Austin

I'm speechless. She's literally rendered me completely without speech.

"Just for tonight?" I manage to croak out when her confident look starts to falter under my stupid, stupid silence.

"What else do you want?"

Fuck, so much, Ally, I think, but so I don't scare her off, I say, "I'd like to date you."

"You told me you were a shitty boyfriend before."

I'm not the wordsmith she is. I want to put my true feelings out there as best I can, but I've never had to say anything like this before. Not even to Kira did I articulate my feelings, but looking back that's probably because I didn't have many beyond, she's a nice girl and a good lay.

I've had plenty of sex since then but nothing like the kiss in the kitchen. Nothing like Ally. Her chestnut highlights shine with its own sort of light, and I can't stop myself from curling a wayward lock around my finger. "Yeah, I freely admit I sucked at the boyfriend thing before, and you have every reason to think I'm going to fail at this, but I'm going into my senior year. I've been doing the practice, school, game thing for three years now. I think I can add in a girlfriend to the mix without throwing everything off."

"I don't know." She hesitates. "A date?"

"Yep. Movie. Dinner. Long walks on the beach and all that nice stuff. Maybe even take a trip down to Orlando, if you're game."

She's silent too long, and I don't have the first clue what's going on in her head. I'm hopeful she's going to say yes, but the longer I get nothing, the more worried I become.

"Admit it. You're curious. Our kiss was hot the other night," I remind her. So hot that I've been thinking of it nonstop.

"My friend Carrie says players like you only have one night stands because your enormous egos can't handle knowing that you aren't good in bed."

"Your friend Carrie has never slept with me."

"She's one of the few then."

I walked into that one. "Then you owe it to yourself to give me one night and see if I'm worth it. One night to see if we're even compatible. How about that?"

If she won't agree to a date, then I'll have to use tonight to convince her that whatever risk grade she's assigned to me is outweighed by the rewards I can provide.

Dusk settles in, and the newly lit campus lights give her a fairy glow. Ally, you're sleeping in the right bed tonight. Her eyes fix on my face, and she studies me for at least two long breaths. She ends her inspection with a firm nod.

Her somber face switches instantly, and she gives me a brilliant smile. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, one night."

She takes the lead, marching briskly toward her apartment. "Do you have condoms?" she asks. "Because I don't."

"If I say yes, are you putting a check in the con column?" I ask warily.

"No, it'd save us time. Otherwise we'll have to stop somewhere."

"Maybe we should stop anyway," I suggest because I only have the one. I've carried a condom in my wallet since I was twelve. My mom gave me the first one after I had my first embarrassing wet dream, and she found me shoving my sheets into the washing machine.

"Why? Don't you have any?" she asks.

"I only have one." I emphasize the number. Her eyes widen.

"You think we're going to need more than one?" She laughs.

Some guys' nuts might have shriveled up. I view this as a challenge. "Ally, we're going to need at least three."

"No way," she scoffs, but as she realizes I'm not kidding even a little, her laughter turns to skepticism. "Really?"

I resist rubbing my hands together. "You can keep count."

We stop at the store and buy a box of condoms. The clerk smirks and starts to make a dumbass comment but between Ally's withering look and my warning glare, he wisely rings us up silently and tucks the box into a brown paper bag.

"I forget sometimes that you're a world-class athlete," she mentions as we climb the steps to her apartment. "And sex is an athletic event. You know Paul Brown believed women shouldn't be allowed around his Cleveland team because they sapped the players' energy."

"First, the only athletic event I've been involved in for the last couple of weeks has been seeing how much I can drink in one night and second, please, I want you to sap my energy. I want you to sap me until I'm dry."

"You can stop now," she says repressively. "I get it."

I guess my dirty-talk skills need work. We stop at her door. As she fits her key into the lock, she says, "I have roommates, so you'll need to be quiet."

I run a finger across my lips. "Done."

Ally doesn't really get it, not yet at least. But I want her bad enough that I'd do practically anything to get her clothes off and us on her bed.

For all her worry, the apartment is dead silent when she opens the door. Her roommates are either hiding in their rooms or they're at dinner. Given the quiet in the apartment, I'm guessing dinner.

I help Ally out of her coat, then take mine off and drape it over my arm. I'm not sure where she wants me to put my stuff.

"You can hang your jacket up and, um, take your boots off?" It's more question than instruction.

I like that she's unsure what to do with me, that this event is foreign enough there's no practiced routine of where the visitor's coat and shoes go. I toe off my boots and drape my jacket over hers.

"Do you want to watch some TV?" I ask, trying to give her an out and desperately hoping she doesn't take it.

"No. I don't want that, do you?"

"No." I lean down and brush my lips across hers because it's been a while since I've kissed her and I need to feel her sweetness against me. She sways into me, her body telling me all I need to know. "Lead the way," I mouth against her lips.

"First door."

A floor lamp flicks on when she hits a switch. Her room is small and white, and I feel sort of like Gulliver amongst the Lilliputians. "Your bed is really small," I say inanely.

"Maybe you're too big," she suggests.

I give her a cheeky wink. "Said no guy ever."

Fortunately, she laughs. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No." My need for food, water, football? They seem like distant desires in the face of the fierce ache I have for her. I feel like I've wanted to touch her for forever, even though I've only known her a few days. When she starts to pull her sweater over her head, I stop her. I sit down at her desk chair, which feels miniature. I pat my leg. "I would like you to come here."

She walks over and stops in front of me. I position her between my legs and lay my head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. It flutters, excited and nervous against my ear. My own pounds like a herd of stampeding horses is trying to escape from my chest.

With shaky fingers, I slide her sweater over her head. Underneath she wears a thin silky thing and no bra. Her pert nipples poke against the fabric. I run my hands up under the material, tracing the bumps of her spine, the jut of her shoulder blades. Her eyelids shutter down when I reach the tender base of the back of her neck.

I don't want to rush this. I might not get another chance to touch her again.

The tiny strap of her top slides down her shoulder, the fabric snagging on one erect peak. My mouth waters, and I can't wait another second without laying my mouth against her bare skin. I nudge the fabric down with my chin. She helps me by wriggling her arm out from the strap, first one and then the other.

I take another moment to admire her. "You're beautiful," I say, unable to keep the reverence out of my voice. "So beautiful."

Her fingers find their way to my scalp, scratching and scraping through the strands then lightly pushing me forward.

I blow a stream of hot air against one nipple and then the other. She shudders, and it's like a live electric feed running from her body into mine.

Fucking Christ, but I want her so damn bad.

I take one succulent tip into my mouth and cover the other with my hand. She's smaller than I expected but twice as delicious, and as I swirl my tongue around her nipple, I can't help but think she was made perfectly for me.

Her fingers sink into my scalp, pulling me closer. We both shift. I slide to the edge of the chair; she straddles me. I keep sucking, and she keeps pressing closer and closer.

There's a moan that fills the air, a guttural sound of need and want. I don't know if it's mine or hers. It's probably mine. In my life, I can't remember ever wanting anything as much I want her.

I've hungered for wins on the field, championships, success, but never a person. Not until Ally.


Ally

The suction on my nipples is making me dizzy. I can't recall if I've ever felt this much pleasure from having my nips sucked. I swear I can feel it between my legs with each deep pull.

I never really doubted he'd be good in bed. He knows all too well how to use his body to maximize its athletic ability. And sex is an athletic event. But guys can be selfish, and no matter how well they know their own bodies, it doesn't mean they care to know how to work another's body.

But Austin isn't selfish in any way. He's incredibly giving, and I enjoy being a recipient of that benevolence right now. Any other guy would have me on the bed, my jeans down around my ankles and my panties pulled aside. Which is not to say I don't want to do that with Austin, but his unhurried manner is a welcome surprise.

Him kissing my breasts isn't a step toward a good fuck. It's just pleasurable and wonderful in its own right. Just like our first kiss. Just like sitting on his bed and talking. He savors each moment.

And I can tell by the press of his erection against my stomach that he's enjoying the hell out of this. I rock against him, relishing the pressure of his dick, even through the layers of denim and cotton.

He pulls back, and the cool air against my wet skin is its own kind of erotic sensation.

His fingers slide into my waistband, under my panties. "Don't worry. I'm going to do all the work."

