Dirty Saint: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (12 page)

“You’re not a virgin anymore, you should be fine with your beloved roommate seeing your titties,” Romy yells at me. “I think it’s crap that Saint Williams saw your boobs before I did.”

I stick my head out of the door. She’s pouting. “He hasn’t seen my boobs. Don’t be so dramatic.” I crank the shower on full blast and step into it, feeling the tears and grime of the day fall down the drain.

The shower curtain opens and I squeal, throwing my arms over my breasts. “Romy!”

“Darn, missed them again,” she says, shutting the curtain. I hear her slide down the wall, still munching on her snack. “So tell me more details. No boob-showing, which means you were at least partially clothed.” She pauses while I soap up my hair. “And it doesn’t really make sense that you took off your skirt and not your sweater, so I’m guessing you were mostly clothed. Which means he had to push your skirt up. Hm. I’m guessing against-the-wall sex, which is insanely hot.” She chews thoughtfully. I’m not giving her any more ammunition than she already has. “And it must have been when you two disappeared after chapel.”

She sticks her head back in the shower and I yelp again, dropping my bar of soap. “Romy!”

“Did you have sex in the chapel? With God watching and everything?” Her voice has gone up about three octaves, and there’s joy in her face.

“
No
,” I say. “Shut the curtain.”

She does. “Okay. So no chapel sex. And you didn’t come back here to do it, because the room doesn’t smell like sex. Hm. So many places to bang. But he took your virginity, so it had to have been someplace special. You wouldn’t have let him do it otherwise, right?” Romy pauses again, this time for a long time. “Oh! I’ve got it.”

“Alright, final guess,” I call back to her, massaging conditioner into the ends of my hair.

“You fucked in the football stadium,” she says. “Only logical place.”

“Don’t say the f-word,” I intone automatically.

Romy opens the curtain again. “AHA!” So it
was
the stadium. That’s hot. That’s almost like exhibitionism in a way. Well done. I didn’t think you had it in you to be that dirty. Clothed, up-against-the-wall sex, in the football stadium, with our very own nine-inch quarterback.”

“Romy!” I bark, one arm covering my nipples. I point at the bathroom door. “Out! Will you let me shower in peace?”

She rolls her eyes and collects her cheese puff bag. She cleans her fingers of the orange powder residue. “Fine. But take your time in here. I need some alone time with my toys while I pretend Saint Williams is giving it to me.”

“Out!” I yell again.

She shuts the bathroom door behind her, and I feel the warm water running over my most intimate places. It’s almost tempting to follow Romy’s lead.

But I have a jolt of guilt.

I stop myself before my hand finds my sensitive places.

I’ve already broken about thirty-seven holy vows in the last twenty-four hours.

It’s like I’m begging for a lightning bolt to come down from the sky and strike me dead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

SAINT

I thought that once I finally got my fill of Esther I would stop thinking about her. If I could only fulfill my fantasy that I’d been having for weeks, I’d be able to get through the day and actually be able to concentrate on something other than my blue balls.

Yeah.

That didn’t fucking work.

“Saint! What in the darn world has gotten into you today?” Coach blows his whistle three times in a row, a sure sign that he’s pissed.

I pull off my helmet and jog over to him. The weather has finally changed. It seemed to go from summer to winter with hardly any autumn in between. The air is biting at my fingers. I blow on them to try to warm them up.

You know what else would warm me up?

Esther. I flash her a smile. She’s bundled up on the bench next to the water cooler. She ignores me. I kind of like it.

“Sorry, Coach,” I say to him, rubbing my hands together.

He shakes his head. “We’ve got a game
tomorrow
. The biggest game of the season. The game that’s going to make or break our record.”

“Well aware of that, Coach.”

He shakes his head. “Then get your head back in the damn game, Saint.”

Sometimes I wonder how much other college coaches curse. I know he wants to say fuck but he never, ever would. It would get him fired faster than if he banged one of the students.

“Take five minutes. Hydrate. Get whatever the hell it is that’s in your head out of your system, then come back onto the field.” He blows his whistle again. “Alright boys, we’re running that play again without our daydreaming quarterback.”

