Hannah
I feel like a baby koala, trying to hang on to a giant eucalyptus tree and not quite having the strength or the grip to do it successfully. The thing is that I don’t really need either. Big D has this down.
As he tugs me against the huge thing that seems to fascinate girls all across the campus, I know I should be putting the brakes on.
I know this is stupid. I’m all tear-streaked and blotchy and this definitely isn’t the time for me to be taking a first step towards breaking my rule. Dominic, for all his reputation, is a decent guy. Decent guys just don’t work in my world. And anyway, maybe he’s only doing this because he feels sorry for me.
I know all this, but neither the sensible stuff nor the doubts that are rushing through my head makes me pull back and say the words I should be saying.
No.
Stop.
I know if I said either of them, Big D would do it immediately. It wouldn’t matter how jacked up he was, or how hard the cock that I'm now grinding myself against was. I know he’d care enough about how I feel to pause and take it into consideration. I wouldn’t be kissing him if he wasn’t that guy.
But oh, the kiss is something else. Every nerve ending that I have seems to be on high alert. His hands grip my face like I’m a delicious drink he just has to keep savoring. His lips are so soft and the way he moves his tongue has me thinking about fucking in ways I haven’t for a long time.
“Hannah,” he says, pulling away from my lips to kiss my jaw, my neck, the tops of my breasts. My chest is heaving like I’ve just been for a run. His breath is so hot on my skin I flush with the heat of it.
“Dom,” I murmur back. My brain forms the next part of the sentence. ‘We shouldn’t do this,’ but it never reaches my lips, because Big D is there, sipping at me again, running his hands back and forth from my ribs to my ass. It’s a mesmerizing rhythm that makes me boneless and weak. My hips seem to have a life of their own, rising up to press my clit against his cock. His hands push up my blouse, fluffing the fabric as if to show his intention. It’s cute that I sense he’s giving me time to tell him he’s going too far too fast. Half of me thinks he is, and the other half of me, the sex-starved part that has been imagining him pushing his huge cock inside me for months, wants to scream at him to get on with it.
And it’s not just about the sex. He’s here in my room because he didn’t want to leave me alone and scared. It’s been so long since anyone wanted to take care of me that way. The mistakes I made forced me to grow up more quickly than I would have liked, and I’m not my mom’s only focus these days. With my rule, I’ve prevented myself from forming any meaningful relationships that could have filled that void. It really does feel like a void, too. When I’m alone, I feel achingly empty, although I’d never admit that to anyone. I don’t deserve the luxury of self-indulgent thoughts like that. I have people counting on my focus and my determination.
The first graze of Big D’s thumbs against the tips of my nipples sends all rational thought sailing right out of my head. He doesn’t pinch like I expect him to. Those big digits of his just rub and worry at my aching nipples like he’s trying to work out which button to press on the TV remote in the dark. It has me leaning into him, trying to increase the contact and pressure.
“You like that,” he says gruffly, kissing my lips harder like the thought that I’m turned on is turning him on even more.
“Mmmm,” I moan, gripping his wrist and mashing his right hand over my aching breast. He squeezes hard, pinching my nipple so meanly that I cry out. His massive palm, the thing that makes him a beast at throwing and catching, also makes him a pro at this. He tears at my bra, pulling it down and it feels so crazily good I buck against him.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, tugging my hips so I’m riding him like I would if we were really having sex. My panties are wet and getting wetter, and it feels like such a waste. I know if I pulled them to one side and slid myself down on his huge cock, that he’d slip and slide his way right in. It’d probably still hurt, but in that achingly good way I’ve read about that makes you push through to the pleasure on the other side.
His empty hand finds its way to my thigh and it doesn’t take much to ruffle up the fabric of my skirt until it’s high on my hips. Big D draws back to look down the space between us to the place he has just exposed. My mind skips to remember what panties I put on before I left the house; baby pink with white polka dots and white ribbons at the sides. He groans in his throat as though my underwear is a form of torture, and his big fingers stroke the tips of the ribbon. He seems torn, as though he wants to tug those ribbons so badly, but there’s a part of him that knows this isn’t right, too. I’m just about to put my hand over his, to let him know that this is far enough when I hear the creak of the door handle turning.
