Will briefly locks eyes with mine, shaking his head. “No. Not at all, just sore. He places my plate in front of me first, the tips of his fingers grazing my shoulder as he pulls his hand back. Paul’s stoic face studies Will and then me. No wonder Will says his dad can make him feel like he’s under a microscope sometimes. Jesus. It feels like Paul can see inside my mind right now. I feel a sudden compulsion to confess every secret I have.
Will and other guy, must be a freshman because I’ve never met him before, make their way around the table, setting down plates of food and topping of drinks before heading into the back again.
Miranda finishes her food quickly, leaving early, citing an early tee time as her excuse. Other than Miranda acting strange, the rest of the night is uneventful. I did see a woman drop her fork on the floor, slip off her shoes, and then pick the fork up with her toes all before using it again like nothing happened.
By the end of dinner, both sets of parents have written checks donating money in the name of funding underprivileged kids hockey dreams.
Chapter Eighteen
Will
Kennedy’s already changed out of her dress and is sitting crosslegged on her bed with her hair piled high on top of her head, wearing just my shirt and panties. I lay beside her, head resting on my hand, propped up above my elbow. “I like your hair like this.” I twine a finger around a lock of fallen hair near her ear.
“Stop changing the subject.” She looks down at me, looking ethereal, the light behind her creating a halo behind her head.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll tell them about refusing to sign the draft after I get accepted somewhere for grad school. Until then, it’s not worth bringing up,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.
She looks at me like I’m full of shit–which I am. We both know that I’ve already made up my mind. No matter what, I know I won’t be playing in the league next year. I don’t want to talk about that though, I want to pretend that I don’t have to have a conversation with my dad that will result in me crushing his heart. I don’t want to think about my mom’s inevitable tears. I want to think about Kennedy and how she people watched theevent just for me, and maybe think about what that means. “Now tell me again, and describe her in extreme detail, about who picked up the fork with her raw toes.”
She tosses her head back and laughs, making my chest feel warm and tight at the same time, before recounting her story. I grab one of her hands in mine, playing gently with her fingers, lightly kneading the pads of her fingertips and twisting the ring on her pointer finger. Like always, her hands are ice, and I can’t stop the image of her cold little fingers running over my knee and up my thigh until they’re wrapped around my cock.
I release her palm, allowing me to grip her waist, and maneuver her astride me. “Much better.” God, she is so fucking hot. “Now keep going. What else did you see?”
I run palms up her toned legs, stopping just below the place where my oversized shirt hits the tops of her thighs. Her face lights up, hands shooting to her mouth with a gasp. “Oh my god! I cannot believe I forgot about this. I saw a nip slip!”
I slide my hand further toward her apex until my thumb is just barely resting over her panty covered slit. Her breath hitches. “That’s juicier than the fork toes, Kenny. Why didn’t you lead with that?” I tease her as I tease her pussy. I brush my thumb back and forth over the very top of her slit, where I know her clit is hiding. “Let me guess, it was the woman with the insane fake boobs?” I ask her like I’m not rock hard under her, like I’m not teasing her clit over her panties. I shift, hooking my pointer finger under the edge of her panties, raising my eyebrows in a silent question. She nods her head yes before continuing.
“Yeah,” she shifts slightly, canting her hips forward, giving me better access. “It was her.” I hum out an acknowledgment, unable to focus on anything other than where my thumb moves over her. I push her panties to the side beforesettling my thumb right over her clit again, pressing and circling with featherlight pressure.
I part her lips with my thumb, coating my digit in her wetness before going back to her clit, rubbing her. “Where’s your phone?” she sighs.
“In the bathroom.” This conversation has my cock in a pavlovian choke hold. The second she asks me where my phone is, all the blood in my body rushes straight to my groin. “You watched me put it in there earlier, remember?”
She nods her head yes, “Mmmhm.”
I don’t mind assuring her–it's a heady strange delight earning her trust. She’s already gotten so much less anxious with me in a matter of weeks. So much so that she’s grinding against my thumb and over my hard cock trapped between our bodies under my shorts. With my other hand, I reach up and pluck at her adorned and sensitive nipples poking through my shirt she wears, smiling up at her when she closes her eyes and drops her head back.
I did not expect to like her nipple piercings as much as I do. I love that I’m the only one who has seen them. I love that her dusky pink nipples are framed with pink little gems on either side. I love how sensitive they make her.
“Does that feel good?” I ask her as she continues to move against my thumb. She moans in response to my question, then places both hands on my chest, rolling her hips. I’m so fucking hard, I’m leaking precum, I might actually come from dry humping, something I haven’t done since my freshmen year of high school.
“Let me touch you,” she whispers. With urgency, I push my shorts and boxers down far enough to free my aching cock. She grips my base with her ice cold hands and light pink fingernails and I almost shoot my load from that alone. I’m frozen in time, breath held in my lungs as she angles my cocktoward her bare pussy, where I’m still holding her panties to the side. She wiggles forward, until her slit parts on either side of my shaft and her clit is rubbing against the underside of my cock.
I let out a groan, my eyes practically rolling into the back of my head as she slides up and down my shaft, coating me in her wetness, but not taking me inside. “Do you have a condom?”
Holy fucking shit. “Yes,” I pant, clenching my eyes shut, doing everything in my power to keep myself from coming before I’m even inside her. “It's in my bag.”
She runs the blunt ends of her nails along the collar of my shirt, one finger just barely dipping underneath the hem resting along my neck, then trailing down my chest as she continues to rub herself against me. “Go get it.”
I can’t stop the small groan that slips out at her words. She rolls off me, letting me off the bed to locate it with speed that surprises even me. I strip myself bare with efficiency, foil packet in one hand while she’s undressing herself on the bed, tossing my shirt she was wearing and her panties over the edge and onto the floor somewhere. I climb onto the bed, mattress dipping beneath my knees, my cock jutting out and away from my body, as if it too is straining to get closer to her. My cock aches, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. She nods her chin toward where my fist is wrapped around the condom wrapper, and holds out her hand causing her tits to jiggle, the round gems of her nipple piercings reflecting the light.
“You want to put the condom on me?”
She flashes me a bashful smile, “is that okay?”
“You have no idea how okay with me that is.” I toss her the foil packet and brace myself above her on my knees, my blood roaring in my ears. She rips the corner with her teeth before wrapping her hand around my base, stroking me once before gripping me again, holding my cock steady with one handas she rolls the condom down my length with the other, teasing my shaft with the gentle touches of her fingers.
I’m way too fucking stimulated right now at the mere thought of sinking my cock into her. I need to cool off. Gripping the base of my cock hard, stopping my impending orgasm, I bend forward, licking a stripe up her slit.
