Page 49 of Your Kiss Is On My List

“You feel so delicious, baby, so perfect, so dreamy. Did I ever tell you I… thought of you when I … touched myself? Made myself come?” I sink inside her again and again listening to her overwhelming words as they vibrate through me, as her truth shocks my system into another place, one I’ve never been before.

“Touch yourself now baby,” I breath the words and she does, reaching a hand between us.

My arms shake as I hold her, enveloped by her, sliding fast, burying myself to the hilt, over and over, faster and faster as she holds on and I feel her rub her clit. our breathing turns ragged until I stop breathing altogether and the world disintegrates into nothing but atomic sensation and I gush into her, calling her name, kissing her face. She arches back and calls out my name in answer as I feel her clenching around me, squeezing more from me as I pulse out the most explosive orgasm of my life.

I can’t hold her anymore and we collapse to the floor of the shower in each other’s arms. My cock slides from her and that’s when I first see the blood. The condom is splotchy with blood and it trickles down her thighs. Dizziness threatens for a millisecond, but I grip her arms and pull her to her feet with me.

“Baby doll. We have to clean you up. Are you—”

“I’m so fracking good, Trey.” Her smile is tender as she takes my face in her hands and kisses me. I turn on the shower, but she doesn’t stop kissing my lips and my whole face until I take the soap and press her gently back from me. She legs me clean her up, jumps when I run the soap over a tender spot and I slow, careful with her, needing to make her right, to make the experience perfect.

When I’m finished, I turn off the water and lift her out of the shower, knowing her legs are still shaky.

“This isn’t exactly the way I wanted your first experience to be,” I say.

“It’s exactly the way I wanted it,” she says. “Because it was with you.”

It’s late by the time we’re in bed under the covers, but I’ve never slept so soundly.

Too soundly.

We don’t wake the next morning until there’s a knock on the door. At nearly five a.m.

Without coffee, barely dressed, we pack in a hurry to leave but we have to dig the car out of its space. Dani and her dad help, but even with all three of us it takes a half hour. We’re behind schedule by an hour by the time we’re ready rive back to campus and I’m sure to be late for meeting. I slam my fist on the steering wheel. This is why I need to focus on hockey, why can’t let my relationship with Dani get in the way.

“Fuck,” I say as I pull the car from the parking spot and head down the still snowy street. “This is why my focus should stay on hockey.” I don’t believe I just said that out loud. I know better than to vent my frustrations at Dani.

“I’m going to be late for class and an assignment,” she says, “but you don’t see me freaking out and blaming you. We’ll be fine. We’ll forget it ever happened. Let’s break up again,” she says joking as if it’s nothing, as if the best night of my life didn’t just happen.

“Don’t fucking joke about this, Dani. We’re not going back to…” I wave a hand, not sure of whatever we were, starting to worry about where we are now. I’m not sure of much, of what I’m doing, but I’m sure as hell about not losing Dani from my life. Not now, not again.

“I’m not joking—not completely.” I wince at her words. They stab at my gut, making me nauseous. She grabs my arm. “I’m not going to be responsible for blowing up your hockey dreams,” she says. “You want the NHL so much and I want it for you.”

“I’ll make it to the NHL.”I grit out the words, staving off my panic, trying not to over react, to keep my cool. “My coach isn’t going to do anything rash because I’m an hour late.” As I say the words, my gut clenches because I know it’s wishful thinking. I’m the fucking team leader and I’m letting everyone down. The only impact that can have is a negative one. Fuck.

I send coach a text to let him know I got caught in the snow storm overnight and I’ll be late, but I don’t hear back.

“What about you? Is Dooley going to mark you down for missing a deadline because of a snow storm?”

“I don’t know.” There’s a glisten of fear in her eyes, but they soften as she stares at me and it’s hard to keep my eyes on the road, to concentrate on anything but her. Her scent, her energy, her essence fills the car and it fills me.

“Don’t worry. Dooley’s a reasonable guy and you’re the best in his class.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“I try. I’ll try harder starting the minute I get back. I’ll make up for this … mistake.” I flinch at her word. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean that you’re a mistake—”

“It’s okay. It was a mistake to stay up late making love when we knew we had to get up early. Now we’re both in trouble and …” And what? I know I can never go back to being just friends or forget about how she feels under me, how her skin feels, the look on her face when she’s in the throes of ecstasy.

“No. Don’t say that. We just got carried away. We need to keep our relationship under control is all.” Her eyes implore me with confidence and desperation and passion, that same all-in, balls-to-the-walls approach she takes with everything in life. I chortle at that because it’s the exact reason that keeping our relationship under control is so impossible. She’s so innocent and has no idea how impossible it will be for either of us. Fuck, I want to pull over to the side of the road and jump her bones right now and say to hell with hockey.

“I know what you think, how hard it will be, how… passion can make a person forget. Passion fueled mistakes are the cause of so many historic mistakes after all. Look at Antony and Cleopatra.” She smiles and pats my thigh, singes my skin through my jeans.

“And you think we’re above all that?”

“Yes, I do.” She nods with one hundred percent confidence but I wonder how deep it goes.