Page 9 of Fumbled Love

“It’s okay. I’m glad one of us was thinking.” She sounded calm, unlike me, who was flustered. And I never got flustered. To be fair, she was different, and for the first time in my life, I wished this could be more than one night.

I kissed my way down the curve of her neck to her shoulder, trying to salvage the moment I almost ruined. I stroked her clit with my thumb and then slid the base of my cock inside. I made sure my strokes were slow and measured, trying to keep myself from exploding too soon. I needed to pace myself and draw this night out as long as possible. She tried to meet each movement as I kept hitting that same spot over and over again. We were all hands, tongues, and teeth. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I sure as hell wouldn’t regret a single second.

My breaths came out in pants, and beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I pounded into her like a madman. I was possessed.

Typically, sex was just a physical act for me. Yet, something about how our bodies connected made me want to break every vow I ever made to myself.

When her eyes flew open, I wanted to promise her things I had no business promising. But instead, I brought my lips to hers, willing myself to get a grip. This was sex, nothing more. So why did it feel so different with her? It felt like I’d known this woman for years instead of hours.

My body started to shudder, and that ball of pleasure I fought to hold back came tumbling forward. I came with a roar, and I came harder than ever before.

I collapsed on the mattress next to her, needing a minute to get my breathing under control. She turned sideways and rested her head on my shoulder. I pulled on the back of her neck and captured her mouth again. Cuddling wasn’t something I usually did, but I was too sated to overthink it.

“I think we’ll need to do that again,” I said, leaning on my elbow and staring down at her. I would need a few minutes to recover, but I knew it wouldn’t take long to regain my strength.

She let out a low chuckle. “What makes you think you were good enough to earn another round?”

I couldn’t help it. I fell back against the mattress and laughed. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every damn second of it.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “You were all right, I guess.”

I arched an eyebrow. “All right?” I tickled her, and she started squirming beneath me. “Take that back right now and admit I’m the best sex you ever had.”

I couldn’t deny that this woman brought out a playful side in me. Hell, she brought out many different sides of me. Some I didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Okay, Okay.” She was out of breath. “It was the best.” She tapped her lips. “You get the top spot, like A number one, top of the list, king of the hill.” She smirked. “How’s that?”

“What the fuck?” My eyebrows pulled together. “Did you just compare my lovemaking skills to a Frank Sinatra song?” Her response was to laugh harder. “Oh, it’s like that, huh?” I said, climbing over her and pinning her hands to the bed.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You don’t like Old Blue Eyes?”

I glanced down at her. Everything inside me went soft. “I like your blue eyes.”

An uncomfortable silence took over the room. I watched her work a deep swallow. I got this strange sense that she was trying to hide something and didn’t want me to look too closely, which was odd because most women went out of their way to get noticed by me.

She went to stand up, but I grabbed her wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I assumed you wanted me to leave.”

Was her radar that off? Not once did I hint that I wanted her gone. “You assumed wrong. Besides,” I said, trying to rationalize this, “it’s still storming outside. Why don’t you get some sleep and wait till it clears up tomorrow?”

She arched an eyebrow and leaned forward. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” I smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nodded and moved to the end of the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. I pulled her across the sheets until she was nestled into my side. Thank God she didn’t fight me because I was exhausted and just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. Instead, we stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, telling jokes and teasing each other until the only noise in the room was her light snoring.

And for the first time in my life, I fell asleep with a smile on my lips.

When I woke up the next morning and reached for her, the bed was empty. Typically, I was the one sneaking out at dawn. I should be thankful that she spared me the morning after speech. The one that made things awkward. Where I gave a list of excuses for why we couldn’t see each other again; instead, I felt disappointed.

Grabbing my phone from the charger, I pulled up the weather app. The storm was letting up a little bit, but another one was right behind it. I needed to get back to Georgia because we had a game on Sunday that I couldn’t miss. Even though I wasn’t an active player, as the team captain, I was still expected to show up and support my team.

I pushed the covers aside, the ones that still smelled like her, and shuffled into the bathroom to take a shower. Once I was finished, I wrapped a towel around my waist and grabbed my shaving cream off the counter. There was a hickey on my neck and scratch marks running down my shoulders.

The guys in the locker room would never let me live this down if they saw these marks, but all the ribbing and jokes would be worth it.

I didn’t have an ounce of regret. Did she? Is that why she left without a trace?

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