Page 2 of Playing for Keeps

Light blue eyes rose to find mine, that radiant smile still in place. It faltered, then grew as her eyes traced along my face, sweeping down my body to my outstretched hand. I could feel it like a caress, like it was her hand, not her eyes. Like it was her hot breath licking over me, making me sweat.

“Please,” I muttered, so quiet I wasn’t sure she could hear. Then I prayed she couldn’t, my desperation to touch the girl making my knees weak, my anxiety building every second she didn’t speak.

For a moment, I thought it was over. Thought I’d be forced to go to the bar and find my sister, to lick my wounds in private as I sucked down a bottle of whiskey to drown my sorrows and put them to bed.

The girl turned away from me, glancing at the man at her table. My mind told me to run, to get out before it was too late. But my stubborn feet wouldn’t move.

Instead of rising to his feet, cracking his knuckles and getting ready to fight, the man tipped his bottle in the girl’s direction and gave her a nod.

My heart stopped.

My lungs struggled to take in a much-needed breath.

And that smile kicked the air right out of my chest as the girl swung back to face me.

Her hand was smooth, cool and silky, as she slid her fingers against my own. She rose, damn near pulling me with her as she did, her body too close.

I swayed, her scent affecting me, her body’s pull drawing me in.

Then she squeezed my hand, dipped her head, and that smile turned bashful.

“After you.”

Step after step, my feet found their way to the tiniest empty space on the dance floor. My hand clutched hers, and I worried she’d slip from my grip, worried my damp palms would scare her away. But when I got to the empty spot and turned back to face her, she spared not a second before wrapping her arms around my neck.

My dick kicked in my pants as she pressed her body to mine. I wanted to die as it rose, prodding against my jeans as if begging to be let out. Sure I’d scare her off, I tried to pull back. But the girl, she crushed her chest to mine, her breasts pillowing against me as she put her mouth near my ear.

“I’m Jen,” she told me, quiet over the loud music pumping through the speakers near the stage. Her lips touched my skin, a gentle tattoo against my flesh, and everything inside of me melted on the spot.

“Vinny,” I muttered, damn near stuttering my name, as she turned her head so I could speak in her ear.

That grip of hers tightened. Her face swung back to mine, that radiant smile back on her lips. It wasn’t perfect, as I’d thought earlier. Her bottom front teeth slightly overlapped. And I loved it.

Loved that tiny imperfection.

Loved the way it gave character to her face.

Loved the way it enhanced her smile, a smile that felt like it was just for me.

We danced against each other, my leg between her thighs, the hard press of her body riding against my throbbing length. Her touch was magic, her body a spell, her skin lighting up under the strobes flashing above us. Her hands smoothed over me, and mine over her, each pass pulling us closer, each stroke turning us on.

Under the pulsing beat of the music, I swore I heard her moan, and my hands gripped at her harder, only for hers to tighten and close. With her breasts pressed to my chest, her body riding my thigh, that moan from her throat was too much to bear.

“Jen,” I gasped, pulling away. Certain if I didn’t, I’d come in my pants. “I need to take a break.”

Her mouth was cracked open, her bright eyes turning dark. Her pink tongue whipped out and traced across her lips. And God, I wanted to chase it. Wanted to suck it into my mouth and tug at that bottom lip. I wanted her, more than I’d wanted anyone in my entire life. But if I didn’t get away from her, I’d mess it all up for good.

“Okay,” she told me, her voice but a whisper, the look on her face full of a disappointment I was only too familiar with.

It hurt, like a stabbing in my chest. My old friend, failure, barging in to ruin the day.

“Wait for me?” I begged, because why not make it worse? Why not show her how desperate I was?

She nodded, smiling, though the look was tempered, probably by regret. I squeezed her hand, started to walk away, and took hope in the fact that she held on until she couldn’t any longer.

Rushing to the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall. Pulled down my pants and grabbed hold of my cock. I squeezed it, shivering as the pressure that was so close to popping built even more. It didn’t take long, with my eyes closed, pictures of Jen’s smile in my head, thoughts of her body riding me instead of my dick in my hand. It didn’t take long. The pressure boiled to a head, my balls drawing up as an electric shock zipped up my spine.

I didn’t watch it, as I sprayed hot cum all over the wall. I didn’t watch anything but the movie of Jen, naked and writhing beneath my touch, playing behind my eyelids. But I felt it. Felt every last spurt, felt each electric blast. Felt my relief swallow me up, leaving me shaky at best.