"You will, huh?"

"Yeah." He surges to his feet and in two steps drops my ass on the bed. He strips down so fast. His shirt flies off his head and his jeans and underwear fall to the floor in no time. He stands before me like the "small g" god that he jokingly called himself.

His body is perfectly formed, a testament to a careful diet and nonstop workouts. He leans forward, his shaft hanging heavy between us, and plants a hand on either side of my waist.

"I can't wait to get my mouth on you and test out how good you taste."

He lifts me with one hand and somehow drags down my jeans with the other until I'm wearing nothing but my camisole around my waist and a pair of damp lavender lace panties.

"I can't wait to feel you and test out how wet you are."

"Austin," I warn.

"What? Does the dirty talk embarrass you?" He slips a finger between my legs. "I told you I like to talk during sex. Besides, even if you're turning redder than the Oklahoma uniforms, it turns you on. I'm going to suck on your clit here." He rubs my clit, and I can't deny the flood of excitement that washes through me. "And then tongue-fuck your sweet pussy until you come all over my face."

I grow wetter and redder with each word. "Austin, shut up."

He laughs and strokes me again over my panties. "You know this is the Aussie kiss. Because I'm doing you down under."

"Shut up!" I repeat with a half groan, half laugh.

"I don't know if I can. Maybe you have some idea about what I can do with my mouth." His tone is light but his gaze is hot and hungry. Another finger presses against my aching core, then those two fingers sweep my panties away to touch my bare skin.

But the touch is maddeningly light. He looks at me, waiting.

I give in because I want this so bad. "You should get on your knees and put your mouth on my... pussy." I push the word past my lips.

His eyes light up in mischief. "Yes, ma'am."

He does just as I ordered. He falls to his knees and pulls the rest of my clothes off. And as he did with my breasts, he takes his time.

First he looks, telling me how gorgeous I am. Then he traces the rough pad of his finger over every peak and valley. I can hear the obvious pleasure and delight he takes in just looking at me, and when he finally does place his lips and tongue against me, it's as if he's never done anything so marvelous in his life. It's crazy how good this feels.

I lie back, close my eyes and give myself over to Austin. His hands dig into my butt, simultaneously kneading me and pulling me closer. In his strong grip, I don't need to be careful because he's there to catch me, to carry me, to hold me. And as regressive as that is, it feels wonderful.

The release starts in my toes and winds its way up, twisting and curling until I'm gasping for air. I tug on his head, wanting him to let go, but he shakes me off and delves deeper. His tongue arrows into me, drawing the tension so tight that it's either give in or implode. I come so hard I nearly pass out.

He holds me as I shake, still drinking me down as if he can't get enough. Only when I've calmed enough to open my eyes does he draw back. His mouth is glistening with the evidence of my enjoyment.

A few seconds later and he's on the bed, condom in hand.

"How's the risk/reward assessment going?"

"I'm taking points away if you keep bringing that up," I warn.

"Fair enough. Which one of us is going to put this on the big guy?" He grins, but there's a tension behind that smile, a feral need that he's trying to hide so I won't be scared off.

I raise my hand, and he slaps the condom into my palm. "Of course you call it big."

I place one corner of the foil between my teeth and tear.

"Even if I had a tiny dick, I'd say it was a big one. I'd lie to myself until I believed it. No one can walk around with any confidence if they believe their dick is too small."

"You don't seem to lack confidence, that's for sure." He's entirely comfortable in his nudity.

"Because I'm big." He even reaches down to pat his dick, which is, as he describes, big. And actually sort of beautiful. The mushroom-shaped head is flushed an angry red, and the veins push prominently against the skin. He looks... virile and manly and the opposite of me. And even though I'm not one for male nudity, the sight of him on my bed-unclothed and erect-is mouthwatering.

I position the reservoir over the ruddy head of his penis and begin to roll it down. I don't get much past the head before he puts a hand out to halt me.

"Wait," he says and pulls my hand away. He holds it to the side while he finishes covering himself with the condom.

"What?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he flashes them open, the bare hunger is no longer shielded. "I'm too close to the edge and would like to be inside you for at least a couple of seconds before I blow my lid."

