Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (11 page)

I wonder if she can hear how fast my heart is beating.

She turns back toward the center of the field. “Do I just…do it?”

“Just do it, Delilah.”

“
Fuck
.” She whispers it. It’s hardly a primal scream. She claps her hand over her own mouth. “Oh my goodness. I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Come on. You can do better than that. Let it out. Let it
all
out. This only works if you-“

“FUCK!” she screams. The word falls away from us, jumping over the stadium seats.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck…
it echoes and dissipates at the far end of the field.

“Again,” I say like I’m coaching her.

She balls up her fists and leans forward. “FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” There’s a vein going at her neck. Her face is turning purple.

I put my hand on her back. “Don’t forget to breathe,” I joke.

She relaxes and for once, her muscles aren’t tense as I’m touching her. “That felt really, really good.” She breathes the words towards me, her gorgeous face beaming in the moonlight.

“I told you,” I say. “I told you it would.” I’m thinking right now of other ways I could make her feel good. I bend down and seize the moment. I kiss her.

I’m surprised by Esther grabbing the back of my hair. She returns the kiss. And not just a peck, either. It’s full-on, make out session kissing. I find her lips beneath mine and move my hands down to her hips. I give her soft flesh a squeeze and she pulls away from me. She claps a hand over her mouth again.

“Oh my word,” she whispers. “Oh my word. I am. I am so…I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what just got into-“

But I grab her mid-sentence, lifting her off of her feet. She’s not entirely sure what to do with her body, so she sort of hangs there, against me. I don’t care.

I have her in my arms, and that’s all I’ve fucking wanted this entire time.

“You’re gonna have to pull your skirt up,” I whisper to her. “If you want to hang onto me with your legs.”

She pulls away from my face, her body still hanging in mid-air. “You do it,” she says. I set her down on the ground and get on my knees. I reach under her skirt, sliding my palms up her calves to her knees. Then I slide up to her thighs. Just when I’m about to reach her panty line, she stops me. “Wait.”

“You really want me to stop?” I reply, waiting. Breathing.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

I lean forward to kiss her sweet, pale flesh.

She trembles underneath my lips, breathing heavily. I move the fabric up higher and reach her pale pink cotton panties. They’re covered in rosebuds, which makes me think of the rosebud waiting for me underneath the fabric.

I move slowly up her thighs, and she squeezes my shoulders as I make my way higher and higher and higher. Then I stop. “Grab your skirt,” I instruct.

She takes hold of the bunched up fabric and keeps it around her hips.

I lift her off her feet and her legs wrap around my torso. I walk over to the back wall of the stadium, kissing her mouth as I move. She returns my kisses with gusto, her hot tongue connecting with mine. I press her back against the wall. I can feel the heat coming from between her thighs. It seeps through my shirt and it’s all I can do to not unbuckle my dress pants and ram myself into her tightness.

Actually.

Fuck that.

I reach a hand down and unbuckle them with one hand. They fall to the ground.

Esther doesn’t stop me as I start to pull down my boxers.

I kiss her neck and she groans, pushing herself up against my body. “You sure you want to do this?” I whisper to her. “It’s your first time, right?”

As a way of reply, she grabs my hair and kisses me on the mouth.

That’s all the answer I need.

I push her panties aside and enter her, her hot wetness enveloping me so tightly I think I’m not going to make it more than a few seconds.

We push against each other, Esther’s moans echoing through the empty stadium.

She trembles against me and I know she’s close.

So am I.

We come together under the moonlight, finally collapsing onto the ground next to one another.

“You okay?” I ask her. I’m still panting from the exertion of holding her up.

“Losing my virginity in a football stadium?” she asks, her eyes more relaxed than I’ve ever seen them. “I think I call that a good time.”

I laugh and grab her chin, pulling her mouth into mine once again. Her kisses are hot and sweet.

“You’re good at this,” she whispers.

“Good at what?”

“Kissing. I mean, not that I have a comparison. Not really,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Couldn’t you tell?”

