Full Court Press (10 page)

She almost cried when an all-too-familiar wave of lust passed through her again. Oh god, she was in trouble. She couldn’t believe herself. She had just had sex with him and now she was wanting it all over again right after? She didn’t even know him, not really.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at her.

She looked away but then stole another glance. He crossed his arms across his chest. His forearms bulged and she gulped. Her body startled to tingle where he had touched her. She bit her cheek. She should not be feeling this right now. She should be embarrassed and blushing and awkward. She turned away, putting her back to him. If she couldn’t see him then she couldn’t be attracted to him, right?

“You’re shivering. You should get dressed.” His voice was now coming from right behind her.

“Don’t—” It took every amount of willpower she had to take a step away. “Just...don’t.”

She wasn’t sure what it was that she was telling him not to do. She just shook her head roughly, trying, unsuccessfully, to shake away some of her thoughts.

The thoughts she saw right now were of Beck, of her legs wrapped around his hips, of his hands on her breasts, of where their bodies had met. She clenched her eyes shut tightly for a moment and then tried to focus on getting dressed. She pulled her underwear on and dropped the blanket to pull her bra on. She skirted around him and grabbed her shirt from the bed. After pulling it on, she found her jeans crumpled on the floor beside his T-shirt.

She pulled her jeans on and noticed that he had turned around to watch her again. She didn’t look up though, just fumbled with her buttons. Her hands decided that it was time to shake, and she cursed quietly as she failed to do up the numerous buttons. A second pair of hands, a bigger pair, took over, pushing her useless ones out of the way.

He didn’t do up the buttons though, just held onto the front of her jeans with both hands, keeping her close.

“Look at me,” he said authoritatively.

She didn’t want to look at him. She wanted to rip all of her clothes off and have sex with him again. She was afraid that’s exactly what would happen if she looked at him.

“Carmondy,” he said, warningly.

She didn’t look up though. She was determined not to look up.

He had other plans, keeping a hold on the waistband of her jeans with one hand and slipping the other into her jeans, between her legs.

Her head jerked up, looking at him. It didn’t help that she was extra sensitive there right now and he knew it

He smirked, satisfied. “That’s what I thought. Now, we’re okay, right? Whatever this was, it’s fine with you, right?”

She couldn’t hold his gaze. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming. She waited, looking down at where his abs met his jeans. She tried half-heartedly to step back but he tugged lightly on her jeans, curling his fingers under the waistband.

“Hey.” He tugged her close, so that their bodies were as close as his arms between them would allow. He put upwards pressure on her with his other hand, causing her to moan and automatically stand up on her tiptoes in an effort to relieve the feeling.

How was this affecting her so much? He wasn’t even touching her, not really. The fabric of her underwear acted as a barrier. Why didn’t she just pull away? He wasn’t holding onto her that hard, but she didn’t want to pull away. She wanted to push closer.

He didn’t let up on the pressure, adjusting a little to get father between her legs. The tiny amount of friction caused her to suck in a breath, and she grasped his forearm with both hands. He didn’t let go, and she didn’t want him to. She gripped his arm hard and shifted her hips, trying to relieve some of the pressure...or was she trying to cause friction again? She wasn’t sure. She squirmed a little bit more before she gave up and looked into his eyes.

“All I want,” he rubbed the hand against her again and she shivered a little but kept eye contact, “is to hear you say that this was okay...or not okay. Whichever.”

His eyes implored her to say something.

“I don’t...understand what you’re asking.” It was hard to get the words out, because his hand had started massaging gently. She gripped his arm tightly and moaned. She really needed him to stop but at the same time, she wanted to beg him to keep going.

“Just if you are okay with what happened or not.”

“And if not?”

“If I was out of line then say so.”

She shook her head slowly and accidentally dropped her gaze. He reminded her with a bit of well-placed pressure and she looked back right away, trying to push up higher on her tiptoes.

“Was it okay?” he asked again, calmly.

“It was...more than okay.”

He let out a big breath. “Good...that’s good.” He removed his hand and grabbed the bottom button of the jeans. She bit her lip and looked away while his fingers made quick work of the buttons.

When he was finished, she felt oddly incomplete, like something was gone that was supposed to be there. He was a couple feet away now. He had gotten the information that he wanted and now he was done.

She tugged her shirt down. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” he asked lazily.

“Why? Why did that happen? I don’t...I don’t know you, you don’t know me. That was...wrong.”

“You just said it was okay.”

“Not that, I mean just that...we had sex. It was wrong.”

He laughed and stepped back. “Ahh, so that’s how you’re going to play it, huh?” He snatched his shirt off the floor and pulled it on. “Don’t even go there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna go off saying that I seduced you and it was all a mistake and shame on me, blah, blah, blah.”

“Well, you did seduce me.”

He took a step toward her and jabbed a finger at her. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

She clenched her jaw. He was right. She was so confused by her own behavior that she was trying to blame it on someone else.

He continued speaking firmly. “I told you that you should go. You didn’t. You’re the one who lied to Anderson. You’re the one who said we should come into the bedroom. You’re the one who started ripping your clothes off. This is on you just as much as it is on me.”

He was right again. She knew it because she still wanted him. Sure, he might have put a little pressure on her, but she hadn’t once even given a hint that she wanted to stop it. She’d sent the opposite message actually, probably because she didn’t want to stop it. She didn’t regret it, not really, but she felt like she should, and that’s where all of this denial was coming from.

