First Day (VI)

The dishes are abandoned in the sink. I'll deal with them later.

Right now, all I can focus on is Abbie. Her hand in mine as she leads me up the stairs, the sway of her hips in that white skirt, the knowing look she threw over her shoulder.

We crash through my bedroom door, her body spinning into mine, hands already working at the hem of my t-shirt. She pulls it up, and I wince as my sore muscles stretch.

"Still hurting?" she asks, pausing.

"Doesn't matter." I pull her against me, one hand tangling in her red hair, the other gripping her hip. "Want you more than I care about that."

Her smile turns predatory. "Good answer."

She pushes me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed. I sit heavily, looking up at her standing between my knees.

"Take it off," I tell her, voice already rough with want.

"Which part?" She raises an eyebrow, challenge in her tone.

"All of it."

She pulls the sweater over her head in one fluid motion, revealing inches of pale skin, breasts with brown nipples already hard.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," I say, reaching for her.

She steps closer, between my spread legs, but stays just out of reach. "Patience."

Her hands go to the waistband of her skirt, unzipping it slowly before letting it fall. She stands there in just her underwear.

I pull my own shirt off, tossing it aside, eager to feel her skin against mine. She moves forward then, straddling my lap, her knees on either side of my hips on the bed. Her hands trace the muscles of my chest, down to my stomach.

"Not bad for a hockey player," she murmurs, fingertips trailing over the bruises already forming from practice collisions.

I grip her hips, pulling her closer against me. "Not bad yourself, Jenkins."

She laughs softly, then leans in to kiss me. It starts slow. Her lips moving against mine, testing, teasing. Then her tongue slips into my mouth, and the kiss deepens, turns hungry. My hands slide up her bare back, feeling the soft skin, the subtle power in the muscles beneath.

She grinds down against me, and I groan into her mouth. Even through my jeans, the pressure is almost too much.

"Someone's eager," she whispers against my lips.

"Been thinking about this all day," I admit.

"Really? Even during your hellish practice?" Her hips roll again, deliberate ****.

"Especially then. Only thing that kept me going."

She laughs, the sound low and rich. "Liar."

"Fine. But I'm thinking about it now."

My hands move to her breasts, cupping them, thumbs brushing over her nipples. She arches into the touch, her head falling back slightly. I lean forward, my mouth replacing my hands, tongue circling one nipple before taking it between my lips.

She gasps, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me against her. "More."

I shift us, lifting her and turning to lay her on her back on the bed. She looks up at me, red hair spread across my pillow, eyes dark with desire. I hover over her, supporting my weight on my arms, suddenly aware of how small she is beneath me.

"What do you want?" I ask, needing to hear her say it.

She hooks one leg around my hip, pulling me down against her. "You. Inside me. Now."

I stand long enough to shed my jeans and boxers, watching as she slides her underwear down her legs and kicks them away. Then I'm back on top of her, skin against skin, nothing between us.

"Condom," she reminds me.

I reach for the nightstand, fumbling in the drawer for a moment before finding what I need. Her hand closes over mine.

"Let me."

She takes the condom, tearing the wrapper with her teeth before rolling it onto me with practiced ease. Her touch alone nearly undoes me.

"Ready?" I ask, positioning myself between her legs.

She answers by wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me forward. I push into her slowly, watching her face, the way her lips part and her eyes flutter.

"Oh god," she breathes when I'm fully inside. "Yes."

I start to move, finding a rhythm that makes her gasp. Her nails dig into my shoulders, leaving marks I'll wear proudly tomorrow. I pick up the pace, driven by her response.

"Harder," she demands, her voice breathy but commanding.

I comply, driving into her with more ****, ignoring the protests of my tired muscles.

She pulls me down for a kiss, messy and ****, all tongue and teeth. When she breaks away, her eyes lock with mine, intense and focused even in pleasure.

"Close," she whispers. "So close."

I shift my weight to one arm, the other hand moving between us, finding the spot that makes her whole body tense. Her eyes widen, then close as her back arches off the bed.

"Don't stop," she gasps. "Right there. Don't stop."

I keep the pace, the angle, the pressure exactly as she wants it. Her breathing quickens, her thighs trembling around my waist. Then she's there. Crying out, body clenching around me, nails digging half-moons into my skin.

The sight of her cumming pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her neck, thrust deep one last time, and let go. Pleasure crashing through me in waves, all the tension and pain of the day dissolving in that release.

For a moment, we just breathe, bodies still joined, sweat cooling on our skin. I'm careful not to crush her, though my arms tremble with the effort of holding myself up after the day I've had.

Finally, I roll to the side, pulling her against me. She tucks herself into the curve of my body, her head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine.

"That," she says after a while, "was worth waiting for."

I laugh, the sound rumbling through both of us. "Agreed."

She traces patterns on my chest, fingertips dancing over my skin. "How are the legs now?"

"What legs? I don't think I have legs anymore."

She smiles against my chest. "Poor baby. Coach really did a number on you."

"Worth it though." I run my hand down her spine, feeling her shiver at the touch.

We fall silent, the only sound our breathing and the distant hum of the refrigerator downstairs. My eyelids grow heavy, the day catching up to me again.

"Stay," I murmur into her hair.

"Already planned on it." Her voice is sleepy too.

"Good."

I pull the blanket over us, not bothering with clothes. Her body is warm against mine, her heartbeat a steady rhythm I could fall asleep to a thousand times and never get tired of.