He tries to smile, but there's too much want there to be disguised, and it instills a confidence in me, a surety, that I never really had with a male before. I crook my finger. "I figure you're good for another round. You did buy a whole box."

"I did, didn't I?" He dives for me.

I might be wet, but it's a tight fit. Partly because I haven't had sex in a while and partly because he is big. His dick is proportional to the rest of him. Big hands, big feet, broad shoulders. Poised over me, one hand braced by my shoulder and the other guiding the broad head past my entrance, all I can see is him.

He works himself in inch by excruciating inch. The feel of him inside me is headier than I remember. There's something exquisite about the heavy weight of a body above yours. The way a body like Austin's presses you into the mattress. How all your senses are engulfed because you can't see, hear, or feel anything but him.

There's nothing in my head but the roughness of his hair-covered legs against mine and the smell of his citrus-spiced scent that I suck into my lungs. Beneath my fingers, his shoulder muscles clench as he fights for control to give me everything I need.

He lasts longer than a couple of seconds... much longer. He grits his teeth, mumbles numbers under his breath, and stares off into the distance as he pumps his hips in a steady, perfect rhythm against me. I feel each drag of his plump head along my sensitive tissues as he withdraws and the fierce possession as he drives forward. It's more wonderful, more erotic than I could have imagined, than I can even put words to.

And the way he's trying so hard to keep it together long enough for me to enjoy this part as much as when he was kneeling at my feet, his mouth sucking and licking until I came undone, makes my heart squeeze. In this moment, with every part of his body and mind, he's making the case that he's worth every risk.

His hard planes rub against my tender parts. And it isn't just my body that responds to him. My heart opens.

And I know I shouldn't be feeling these things with him, not for one night. I know I should wrap my emotions up in a tight ball and simply enjoy the physical aspect of it. But between the really amazing sex and the tender, almost loving touch Austin lays against me, I can't seem to keep it in, keep it together.

I let his warmth seep into every pore.

He dips down, his strong arms holding his body at the perfect angle above mine, and takes my mouth. His tongue makes love to me with the same patient pacing as his body. We suck on each other's tongues. I hang on his shoulders, wrapping myself around him, arms and legs, until we are one measured, beating being moving in perfect synchronicity.

Why would I want to keep it together? Why not just let go?

He reaches between us, one hand finding my clit. "Here?" he asks.

"Yes, there," I tell him.

He smiles against my mouth and presses and pinches and pulls the second orgasm out of me.

I'm barely conscious of him tensing and muffling a shout against my shoulder. And when his heavy weight pushes me deeper into the mattress, I only have enough energy to wrap my arms around his torso. I don't even care that I can barely breathe.

He rests in my embrace for the count of ten breaths, maybe more, before heaving himself to the side.

I mewl my disappointment, and it wrenches a weak chuckle from him. "Woman, let me recover."

"I'd slap you if I wasn't so weak."

He wedges a hand underneath me and, in one move, flips me onto my side. "Have I mentioned how small your bed is?"

"You might have complained a time or three."

He grunts and hauls me back against his chest. His knees fit into the back of my knees. One strong arm is under my head and the other is banded around my waist. His thumb idly strokes a path from between my breasts down to my navel. It's simultaneously soothing and arousing. The duality of the touch sums up Austin himself. He's both a guy who has had a countless number of partners in the past but somehow still manages to make the girl he's with feel special.

I don't, in any way, feel like I'm one of the nameless crowds. I should be worried about that, about how I'm already erasing the image Dallas had sketched out and am filling in my own image, but it's too late. It's a done thing. Austin has become my Austin -an unselfish guy who seems to only want to make me happy, both in bed and out of it.

"Take a nap. We have to prepare for round three." His breath ghosts against the back of my neck.

I've told him one night, and it appears he wants to get in as much action as possible.

"No. There's no round three. I'm not an athlete. I'm a delicate flower."

He leans forward and presses his mouth against my neck, right below my earlobe. Shit, that's a sensitive spot. "What did I tell you? I'm going to do all the work."

As I fall asleep in the cocoon of Austin's body, I wonder how I'm ever going to be satisfied with one night.