Chapter 6

Thought I was doing fine bout to get you off my mind
I see you face and then I'm wrapped around your pretty little finger again

I see no good reason still I'm tangled in your charms
My God you're smiling you catch my eyes
My heart is pounding deep inside

(Lyrics from ‘Wrapped’ Kelly Willis)

It had been a charged and nervous silence that had filled his big black SUV as the man she didn’t know, but felt dangerously attracted to, drove her to his home where he was now busy pulling ice packs from his freezer as if he’d been expecting trouble. 

“Boy Scout?” she asked as he carefully draped a tea towel over her forearm before arranging the ice packs from her wrist to her elbow. He met her gaze quizzically. “Always prepared?” she added, trying to picture the slightly scruffy unkempt man in front of her in a boy scout’s uniform. The vision made her smile. 

“Uh, no. I guess you could say I’m just accident prone,” he muttered, his gaze slipping from hers’ as if he wasn’t quite telling the truth. Chelsea decided to leave that alone, for now, as she bit down on her bottom lip. She’d almost retorted that she remembered him being very coordinated but she didn’t want to bring that up now and not just because her wrist was throbbing. The fact that he hadn’t tried to jump her the minute they were behind closed doors had earned him brownie points and besides that, if she had sex with him again that would make what they’d done more than a one night stand and then she’d have to tell Jimmy and that was a conversation she wasn’t sure she was ready to have. “Can I…do you want something to drink?” he asked as if he’d just realized that he had a guest in the house, or maybe it was because of the charged silence that had suddenly filled the room. She watched him pull open the fridge door to reveal mostly empty shelves, apart from some a few cans of beer, a six pack of Red Bull and some pre-packaged lime Jello. 

“Some ice water would be great,” she replied, unable to hide her grin. It was comforting to see that he was a typical guy right down to having to fish a clean glass out of the dishwasher and then try to decide whether to pour water from the Brita in the fridge or from the tap. 

“I’m not sure when I last changed this,” he explained sheepishly as he eyed the Brita jug suspiciously and then turned to the tap. She watched as the threadbare t-shirt he was wearing strain as his biceps flexed and her head swam as her gaze focused on his fingers as he slid the glass in front of her. He had thick fingers. Her body remembered them and the walls of her pussy clenched as if she could feel them working inside of her. Chelsea stared at the ice in the glass and thought about being cold as she tried to lower the sudden spike in body temperature she was experiencing. 

“So, is this place yours?” she asked, looking around, looking at anything but him as gulped the cool water. The house was modern and, for the most part clean, but unadorned, almost as if he’d just moved in. All of the furniture had a new, unused feel to it. Nothing said well loved, well used. 

“Yeah, but I’m not here much,” he replied as if he could read her mind. Chelsea put the ice packs aside and covered them with the towel and then rested her arm on top of them. “Okay I just gotta ask, did that guy…did he do that to you?” Chelsea spun in her chair, knocking the ice packs to the floor and gaped at him. 

“I fell off my horse,” she snarled and it wasn’t Jimmy she was defending. “If any man so much as raised a hand to me…it would be the last time he’d do it,” she added turning back and reaching down for one of the ice packs. He’d beaten her to it and as their fingers brushed, she was sure she got a shock that made her entire arm tingle. 

“I just hate guys that pick on someone…,” he began hesitantly, his hand still partially covering hers as he slowly, tentatively looked up into her eyes, “smaller than them.” If he’d said weaker she would have argued. The way his mouth turned up at the corners told her he had been about to and thought better of it. It made her like him even more. It also made her want to touch his face and made her wonder if the at least three days growth on his cheeks would burn her cheeks if she kissed him and that made her contemplate the feeling of all that stubble brushing against even more tender areas and those thoughts made her blush. She immediately tried to turn her face away but his reflexes were quick and he caught her cheek in his hand and then his mouth came crashing down over hers’. 

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He hadn’t meant to kiss her. That had not been part of the plan. If there had been a plan it was to give her space, to be the good guy, to make her feel safe. But the minute he’d seen the heat of desire flood her gaze Mike had forgotten about being good or caring about her space. All he’d been able to think about was her lips, her mouth and her tongue. 

She didn’t hesitate either. Her lips moved beneath his and her tongue was the first to flick out, sliding hesitantly over his bottom lip while her hands moved more decisively into his hair, grabbing handfuls and pulling his mouth harder onto hers’. 

