"I mean, I'm not trying to throw a pity party here. But if it was going to happen to anyone, it'd happen to me. Of course, I'm late to t-shirt pickup because I'm helping out someone else. And what do I get for it? Oh, there's none of my size left."
I'm sitting in the dugout with April, who's rambling beside me. She's been talking for a long time, having moved from subject to subject seemingly without taking a breath in between. I've done my best to keep up with her train of thought, but it's proven difficult with how fast it's traveling and how angry I am with Lexie.
Sure, our relationship wasn't all that deep. But still, I had put my heart into it and it stung to find out she was never that invested. It still stings. I put myself out there and was punished for it, basically, and now I just feel stupid.
She's in the field by third base, and every time I look that way, anger boils in my stomach. My eyes catch on her for the millionth time, and I can't help but bunch my fists and roll my eyes. My lip even raises in disgust.
"I mean, come on. An XL," April continues, still going. She plucks at the fabric of her shirt and lets it billow back down. "Like, really!"
"Yeah," I grumble, trying my best. "Sorry 'bout that."
She narrows her eyes and turns her head to look at me. "What's up with you?" she says. "You're…" She makes a vague gesture with her hands. "Off."
I shake my head and let out a long, loud breath. I don't know if I want to get into it with her. It's not like I don't tell her everything - I do; she's my best friend in the world and easily the person I'm closest to. I feel free to let my walls down around her. Jesus, I cried my eyes out for nights following the shooting and she held me with my head on her chest without any complaints. She's the best friend I've ever had, my partner in crime, and I didn't listen when she told me there was no way my relationship with Lexie would last.
April had been right when she said there were still feelings between Lexie and Mark. Big feelings that had no intention of going anywhere. It's not that I can't wrap my head around those kinds of feelings - even though I've never felt them myself, I understand how life-or-death they must feel. But why did I have to get caught in the crosshairs?
"I don't know," I say, shrugging.
"What is it?" she says, prompting me with a nudge to the shoulder.
Her voice is high, cute, and unassuming. She really cares about what's wrong - it's not just a question to fill the space. I smile thinking of how genuine April is; there's no facade when it comes to her. What you see is always what you get.
I shrug again, this time with less conviction.
"Come on," she says, then socks me playfully on the bicep. Her fist does nothing against the muscle, but I flash her a smile and rub the spot to pretend that it does.
"Ouch," I say. "Leave the tough guy shit for the diamond, slugger."
"Whatever," she says. "As if they'd ever let me play. Just tell me what's wrong." She sets her shoulders and sits up straight, closing her eyes with her eyebrows raised. "I'm not gonna leave you alone 'til you do."
"That's the truth," I mumble, and she lets out an incredulous-sounding laugh. I chuckle along with her and add, "I don't think this is the best place to talk."
"Then let's get out of here," she says, standing. "Come on. The game's boring, anyway."
"Yeah?" I ask, wiping my palms on my jeans. I don't know when they became sweaty, but they are and it's annoying.
"Yeah, come on," she says, and extends a hand to take mine.
"I…" I say, as I try to inconspicuously dry them, but my word vomit comes first. "Sweaty. They're all sweaty."
"Oh," she says, then drops her arm. "Okay. Let's just go. Let's get a drink. You look like you could use one."
…
"Fuck Lexie!"
I'm laughing louder than I have in a long time, and my body feels pliable, loose and bendy. I'm sitting halfway on a barstool while April stands in front of hers, an empty shot glass in one hand as she uses the other to point at me.
"You…" she bursts out, then doubles over laughing with both elbows on the stool. Her back and shoulders bounce with giggles, and I can't help but join. She's so damn cute without even trying.
"Me what?" I say.
"You…" she trails off again, trying to stand up straight while wobbling to the point of absurdity. She clings to the bar for help, eyes pinched shut tight, and throws her head back with her mouth wide open. "Just... you!"
"Me, me, me," I say. "Pshh. That's what Lexie's like. Right? Issher fault, right?"