I wander over to the water cooler. “Hey.”

Esther hands me a paper cup without looking at me. She’s shivering, and her nose is pink on the tip.

“So you’re not talking to me now?” I gulp down the water and refill my cup. She says nothing. I grin at her. “Coach says I’m supposed to get something out of my system. How about a quickie in the locker room?”

That gets her attention. “Excuse me?”

“Come on. I know you must’ve been thinking about the other night. I certainly have.”

I can’t
stop
thinking about Esther. Her body. How slick she was around my cock. How she smelled. How her chest felt against me. How much I wish I could have gotten a naked handful of her perfect tits.

“You have practice, and if Coach sees us talking I’m going to get into trouble,” she says.

I raise my eyebrows. “Meet me behind the stadium. On the parking lot side. After practice.” I crumple up the paper cup and toss it into the garbage bag tied to the cooler. It’s blowing in the wind.

I can tell she’s considering it.

That’s all I want.

The rest of practice I manage to actually focus, now that I know what I’m getting after practice. I’ve never showered so fast in my entire life. I jog across the field and out the far side exit. I know no one will be over here; this parking lot is only filled on game day.

Esther’s not here yet. That’s fine. She’s probably washing bottles. I hop up and down in an attempt to keep myself warm. There’s a thick layer of iron clouds and the wind won’t stop howling. I wait twenty minutes. Then thirty. Then forty.

Finally, I head back to the locker rooms. Coach is ensconced in his office and I can tell by the lack of noise coming out of the locker room that almost all of the guys are done getting ready. It’s Friday night. Most of them are headed off to party.

I open up the storage room door and see Esther standing at the sink. Her shirt is splattered in water.

“Get out,” she says without looking at me.

I laugh. “And miss the wet t-shirt contest? It’s weird seeing you without a sweater.”

“I was hot. It’s a billion degrees in here.” She wipes her forehead on her upper arm and I get a magnificent view of jersey-covered side boob underneath her shirt.

I drop my duffel bag and walk close to her. Her breath catches in her chest but she continues washing the bottle in her hands. “I haven’t talked to you all week. You kept rushing off after practice.”

“You apparently couldn’t take the hint.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Last time I saw you, you were sobbing in my arms.”

“And I very much appreciate you supporting me in that difficult moment.”

I take my hand off her shoulder. “You missed me. Admit it.”

Esther’s cheeks burn and it isn’t from the hot air blasting out of the furnace. “I’ve been busy.”

I lean close to her ear. “You missed me.”

She shuts her eyes and relaxes into me almost at once. The water is still flowing, the bottle is still in her hands, but she’s not washing anymore. I graze my lips against her earlobe and she shivers. She turns her face toward mine, and my lips find hers. I only get in a chaste kiss before she pulls away.

“We really shouldn’t,” she says, putting the bottle on the drying rack and shutting off the tap. She dries her hands and crosses her arms.

I step closer to her and run my palms down her arms. Goosebumps. Instantly. “Coach is busy. All the guys pretty much left already. Come on, Esther.”

She puts her hands on my chest like she’s going to shove me away. But she doesn’t. “We had sex. I can’t take that back.” She takes a deep breath and pulls her hands off me. “I was supposed to wait. I promised God.”

I guffaw. “You think God cares about us having sex? Seriously?”

She furrows her brow. “Are you sure you even
believe
in God?”

“Of course I do. I just have a different image of him in my head than everybody at this school.”

“And what image is that?”

It’s my turn to take a deep breath. “That he’s busy with other things. That he cares more about love and kindness and connection than he does cursing and sex and drinking.” I take another step closer to Esther. She can’t look away from me. “I can’t think of any stronger connection than sex.” I kiss her on the cheek. She’s holding her breath. “Two people entwined together.” I kiss her other cheek. It’s afire with blush. “Hearts beating. Moving together as one unit.” I reach my hands under her shirt and she doesn’t object. I pull it up slowly. Inch by inch. I kiss her neck while I’m doing it. “Feeling each other in the most intimate places.” I’ve got her shirt up over her bra.