This position was no good for his knee. It complained, shooting a sharp stabbing pain up into his thigh as he knelt at her feet, holding onto her knees, not sure if he should venture farther, waiting for her signal. He could put up with the pain, he decided, if she’d let him into the skin tight jeans that had been teasing him since he’d seen her at the hospital. 

“Does that hurt your wrist?” he asked as she dug her fingers into his shoulder. 

“I’ll live,” she replied hoarsely, her gaze focused on his mouth before she kissed him again, a searing, mind blowing, tongue twisting kiss that brought him to full attention, made his balls ache and erased all his hopes for trying to be a gentleman. He felt her fingers dig into his t-shirt and realized she was trying to literally tear it off of his body. He admired her hootzpah but doubted her strength. 

“Let me,” he reached down to pull his own t-shirt off but her hands wouldn’t budge. His shirt was bunched in her hands and she was sliding close to the edge of the chair, her legs wrapping around his back. They were going to do it on his kitchen floor. Not that there was anything wrong with that Mike thought as she literally wrapped herself around him, he hadn’t eaten there in he couldn’t remember how long and it was kind of hot that she wanted him as much as he wanted her but as he slid backwards and down, she put out a hand to steady their descent and let out a squeak as her hand pushed against the cupboard door at his back. “That hurt,” he said aloud and unnecessarily as she yanked her arm back and clutched it to her chest. “I have a thing…a wrap…upstairs,” he gestured, glancing down apologetically at his now very hard and almost painful erection as he scrambled to his feet and headed out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He heard her mutter under her breath, but she followed him up the stairs and into the bathroom where he dug out his first aid kit and pulled out an elastic bandage that he was happy to find still had those little metal clips attached to it. He was always losing those. “Arm,” he said, holding his hand out for hers’. She looked down at his hands and then up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Boy Scout.” The way her mouth turned up at the corner as she looked up at him made him want to pick her up, put her on the sink and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe. He shook that thought off, took her hand in his and began to roll the wrap behind her thumb. Her hand looked so small in his, so fragile. He felt clumsy and protective all at the same time. 

“Too tight?” he asked as he positioned the clips in place. She flexed her fingers and he had to bite back a groan. She shook her head, carefully, gingerly rotating her arm while still leaving it in his hands. They both were left staring at her arm, unable or unwilling to face the reality that the heated moment had passed and now they were both left waiting for the other one to make a move. 

Mike ran his thumb over the back of her knuckles. He didn’t want to hurt her, not even by accident, but he did want to touch her and keep touching her. Most of all he didn’t want to let go. 

He was concentrating so hard on how small and fragile each one of her fingers was that he didn’t realize that her body had swayed closer to his until he felt the fingers on her other hand sliding up beneath his shirt along his waist and around his back. He looked down and her leaf green eyes were looking up into his. It was the only invitation he needed. Mike captured her mouth with his and kissed her gently. He couldn’t remember when or if it had ever happened before but this chaste kiss and the gentle press of her body into his side had sent a rush of blood south and he could feel her smile as she pressed her thigh against his eager hard on. 

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Her hand slid down the back of his sweat pants and grabbed a handful off butt cheek as she pulled his body against hers’ to let him know that she was as happy about being near him as he obviously was about being near her. He was so cute. The honest to goodness look of concern on his face had made her want him even more than she had when he’d reminded her how soft his lips were and how wide his shoulders. 

“Not…not here,” he muttered, reaching back to grab her good hand and dragging her behind him down the hall and kicking open a door to a room that looked like it belonged in a college dorm. He muttered some kind of apology that sounded like ‘sorry for the mess’ but for the same reason that she found his it oddly comforting that he wasn’t smooth or self confident, she liked seeing the overflowing laundry hamper and the white tube socks peeking out of a drawer. It made her feel like it was okay to be less than perfect, made her wrapped arm seem to fit in somehow. 

She watched him grab a handful of folded t-shirts and toss them onto the floor followed by several pairs of jeans and hid a giggle behind her hand. She couldn’t imagine Jimmy ever treating his clothes that way but oddly it helped her to relax when he turned back towards her wearing an apologetic and anxious expression, as if there was a chance she’d run away screaming. She reached back to untie her halter top and found that the way he’d wrapped her arm made it awkward but just that small gesture was enough to wipe the almost stricken look from his face and then the full solid mass of him was behind her, working on the knot and then she felt both of his hands come around to cup her breasts. 