"All," April says, hands flat in front of her while she shakes her head. She tries to turn her expression serious, but a smile plays at the corners of her lips as she tries to fight it. "All 'er fault. Every single last… bit. You," she says, pointing again.
I reach forward and wrap my hand around her finger, and she snorts while trying to ward it off. "Me," I repeat.
"You…" she says, eyelashes fluttering while her arm sways. "Are perfectly just… perfect in every single way. Jack-man. Jack-man! You're perfect, okay?"
"Shut up," I say, rolling my eyes. We've been going shot-for-shot, but I'm a lot bigger than she is. I'm drunk, but she's wasted. Absolutely gone.
"Everyone thinks so," she says, eyes swimming. She sets down the empty shot glass and bangs it on the bartop, demanding a refill.
"No, they don't," I say, rolling my eyes. "No way. No fucking way, slugger."
"Leave the 'slugger' for the baseball," she says, leaning against the counter with all of her weight. Her legs barely look dependable at this point. "Can I have more?!" she shouts, banging her glass again.
"Jesus," I say, looking away. "Breathe, loud-ass."
She takes the shot and laughs about it, and of course I do, too. When we're this drunk, we always catch the giggles from each other.
"And yes," she says. "They do. Think you're perfect. 'Cause you are."
"Shut up," I say. "No one thinks that."
"Well," she says. "I do. And tonight, I'm the only one that matters."
I nod, raising my eyebrows. "You're the only one that should matter ever."
She takes a big breath and climbs back up on the stool, still facing me. She lets it out and, while her breath smells strongly of alcohol, there's still something sweet about it, too.
"Charmer," she says, and while the counter is to her left, she bends her right elbow and makes a move to rest it on the wood. There's nothing to catch her, though, so her elbow drops through thin air and sends her body weight toppling to the floor.
"Shit!" I bellow, clambering off my own stool while rushing to her aid. She's crumpled on the floor with the skirt of the sundress bunched around the tops of her thighs. She's laughing so hard her face has turned red and she's not making any sound at all. "April, Jesus! Are you okay?"
She opens her mouth wide and takes a huge gulp of air, clutching her chest while she wheezes. She bends her knees and makes the dress hitch higher, so I do my best to avert my eyes while simultaneously keeping her decent. I tug on the skirt so other patrons won't see, but she seems bent on making a fool out of the both of us.
I can't find it within myself to be annoyed with her, though. We're having too much fun for any bad feelings to sneak in.
And we're apparently having too much fun for the bartender's liking, too, because he comes around the outside of the bar and stands over us - where April still lies on the floor and I'm crouching next to her.
"You two," he barks. "Out of here. Done."
"No," April whines, throwing her head to one side before sitting up. "I'll behave, promise!"
"Nope," he says, pointing towards the door. "Go home. Sober up. Outta here."
"Three strikes," I say, and April lets out a loud guffaw of laughter. "We're out. Come on, stand up," I say.
I take her hand even though mine is still sweaty. She stumbles to her feet and straightens the skirt of her dress haphazardly, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders to keep her from falling over again.
"You're no fun!" she shouts at the bartender over her shoulder, but I hurry us out before he makes our punishment worse.
Luckily, we live in walking distance of the bar. There's no way either of us are in any shape to be driving, but we don't have a ton of luck in the walking department, either. April trips now and again, and when she trips, so do I. We laugh about it, but it makes our trek ten times slower.
When we finally make it in the door, it's like our feet are made of Jell-O. She falls over herself while trying to get her shoes off, and I do the same - we don't even try to be quiet, whether Alex is home or not.
I feel drunker here than I did at the bar for some reason, and I need to hold onto the banister for support. April is sitting on the stairs, staring at the front door like she expects someone to burst through it at any moment.
"Food," I say. "We should eat some food."
"Yeah…" she says, flopping back into the stairs with her legs splayed out in front of her. "A big-ass pizza from Pizza Hut."
"They're closed," I say. "We have leftovers in the fridge, though."
"Ooh," she says, perking up. "Beatcha there."
We race to the kitchen, pushing and shoving along the way, and make it there out of breath and giggly once again. She opens the fridge and pulls out the Tupperware container full of cold pizza, and cracks it open in the middle of the island.