Her tits are even more fucking magnificent than I’ve been fantasizing. I pull her shirt over her head. “Hanging onto the edge until you jump together, wet and hard and willing.” I drop her shirt on the floor.

Her eyes are hungry. I know she wants this.

I kneel down on the floor and unbutton her long skirt. The fabric drops with a satisfying noise, the thick khaki crumpling. I kiss her thighs as I pull down the elastic at the top of her underwear. It’s baby pink cotton. I never thought I’d find such demure underwear so fucking sexy.

Esther holds herself against the stainless steel sink, her breathing labored. I look up at her and see that her eyes are shut. I gently lift one leg and hoist it up onto my shoulder. Then I move the other one. My hands find her ass and I’m holding her entire weight.

“We shouldn’t…” Esther says, but trails off.

“This isn’t sex,” I say to her, growing closer and closer to her delicate mound. “This is something else.”

I flick my tongue across her nub and she cries out. “You looking to get caught?”

She bites her lip. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“I think it’s hot as fuck that you’re making noise,” I reply, taking my tongue into her slit. She’s so wet for me. “You like that?” I ask her.

She nods and moans in response. “Please don’t stop.”

I pull back. “Oh,
now
you want me to not stop?”

She glares at me, still hanging on for dear fucking life to that sink. “You’re a jerk.”

I hum against her nub, mumbling my reply. “But you like this jerk.” I take one hand away from her ass and slip a finger inside of her. She trembles. “You like this jerk, the one making you feel ways you’ve never felt before.” I move my finger in and out of her, and she starts to buck against it. Her eyes are closed again, and her tits are bouncing, threatening to spill out of her white cotton bra.

I slip a second finger into her and she whispers my name. “Saint,” she says.

I throw all of my concentration into making her come for me. Hearing her say my name is the sexiest fucking sound in the entire world, and I want my turn soon.

She doesn’t last another minute. She bites her lip to keep from screaming out at me.

I take her legs off of my shoulders and stand back up. “Stand over there,” I command her, pointing at the rolling metal carts with footballs on them.

She walks over and I take off my shirt and pants. I walk up behind her and press my cock against her perfect ass. I lean forward and whisper in her ear. “Do you like that the door is unlocked? That at any moment, someone could come in here and catch us?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“You’re so much dirtier than I ever thought, Delilah.” I sweep her blonde ponytail off the back of her neck and kiss her there. She’s still shaking from her first orgasm. “What do you want?”

“I want you inside of me,” she says.

“Good,” I reply. I unbuckle her bra and let the straps hang on her arms. I finally get a handful of her tits hanging in the air. I massage them and she groans. I push myself against her ass, feeling how soft she is there. I tease her nipples with my fingers and she responds by grinding her ass up against me. “Are you ready, Delilah?”

“Please, yes,” she gasps.

I slip into her and a noise catches in her throat. She recovers quickly and soon I’m slipping in and out of her, her hands hanging onto the football cart and mine hanging on to her perfect tits. “You’re so. Fucking. Wet,” I whisper.

And she is. Inside of her is like pure heaven. I can’t think of anything better right now and I don’t really want to try.

I don’t last more than three minutes, and it’s all I can do not to scream her name when I come. But she isn’t finished, so I turn her around and let my tongue complete the job for a second time.

This time, she pulls on my hair while her body shakes under my mouth.

I nearly come again.

We pull our clothes back on and Esther says nothing to me.

“So,” I say, zipping up my letterman’s jacket. “Same time on Monday?”

She shoves me and smiles against her better judgment. “You’re going to send me straight to hell, Saint Williams.”

I put my fingers under her chin as I kiss her. “As long as I’m there with you, I don’t think that’s half bad.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ESTHER

When I was five years old, I had a bad thought.

I don’t even remember what it was, but I knew it was bad.

I prayed to God to forgive me. I prayed for three hours straight during playtime. I prayed during my snack. I prayed in the bathroom. I prayed while I helped my mom fold towels. I prayed while I set the table for dinner. I prayed
during
dinner.

That day? Was the day I wronged God for the first time. I prayed away my guilt.

I’ve used that trick my entire life. It always works.