Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“That was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I do mean my entire life,” I assured him. I spread my hand over his hip and caressed his ass. “I could do this all night, every night.”
He pushed his leg in between mine and smiled. “Me too. Can I ask you something?”
“The answer is yes.”
“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”
I gave him a weak, lopsided smile and shrugged. “Yeah, I do. I did it once before when I was a senior in high school.”
“Were you drunk or something?”
“No. It happened naturally over a few months. But the sex—that was a one-time thing. Most of what we did was tame…kissing and grinding. I never saw his dick. He never saw mine. Except maybe in the locker room,” I conceded before continuing. “Every time we got together, it was almost like we were surprised by what we were doing. I didn’t mean to kiss him but somehow, we’d make out for half an hour in his car in the dark. We’d break apart and look at each other like ‘What the fuck?’ The next day we wouldn’t talk at school or make eye contact on the field, but then we’d do it all over again.”
“So he was on your team?”
“Yeah. Graham was our kicker. He transferred in his junior year. He was new in town, new on the team. He was kind of intense, especially about football. I guess I liked that about him. But we weren’t friends. We were just horny teenagers trying something new. I didn’t know what I was doing and neither did he. We did what felt good. And the one time we actually fucked…it felt really good.”
“If you liked it, why didn’t you do it again?”
“Because afterward…it was a mess. A total fucking awful mess. The last thing I wanted was to do any part of it over again. Ever. And then you came along.” I smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Reminding me how good this is.”
“It’s very very good.” He crawled closer still and nudged my shoulder, then laid his head on my chest and wrapped himself around me. “You can stay the night if you want.”
“Yeah. I want.”
He kissed my cheek and then closed his eyes. I listened to his breathing as I held him. I waited for regret, anxiety, or even claustrophobia to knock me off cloud nine and kill the joy and sense of rightness I felt. But this moment with Mitch was stronger than the past. I felt invincible and in sync with my place in the world in a way I never had before. Something told me he was the key.
6
That night changed everything between us. We liked each other. A lot. In a relatively short amount of time, we’d become real friends and now lovers. And in spite of being faux boyfriends for his project, we were a separate entity in private. No one knew about us. Honestly, I kind of liked the element of intrigue. If Derek asked what I was up to, I said I was working on a “project”. But truthfully, the project was just an excuse to be with Mitch.
I knew he was being graded on our content, but he didn’t talk about it. It would have felt strange to feel as though any part of our conversations were rated or analyzed. Mitch was mine. I didn’t want to know if anyone believed we were real. He was real to me. Moreover, he was important to me.
I liked the lilting cadence of his voice, his mischievous smile, and his uncanny attention to detail. He could be serious or silly depending on the situation, but he was always upbeat and fun to be with. And the sex was, quite honestly, the best I’d ever had. Tender kisses quickly escalated to fiery and passionate ones. We pulled at clothing and fumbled with belts and zippers with our mouths fused in an effort to get naked and horizontal as fast as possible.
Mitch was lithe and sure. He moved like a dancer and had the confidence of a gymnast walking a tightrope. But he was sensitive to my inexperience. Or maybe he was gun-shy. Sometimes, I got the impression his breakup with Rory made him cautious. My status as a bi, not quite out of the closet athlete didn’t work in my favor. I wanted to change that, though. I wanted him to be as crazy about me as I was for him. And I wanted to spend all my free time with him.
Since he was equally busy, we met after school or practice. If I got out early enough, I’d swing by whatever game he was cheering. But most of the time we did mundane things like meet for coffee or study or cruise the aisles of the local Whole Foods together. We’d walk side by side with our shoulders brushing while we discussed anything from our favorite kinds of cheeses and breakfast cereals to delicacies we wanted to try from other countries.