"Bon appetit," she says, gesturing elaborately with her arms.
We each grab a piece of pizza and I hold mine up for a cheers. "To…uh..." I say, then squint my eyes as I'm deep in thought. "Fuck Lexie!"
April's face opens up in a big smile that matches the happiness in her eyes, the gleeful, drunk joy with no inhibitions. "Yeah, fuck Lexie!" she chimes in.
She takes a big bite and leans forward with her elbows on the island as she chews quietly. I watch her face change as an idea must occur to her, and her eyes turn mischievous.
"Except there'll be no more 'fuck Lexie' for you," she says, letting her wrist go limp so the hand that holds her pizza goes slack. "Uh-oh."
"Yeah, whatever," I say, then roll my eyes. Sex with her wasn't life-changing by any means, but it was nice.
"What are you gonna do?" April asks.
I shrug. She makes a jacking-off gesture with one hand, a suggestive look on her face, but I bat it away and say, "Shut up."
She snickers, pressing her chin to her chest after taking another big bite. "Guess you'll have to find someone else to bang," she says.
"Yeah," I grumble. "Fuck Lexie."
She makes a small sound and her shoulders bounce once. She sets the pizza down and leans further forward, arching her back as she does. "Maybe you could fuck me instead," she says, voice more suggestive than I've ever heard it.
I look her way, thoroughly surprised. She sets the pizza down and lays her hands flat on the countertop, watching me with unblinking eyes through thick lashes. Her face is flushed from the alcohol, but the drunk giggling has stopped. She's more serious right now than she's been all night.
I clear my throat and decide to go along with it. April has never been one to say stuff like that, but the look in her eyes tells me she means what she said. All the blood rushes to my crotch because of it; after she says that, I can't help but let my eyes graze her body. Her cleavage shows just slightly in the dip of her dress, her freckled shoulders are on display because of the spaghetti straps and the arch of her back is defined and prominent. It ends with an ass I've always wanted to get my hands on - I've just never let myself admit it.
"Yeah?" I say, voice low as I get closer.
She keeps her eyes on me and nods, pulling her lower lip into her mouth. She turns her head as I come up behind her, then I make a bold, drunk move and take her hips in my hands.
I've always known she was a small person, but I've never laid hands on her to find out just how small. Her hips are birdlike and fragile in my hands; I can feel the bones through the thin fabric of her dress, and I'm suddenly so overtaken with an alpha-male urge to bend her over and pound into her until she screams my name.
I let a long breath from my nose and close my eyes for a moment to center myself. Whatever we're doing, I want it to continue. It's not over yet, this drunken testing.
"Mm-hmm," she says, and arches her back even further. With her hips still in my hands, that means her skirt lifts a bit and her ass presses closer - dangerously close.
"You're a virgin," I say, and run a hand up her back. I keep my palm flat and begin at the base of her spine, rippling the fabric as I go higher and center it between her shoulder blades where her skin is exposed. I move even higher and take the base of her neck, wrapping my fingers around the sides, and listen to her breath catch.
"I don't have to be," she murmurs. "I don't wanna be."
I tighten my grip and pitch forward, connecting the front of my hips to the round of her ass. She feels amazing pressed against me, soft in the right places and firm in others, and I'm well on the way to an erection. I'm halfway there, having slid right between her ass cheeks, and I'm pretty sure she's only wearing a thong underneath this dress.
"Fuck," I mutter. "You'd want that?"
She nods subtly and takes one arm away from the island to reach behind her, where she wraps her fingers around the hem of her skirt and slowly lifts it up, exposing more of her creamy thighs. She smiles deviously, and with a flick of her wrist, sends the skirt up to rest around her waist and pool at the small of her back.
I was right. She is wearing a thong, and it's dark purple with a thick band of lace around the waist. I don't tend to do the laundry around here so I never knew she owned such underwear, but I wouldn't have ever expected her to in the first place.
"Jesus, April," I say, then drag my thumbs over the patterned material before slipping my fingertips just beneath it.
"You're teasing me," she says, lifting up to push her palms against the island.
