The Beautiful Game

Chapter Thirty Two - Carter

Lou's calm, gentle breathing floated through my bedroom into the bathroom where I'm stood in front of the sink. I'd changed out of my jeans and washed up, because for the second time today, I'd finished in my boxers like a fucking amateur.

I hadn't been able to stop myself.

It didn't matter how hard I'd tried; I couldn't put my mind elsewhere. Thoughts of practice tomorrow, or my recent calc test hadn't even made a scratch in the fog of my brain. All I could think about was her.

She was exquisite. The sounds she made, how soft her skin was, how her thighs clenched against my neck. When she came, impossibly tight and soaked against my finger, I went off like a fucking firework.

That has never happened to me before. I'd been with so many girls I'd lost count. Not a single one had made me finish without even fucking touching me, I hadn't even taken my damn pants off.

Lou had me twisted up so bad from just kissing, that when she'd told me yes earlier and shown me that fucking thong, I'd eaten her like a man possessed, best believe I savoured every drop.

She'd fallen asleep shortly after her orgasm, finally giving in to exhaustion. She'd looked perfectly relaxed as her body stilled and wide eyes fluttered closed; all I could do was stare at her. The healthy flush across her cheeks, the smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose. Her lips plump and bruised from my own mouth, my cock stirred again at the memory of her biting it as she'd glanced down at me between her legs.

I needed more, but I didn't want to freak her out. She'd told me she wouldn't regret it, but there was a sinking feeling in my gut that Lou would wake up any minute and make her exit like Usain Bolt.

The thought of her leaving and ghosting me shouldn't make my skin crawl like it is now, that was my usual trick, right? If it had been anyone else in my bed except Lou, I'd have probably slammed the bathroom door shut to wake them and offer a snack whilst we waited for their Uber I'd just paid for.

Instead, I switch off the light, pull on my clean joggers and sneak towards the bed, edging on to it, desperate not to shift it with my weight. Tense and heart racing, I lie awkwardly as she stirs quietly. She finally pulls the comforter up beneath her chin and settles back in to a deep slumber.

The air trapped in my lungs whooshes out of me as I relax.

I'll deal with whatever the fuck those feelings are later; but for now, I'll sleep.

***

"Hey, Blondie." It's almost ten am. God, she'd been out for the count. There's a goofy smile on my face as I watch her, the purple beneath her eyes fading after the rest.

It went against my instincts to wake her up, she'd clearly been burning the candle at both ends; she slept like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. But I had a class coming up and I didn't want to leave her without an explanation. I nudge her gently, the arguing sleepy grumble she makes is too cute. "Blondie."

"Oh my God!" She jumps into a seated position so fast that the comforter falls to her lap, uncovering her, the red dress is still bunched up, hardly covering her naked breasts. My eyebrows almost meet my hairline as I cough in to my fist and turn towards my dresser. She quickly realises and adjusts her dress.

"Morning." I croak, readjusting my seated position to cover the growing hardness in my Nike shorts.

"What time is it?" She asks, eyes darting around the room to locate her phone. I plop her small clutch bag into her lap and take deep breaths, making sure I'm ready before I stand.

"Nine forty."

"Jesus, why'd you let me sleep that long?" The grumpy set of her jaw makes me laugh; she's combing her fingers through her long tousled hair.