Page 6 of Jocked Up

With a groan of pleasure, Drake remembered her tongue sliding up his neck as he drowned in her wet depths. His chin lifted as though she were there now, her hot tongue sliding slickly up his sweat dampened skin as he plunged into her over and over again.

He leaned back, remembering filling his hands with her ripe breasts, breasts that now appeared larger than they had even been then. He remembered the way her dark brownish-red nipples had felt in his mouth, the way she’d ground harder into him as he’d sucked at her flesh, the way her center had rippled around him suddenly as she cried out.

He hadn’t known what was happening then but he knew now that Bethany had been coming, her muscles fluttering around him as he plunged into her. He’d just known it felt good. He responded to the memory, his breath hitching as he felt his own orgasm starting, his flesh seeming to get harder before a pulsing release jetted from him, his hand working lightly as he remembered Bethany’s eyes most of all, and just how beautiful she was, spread beneath him.

Drake stood for a long moment after he finished, leaning against the wall, still lost in his memories. He should have never let Bethany go, that was the stupidest thing he’d ever done. But young, dumb, and full of the proverbial come he’d let her fall by the wayside, blinded by the thoughts of fame and all the money being offered to him.

Now he knew the late nights partying, the meaningless one-night stands, and the fame couldn’t compare to having someone looking at him like Bethany had looked at him when she’d exploded in his arms. Somehow he had to get that back in his life and only she would do. He’d made a mistake long ago, now he had to find a way to make it right.

Chapter Four

I drove home, my anger rising as the miles passed. Drake was going to be involved with my son and when his team called him back and he had to leave, my little boy would be hurt. The whole team would be hurt. I didn’t care if those jeans he was wearing were a sin, or that they made me think of other sins, I wasn’t having it.

I set Peter up with the model car we’d gone to the store to get glue for and went to the other end of the dining room to call Amelia. We exchanged a few pleasantries before I finally dived into the reason for my call.

“Drake can’t coach the team Peter’s on, Amelia, I’m not having it.” I paused, waiting for my friend’s response.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Bethany? I know Drake was a jerk when we were kids and you took his actions on your date as insulting but come on. Give the guy a break! He’s grown up now, so he has a different sense of what women expect than what we’re used to, that’s not enough reason to hate him like you do. It’s not like he’s going to hurt Peter!”

“No, not physically, but when he goes back to his team, when he walks away and leaves again for six years, what then?” I demanded to know, trying to remember that Amelia didn’t know I’d slept with Drake a long time ago, didn’t know he’d just left my bed and never bothered to even send me an email or text message.

I had a far deeper reason to dislike Drake but I wasn’t telling Amelia about that. I couldn’t take the humiliation. Back then it had been embarrassing, I’d had a crush on the boy that was all but my step-brother, and then I’d slept with him. And then he’d left me. He’d probably laughed with his friends about how desperate I’d been. Shaking my head, I finally listened to Amelia’s words.

“He’s going to be here until at least the fall, and the boys will all be told he’s only there temporarily. This is an opportunity for them. You’re going to deny them that over a petty dislike?”

“Petty?” I gasped, realizing finally how I must sound to my friend. Yeah, I guess I did sound pretty petty. She didn’t know the whole story, though. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am. Grow up a little, Bethany, realize that Drake was a kid back then; all that teasing was just him being the typical teenage asshole. And now, he lives in a different world from us, or he has. Give him a break!” Amelia sounded really peeved and I had to admit what she said was right.

Teenaged boys weren’t the most reliable people, were they? Of course, teenaged girls weren’t either, even if we told ourselves we were more mature, our hormones were raging too. He hadn’t seduced me that night, we’d agreed mutually to have sex, I’d just been the one with emotions tied to it, and he hadn’t been, at all. Yeah, maybe it was time to let some of it go.

I got off the phone with Amelia and called my dad. He’d tell me straight, either way, about how to handle this. He’d always been there for me and he would be now. Packing up the car and my son, along with his model car, I drove us out to my dad’s house, an hour away in the western part of the state. Arriving there almost felt like coming home.

Geremy Amberson’s house wasn’t really a house though, it was a houseboat, and looked like it sounded, a square house on pontoons. A Louisiana tradition, the houseboats were often used as camps for hunting and fishing. Dad lived in his, always able to fish or hunt from his back door. With a walkway on all four sides, the house had breathtaking views and I loved sitting out there and watching the water slowly flow through the bayou.

Peter ran straight to the room Dad had prepared for him, determined to get his car together, even if it was starting to look more like a mess of 5-year-old exuberance than a car. I smiled and watched him go. Dad offered me a beer and we sat on chairs in the back section of the houseboat, watching the sunset.

“Well baby girl, tell me what’s brought you out to your old dad then.” I laughed and smiled over at him. Now in his sixties, my father was the male version of me that Peter was going to be when he grew up. His hair had turned white and cut a path further up his forehead, his face was lined, and he couldn’t always hear very well but this was my father. It felt good to be near him.

“Drake’s back in town again. He’s going to be coaching Peter’s team for a while. I think he’s wanting to mend some fences with me. I’m just not sure about that.” I took a deep breath, still skirting the truth, even with my dad.

“Ah, Drake’s come back to town finally?” I looked over at Dad, surprised to see a pleased smile on his face. “That ought to be interesting then.”

“I suppose.” I didn’t try to hide my doubt.

“Oh, it will be. It’s brought you here already, hasn’t it?” Dad looked pleased with his little joke and laughed.

“It has indeed.” I thought about a question that had plagued me but Dad would never really answer. “Why did you and his mom split up Dad? You both seemed so happy together.”

Dad’s face changed, sadness taking the place of his laughter. He looked away, staring out at the reds, purples, and pinks of the setting sun.

“Things were going on, bigger things happening than us and it was for the best. It’s done now, let’s go have a look at that car my grandson is building!” Dad got up suddenly, his normal reaction to that question. I’d stopped asking ages ago but hoped I’d get a better answer now.

“So your advice is to go with it, basically?” I prompted.

“Sure, honey, you have to do what you think is best. That’s all I can tell you. If you want to talk to him go for it, if not, take Peter off of the team and avoid the man. It’s that simple.” I looked at my dad, a bit annoyed. That wasn’t very good advice.

“Let’s go look at Peter’s car then.” Unsatisfied, I drank my beer and went in to find Peter happily gluing toothpicks and dried beans he’d found in a jar to his car. Oh yeah, my baby was creative.