I grit my teeth and bump my hips against her ass, then watch it bounce back just slightly. The supple, round skin jiggles a bit, and I throw my head back because of how fucking hot she is. It's not that I never knew, but I never allowed myself to see her this way. She's my best friend.
But now, she's my best friend who's standing in front of me, bent over, basically asking me to fuck her. I don't know what's going on, but I'm not complaining.
"Do you like the way that feels?" I ask, shoving her hips forward so they're flush with the island while leaving no space behind her, either. I'm fully hard now, tight between her cheeks, and the whimper that comes from her tells me she's feeling everything that I am.
I make a move and slide my hands up her sides, over the bumps of her ribs, and around the front to grab two handfuls of her breasts. I've obviously never done it before so I'm not sure how she'll respond, but I have a feeling it'll be positive. The alcohol swims between us to make our thought processes foggy, but I know we want the same thing. This is just one step closer.
"Oh, god," she says, and overlaps her hands with mine. She isn't wearing a bra - with the type of sundress she has on, there's no room for one.
Her breasts are small, but they have a nice weight to them. With the way she curves her back and lets her eyes flutter closed, I can guess that she's never been touched like this.
I turn my head and press my lips to the side of her neck - she tastes very subtly of vanilla, and I think it's her body wash. I've seen it in the shower next to her light pink loofah, golden with flecks of sparkles in it. When I look close enough at her skin or when the light hits it just right, I can see them reflecting off of it. I just never thought I'd be so close to smell it.
I open my mouth then and drag my tongue across her pulse point, which makes her fingers bend across the wood in search of something to grab onto. I don't stop, seeing how it's affected her - I only grip her breasts harder.
"God, Jackson," she says, letting her head fall back to rest on my shoulder. "I think I'm wet."
I smile against her neck, running the tip of my nose across her throat, and rub circles over her nipples with my thumbs. They poke through the fabric of her dress shamelessly, and when they're prominent enough, I pinch them between two fingers and pluck at them until she moans and turns limp against me.
"Okay," she breathes. "Now, I know… I know I am."
"Should I check?" I ask.
"Check?" she asks, head thrown to one side so I have as much leeway to her neck as I need. "How?"
"I'd touch you," I say, taking one hand away from her chest to sneak it down to her stomach. In the front, her skirt has fallen back down, but since my hips are pressed so close to her ass, the fabric is bunched between our bodies there still. "Would you want that?"
"Yeah," she says, reaching up to take my wrist. "Yes. Yes… you can. Please… please, touch me."
I reach lower, blood pumping loud in my ears, and pull up the fabric of her dress to hold it in place with my left hand. With my right one, the moving one, I slide my fingers inside the front of her underwear to find her skin completely shaven and soft - and, just like I thought, soaking wet.
"You are..." I say, lips against her ear as I tease her folds with the pads of my fingers. "So wet."
"It's 'cause I want you," she says.
With a quick snap, I flip her around to face me. Now, our hips are lined up and she can probably feel my erection in a much different place, one a bit more intimate. It doesn't intimidate her - instead, it seems to encourage her. She wraps her arms around my middle and pulls me closer, and I pitch my pelvis forward to trap her against the countertop, sandwiched against it with the weight of my body.
"I want you, too," I say, my face inching closer and close to hers. I can feel her breath teasing my lips and it's driving me crazy. She smells like pizza and alcohol, which wouldn't be all that special or alluring on anyone else, but on her it's like a drug. "Can I kiss you?"
She opens her mouth and a smile breaks her face in two, then she starts to laugh.
"What?" I ask, feeling a stab of nervousness in my gut.
"Nothing," she says, shaking her head. "It's just… you've already felt me up and stuck your hand in my underwear… and you ask if you can kiss me." She looks up, meets my eyes, and rests her hands on my chest. "Yes, you can kiss me. I wanna kiss you so damn bad."
"Yeah?" I say, lifting my hands to cup her jaw.
She nods, and I match her smile. When I lean forward and press my lips to hers, I capture the bottom one between both of mine and relish how soft and plush it is, then open my mouth a bit to deepen the feeling.
