back anymore, and my body is thrown into white-hot pleasure.
I call out his name as my clit throbs against his fingers, soaking up every last swipe until I can’t take it anymore, and I shut my legs tightly, my body humming and quaking from how hard I just came.
“Oh God,” I say, my voice shaking as I turn my body and curl into him.
He kisses the top of my head and holds me close to him. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“Perfect,” I answer, in disbelief at how good he can make me feel in the matter of seconds.
This isn’t just a passionate romp with a guy I like, this is something deeper. Our connection dives way past the surface and is going past layers to the very core of our souls.
It’s early in our relationship, but it feels like I’ve known him forever.
It feels like Carson could possibly be my forever.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous, which is so weird because my entire life has been surrounded by guys. Brothers, friends, my dad . . . so hanging out with a bunch of baseball players should be a breeze, but for some reason, as I walk toward the baseball loft door, I feel like throwing up.
I worked with Carson in the cages early this morning, and he asked if I wanted to come over to his place after practice for dinner. The guys were grilling burgers and apparently Jason Orson made his famous potato salad, and it’s something I can’t possibly miss out on.
It was cute, he was nervous asking me, as if I was going to turn him down.
I could never turn down that smile.
I finished my last final today. Yeah, school is over. School has been my life for so many years, that it feels surreal, weird, to know that I’m done. Now it’s time to move forward with my life, my time to find my niche in the world. I’m lucky, because I don’t feel pressure from my parents, but I’m excited to start work. When I get a job . . . I have another week in the dorms though thankfully, so it doesn’t feel completely real yet. And now I’m heading to my boyfriend’s place. Another thing that is surreal. I spent a good amount of time trying to figure out what to wear. I even FaceTimed with Cory and asked him for advice. He made me take him through my closet and show him what I have, which then made him text Cheryl to get me more date clothes. I begged him not to spend more money on me but as he put it, what’s done is done.
We wound up picking out a pair of denim shorts he got me a while ago that I’ve never worn because they seemed a little short, but he told me they were fine. I paired the shorts with a Bobbies tank top because Brentwood is the Bobcats as well, so it works out, and I wanted to still feel comfortable. I French-braided my hair, put on some mascara, topped the outfit off with my glasses and a pair of sandals, and called it a day. It’s nothing special, and I’m sure any other girl would be decked out when going to hang out at the baseball loft, but that’s not me and it’s not the girl Carson fell for, so I kept it simple.
Taking a deep breath, I walk up to the big medal sliding door of the loft and knock. From the other side, I can hear a bunch of male voices shout, “She’s here, she’s here. Carson, your girl is here.”
Oh Jesus, they sound way too excited, which makes me even more nervous.
I twist my hands together, trying not to puke, but the minute the door opens and Carson’s there on the other side in a Brentwood baseball shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, my nerves fall to the wayside and my heart pounds rapidly from the sight of him.
Wet hair and a lazy smile; it’s everything I could ask for.
“Hey Coach,” he says, his voice deep and sexy. Taking me by the hand, he pulls me into the loft, shuts the door, and lifts my chin where he plants a wet and long kiss on my lips. My hand instinctively goes to the back of his neck for support just as the guys behind him hoot and holler.
Carson peels his lips away and presses his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry