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Authors: Haleigh Lovell

The Slam (8 page)

BOOK: The Slam
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There was a long and awkward pause. Abruptly, loud gurgles from her stomach broke the silence.

“Hungry?” I said.

“Ravenous.” Her stomach growled again. “What are you going to cook?”

The metal chair legs scraped against the wood floor as I got to my feet. “Instant Ramen. It’s either that or Mac n Cheese.”

“Ramen noodles, please.”

She sat on the bed watching me as I busied myself by the stove. Over the pot of boiling hot water, I split open four packs of Top Ramen, then used a fork to break the noodles apart.

As I was adding the seasoning, she said softly, “Were you completely naked, too?”

“No,” I said, stirring the noodles. “I happen to wear underwear. Maybe you should try that sometime. Underwear’s pretty awesome.”

She managed a weak smile. “Sorry if it bothers you. I find underwear very uncomfortable and… restrictive.”

“What about clothes?” I asked.

“The same,” she answered. “That’s why I prefer loose fitting shirts. Some fabrics just rub my skin the wrong way. It’s a sensory thing…” Her voice broke off.

Dropping to a crouch, I fed more firewood into the wood-burning stove. “Trust me,” I said. “I’m not bothered at all. You can walk around naked for all I care.”

In four minutes, dinner was ready and we practically inhaled the noodles.

As I began clearing the bowls from the makeshift table, she said, “Are we stuck here?”

“I’m afraid we are.” Turning my back to her, I set the bowls in the sink. “Just for tonight, though. We can make the hike back down in the morning.”

She was silent for several moments. “What about my clothes?” she said in a small voice. “Are they dry yet?”

“No. And they probably won’t be dry ’til tomorrow.” When I spun around, I found her staring at me with those doe eyes. Swallowing hard, I took in the sight of her sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up against her chest, the quilt wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak, wearing that
look
on her face.

You know, that
sexy lip biting, I just had wild sex
look.

God, she was so damn sexy and she didn’t even know it.

Exhaling forcefully, I grabbed a pack of cards off the counter and sat down in front of her. “Let’s play,” I said.

“What do you have in mind?”

I split the deck. “Strip poker.”

It took her a moment before she found her voice. “O-okay.”

Adelaide really hadn’t changed at all. She never said no to me.

Either she still trusted me, or she never backed down from a challenge.

“Standard five-card draw,” I said. “Rules are simple. Each hand, the ante is one article of clothing, which you don’t lose until you lose the hand.”

She lifted her chin. “And what happens when one of us is naked?”

“You have to stay naked for the rest of the night.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

Finally, she reached for the blankets and quilts at the foot of the bed and draped them around her shoulders. As for the last blanket, she wrapped it around her head like a turban. “To even things out,” she said.

“Of course.” Smiling at her turban, I began shuffling the cards and laid them in front of her so she could cut the deck.

“Ante up,” I said.

“Shirt,” she replied.

“Turban,” I said as I dealt out five cards.

Adelaide lost the first round and removed the turban from her head, shaking her long and messy hair free. My cock stirred. She had total sex hair.

Despite her first loss, she won the next round. I stood up and peeled off my shirt.

A smile hovered on her lips. “Your chest,” she said, openly staring at my torso. “You’re plucked, preened and waxed up like a baby seal. Is that what women go for these days?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said, turning the question back to her. “You tell me.”

Her gaze turned thoughtful. “I guess if I had to choose between a woolly mammoth or a baby seal, I’d go with the woolly mammoth. I imagine it would feel like cuddling up to a rug.”

“Oh, really?” I said, shuffling the deck. “Then I need to introduce you to my buddy, Kyle. He has a sweater… there’s no delineation between his chest hair, armpit hair, or back hair.”

“Ew!” Her nose pinched with distaste. “Maybe I’d like a happy medium… just a sprinkling of chest hair on a guy, but not too much.”

I dealt out the cards and Adelaide won that round and every round after that until I was down to my boxer briefs.

As I picked up my cards, I caught her checking out my sizeable bulge. “Like what you see?” I sent her a lazy grin.

Her face was a picture. She had the look of a woman who was trying really hard not to roll her eyes.