She presses herself closer, rubbing against me like a cat, and slides one arm around to flatten a hand against the small of my back. She takes a deep breath through her nose as we continue to kiss, and tilts her head to the side while tentatively touching her tongue to mine.
I return the gesture while letting my hands gravitate to her ass again, where I grab two firm handfuls and squeeze. I'd never realized what a great ass she has, and now there's no way I'll ever get it out of my head.
When we come up for air, she's about to say something when we hear the sound of the front door coming open.
"Shit," she says, licking her bottom lip. "That's… is that Alex, you think?"
"I don't care," I say. "Let's go upstairs.
We dodge Alex and the awkward conversation that would inevitably go along with seeing him, and stumble upstairs clumsily, hand-in-hand. Trying to keep as quiet as we can, I cover my mouth to stifle my giggles and April presses her lips together while following me to my room.
I shut and lock the door behind us, because the last thing I want is to be interrupted tonight. When I turn around, I see that she's already stripped and is now standing in the middle of the room dressed in only that lace thong, no bra. Her hands cover her bare breasts, though, while she looks at me with anticipation.
"I can't be the only one naked here," she says, blinking.
"Right, yeah," I say, unbuckling my belt to get my jeans on the floor. "I just…" I kick them away to join the other dirty clothes before going for my shirt. "I just wanna make sure you're sure. You know, the whole virgin thing…"
"I already told you," she says. "And Jackson… it's you. Come on, it's you… and me. Me and you. Why would I wanna give it to anyone else?"
"Are you sure it's not just 'cause we're drunk?"
She sighs and her shoulders move along with it. "The only thing that's different 'cause I'm drunk is that I turned brave," she says, hands still in the same place. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."
I raise my eyebrows, dressed in just my boxers now. "You have?"
She doesn't answer with words, she just shoots me a look. I wish she'd move her hands down. I want to see what her bare chest looks like so fucking bad.
"So…" I say, trying to walk steadily and failing miserably. "You're saying, you jacked off thinking about me, too? I wasn't the only one?"
Her eyes widen and her lips part with shock, hands loosening a bit because of what I've said. "You…?" she stammers, cheeks blushing even redder than the alcohol has already made them. "You did that?"
"Yeah," I say, hardly able to believe I'm admitting that out loud.
Too many times have I been in bed, in the shower, or simply just bored, and started thinking about April. April, and that body I'd never seen but always wanted to after getting a tiny glimpse of something mundane. Like her shoulders, dripping wet as she walked through the hallway in a towel after a shower, or a strip of her belly when she tried to reach something from a high cupboard, or the swell of her breasts when she wore an especially low-cut top. I'd start thinking about what all of her might look like, and what I'd love to do to her. And from there, well… the story tells itself.
I walk closer and she stays put, eyeing me. "Do you ever touch yourself?" I ask, and it's a legitimate question. I've never heard any salacious sounds coming from her room or the bathroom, but it's a human desire - there's no reason she shouldn't.
"I've… tried," she says. "It's never really worked."
"No?" I say, interest piqued.
She shakes her head and I close the distance between us, rubbing her arms to try and get her comfortable again. I can tell, with the lack of clothes, that she's stiffened a bit. The air has changed from downstairs, and I want to kill Alex for that.
"Have you had an orgasm before?" I ask.
"No, I…" she says, stuttering. "I've tried. I… get turned on and stuff… I just can never get to the…" She widens her eyes and shrugs, putting across the point without actually saying it.
"You get turned on?" I say, sitting down while watching her do the same.
"I'm human, Jackson," she says, sounding defensive as she crosses her arms to continue to cover herself.
"Well, yeah," I say. "But… like, what do you think about?"
She gives me a pointed look and bites the corner of her lower lip, then lets it pop back in place. "You really wanna know?" she asks.
I nod.
"I think about…" she says, sounding dreamy. "Alex. I think about Alex so much. Just like… touching me. Touching me all over. Literally all over my whole entire body."
I cringe, and she bursts out laughing. It only takes me a split second to realize she's fucking with me, and I reach out to shove her shoulder.
