Troy

By the time they reached the city limits, Remy said she was starving.

Troy felt like a heel, bringing her all this way and not stopping for food. He’d been so focused on getting to the hotel for the night, having a little more fun between the sheets and getting a good night’s sleep with her in his arms that he’d forgotten about food.

Remy was good for him. She reminded him to eat.

It was about nine o’clock when they checked in to the hotel, and basically everything anybody could want to eat was within walking distance.

They walked a block away and passed at least two bars with sidewalk seating, beautiful well-dressed people drinking, laughing.

Troy had hoped to find someplace charming and quiet and romantic for them to eat, but Remy spotted a casual Mexican joint and made a beeline, tugging him behind her.

“I don’t mean to sound like a rube,” she said over the din of the crowds, “but this is awesome. Middleburg has its sidewalk rolled up at nine p.m. every Saturday night. You don’t see a soul out on the street. This is amazing! I’m sitting outside at nine o’clock eating a delicious taco and hearing live music from about two different places, and everyone around me is dressed about ten times better and so far this is the best trip of my life.”

Troy stared at her gorgeous face as she tore into her food with glee.

“Have you never been here?”

“Oh sure,” she said through a mouthful of food. “I’ve been to the Museum of Science and Industry, Field Museum, Shedd Aquarium. All the stuff that Iowa people do with their kids on school field trips. But we never got to do this! Wander around, watch people, eat tacos, have a margarita, that’s for damn sure.”

Troy reached across the table and traced a finger inside the neckline of her shirt, then dipped down to the first button, surprising her by tugging it open. “Well, I’m hoping this will be a strictly grown-up fun trip for you,” he said.

She smiled and blushed. He loved that after all they had done together, she still blushed when he talked to her like that.

“Before we go back to the hotel, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he added.

“Go ahead,” she said through a mouthful of taco.

“You are my girlfriend. I don’t want there to be any doubt. I’m your boyfriend. We are solid, and I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. Even while you’re eating that messy taco and I know I’m going to find bits of lettuce on you later, I love you. And we talk about things. OK?”

He waited. Her eyes were big and wide open and unreadable, and she had stopped chewing. But at least she was listening. She finally swallowed and spoke.

“Elliot worships you. If you’re my boyfriend, that means there’s a gray area with Elliot.”

“How so?”

She set down her taco. ”First, you and I were having a fling. Now, we’re in a committed relationship. It would be great if it was just you and me. When it ends, we can handle it like grownups. But Elliot will have gotten attached and that’s not fair to him.”

She held her breath and looked across the table at Troy like she was gathering up some extra courage. “If any man is in my life, it’s gotta be 100 percent. I can’t have my kid putting trust in you only for us to end this thing down the road.”

“I never would have asked you on our first date if I had wanted just a fling. God, Remy. I literally cannot stop thinking about you every single day. Now this thing has gotten too big to be a fling, don’t you see that?”

Remy smirked. “Well, don’t flatter yourself, it’s not that big.” She glanced down at his crotch.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Troy could see he had some more work to do, and it was getting late. Tomorrow he would fix this thing in stone. Tonight they would have a kickass time in a ritzy hotel, but tomorrow he was going to put all questions to rest once and for all.

Less than thirty minutes later, Troy was ripping her leggings off with a force that sent a rip all along the fabric in the thigh.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.”

Remy tossed the leggings right into the trash from the bed. “They’re garbage. Now come down here and let’s mess these sheets up real good, Coach.”

Well, how could he say no?

Underneath the trashed leggings she had on some bright turquoise silk thong kind of thing. He was instantly hard again and thanked her for wearing it. “Although,” he said, “I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“They’re more comfortable than you might think, if you get good ones. And they prevent panty lines. If you’re gonna commit to wearing leggings and yoga pants, I have two rules: no panty lines, and do a shit-ton of squats so your ass looks its best…oh my god! Troy!”

Troy finally got her to stop talking by slipping that thong out of the way and forging a path with his mouth into her core without any warning or buildup at all. She gasped in simultaneous shock and pleasure. He worked around her and kissed her thighs. He stopped when she said his name.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll keep going when you figure out what to call me.”

A smile crawled across her flushed face. “Oh, are we playing a game?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I like it when you call me ‘ma’am’ in that hot Southern accent.”

“It’s called manners.”

“Then why don’t you use your manners and don’t leave me hanging, Troy.”

“What did you call me?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Sir?”

“No, ma’am.” He slid his hands away from her body and waited. He watched her squirm in anticipation and need. It wasn’t nice. But it was so much fun being on the edge of not-nice with her, especially when she was into it.

“Coach?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Troy returned his face between her thighs and got to the pleasing work of making her howl. He stroked her labia with his tongue. She sighed loudly. He found her clit with his lips and she moaned. “Coach. You make me want to scream.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered between kisses.

“Oh Troy!”

Troy suddenly stopped and pulled away again.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t stop. You’re killing me!”

“What’s my name?”

She whimpered, “Coach.”

Troy smiled as his hands traveled up her tummy, over her navel, pushing her cotton tank up past her breasts. He nuzzled her and nibbled one nipple and then the other through the fabric of her bra.

She instinctively raised her arms above her head and arched up as he quickly rid her of her tank top and bra. She sighed as he went to work pulling her thong all the way down with his teeth.

Once she was completely naked beneath him, he knelt over her and looked down at her amazing body in the mussed pile of hotel sheets. She looked like a goddess with her dark hair splayed out like a crown around her head. The look in her eyes made him feel something beyond just simple arousal. Whether she knew it or not, she was feeling real feelings. She may not admit it, but the intensity in her eyes was piercing his soul. He was a goner. This was it. This was the woman for him. He didn’t want anybody else in his bed ever again. Her eyes, her lips, her strong chin, her sexy bare shoulders, that ass of hers, her hair, all of it aroused him beyond belief, but their soul connection was real, and he was going to spend his whole life demonstrating it to her, if that’s what it took. He sincerely hoped it would not take that long.

“Coach,” she said again, huskily. He realized he had taken too long of a moment to gaze at her and she was waiting on him.

He nodded. “Ma’am.” And traced a path of feathery kisses across her collarbone, down her chest, his lips landing on a dark, hard little nipple, which begged him to suckle. He did for a moment as her hands caressed his shoulders, his back, pulling up on the fabric of his shirt.

“I want to feel your skin against me,” she said.

“I’m gonna keep my clothes on, ma’am. I like you being totally naked under me and letting me take care of you. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Good answer.”

He reached under her and gripped her ass with both hands, and she spread her legs wide for him. He plunged into her core and found her hard little seed again. She was completely soaked for him. She was giving him another raging boner.

He stroked her with his tongue, in and out and around as her cries grew in intensity.

“I’m coming, Coach.”

“Slow that ass, ma’am.”

“I can’t, I’m coming now.”

But he wanted to make her shatter the way she’d done to him. So he pulled away from her again.

“Coach, it’s not fair. I’m following the rules. This is torture.”

He lovingly massaged her inner thighs. She moaned and tried to hug him into her with the strength of her legs, her back arched in agony and longing to connect their bodies. He squeezed her ass cheeks in his hands. He waited a few more agonizing seconds and then finished her with his lips and tongue.

She howled. She screamed, she convulsed and contracted and shattered around him. The sight of it, the sound of it, her sweet taste and her deep-down scent all conspired to make him nearly come while fully clothed.

He cried her name. “I love you, Remy.”

“Coach,” she said hoarsely.

“Say my name.”

“Mmm. Troy,” she murmured.

He kissed her lips and her forehead and whispered, “You don’t have to say it back.”