With a half-smirk, I began arranging the cards in my hand.

Hell the fuck yeah! Finally my luck had turned.

I had a good hand. Flush—all hearts.

I rubbed my jaw as I contemplated my next move.

When I glanced over at Adelaide, she was frowning deeply as she studied her cards.

Poor girl couldn’t bluff even if she tried. She didn’t have a poker face.

Every emotion she felt—dread, delight, excitement, disappointment—was written all over her face in bright neon paint.

“Well?” she said expectantly.

“I fold,” I said at last. I laid my cards face down and stood up to remove my boxer briefs.

My cock sprang free, a thick rod of hard flesh jutting from a nest of dark hair.

Several moments passed and she continued staring at it with her mouth hung open.

I grinned. “You’re gonna catch flies with your mouth like that.”

Cupping a hand to her mouth, she whimpered in embarrassment, the sound breathy and arousing in a way it shouldn’t have been.

My cock reacted instantly, swelling, becoming harder, longer, thicker.

Another soft whimper fell from her lips and my cock leaped like a poorly trained dog.

“Quit acting like you’ve never seen a dick before.”

“I haven’t,” she said, biting her lips. “Your penis…” Wonder filled her voice. “It’s such a perfect little arrangement of atoms.”

Unwittingly, my gaze went to her mouth. As she blatantly stared at my raging erection, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Fuck. I swallowed back a groan.

My cock stirred at the thought of sliding into that warm, wet mouth of hers.

Then I pictured that tongue swirling around my shaft and blood rushed to my groin.

Damn. I clenched my jaw—hard. But my flagging self-control slipped another notch and she let out a loud gasp as my turgid erection sprang up, tapping my lower abs.

“I’ve never seen a real penis,” she said in a hushed awe. “Especially not one so… sprightly.”

Sprightly? What the fuck does that even mean?

Meanwhile, my erection showed no interest in deflating. “You’ve never seen a real one? So you’ve seen fake ones? Dildos?”

In time, her gaze wandered back up to my face. “I mean, I’ve seen pictures in text books, but never an actual penis.”

“Why not?”

“I-I…” she hesitated. “I’ve never had sexual intercourse. I’ve never even gone out on a date before.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Oh.” Shit. My plan had backfired. I thought if she saw
me
naked, she’d stop feeling so hung up that I’d seen
her
naked.

Little did I expect this! Whatever the fuck
this
was.

“Wait!” she cried, getting to her feet as I reached for my boxer briefs. “A bet’s a bet. I won fair and square.”

“Makes no difference to me.” I shrugged. “I usually sleep in the nude. I just thought I was making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.” Clearing her throat, she added, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to observe it… for erm, scientific reasons.”

“All right.” I shook my head. “I give you an inch and you want the full eight inches.”

“What?” She blinked at me.

“Nothing.” A corner of my mouth lifted in amusement. “What kind of scientific reasons?”

“Sexual desire.” A bright blush stained her cheeks. “What triggers it…?”

I watched her throat work as she swallowed hard.

In the tense silence that followed, I stepped forward, the air between us growing charged. “You wanna know?”

“Yes.” Her voice was high and thin as I closed the distance between us.

Our gazes locked as I slid my hand between her legs and cupped her sex.

Her lips parted and a low moan eased from her throat as I pushed two fingers inside her slick heat, sliding in slow and deep through her wetness.

Fuck. I inhaled with a sharp hiss. She was hot and tight and dripping wet.

Whimpering softly, she curved her pelvis upward, seeking a firmer touch.

I watched her face as my fingers sank inside her drenched folds, pushing deep until the heel of my palm was pressed up against her clit.

“Ender.” She breathed my name as my middle finger hit the G-spot.

Her pelvis rocked hard against my hand as I caressed her from within, pressing against that ultra-sensitive nub and rubbing…

And rubbing…

And rubbing…

And rubbing…

And rubbing…

All the while, I held her stare, watching the sweet, sultry emotions play across her face as I centered all my attention on that one sensitive spot, working the hardened nub harder and harder until she was writhing and whimpering for release.

Then I stopped. “That’s one of the triggers.” The calm in my voice was strained around the edges. “For sexual desire.”