"Fuck you!" I say. "Seriously, fuck you."
She keeps going, head thrown back in wild laughter, and her arms finally move away from her chest. I let my eyes land on her breasts, which are round around the edges and pointed in the middle, with light pink areolas and dusky nipples. I want to get my mouth on them so bad and suck her to an orgasm, right this very second.
"I'm trying to get you to," she says, giving me a sultry look with her chin to her chest. She doesn't do anything to cover up now, and it's sexy as hell. I love it when she gets confident, because she has every reason to be.
"Alright, then," I say, lifting onto my knees. "Lay back."
"Right now?" she asks.
I set my weight down. "Unless you'd rather wait."
She shakes her head, expression turning serious.
"Then lay back," I say, and this time she follows through. She sets her head on my flat pillow covered with a green pillowcase and watches me, the tips of her fingers resting over the swells of her breasts.
I'm positioned between her legs, my head at waist-level. I put my hands on her thighs and she flinches, never tearing her eyes away from my face.
"What are you gonna do?" she asks. "Are you going down on me?"
I nod and turn my head, casually kissing the soft inside of her leg. She widens them a bit and blinks slowly, smiling without showing teeth when I rub my thumbs in circles over her angular hip bones.
"No one's ever seen it before," she whispers. "Me. Down there."
"I know," I say, scooting closer.
"You'll be the first," she says.
"I know," I say again, dragging my nose across the soft spot between her thighs, the center of her that holds all the feelings she has no idea about yet. "Are you okay with it still?"
She nods, slowly and surely. "It's shaved," she says.
"I know," I say, for a third time. "Remember, I touched you."
"Oh, yeah," she says, with a soft little giggle.
I smile and kiss her core over the damp cotton of her underwear. I don't rush - I press my lips against her slowly, nudging my face closer so there's more friction, and she keens atop the mattress as the blood pumps stronger through her body. When I break the kiss and pull my lips away, there's new moisture that's deepening the purple color of the fabric between her legs.
"I'm gonna take them off now," I say, and she nods to give me permission.
She lifts her hips to help get the underwear off, and suddenly, my best friend is completely naked before me. I take a moment to drink in the sight of her - the soft, flushed pink color of the most intimate part of her body, and the freckles I never thought to expect. She's adorable, even here.
I press her thighs wider and she complies easily. I open my mouth wide and exhale hot air over her, and her lower belly twitches with the feeling. I feel accomplished already, and I've barely done anything. I haven't even touched her yet.
When I do, she lets me know just how good it feels. She lets out a long, high-pitched, relieved-sounding moan that sounds like she just broke into a new dimension, and lifts her hips roughly so they jolt against my working mouth. I know what I'm doing when it comes to oral sex, and it's giving me more pleasure than she knows to be able to make her feel like this.
My chin moves up and down rapidly while I suck on her, and I massage her thighs as I go. She keeps a good grip on my shoulders, squeezing tight when something feels good and going completely slack when it feels amazing.
"Mmm… Jackson!" she shrieks. Her breath comes in uneven gusts, rattling her chest and making her breasts bounce - it's tantalizing. She's tantalizing.
"April," I mirror, and smile against her heat. "Mmm… April, April, April."
She spreads her legs as far as they'll go, keeping a flat foot in the middle of my back. She flexes and digs her heel into my spine, which tells me I'm doing something right, and I decide it's time to slip past the hood of her clit and suck on it to make her come.
Once I get near it, it's over for her. She'd been moaning and whimpering before, but now she goes completely silent while her body twitches, jerks, and comes apart - with her hands pressed against her face and her mouth wide open, if I didn't know better, I'd think she was having a seizure. She can't stop moving, not even when she starts to come down, it's like she's trying to escape from her own body.
For a while after, she just lies there panting, thighs spread apart, trying to come back to herself. I stay where I am, too, and press benign kisses over her outer lips and vulva. I don't use tongue, I don't go inside, but I keep kissing her to let her know what a good job she did, and how infatuated I am with this part of her. I want her to feel worshiped - and I want to be the one worshiping her, always.
