Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the hem of her sweater, lifting slowly as she raised her arms. The sweater slid effortlessly over her head and dropped to the floor. She reached forward and I watched as she seductively unclasped my jeans and then invited me to return the favor. Grasping her jeans and barely there panties together, I shimmied them down her hips until they rested at her feet. She kicked them off while she lifted my shirt as far as she could reach, and then planted a string of kisses along my abdomen, causing me to moan as I yanked the shirt over my head.
Reaching a hand behind her back, she unclasped her bra, exposing her full spectacular breasts. I honestly didn’t remember taking my pants off after that, but somehow they ended up in a pile on the floor. A smile rose from her lips like she knew what I was thinking. Grabbing my hand, she guided me to her bed. That was the last time she led that night.
The moment we hit the mattress, I took control, exploring every inch of her body with my hands and mouth, smiling with satisfaction when she arched her back after I tugged hard on her nipple with my mouth. My free hand moved between her thighs, where she was wet and ready. Her knees fell apart as my finger stroked her light hair before slipping inside the dampness. Her moan smothered into my shoulder as my tongue continued to swirl around her nipple, moving at the same pace as my finger buried deep inside her. Her hips moved against my hand. I knew I had her on the verge of climax, so I gently tugged on her nipple with my mouth to help her get there. She responded by moving her hips faster and burying her hands in my hair, pulling me tightly against her breast. Before she could finish, I left her tantalizing nipple and moved to her mouth. My tongue found hers and she whimpered with need before shuddering in my arms.
She was still shaking when I rolled on a condom before entering her in one swift movement. I slid in easily, rocking against her as she worked to remain quiet so her roommates wouldn’t hear us. I wanted badly to prolong the moment, but all the foreplay wouldn’t allow me to stretch it out. I was ready to explode. After a few thrusts against her, I finished harder than I ever had. I collapsed, taking care not to crush her.
Her eyes slid closed as she collected her breath. “Well, that was something.”
“You can say that again,” I panted, resting my forehead against hers. “I feel like I just ran an hour of stair drills.”
“I’ll take another something, please.” Her words made me laugh and did interesting things to our bodies that were still locked together.
I woke up early the next morning since I had practice. The way Courtney looked wrapped in the sheets, I was tempted to skip it and give us both a pleasant morning instead. Reluctantly I forced myself to leave. If I missed a practice, shit would really hit the fan.
The last thing I needed was to give Dad another reason to ream my ass. I was still feeling the sting from being chewed out over the heart on my face.
“This is your year, Dalton. Everything we worked for is within our grasp. No NBA team is going to take you seriously if you don’t stop dicking around.”
“Don’t you mean everything I worked for?” I rarely spoke up when Dad was giving me shit, but after ten years of hearing it, I was pissed off.
“You don’t think everything I’ve done for you has been work? All the practices, A.A.U. tournaments, staying on top of the coaches, making sure the recruiters knew about you. You think you’d be where you are if it wasn’t for me? I’ll be damned if you’re going to waste the talent we spent all these years building.”
This was the extent of our conversations anymore. He was the reason Courtney and I had stopped being friends when we were twelve. He’d called me a fairy boy, because my best friend was a girl. He pulled me away from her and made sure all my spare time was spent on basketball. I thought once I got into Michigan he’d get off my ass once and for all. I should have known better. Now it was all about the NBA.
That was still my dream regardless of Dad’s bullshit, but at times I hated it all. I could walk away, but what would that solve? That was why I enjoyed the junior summer clinics I had taught for the past few years. It drove him absolutely nuts that I would “waste my time,” as he would say, but it was how I stayed connected with what I truly enjoyed about playing basketball. For the kids I coached, it was still a game. Not the business it had become for me.
With one last longing look at Courtney, who had fallen back to sleep, I crept from the house. The only thing keeping me going was that I’d be seeing her again later that night.
As luck would have it, I didn’t get to see her again that night or the rest of the week. Our crazy schedules made meeting up damned near impossible. Between classes, her job, and basketball practice, I was becoming increasingly annoyed. I was tempted to duck out of practice, but Coach would send out a search party and then have my head. Especially since we had the conference tournament ahead of us. My concentration was a mess. All I wanted to do was be with Courtney. Instead I was at practice going through endless drills I could do in my sleep, and yet I also felt like I was letting the team down. They expected my leadership, and my focus was elsewhere.
Courtney didn’t complain about our lack of time together nearly as much as I did. She reassured me that once the season ended, we’d have plenty of time to connect. In the meantime, we made do with endless text messages. I planned on hanging out at Gruby’s on Thursday night while she worked, but with more practices and team meetings, I just couldn’t find the time.
Friday, I was on a charter bus for the two-hour drive to Indianapolis for the conference tournament. The only solace I found was in Courtney’s text messages.
You’ve only been gone for an hour and I miss you already.
Not half as much as I miss you.
I wouldn’t bet on it.
How was work?
Slow tip day.
That sucks.
That’s all right. We’ll be busy for your game.
U work too hard.
Such is the life of a poor college student.
If I was already playing in the NBA, U wouldn’t have to work another day. The text was intended as a joke, but as soon as I hit SEND, I regretted it. We’d only been together for a week. Knowing how skittish Courtney was, I figured a text like that could send her running for cover. I was in the process of typing that I was joking when she sent a reply.
I’m sure you’ll have a whole harem of women to take care of by then. I better not quit my day job.
Obviously she was kidding, but with all the pressure I’d been feeling, it annoyed me. For whatever reason, she still doubted that I could be exclusive. Our relationship was still new, but I wondered how long I would have to work to earn her trust. To make her realize that what I felt for her was special. Somehow I would have to show her. Mom always said actions spoke a thousand words or some bullshit like that. That definitely applied to me and Courtney. I changed the topic and we continued to text for another half hour until it was time for her to get ready for work.
I didn’t get a chance to text her the next day since practice bled into some media obligations and then pregame preparations. The team hit the court and as I made my way through warm-up drills, I wondered if Courtney would be watching the game at Gruby’s.
“Dalton,” a loud voice boomed behind me. I turned to see Dad standing near the bench. He clapped his hands, urging me to focus.
“Come on, Dalton, this is your night,” Coach Riley yelled from under the basket.