Page 19 of The Hockey Player and the Tutor
She shakes her head. “No, but sometimes I felt like it. In New York City, it’s not a thing. I mean, you’ve got the Jersey Shore and Coney Island, but my mother never took me to those places. She was always busy with other things.”
Although it’s a sad statement about her childhood, the enthusiasm in her chipper voice doesn’t dissipate and puts me at ease. I was worried she wouldn’t like the idea. Some girls wouldn’t. It’s outdoors, the weather is unpredictable, and it’s not a ritzy, classy affair. It’s just good, wholesome fun. Which seems fitting for Brinly. Something tells me she grew up smart and worldly but sheltered in other ways.
We drive the few miles toward town and park in a lot a block away from the town square.
“You’re going to have to try the deep-fried Twinkie. It’s a delicacy.”
She giggles, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, and then pats her hips. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound very healthy or good for my hips and thighs.”
My eyes zero in on those parts of her anatomy and my brain goes a little haywire. Outside of her breasts, those two body features are the things that keep me up at night. My cock swells in my pants just wondering how they’d feel in my hands.
Even though I think she’s kidding, the joke falls flat. I reach for her hand and stop her forward momentum, pulling her to my chest. She gives me a startled look.
“You are perfect, Brinly. A Twinkie or an elephant ear isn’t going to change that. Your body is beautiful.”
To prove my sincerity, I slide one hand along her hip bone, the other behind her neck, her silky curtain of hair slipping through my fingertips. She stares up at me with bright eyes, her lips parting as if to refute what I’m saying.
But I don’t let her. I kiss her instead.
She tastes sweeter than any cotton candy or powdered sugar mini donuts I’ve ever had. Her lips form to mine and part open as I slide my tongue through the seam of her lips. I sweep the tip of my tongue over her teeth and then capture her moan when I seal my lips over her mouth. The sweet and sexy sound reverberates down my spine. It’s a searing kiss that I’ve waited days to experience again.
Her soft breasts brush against my chest and shoot sparks of lightning down to my toes and back up again, landing at my crotch. My dick pulses and strains with intensity when I encounter the heat radiating from her core.
Remembering where we are—standing in the middle of a sidewalk where town people stroll on by—I reluctantly put an end to the kiss. I take a step back and drop my hands and am pulverized by the look on Brinly’s face.
Her expression is painted with a hint of amusement and sultry desire. There’s a lusty fire simmering in her eyes and a grin that is both wicked and sweet at the same time.
“I know I’ve already said it, and I’m not that poetic, but you are so beautiful, Brin.” I lean in for one last kiss.
“Your kisses are like poetry,” she replies, her cheeks blooming with a rosy color. “And I love poetry.”
Grinning like an idiot, I take her hand and place it in mine, weaving our fingers together as we head toward the carnival lights and sounds.
We spent the next two hours indulging our senses with sugary and fattening fair foods, playing unbeatable carnival games—although I did win a small bear holding a red heart after the twentieth try at the ring toss game—and riding the few rides Brinly deemed “safe and nonlife-threatening.”
In my mind, it has been the perfect date.
Our hands were interlaced the entire night and as we walk back toward my car now, I can feel that buzz of electricity in the air between us. The one that’s been there since the moment I met her at the library, but has only intensified as I’ve gotten to know her.
Brinly is the perfect girl. She’s sweet and funny, and has a smokin’ body. A fairytale princess with a little dash of seductress.
I unlock the car doors and am about to open it when Brinly surprises me. She curls her fingers behind my neck, pulls me down, and locks her lips with mine.
My body dials it up a hundred degrees and I’m instantly turned on. I wrap my arms around her trim waist, fingers splayed behind, dusting over the curve of her ass. I want to sink my fingers into the flesh there and drag her jersey up to feel the soft skin that lies underneath.
Goddamn, she tastes like cotton candy and soda. So sweet that I’m getting a sugar rush from her kisses and moans.
I crowd into her, pressing her firmly against the car door, drawing my hand up her back and around to the underside of her breast.
Trailing up the sweet curve, I stroke my thumb lightly over her pebbled nipple that pokes through the material of her jersey. Her fingers tighten into my scalp and she lets out a feverish moan that meshes with my feral growl. A new and different kind of energy swirls and sizzles between us now. It’s increased in intensity and burns me to my core.
I drop my hand to the bottom hem of the jersey and burrow my hand underneath, finding the delicate flesh of her belly, thrilled with the way it ripples under my touch. She gasps into my mouth. My own stomach clenches in response and my cock throbs against the zipper of my jeans, growing hot and hard. An urgency builds like an inferno inside me like I’ve never felt before.
I glide my fingers over her belly until I find treasure when I flick a thumb over the bud of her nipple. She makes this noise of consent, murmuring “yes” against my lips when I stroke my tongue in her mouth. I want so much to do the exact same thing to her nipple.
Brin’s round breasts spill out over the cups of her bra and I’m now on a mission to cover them with my palm. I trace the lacy edge and flip the cup down to expose the fullness of her tits. We groan in synchronicity as I plump her warm fleshy globes in my hand.
“You feel so good,” I say, pressing my forehead against hers as I momentarily pause our kiss. “Just like I knew you would.”