"You gave me my first orgasm," she says, reaching between her thighs to tuck her hand there. She rubs her lips slowly, casually, and I lift her hand away so I can suck on her fingers. She's surprised by the action, I can tell, but she lets me continue with strange fascination.
"I can give you your second," I say, pushing myself upward to drop slow, intimate kisses over her belly. I pull small portions of skin between my teeth and run my tongue over the dip of her bellybutton, then draw circles around it until the peach fuzz stands on end.
"Are you gonna fuck me now?" she asks.
"I already did with my mouth," I answer. "But yeah, I wanna be inside you so bad. Jesus."
I cover her body with mine and bury my face in her neck, palming one breast while sucking on her collarbones. She wraps her legs around my waist and pushes my boxers down as best she can, and my erection springs free and presses against the place where I want it to go. Without warning, she shoves a hand between our bodies and wraps her fist around the shaft, which makes me jolt forward.
"Fuck," I grunt, though her hand doesn't move. She has no idea what she's doing, but I assume she's just as overcome with feeling as I am. "Wait. Let me get a condom."
I reach to the nightstand drawer while she watches me, arms strewn above her head now. When I come back, I roll it on and her eyes burn between my legs, staring intently at the part of my body that'll be inside her.
"Jackson," she whispers. "Do you think it'll hurt?"
I lick my lips and bend forward to kiss the flat space between her breasts. I feel her heartbeat just underneath, reminding me how alive we both are.
"I don't know," I say. "I've never been with a virgin before."
"I might bleed," she says. "Is that okay?"
I smile softly and frame the side of her face with one hand. "Everything about you is okay, baby," I say, and her eyes melt a bit at the term of endearment that came out involuntarily. I'm not sure where it came from, but I don't want to take it back. "More than okay. More like… fuckin' awesome."
"Okay," she breathes, and runs her fingernails over the muscles in my arms. The feeling gives me goosebumps, and I let myself get lost in the sensation. "I'm ready."
"Alright, slugger," I say, recalling the nickname from earlier, from the game.
April looks me dead in the eyes. "No…" she says, then busts up laughing. "Don't call me that right now. Doesn't work."
I start laughing, too, letting my forehead plunk down on the plane of her chest. I lie on top of her, both of us giggling, for the longest time before anything happens, and when I finally come up, tears are streaming down her face from how hard she's laughing.
"But I liked it when you called me 'baby,'" she says, suddenly serious again.
"Okay," I say, then kiss her on the mouth. I feel like I've kissed her body in plenty of places, but I haven't given enough attention to her face. I want to make sure every inch of skin gets paid attention to, even if it takes all night. "Then are you ready, baby?"
"Yeah," she says, sucking on her lower lip. I tug it out and she kisses my finger, and while I keep steady eye contact with her, I lower my hips and sink inside her.
I let myself get lost in the way her body feels, and she welcomes me with all her limbs wrapped around me. She presses her face into my neck that's begun to sweat and breathes against my throat, teeth grazing my skin just slightly while I begin to pump my hips and make slow love to my best friend.
She clings to me like her life depends on it, fingernails digging into the back of my neck, and leaves kisses everywhere she can reach.
"You feel so good, baby," I say. "I can't even tell you… how…"
"So do you," she replies, rubbing my calf with the arch of one foot.
"Does it hurt?" I ask, burying myself to the hilt and staying there for a long moment before pulling halfway out again. "Is it okay?"
"It's perfect," she says. "It stopped hurting."
I smile and continue to move, lifting one hand to keep a good hold on her breast while I go. I rub the nipple in circles and get my mouth on it after it's hard, sucking hard until she moans right in my ear.
"That feel good?" I ask, lips moving against her areola.
"Yeah," she whimpers, trying to match the rhythm of my hips with her own.
Encouraged by her words, I suck on the other breast just as I had the first. She grips the back of my head and pulls me roughly closer, then bends both knees towards her face in a quick, desperate manner. She's getting close.
"Kiss me," she whispers, practically a plea. "I think I'm gonna come… can you kiss me?"
