifting me in both his big hands.

“I’ve been dying to do this all night,” he said as he rolled his thumbs over my nipples.

Oh holy God, it was amazing. Sparks. Sparks everywhere bursting where he touched. And he had big hands, so he touched a lot of me. He held my breasts. He kneaded them. And he rolled the nipples between his fingers. He just played with them while I tried not to pass out from the pleasure. And all the while, he kept talking. Casual conversation about how much he loved touching me.

“Your skin is so soft, I can’t really believe it. Like I’m touching baby powder. I know that sounds awful, but I don’t think I’ve ever touched anything so soft. And the size—”

“You like small?” My words were breathless, and I couldn’t stop myself from arching more into his hands.

“These aren’t small,” he said. “They’re the perfect handful. And a good weight.”

I’d never had anyone lift my breasts as if weighing them, but he did. And he saved it from being weird by groaning deep in his throat. “You have no idea how much guys dream of doing just this. Just, you know, playing like this.”

“Really?” I whispered.

“Really,” he said. And then there was little talk because he was busy enjoying himself and my brain was fading out from the sensations.

I needed to touch him, and gripping his legs wasn’t enough. So I reached up and back with one hand and wended my fingers into his hair. He was still bent near my neck, and I felt his breath hot and sweet across my skin. I was so busy pulling his head toward me, I didn’t fully notice when his right hand left my breast to unbutton my jean shorts.

Or perhaps that wasn’t true. I pretended not to notice because I wanted his hand there. I wanted him pushing down between my thighs and underneath the tight red lace.

“I’ll stop if you want me to,” he said.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” I whispered. “I’m a good Chinese girl who doesn’t even laugh loud.”

“I know,” he stressed. Then he pushed one of his big, long fingers between my folds. “I know you haven’t, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

He knew just what to do. He didn’t shove at my clit like he was drilling for oil. Instead, he took his time, rubbing me slowly as he rolled down between the folds until he pushed inside me. Then he reversed directions, coming out on an equally sweet stroke. My belly began to ripple, tightening unbearably as my breath stuttered in and out. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Right here in the open. But when I might have pulled in against him, he hooked his feet under mine. I was so involved in his stroking that this time, I really didn’t notice. Not until he worked his legs under mine and bent his knees. My legs just lifted up and fell open. Even if I’d wanted to, I didn’t have the inner-thigh strength to combat his muscular legs.

There I was, draped open while his hand worked between my legs. His left hand continued to twist the nipple of my left breast, but his right hand was thorough as he stroked in and out of me. First one finger, then two.

Everything was wet where he touched me. Everything slick and tingly.

“Oh God.” I gasped. Two words in separate breaths.

“Don’t worry,” he said against my temple. “I’ve got you. No one is looking. It’s just you, me, and the stars.”

And his fingers doing such amazing things. Even so, I had to consciously push aside my shock at my own behavior. I had to allow myself to live in the pleasure of the moment while the tension in my belly coiled tighter and tighter. My eyes were closed now. I pressed back against him and pumped my hips up to his fingers. I had no control and no desire to stop the freight train of need he was building inside me.

“Yes,” he murmured against my ear. “God, yes.”

Exactly what I would have said if I’d had breath. Then he shifted his hand. I didn’t know what he was doing until suddenly he pinched my clit. Hard and sharp.

“Oh!” I cried and I shot over the edge.

I came so hard, I bucked like a wild thing. He kept me contained. His legs supported me below, while his left hand kept me pressed against his torso. But the other hand, that wicked right hand, pushed deep into me with three fingers. He shoved hard and kept them there while I writhed in ecstasy.

And I kept contracting. Over and over. Orgasms don’t last that long for me, but this one did. Pulse after glorious pulse, while my mind shimmered with light. Flashes, peaks, all bursting behind my eyelids and down below as wave after wave rolled through me.

Wow. Just wow.

Eventually it faded. I held onto it as long as I could. I writhed on the pole of his fingers and wished it were something else. I wanted it to be that hard, hot part of him that still burned into my backside. He didn’t push. He let me bask in afterglow as long as I wanted.

After a time, he pulled his hand out of my panties. He straightened his legs, so my knees were no longer spread to capacity. He even zipped up my shorts, though the rumble of the zipper set off extra sparks across my skin. And then he pressed a kiss to my temple. Or maybe a few dozen kisses. It took me a while to differentiate sensations and to realize he was grinning.

“You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” My voice was throaty and still breathless.

“Yup.” One word, but it was layered with laughter and a bit of smug joy.

“Well,” I admitted. “You should be. That was pretty great.”

I expected him to push for more then. After all, his penis was still very hot and hard. But he didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed content to just sit on the beach with me. The shadows felt absolute around us. The stars and the ocean somehow more present than the partiers who still wandered across the sand.

I had the distinct feeling that tonight was a magical night. That he was the man who would make all my fantasies come true. All I had to do was be bold enough to ask. But was I that bold? Was I? Apparently so because the next words out of my mouth stepped into one of my favorite fantasies.

“I need a shower.”

I felt him flinch, the reaction as bold as if I’d slapped him. “What?” he said.

I played back my words in my head and realized too late what that sounded like.

“No, um. Not like that.” I took a deep breath and waded in. “What I meant was, would you like to take a shower with me? Like, um, back in my hotel room?”