“No,” I reply honestly. “It’s like I told you. I knew that somewhere in there you’re secretly a dirty little party girl.”

She laughs and buries her eyes in her hands. “I can’t believe we just did that.” Esther checks her watch. “We really need to get back to the coffee thing. But we can’t walk in together.”

I lean forward and lick her earlobe. “There’s nothing I can think of in this world sexier than you smelling like sex while we go mingle with the school donors.”

She looks worried. “Will people be able to tell?”

I stand up and pull my pants back on. “That you’re not a virgin? Oh, absolutely.”

“Oh no,” she says.

I laugh. “Delilah. Relax. I’m kidding.”

She stands up and punches me on the arm. “You’re a jerk, Saint Williams.”

I kiss her again. “But I’m a sexy jerk, right?”

She rolls her eyes. “Like you need me to validate your self-worth. If your ego were any bigger, they’d need to build a new stadium to fit it.” She jogs down the steps. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Delilah!” I yell at her.

She stops and turns around to look at me. “Yeah?”

“Next time, you better let me see your tits.”

She blushes and laughs. “Keep it in your pants, Saint.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ESTHER

The rest of the evening is pleasant enough despite my father fuming. He’s letting his anger percolate. That isn’t good. I know he hates to make a scene so he’s saving my punishment for later. What makes the event bearable is Saint and I finding reasons to brush past each other. Touching hands at the punch bowl, him scooting his body close to me as he pretends there’s not a wide enough walkway between all the bodies in the Dean’s sitting room; it’s these little things that keep me going.

Then there’s the way Saint smiles at me from across the room.

The way that I manage to smile back.

The way that he has half a dozen girls milling around him the whole evening.

But he only has eyes for me.

I like that.

I hardly recognize myself, but I’m enjoying it immensely.

The guilt will come later, I just know it. The one time I touched myself
down there
in high school, I’d cried about it for two entire weeks before confessing to my mother.

This time, there won’t be a confessional.

But I know my dad’s rage is coming. My mother, father, and I walk back to their rental car in the parking lot. My dad waits until we’re at the car and saying goodbye to tear into me. “I’ve never in my life been so disappointed in you, Esther.”

My mother hurries to the passenger side of the car and hops in. She hates confrontation. I knew I wouldn’t have an ally in her. I was right. “Alright, Father.”

“Alright?” He slams his hand on the roof of the car and it makes me jump about a foot. “
Alright
? Esther, what has gotten into you?”

I’m withering under his stare. No, not withering. Wilting. I’d been in full bloom all evening until now. One scolding from my father and I feel like I’ve shrunk by inches. “I’m sorry, Father. I just really enjoy helping the team. It’s the one thing I have here that allows me to escape.”

He holds his face close to mine. I can smell the coffee on his breath. It’s foul. I shut my eyes, trying to pretend that Saint is here with me. “Escape? You want to escape? Escape what? The school that I’ve broken my back to pay for? Your cushy dorm room? Your classes that you’ve managed to skip completely?”

Tears sting at my eyes. “Father, I’m-“

“Esther?”

That voice isn’t my father’s.

I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming. This is part of the fantasy I was trying to escape to when I shut my eyes earlier. Because there’s no way that Saint Williams is in this parking lot right now.

I look over my shoulder.

He is. His blue eyes are shining, and his jaw is set. He’s angry. I can see that. He’s protective.

“Hi, Brother Williams,” I reply. I mouth the next words to him.
Help me.

Saint nods imperceptibly. “Mr. Avonlea, the Dean was telling me how nice it was to meet with you earlier today.”

My father stands up straight, stepping back from my face. He puts on his public face mask for Saint. “Well, that’s lovely to hear. Thank you.” He glances at me. “This conversation isn’t over.”

I nod and look down at my hands. Tears fall in a direct path to the concrete, splashing on the dark, textured surface.

My father looks at Saint. “I trust you’ll ensure my daughter makes it safely to her dorm?”

“It would be an honor, sir,” Saint says. He’s not smiling. He actually looks like he’d love nothing more than to punch my father in the face.