Of course, I don't deny her. I press my lips to hers - rough and passionate, and hold the dip of her waist while I go harder, pounding my hips to a steady rhythm and lifting them to hopefully hit her g-spot.
She opens her mouth when her orgasm starts, and I suck on her lower lip for a moment before biting her chin, then her jaw, then the side of her neck. Her whole body tightens while she climaxes, and she wraps her legs around my back as high as they can go while I continue to fuck her and find my own orgasm - and luckily, it doesn't take long.
After it's over, the last thing I want is for us to be finished. But as she lies beneath me, coated in sweat with our bodily fluids mixed on our thighs, I know that a clean-up will do us both good. So, I pull out, tie the condom off and throw it away, then hurry to the bathroom bare-ass naked in search of a washcloth to get wet and bring back.
As I'm hurrying back to my bedroom, though, I hear Alex's voice.
"Fuck, dude! Put some clothes on, Jesus Christ."
I spin around and cover my crotch, shooting Alex a death glare. I continue to back up towards my room, not planning on responding, but April's voice interrupts the silence.
"Jackson?" she calls. "I bled a little."
Alex's face totally changes - his eyes grow wide and his mouth hangs open, he's totally shocked.
"No fucking way," he says. "You and… holy shit, dude. Did you just… did you just fuck Kepner? Did you just deflower Virgin Mary?"
"Fuck off," I say, and continue backing up. "Just… just fuck off."
He laughs, loud and brash. "Dude!" he exclaims.
"Shut up," I say, then roll my eyes and turn around. Soon, I shut the door to my bedroom to shut him out again.
"Was that Alex?" April asks.
I look to the bed to find her lying there, still naked, spread out and beautiful. She's doing nothing to cover up, and I hope she stays like this forever.
"Yeah," I say. "Shithead."
"What'd he say?"
"Doesn't matter," I reply. "Did you say you were bleeding?"
"I did," she says, sitting up with her hands supporting from behind. "It got on the sheets, just a tiny bit. I have stain remover, if you-"
"Don't worry about it," I say. "Not right now."
"Are you sure?" she asks. "I can go get it."
"No, baby," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Stay."
"I feel bad," she says, covering her core with both hands like she's suddenly embarrassed of it.
"Don't," I say, and gently move her hands away. "It's natural. It's fine."
She blinks up at me, unsureness in her eyes.
"It's fine," I assure her, and she must take my word for it because she lays back down. Her hands stay where they are, though. "Let me clean you up," I say.
"I can do it, if you don't want to," she says.
"I want to," I say, with a smile. "Just relax."
She watches me and moves her hands while I run the warm, wet cloth between her legs, over her thighs, over the very core of her. I clean off the blood, the fluids that came from both of us, and freshen myself up with the other side after. I set it aside when I'm done, then spend a moment just sitting beside her in the quiet.
Then, she speaks. "Can we…" she says, then her voice dies away. She clears her throat, tries her best to meet my eyes, then tries again. "Can we cuddle?" she asks.
Something bursts inside my chest when she asks me that. "Of course," I say, then climb over her to get on the other side. "Come here, baby."
Happily, she gravitates to my side and wraps one arm around my middle, using the crook of my shoulder as a pillow. I turn on my side and grab the bend of her knee so she'll throw one leg over me, and I feel content only when almost every part of her body is touching mine.
We spend a long time not saying anything, but not sleeping, either. She tickles my chest with her fingernails and I stroke her hair, thinking a thousand things but unable to say a single one of them. How can I be expected to put all these feelings into words? This started out as a drunk decision, but at the moment - with one hand running through my best friend's hair and the other planted on her ass - I've never felt more sober.
"Was it okay?" April asks, out of the blue, her voice just a tiny peep. "Was I good?"
I smile, eyes closing, as I press my lips to her hairline. I try and think of words that will encompass everything inside my head, but I don't think anything could do this moment justice.
But then, I remember how the night began, and I remember who I'm talking to. I'm talking to my person - the one whose virginity I just took, the one who I think I might have feelings for, and the one who always laughs at my stupid jokes.
So, I say, "You hit it out of the park."