He bears the weight of them in his hands like they’re something precious, ancient and breakable. She feels his breath on her cheek as he peeks around to look down at them; such a boy. Wanting to reward him somehow, she snakes her bad arm up and over his shoulder and he doesn’t need more than the smallest hint and her lips turned up towards his to kiss her. It’s awkward, maybe not the best angle or the best kiss but it’s tender and warm and supplies a belly deep satisfaction before his thumbs roll over her nipples, flicking them, bringing them immediately to life. 

He was hard against the small of her back but he even though she could picture it, him bending her over the bed and having her right here, right now, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulders and dug his teeth into the curve of her neck, making her moan out loud. Reaching back with her good hand, Chelsea slid her hand up the length of him and then gave the head a gentle squeeze. He moaned from somewhere deep in his chest, a raw rumbling sound that soaked her panties. His hands moved down to her jeans, his fingers making short work of the brass button and fly but then he was stuck. 

“How do you even get these things on?” he asked, grabbing a hold of the only pieces of fabric not still almost attached to her skin and uselessly tugging. 

“With some difficulty,” she admitted with a grin, detaching herself from him and sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her and she couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t used to being in charge and she liked that he let her. 

He tugged each of her dust encrusted boots off and tossed them over his shoulders. She heard them hit the floor somewhere behind him and the memory of them placed so carefully on that square of newspaper came unbidden into her consciousness. Jimmy would never treat snakeskin boots that carelessly and for once, she didn’t care. 

Not that she had time to. One minute she was looking down at his hunched form in front of her and the next thing she was on her back, her legs in the air and Mike was tugging at the ankles of her jeans. 

“That’s not going to work,” she cried out, shoving the snug denim down over her hips and wiggling like a trout in the bottom of a boat. 

“I have scissors,” he said seriously, looking around the disaster of his room.

“No!” she cried, pushing the tough fabric down and kicking it off at the same time. “These jeans cost me more than two hundred dollars. You are not cutting them up.” 

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, grabbing what she’d managed to get over her feet and giving an unholy tug that nearly pulled her off of the bed altogether. She let out a squeal of surprise and reached back to grab the edge of the mattress, digging her nails in while he tugged one more time, freeing her from her skinny jeans and leaving her lying in front of him in nothing a white cotton g-string and a smile.

He stared down at her, wearing that same expression on his face that she remembered from D.C., like he’d never seen a naked woman before, like maybe he was gonna cum in his pants. It almost made her laugh except that he was so damn cute when he did it. 

“Oh god…please say I have condoms,” he muttered suddenly, reaching over to wrench the drawer entirely free from the nightstand and dumping its entire contents on the side of the bed. Chelsea clapped her hands over her mouth but could barely muffle the giggle that erupted as she watched him dig through well thumbed copies of Penthouse and the Hockey News, even tossing aside a pair of frilly purple lace panties until he came up with two small foil squares and turned to her wearing a triumphant and very boyish grin. 

“Lucky me,” she laughed as he swept the rest of the debris onto the floor, kicked aside the drawer and dove onto the bed. 

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He loved to make her laugh. He wasn’t the prankster on the team, though he was often found in the middle of more elaborate jokes, but he loved to see her smile and her laugh was like church bells Sunday morning, a church he would definitely drag his sorry ass out of bed to attend if it meant that he could have this in his bed every night he thought as knelt over her and dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She pressed her hands against his stomach and stopped him from pulling his own pants down. Instead he damn near came just watching her roll the thick grey cotton down over his hips and then, oh so carefully, pulling it out and over his rock hard erection. 

When his cock bounced in front of her and she licked her lips he groaned. If she even breathed on him he was going to blow his load. He bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to taste the coppery tang of his own blood, as she curled her fingers around his base and opened her sweet mouth and began to guide him along her tongue and deep into the wet, warm heaven of her mouth. 

He wanted to tell her to stop. A thousand curse words seemed to slip from his lips as she wrapped her tongue around his head and licked the pre-cum as if his cock was made of rich chocolate gelato that she wanted to take her time and savor. His blood pounded in his ears as he gripped the headboard and willed himself to remain still while her lips and tongue explored every inch of him. He wanted to grab her fiery red hair and dig his fingers into it and force her mouth all the way over him. He wanted to fuck her pretty mouth. If it had been any woman but this in his bed, he would have done it to. But with her he was overcome by the need to be gentle, to be patient and so he nearly broke the headboard into splinters when she rolled those emerald green eyes up at him and slid her hand down and cupped his balls while she sucked hard on his knob. 