Breathless, she stood there panting, drawing air into her lungs as I stalked over to the bed and began pulling back the covers.

“You coming to bed?”

She said nothing, but after a quiet moment, I felt the mattress dip as she got under the covers.

“Don’t worry,” I spoke into the silence. “I won’t bite.” Almost as an afterthought, I added, “Unless you ask me to.”

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

ADELAIDE

 

 

 

 

 

 

For a long while I lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the wind trying to eliminate this cabin from the surface of the earth.

“Ender?” I said finally.

“Urn humph,” he grunted, the muscles in his abdomen shifting and rippling as he turned on his side to face me.

His eyes were shut and his face was so close to mine that the distance between our lips could be measured in breaths.

“Psst,” I whispered. “You awake?”

“Now I am.” He grunted again. “You just woke me.”

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I can’t sleep.”

Sighing heavily, he reached an arm above his head in a long stretch, drawing my attention to his rock-hard abs and strong, chiseled pecs. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m not sure.” I twisted my head to the side with a painful wince. “But my neck feels like it’s on fire.”

His face clouded with worry. “Turn on your side,” he instructed and I silently obeyed.

“Hold still.” He smoothed my hair away from my neck. “You have a gash.” After a pause, he added, “It’s not bleeding. But it’s covered with dried up blood and some of your hair is stuck to it.”

Biting my lip I studied the wall, keenly aware of how close he was—so close I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he inspected the wound.

“When that avalanche pushed you down the mountain, you must’ve cut yourself on the ice,” he said quietly. “The gash isn’t too deep.”

“It’s not?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll live.” I heard the smile in his voice. “It’s not life-threatening, but we should probably get it cleaned up.” He got up and returned shortly later, the mattress creaking as he sat down.

Holding my breath, I lay still, listening to the sound of a washcloth being wrung.

I slowly exhaled when I felt Ender’s warm touch at the base of my neck as he cleaned the wound, dabbing the raw edges with expert hands.

His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the man himself.

At last, I gathered my courage. “Ender?”

“Yeah?”

“When you digitally penetrated me just now, how did it feel for you?” I paused to gain control of my faltering voice. “Did you… erm… gain any sexual pleasure from it?”

“Digital penetration?” His voice trailed off on a laugh.

“You know what I mean,” I said a tad defensively. “You have elongated metacarpals.”

“Elongated what?”

“When you used your long fingers on me… to stimulate my clitoris and other parts of my vulva.”

“Yeah?” he said coolly. “What about it?”

“Did you gain any sexual pleasure from it?” I repeated.

A moment passed, then another. Finally, he spoke into the silence. “I did.” A pause. “Did you?”

“Yes,” I said softly. “It was… fun.”

He applied slightly more pressure as he cleaned my wound, pressing firmly with the washcloth. “You’re not gonna act weird around me now, are you?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. “Why would I?” After all, Ender was my Social Coach, and this was all part of learning to fit in.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Most girls would…” His hand stilled before he resumed dabbing the washcloth against my skin. “But then again,” he said mostly to himself. “You’re not like most girls.”

Feeling soothed and relaxed, I closed my eyes as Ender continued cleaning my wound.

Moments passed before he spoke again. “So… how come you’ve never dated?”

“I went to an all-girls school and it wasn’t easy to meet boys. And when I did, I had no idea how to act, what to do, what to say.” I sighed deeply. “I never had any boyfriends or girlfriends. I just remember feeling this weight of loneliness. But I
know
I’m not alone in feeling alone. Match dot com, eHarmony, and OkCupid is a big industry with a market cap of eight billion dollars. All that is the cost of loneliness.”

“Yeah,” he said indifferently. “It is big business.”

“And,” I added gloomily. “If it were that easy to date and find a partner, then the only single people around are the ‘voluntarily single’! And there’d be no dating industry!”

He grunted, but said nothing.

“To be honest,” I said woefully. “I think loneliness is just Darwinism in the works. Not able to read mating cues? BAM! The genes leave the pool.”

His reply was a soft chuckle through the silence.

“What?” I said crossly. “I don’t see what’s so funny. The universe wants me to die alone!”

