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“Onesock?” she demanded, pointing at the article of clothing which had clearly offended her. “One. One sock.”
“So?” I asked, fully knowing where she was going with her complaint, but wanting to draw it out of her the way she’d drawn out removing her jewelry.
“So,” she said slowly, “that is half of an article of clothing, sir. You owe me the other sock.”
“If jewelry counts as items of clothing, each sock counts,” I countered, pointing at the pile in question.
“I counted both my earrings as one,” she argued, laughing despite the intensity of her words. “Pairs of items count as one. Give. Me. That. Sock.”
She’s adorable like this,I thought, a realization that shocked me. A day ago, this girl had been my nemesis in trying to make it through the holiday. And now, here I was, growing fond of her and, God help me, wanting to be much closer to her than I currently was, but deliberately putting it off for the sake of building the tension even more, looking forward to the moment when it would break.
“Alright,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender. “You win. Here is the sock you require.” I pulled it off and laid it beside the other one, with Jenna watching every movement I made as though I could somehow cheat my way out of taking off a sock.
I started to shuffle the cards again, and I realized it had been a solid fifteen minutes since we’d had any kind of conversation outside of the game.
“So,” I said, dealing out another hand, “I know your wildest hookup story, which, I have to admit is a doozy.” She blushed, but looked pleased with herself, and I felt my cock twitch at the confidence she showed. “Tell me. What’s yourfirsthookup story? How did the girl willing to go down on her professor lose her virginity? Because I bet that’s a great story.”
Jenna laughed. “You would think that,” she said. “But I hate to tell you, it’s a really dull story.” She glanced at her cards. “Three, please.”
“Tell me anyway,” I said, giving her the requested cards and taking two for myself. “I bet mine is even less exciting.”
“Alright,” she said. “Let’s compare, then. I’ll tell you mine, you tell me yours, and we see whose is the most boring.”
“Deal,” I said, laying out my hand at the same time she did hers to find that, once again, I’d won.
“Dammit,” she said, removing her own socks–both of them–and laying them next to the rest of the things we’d taken off. “Okay. So to set the scene for you, it was eight years ago. I was a junior in high school, and I was dating a member of the football team. We’d already done a little bit of fooling around—I’d gone down on him and he’d fingered me a couple times—but we’d never actually gotten undressed.”
“How it usually goes, I suppose,” I said. “That’s kind of the natural progression for a lot of people, right?”
“As far as I know.” She took the cards and shuffled them, dealing out another hand. “Well, this guy, Paul, was one of the starters for the homecoming game, and I’d told him that, if he won, we could go all the way. Looking back, I’m pretty sure he jizzed in his pants just thinking about it, but I have no way of proving it.” She laughed, then motioned to my hand. “How many?”
“Just one,” I said, and she bit her lip, taking four for herself. “So, what happened next?”
“Well, the day of the game came, and they lost—badly. He was in such a foul mood after that, that I literally didn’t even want to be around him that day, let alone let him inside of me.” She laid down her cards. “Two pair?”
“Full house,” I said, showing her my own.
“Fuck,” she said with a giggle before removing her sweater, once again pulling her t-shirt up with it to give me the briefest glimpse of her bra, though, this time, I didn’t try to hide my staring. “Excuse you,” she scolded me. “You can wait for that until you earn it by beating me again.”
“Deal,” I said.
“I thought it was your turn,” she teased.
“Not what I meant, but yes, it is.” I took the cards and shuffled them, dealing out another hand. “So, he turned into a sullen teenage boy, as teenage boys often do, something I can speak to having oncebeena sullen teenage boy.”
“You?” Jenna said in mock incredulity. “Sullen? Mister ‘this cabin is too small’ can besullen?”
“I know,” I said, shaking my head like I couldn’t believe it either. “It’s a shocker, but it’s true.”
She gave another of those laughs that sounded like bells tinkling, and I had to fight against getting hard again. This girl was beautiful, smart, and funny, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t given her the chance to show it to me when we first met.
Because she’s Dean’s sister, that voice in my head said again.And she’s younger than you. Alotyounger than you.
Somehow, however, those things seemed unimportant as the firelight glistened on her skin and hair, and, losing another hand, I finally removed my shirt.
“Well,” she said, starting her story again, “Paul got all sullen, and, by the time the dance rolled around that night, I hadn’t even heard from him. I wasn’t sure if he was going to show up or not. Half an hour of the damn thing went by, and I was still waiting, so I went outside to call him, and there he was.”
“He showed up?” I asked.