“Sssstop,” he hissed, feeling his balls pulling up tight. Somehow she smiled around his cock and shook her head. If her sweet mouth hadn’t been full, he was almost sure she said no. As it was it came out ‘pnffff’ and then her mouth slid, very slowly, down his full length until he could feel the back of her throat tightening around his head. “Daaammmmn!” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight and pounding his fist against the wall. He fought not to cum and she fought right back, digging her fingernails into his balls and urging him, very gently to slide down into her throat until silvery tears dangled from the edges of her eyes.

Mike was breathing hard in the way he’d been taught to do when he’d been crunched into the boards and couldn’t breathe. This was just like that, right down to seeing stars. He clenched his teeth. He tried counting back from one hundred. He even tried to think about that awkward drunken threesome he’d had with Ovie one night in Buffalo, but none of it stopped him from emptying his sac into her throat as his head tipped back and a war cry erupted from his throat. 

By the time he’d regained his senses she was lying there, propped up by the pillows, licking her fingers like she didn’t want to miss a drop. He wasn’t sure, but Mike didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sexier in his life. 

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” he offered, reaching for her, pulling her into him, sliding his hand down to the small of her back and wrapping a leg over both of hers in case she got any ideas about leaving. She smiled and licked her lips like she was looking for one last drop. 

“Are you kidding? I’ve always wanted to do that,” she purred and lifted her mouth up as an offering to him. He took it, ignoring his own salty aftertaste on her tongue. Most women he had been with would take a pearl necklace rather than swallow. He’d even heard of girls spitting it out afterwards. He had never, in all of the puck bunnies that had been in this bed, had a girl licking her lips like he tasted like strawberries and clotted crème. 

“Then he’s even a bigger fucking douchebag than I thought,” he whispered against the curve of her neck. It was a good damn thing she couldn’t see his face. He hated thinking about that scarecrow cowboy touching her, claiming her the way he wanted to. His cock began to twitch at the thought of it, and he rolled her beneath him, pinning her smaller, slighter body with his. She looked up at him with those big, green eyes and a smile that was pure trust. His heart stopped beating, just for a minute. He hadn’t earned that look, but he wanted to. “What’s your name?” he asked as his body hovered over hers’.

“Chelsea.” Mike tasted the name on his tongue. It was better than CeeCee but he could see where that came from now, though he decided that he still didn’t like it, would never use it.  

“Hand me one of those, Chelsea,” he eyed the condoms sitting on the edge of the bed and wondered if there was anyone he could call to bring him more. He didn’t plan on her leaving. Not for a long while. 

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She’d been a little drunk, a little more bold the last time he had moved above her like this. She’d convinced herself that it had been the tequila and her playing a part that had made her think he did things to her that made her feel like she was floating. But as he bent his head to suckle at her breast and slid between her thighs, he fit into her like a key into a lock and every nerve ending in her body seemed to light up all at once until she felt like a ball of energy, a pulsating glow as if she was being heated from within.

It wasn’t like this with Jimmy. Not that it wasn’t good with him, but this was just…different. With Jimmy she’d never felt free. He had so many rules, most of which had to do with him being in control. Plus with Jimmy it almost always felt like he was doing her the favor. With Mike it was the other way around. With Mike she didn’t feel like her breasts were too small or skin too pale and as he reached between them and slid his fingers along her clit she didn’t worry, even for a single second that it wasn’t at all ladylike to curse like a real cowboy.

“That’s it babe,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear, “cum for me. I want to feel you squeezing my dick.” Her body shuddered as he stroked her clit and drove deep into her at the same time. Jimmy didn’t talk like that. He was so intense, like he wanted to do it just right, as if there was some perfect way of doing it, some ascribed period of time it was supposed to take which also meant that if she didn’t have an orgasm and he did that it was just too bad, maybe next time, but it was once he was done it was over. “God you feel good,” he whispered, his voice croaking as if he was on the edge and was holding out for her and she was close. He probably said that to all the girls and he had to have girls. He couldn’t have got to be this good and not have had a line-up of co-eds in this bed, despite his little boy sad clown face. 

Then she wasn’t as close and didn’t want to be in this bed anymore. She felt his lips on her cheek and turned her head. Her body went still and she shut her eyes tight as she felt tears of mortification stinging in her eyes. 

“Chels?” He hovered above her and then she felt his hands cup her face. “What just happened?” His fingers dug into her face, not enough to hurt but enough that she knew he was trying to get her attention. “Where are you?” She shook her head but he waited, patiently, and she could feel him staring at her. Opening her eyes she found his dark eyes looking down into hers.

“I don’t want to be barefoot and pregnant.”