I’m up and off Big D’s knee in a flash, smoothing my clothes as Heather makes her way into the room and registers that we have company.
“Hey,” she says, scanning me and then taking in the sight of Dominic, reclining on my bed, with my pillow suddenly in his lap.
“Hey, Heather,” I say brightly. “How’re you doing?”
“Oh, fine,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “You’re looking a little flushed, Hannah. You feeling okay?” I can see the laughter in her eyes but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give her anything.
“Oh yeah,” I say. “Never better.” I wave my arm in Dominic’s direction. “You know Big D, don’t you?”
“Not personally,” she says. “But I’ve seen you play. You’ve got some mad skills.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles from behind me.
“We were just studying,” I say. “I’m helping him with his essay writing skills.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” she mumbles with a huge smile on her face. “I’m just gonna head to the kitchen to make a hot chocolate. You guys want anything?”
“I’m good,” I say, just as Big D mumbles, “No thank you.”
As Heather disappears, I feel the awkwardness of the moment creep in to replace the embarrassment at being discovered.
Dominic tosses my pillow to one side and shifts himself until he’s standing. I feel so fucking small next to his hulking great frame. I can’t look at his face, but everywhere else my eyes land makes me flush. His cock is still hard and the outline of it is clear as day. And what an outline it is. My fingers itch to touch it, to circle it and stroke, to feel it swell and jerk as I tease him. His hands hang by his sides; the fingers that were searching out ways to give me more pleasure so close but so far. I can tell he’s breathing fast by the way his abs are moving under his T.
“You gonna look at me, Hannah?” he says gently.
I raise my eyes to his and find him looking serious. We stand with two feet of space between us, like virtual strangers again.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I say, feeling a tightness in my throat at the realization that I have to push him away again.
His eyes are dark, fathomless pools and he doesn’t say anything for a while. I wish I knew what was going on inside that fascinating head of his. I wonder if his thoughts are as jumbled as his written words, and it makes me want to reach out and brush my fingers across his forehead, as though I could soothe them into order.
“Now that your roommate’s back, I’ll head out.”
I nod, hating the easy way he can move from frenzied passion into nothing. Did he not feel what I felt between us? As much as I know this is the wrong thing to do, I realize that we had something pretty amazing going on there, until Heather’s interruption, that is.
“Sure,” I say, trying to sound breezy through the lump in my throat.
He turns and strides to the door, as though he can’t wait to get away. “I’ll see you Tuesday then,” he says as he’s halfway out of the door.
“Sure, Tuesday,” I say, but he doesn’t register that he’s heard me before disappearing into the stairwell.
I reach for the remote and turn off the annoying background noise of the television. Heather comes back into the room as I’m starting to get changed for bed.
“So, you and Big D,” she says like she’s just discovered the best piece of gossip EVER.
“Yeah. I’m his tutor,” I say, dropping my skirt and reaching for my pajamas.
“Oh, don’t give me that. You were all over that huge man before I interrupted. I’m not stupid.”
I cringe, but I don’t admit to anything. Heather is great, but I have a feeling this gossip would be all over campus by tomorrow if I did.
“For someone who’s been like a nun, you sure switch quickly.”
“There’s nothing going on,” I tell her. When I turn, I see she has something in her hand.
“A sexy guy gave me this for you. He was parked outside. I thought I’d better wait until Big D left, in case there was some kind of conflict.”
She goes to hand it to me but I don’t reach out to take it. “What is it?” Heather looks at the envelope, as though she’s missed something. “What did he look like?”
She blinks, looking up as she tries to remember. “Smart. Suit. Amazing blue eyes and dark hair.”
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“Will you open it for me?”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. Probably just a note.”
Heather studies the envelope a little more, then slips her finger under the flap. I shudder, imagining his tongue sliding over the glue to stick it down. There’s a white card inside, that she draws out. It’s blank on both sides, but when she opens it, she reads what it says aloud.
“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.” She pauses, looking at the words before her eyes flick to mine. “It’s beautiful,” she says. “You must have made quite an impression on him for him to be sending you poetic shit like this.”
My hands are trembling at my sides. “Do me a favor, Heather. You see that man again, you stay as far away from him as you can.”
“What’s going on? You in some kind of trouble?”
“I think I am,” I tell her. “And I have no idea what to do about it.”