I’m not sure I would stop him.

“Goodbye, Esther,” my father says, slamming the door shut.

I step out of the way of the car and onto the grassy median next to Saint. Our hands brush against one another’s as the headlights of my parents’ rental car blind us. They drive away into the night.

I wait until they are long gone before collapsing into Saint’s strong arms, tears flowing freely.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SAINT

“I wanted to fucking
kill
him,” I say to Rick that night, throwing him a football across our dorm room. “The only reason I didn’t lay him out on the sidewalk is because I didn’t want the repercussions to hit Esther later.” I exhale. “You should have seen her face. I should have fucking punched him. I should have.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you are dating Esther Avonlea,” Rick replies, throwing the ball back to me.

I catch the ball. “What’s so unbelievable about that?”

Rick gapes at me. “Wait – so you really
are
dating? I was
kidding
. I thought you two were just fooling around or something.”

I shake my head. “Is that really relevant? And why is it again that you find it so unbelievable?”

Rick steals the football from me and tucks it under his pillow. “Let’s see,” he says, holding up his fingers and ticking off the reasons one by one. It’s not long before he’s run out of fingers. “You’re a foul-mouthed, hypocritical party boy destined for a life of millions of dollars, supermodels, champagne, blow, and hookers. She’s…well. She’s Esther. What else is there to say?”

I wander into our private bathroom to brush my teeth. “We’re not as different as you think.” I pull out my green toothbrush and squeeze a fat line of paste onto the white bristles.

“Whoa. Man. You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Rick whoops and sits up in bed.

I take my toothbrush out of my mouth and give him a death stare. “You spread that to
anybody
, and I mean anybody – that includes Rory – and I kill you. I’m dead serious.”

Rick holds up his hands in surrender. “Cross my heart, hope to die, I’ll carry the secret with me to my grave. And it’s
Romy
, for the millionth time.”

I go back to brushing my teeth.

Rick calls after me into the bathroom. “But it won’t matter if I keep it a secret or not.”

I spit my toothpaste into the sink and rinse my mouth, drying it on my towel. “And why is that?”

“You know how this school works. Everyone knows everything. It’s like…osmosis. Or some sort of scientific thing. That’s why.”

I throw my towel at his face. “The only people who know about this are me, Esther, and you. Esther’s not going to tell anybody, and I won’t either. So if I hear about it from someone else, I’ll know it was you.”

Rick shakes his head. “You’re awfully naïve for having spent the last three and a half years at this place, Saint. Gossip like this spreads like wildfire. You can have my head, but it won’t be me who leaks the secret. Trust me.”

His words echo in my head as I fall asleep that night.

He’s right.

The first person I hear it from? I’m fucking going to punch in the nose.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ESTHER

“You look different,” Romy says when I get back to my dorm room, my face puffy and red. “Other than the tears, I mean.” I already told her about my dad wanting me to quit the football team when I ran into her after dinner.

“Different how?” I try to play it cool and fail miserably. “I don’t know why I’d look different. There’s no reason why I’d look different.” I shrug and unbutton my cardigan.

“Oh. My. God,” Romy whispers in awe. “You had sex.”

My cheeks are instantly turned to a burgundy shade. “No I didn’t. Why - why would you say that?”

Romy shrieks and hops off her bed, bouncing up and down. “You had sex. You did. You’re not a virgin anymore.” She flops onto her mattress dramatically. “Deflowered by the biggest cock on campus. That’s just your luck, isn’t it?”

I scowl at her. “How do you know the size of Saint’s – you know. Thing?”

Romy rolls her eyes. “You’re having sex now, Esther. I think you should be able to say
cock
without getting embarrassed.” She sighs and breaks open a bag of cheese puffs, snacking on them hungrily. “Sophomore year there was a big group text that had a photo of Saint in the locker room. That’s how I know he’s well-hung.”

“That’s an intense violation of privacy!” I exclaim.

Romy snorts from laughing. “Saint’s the one who took the photo. Relax.”

I walk into the bathroom and shut the door most of the way so I can finish getting undressed.