Indiscretion: A Standalone Forbidden Romance Page 8

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam says when she turns around and sees the dampness coating my jeans.

  “Not your fault,” I tell her. “It’s that damn boat’s.”

  Glancing behind us, I see a small brick building near the parking lot that we passed coming in. It probably has bathrooms and changing areas. “Let’s head up that way,” I suggest. “Maybe they have some hand dryers we can use to warm up.”

  Folding up the now wet blankets, I carry them, and Sam throws her damp, sandy tote bag over her shoulder to make the short trek up the hill.

  Thankfully, we do find bathrooms, the women’s around to the left side and the men’s to the right of the building.

  “So, I guess I’ll meet you out here in a few?” Sam asks me.

  “Or,” I say as I grab her arm, “we could keep each other company and…warm while our clothes get dry.”

  “Oh, um, okay,” she agrees with what sounds like hesitation. This is the reason why I refuse to take her virginity so soon. She’s not ready if she gets nervous about the thought of being alone in a bathroom with me. In fact, she hasn’t even seen my dick but once yet and never actually touched it. Maybe it’s time to remedy that, if she’s ready.

  Inside the men’s room, I don’t delay unbuttoning my jeans or shoving them down my legs since there’s no one else around the park today. I watch Sam’s reaction as I toe off my shoes and take my pants all the way off. Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops in shock, but she doesn’t shy away from looking at the front of my boxer briefs that are plastered to my crotch thanks to the dampness. Since the cold isn’t doing my cock any good, I reach inside and stroke some blood flow back into my length before I push my boxers down.

  “Oh, my God,” Sam mutters softly.

  “Come here,” I tell her, beckoning her with a crook of my finger.

  “Um, okay,” she agrees, swallowing deeply before she starts toward me.

  When Sam’s close enough for me to reach her, I grab her hand and place it over my hardening dick, making her gasp.

  “Before I use it to take your virginity, I think you two should get well acquainted,” I tell her. “Go ahead and give it a firm handshake,” I urge, wrapping her fingers around my girth and squeezing. “Fuck,” I groan, my hips thrusting forward and eyes closing from the wonderful sensation.

  “Was that…was that too hard?” Sam asks me softly.

  “Hard is good,” I tell her. “Now keep squeezing it like that but start stroking up and down.”

  “Like this?” she asks, her eyes lowered to where her hand is pumping my shaft.

  “Yesss,” I groan, leaning my back against the brick wall when my knees go weak. I can’t remember the last time I had sex; and while I’ve jerked off nightly since meeting Sam, it was nothing compared to how good it feels to have her hand on me. Hands plural would be even better.

  Grabbing her free hand, I place it on my sac. “These are my balls. They like attention too, but you have to be very gentle with them,” I explain. “Cup them. Roll them around. Just…be easy.”

  My head falls back against the wall as Sam starts fondling me, so tentative at first and then gradually becoming more sure of herself. In fact, thinking about how my dick is the first one she’s seen or touched nearly has me coming, right before her hands fall away.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask when she abruptly stops. I watch her face to try and figure out the problem so I can fix it, and fast. Sam’s eyes are lowered as if she’s embarrassed. Was it too much too soon? Maybe I rushed her...

  “I want to use my mouth,” Sam declares, shocking the shit out of me when her eyes raise and lock determinedly with mine, causing a bead of pre-cum to drip from the head of my cock.

  “Okay,” I easily agree with that suggestion; the sooner, the better.

  “But I’m afraid I’ll do it wrong,” Sam clarifies.

  “You can’t do it wrong,” I assure her. Reaching for her face to hold it between my palms, I kiss her because she’s so damn innocent and beautiful, and each second that passes I think I fall a little more for her. Pulling back, I realize I need to amend my statement, “Well, not unless you bite it.”

  “Right. So, do I, um, should I get on my knees?” she asks.

  “If you’re sure this is what you want to do, then yeah.”

  When Sam kneels before me and licks her lips, my knees nearly buckle.

  “I won’t touch you, so you don’t have to worry about me forcing you to take more than you can handle,” I tell her. “Kiss it, lick it, suck it, whatever you want to do will feel good, okay, baby?”

  With a nod of her head, Sam leans forward and places her lips on the dripping tip, followed by a French kiss that includes the slip of her warm, wet tongue against my flesh.

  “Fuck, yes,” I moan in encouragement, slapping my palms against the walls to try and brace myself. My thighs are beginning to shake with restraint as I fight the urge to open her mouth wider and start pumping in and out of it.

  Sam’s tongue licks around my dripping head a few times before she trails it down my length and back up again.

  “You can…you can use your hands too,” I tell her and nearly collapse to the floor when she uses both of them to double fist my shaft while sucking on the tip. “Just like that, baby. Don’t stop.” I urge her to keep going, and fuck does she, removing one of her hands to take me deeper into her warm, wet mouth.

  My release comes roaring up out of nowhere, squeezing the pleasure from my balls and shooting the first jet of cum down Sam’s throat without any warning. At the same time, her gag reflex suddenly kicks. She pulls her mouth off my dick, but there’s no way to stop my orgasm halfway through. Hot spurts of cream coat Sam’s cheek when she turns her face away, and I already know that’s not going to go over well with her.

