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I’m hyped up on adrenaline from the game and the rush of winning. Relieved everything between us has stabilized after a stretch of uncertainty. And then part of is it just…Lennon.
I still get this giddiness around her that’s hard to explain. It feels like an addiction. No matter how much I’m around her, I always want more time.
That feeling is called love, I guess.
It’s hard to define something so intangible, that emerges in so many forms. That changes and grows. That doesn’t duplicate and is always different.
Lennon melts against me as I fist the front of her underwear and tug, giving her the friction she wants but not actually touching her.
Our kisses become messy. Wild, instead of practiced. Focused on being as close to each other as possible, not careful tongue strokes.
When Lennon suddenly breaks away, I’m not expecting it. Breathing heavily, I study her, resting one palm on the wall just above her head. Her underwear is soaked through and she was just grinding against my hand.
I wasn’t expecting this to be the moment she decided to pull back.
Her lips quirk upward as she registers my confusion. “I’m not a big baseball fan.”
“I know,” I reply. “You’ve mentioned it, a few times.”
Lennon’s smile grows. The sight of it tugs at my chest. Chips away at the fear coming to Clarkson was a choice she might regret. “And I wish it didn’t take up so much of your time,” she continues.
Both of my eyebrows rise. I have no idea where she’s going with this. “Okay…”
She pushes my chest. Not that hard, but I’m not expecting it. I stumble back a step. If I didn’t have decent reflexes, I’d probably be flat on my ass right now.
Lennon follows, closing the distance between us again farther from the wall. Her hands are tugging at the top of my shorts, and I think—hope—that I figured out what she’s doing. My dick jumps as she pulls the material down, basically begging for her attention.
“But you looked damn good pitching.”
Suddenly, she’s on her knees in front of me, and I can’t hear anything over the roar of blood in my ears.
Lennon’s hand circles my erection, rubbing the sensitive skin. I’m honestly worried I’ll come from the pressure alone before her mouth even touches my cock.
I can see straight down her shirt from this angle. The sight becomes even more erotic when her tongue peeks out, tracing the tip in slow licks meant to drive me wild.
My hips jerk forward, a groaned “fuck” spilling out when the wet heat of her mouth sucks me. The pleasure is indescribable. Overwhelming. So acute it’s almost painful.
I know I won’t last long, and I’m right.
Lennon ignores my warning, not slipping away until my dick is soft and my head hazy. Pleasure swims through me in lazy trickles.
I move to kiss her, but Lennon pushes me back again. This time, she doesn’t step toward me after.
“Do you have any idea how long this took me?” she asks, gesturing toward her appearance. “I already have to redo my lipstick.”
I grin, unrepentant, as she grabs a tube off her dresser, fixing my shorts. “Fine. I won’t fuck you until later.”
The party tonight is at my house, a celebration of our impressive start to the season. It means I won’t have to walk or drive anywhere after it ends, and hopefully Lennon will decide to stay over.
“You’re sure I look okay?” she asks, swiping a shimmery gloss across her lips that makes me want to kiss her all over again. “This is what other girls wear?”
“You don’t need to dress like other girls, Len. Just wear what you want to wear.”
“I know.” She fiddles with the lip gloss before tossing it back on top of her dresser. “I just want to…fit in, I guess.”
I walk over and kiss the side of her head. “You look like other girls. Just hotter.”
Lennon is extraordinary. Unique. She has a different perspective on the world than most people our age. While most other college students are focused on grades and who they want to hook up with over the weekend, Lennon has been balancing school and a job. Not to mention the responsibility of running a stable and taking care of her grandfather.