“You’re only nineteen,” he said dryly. “It’s not the end of the world. You’ll meet someone.”

“Where?” I demanded. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he said impatiently.

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll travel to India or Bali to go find myself like that
Eat, Pray, Love
movie, and love will just fall onto my lap.” After a pause, I added, “It’s not easy for us Aspies to find love.”

“Look,” he said matter-of-factly. “Who cares if you’re an Aspie or a musician, a vegan or vegetarian, a republican or democrat? Diabetic? Hey, me too! So you understand what I’m going through.”

“Ender!” I craned my neck. “You have diabetes? I’m sorry, I had no idea!”

“I don’t,” he said in a toneless voice. “It was an example. What I’m trying to say is there’s someone out there for everyone.”

“Hmm.” I mused aloud. “So you think there’s a possibility I might meet someone who sees assets or at least non-issues where others see problems?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “And you won’t meet anyone if you don’t go out on dates.”

I sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid I don’t know how. When it comes to dating, I’m a lost cause sailing off course.”

Silence stretched until he broke it. “I’ll help you find a date when we get back.”

“Really?” I couldn’t hide the surprise from my voice. “You’d do that for me?”

He didn’t answer, but he finished cleaning my wound and reached for the first aid kit on the nightstand. “Don’t move,” he said, picking up a gauze pad and spreading some sort of antibiotic ointment on it. “I’m not done yet.”

I flinched as the cool cream came in contact with my cuts, a burning sensation running down my neck.

“All done.” He turned from me and began packing up the first aid kid.

“Thanks, Ender,” I said, pulling the covers over my shoulders.

“Don’t mention it.” He got back in bed, shifting his weight so he was facing the wall. “Now go to sleep,” he commanded.

I tried, but failed. For a long while, I lay awake, smelling the fire from the wood-burning stove, hearing the crackle and hiss of the logs inside it.

Ender kept tossing and turning under his blankets. He must have been feeling hot because the next thing I knew, he was huffing and puffing and snapping the covers aside.

I wet my throat. His nude body oozed male sensuality. Unwittingly, I found myself taking in his lean and muscular back, his strong and rippling thighs, his smooth and muscular calves, his tight, round butt.

Such a beautiful and athletic physique—smooth, hard, and sculpted… like a Greco-Roman statue.

“Adelaide!”

I nearly jumped. “What?”

“Stop staring at my ass.”

Smiling slightly, I said indignantly, “Then stop pointing your ass directly at my eyeballs!”

 

 

When I woke the next morning, Ender was already dressed. “Your clothes are dry,” he informed me. “And there’s some coffee and Ramen noodles on the stove.”

“Are we leaving soon?” I winced a little as I struggled to sit up.

“Yeah.” He was bent over, tying his boots. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready. I’ve already called Edric. He’s meeting us at the end of the trailhead in about two hours.”

Rubbing my eyes, I yawned and stretched out my arms. Then it quickly dawned on me that I was completely exposed.

Shittlesticks!
I tugged at the quilt, trying to cover myself, when Ender looked up.

“Right,” he said, his eyes lingering far too long on my naked breasts. “I’ll let you get dressed.” Then he turned and stalked toward the door.

“Wait!” I called after him. “Where are you going?”

He paused at the doorway. “Just out back to chop some firewood.”


Ohhh
, that has
got
to be one of the manliest pastimes,” I said dreamily. “You, alone, outdoors, chopping wood and splitting logs with one giant, smooth swing of your axe. If that doesn’t grow the stubborn part of your beard, nothing will!” I laughed gaily. “Not that you’re growing a beard of course. After all, that was just a figure of sp—”

Ender shook his head and closed the door with a sharp bang behind him.

Right
, I chided myself.
Must stop rambling and making a nuisance of myself.

Slowly, I got out of bed and gathered my clothes off the drying rack. As I dragged my shirt over my head, my eyes alighted on the cards spread out on the makeshift table.

Ender’s poker hand was laid face down on the tabletop.

Curiosity got the better of me and I flipped them over.

Flush. All hearts.

I blinked at the cards, confused. I thought I’d won by counting cards.

But I was wrong. He’d let me win.

BOOK: The Slam
11.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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