“You’re right...I’m just gonna go.”

Beck nodded. “Anderson is probably wondering where you are.”

She hesitated only a second before leaving the bedroom, grabbing her bag and heading outside. She made it out of the door this time. It was snowing hard, but when she unlocked her Jeep, Beck called her name from the doorway.

“What?” she asked.

“Call me.”

“Huh?”

“When you get to Anderson’s. Call me.”

“Why?”

“So that I know what you made it there and didn’t drive into a snow bank.”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me or I will call Anderson and say, ‘Hey, I just fucked Carmondy, and she was a little shaky. Did she make it back okay?’”

She slammed her door shut and marched back to the doorway. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“Do not tell me what to do,” he warned.

“Beck...” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Please, do not tell anyone?”

She could see that his jaw clenched tightly before he spoke. “I don’t make a habit of kissing and telling, and this is no different.”

She was a little relieved. “I’m just...”

“Ashamed?” he filled in.

“No...I mean, maybe a little disappointed in myself but—”

“For what?”

“For having sex with a stranger!”

“I’m not exactly a stranger,” he pointed out. “And there is nothing wrong with what we did. It was casual, no big deal. And you can’t deny that it was best damn sex that you’ve ever had.”

Carmondy huffed and brushed snowflakes out of her hair. “How the hell would you know that?”

He cocked his head, looking confident. “You’ve never screamed like that during sex before.”

“I ask again, ‘How the hell would you know that’?”

“Two reasons: I saw the surprise on your face while you did it and you’re not denying it now.”

He was right, of course. Sex with her ex-boyfriend didn’t compare. They had always rocked it old-school missionary style and it was good...but nothing like what her and Beck had done.

“Whatever. I’m just...I don’t have casual sex.”

He scoffed. “You do now.”

Why did that sound like he was foreshadowing the future? “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked carefully.

He looked at her hard for a moment before answering. “You should go. Anderson is probably worried.”

She waited but he wasn’t giving any more than that. “Yeah, he probably is...I’m off then.”

“Call me,” Beck reminded her as she got into her car.

She nodded and shut the door, watching as he disappeared inside his little house, closing the door.

The snow was thick as she drove slowly down the dark street until she reached Anderson’s house. She pulled into the driveway and turned off her car before pulling out her phone. She searched her contacts for Beck, Anderson had saved it in there yesterday ‘in case of emergency’. She tapped
Call
and put the phone to her ear.

He answered after the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Keep the wet dreams about me to a minimum. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hung up before she could respond. She huffed and got out of the car, hurrying into the house. She was starving so she made herself a sandwich in Anderson’s kitchen.

As she sat munching on her sandwich, she couldn’t keep thoughts of Beck out of her head. She licked her lips and could taste a hint of lemon left behind from his tongue. His kisses were intoxicating, and she found it hard to believe that he had sex with girls without kissing them. They were missing out. What did it mean that he’d kissed her?

Eventually she gave up trying to get the memory out of her head. She used the excuse that maybe if she just let it take over for a while it would wear itself out and leave her brain. She fell asleep thinking about him. She smiled as she allowed the experience to play over and over in her mind. It was oddly comforting, or maybe she was just totally worn out. Either way, she went to sleep quickly, a smile still on her face.

A
s soon as Carmondy got to school, she ran into Beck. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge her. It was like nothing had ever happened. Even during PE, which put them in direct contact, he treated her the same as always. They played on opposite teams and Beck ended up guarding her now and then but he never did anything out of the ordinary. When PE was over, she tried to follow him out into the hallway but he disappeared quickly into the boys’ locker room.

Her next class was history, but he came in at the last minute again, so she still didn’t have a chance to talk to him.

When the class was over, the lunch bell rang and Car gathered her stuff. She had spent the whole time watching Beck type on his laptop instead of actually paying attention to the lecture. She followed Beck to the door the classroom but stopped when the teacher called her name.

“Ms. Hamilton?”

She turned. “Yes?”

“They would like to see you in the office before you go to lunch.”

She glanced out the door but Beck was long gone. “Uh, yeah, okay. I’ll head there right now then.”

A little confused, she walked down the hall to the office, where the secretary greeted her.

“Hi, um, my teacher told me that they wanted me in the office?”

“Name, please?”

“Carmondy Hamilton.”

“Ah yes. The vice-principal would like to talk to you.” The woman stood up and opened a door for her to enter. “Ms. Hamilton is here, sir.”

“Come in, Ms. Hamilton, come in.” The middle-aged man behind the desk gestured for her to sit down.

Car sat down across from him, waiting.

“I don’t want to keep you from your lunch so I’ll get right to the point.” He pushed a paper across the desk so that she could see. “This was turned in during today’s first period accounting class by Mr. Nicholson.”

It was the homework that she had written out for Beck. Was she in trouble? All she did was write down the numbers. “We know that you wrote this for him.”

“Oh, well in that case, yeah...but he did all the work, I don’t know a thing about accounting, really I—”

“I believe you.” He pushed another couple of papers toward her. “These are Mr. Nicholson’s earlier assignments.”

She frowned and picked one up, peering at it closely. She had already seen Beck’s handwriting but these papers made her heart wrench. She could only imagine how long it took him to do. About half of the worksheet wasn’t even legible. She set it back down on the desk and looked at the vice-principal.

“Okay?”

“I brought you here to ask if you would be interested in performing as Mr. Nicholson’s scribe for the remainder of the quarter.”