  “Sorry,” I say when I can finally speak again.

  Without a word, Sam gets to her feet and goes over to lock herself in one of the bathroom stalls.

  Fuck.

  “Sam?” I call out as I pull my boxer briefs up and shove my dick inside since they’re mostly dry. “Are you okay?”

  “No!” she shouts, making me wince. “You could’ve…I dunno…warned me you were gonna do that on my face?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  When no other response follows, I decide to give her some time. Picking up my pants, I carry them over to the hand dryer, turning it on and blasting warm air over the dampest parts. Once they’re mostly dry and the machine cuts off, I try calling out to Sam again.

  “Baby, hand me your pants, and I’ll dry them for you,” I tell her.

  There are several seconds of silence before she eventually tosses the denim over the door and I go to work on them under the dryer.

  At least now I have a bargaining chip to try and convince her to come out of the stall.

  “Sam, will you come out and talk to me, please?” I ask when her pants are warm and dry again.

  “Give me my pants.”

  “Not until you come out,” I tell her.

  If she protests, of course, I would give her the pants back, but thankfully the stall door opens, and then she’s standing on the other side in her fleece hoodie and panties, her arms crossed over her chest indignantly.

  “You’re upset,” I remark.

  “No shit,” is her response.

  “Because?”

  “Because I…I didn’t know what to expect. Well, I sort of knew what to expect, but…but I thought we would take it slow. And I guess I was…embarrassed because I couldn’t handle…that part,” she replies with her eyes lowered to the bathroom tile.

  “Aw, baby,” I say when I approach her. She doesn’t flinch when I sweep her long hair over her shoulder, so I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry. You were so fucking good with your mouth that you got me worked up before I even realized it,” I admit to her with more gentle kisses down her jaw, hating that I betrayed the trust she had in me to not rush our physical relationship. “From now on
, we’ll go slow. I promise. I never want you to think you have to do anything with me that you’re not comfortable with.”

  With a nod as her response, I hold her face between my palms and kiss her lips softly at first until they finally part so that I can slip my tongue inside. When Sam moans, I know everything between us is thankfully good.

  Not wanting to stop kissing her, I back her up until she’s braced against the stall wall so I can press my body to hers. Our lower bodies line up perfectly, with only her panties and my thin briefs preventing penetration. It’s the closest we’ve ever been and feels so fucking good. I know it wouldn’t take much to slip inside of her, to take her virginity right here, right now. But she’s not ready yet. Soon. Hopefully.

  When Sam grips my shoulders tighter and lifts her thigh up to my hip, allowing me to get even closer to her tight heat, I nearly change my mind.

  “Please, Grant,” she whispers against my lips, nearly sending me spiraling out of control.

  Getting a grip on my desire, I make the decision to get her off with my hands; because if I use my mouth and taste her arousal, I may not be able to rein myself in from plunging my hard cock inside of her.

  I slip my fingers into her panties, using just the tips on her swollen, needy button, causing her to let loose a string of urgent moans. Then, mostly for myself because I want to feel her pussy clench when she comes, I slip a finger inside her tightness while strumming her clit with the pad of my thumb. Our hot, urgent kiss only comes to a stop when Sam’s lips part on a panting gasp. Soon after, she shudders against me with the force of her orgasm that squeezes my finger from the inside.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” I tell her as I milk every last tremor from her body until she goes completely limp.

  …

  Sam

  “It’s taking all of my willpower not to fuck you right now,” Grant whispers to me as I float back down to Earth. That truth causes the haze of my amazing orgasm to fade right away.

  “You’re right; I’m not ready,” I admit to him.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he says, kissing the side of my lips.

  “Is it?” I ask him. “What if you get tired of waiting?”

  “What?” he snaps when he takes a step back. “I’ll never get tired of waiting. No matter how long it takes. If you decide to wait until we’re married, that’s okay too.”

  “Married?” I repeat, my jaw falling open in shock at hearing him bring up something so…serious, so…permanent. I want to be excited by the fact that he’s even considering us together, forever, but I can’t. Not when there’s the truth I’ve withheld from him for weeks now. I was so close to finally telling him when the stupid waves came up and drenched us. It’s time to fess up…

  “Sure, marriage is not something I’ve ever thought about before,” Grant goes on to say, resting his warm palms in the curve of my waist. “But you’re different. I care about you. Like no one else I’ve ever known. I can see us being together for a really long time.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “I care about you too. But the truth is…” I take a deep breath to gather my courage. But before I can say the words, Grant interrupts.

  “The truth is I’m falling in love with you, Sam.”

  Oh wow.

  He’s falling in love with me?

  How can I possibly tell him now, after hearing that, knowing it will all go down the drain?

  “You are?” I ask, rather than admit my lie of omission.

  “I am,” Grant agrees with a blinding smile. “Tell me you feel the same.”

  “I…” The words that I need to say stall in my throat as I look into his beautiful blue eyes. So I chicken out and decide to go with the words in my heart instead. “I’m falling in love with you too.”

  In just a few more weeks, what I have to tell him won’t even matter. It’s not that big of a deal anyway. Grant probably will laugh when he finds out.

  At least I hope he won’t be upset. I can’t imagine losing him, losing what we have.

  I may be inexperienced, but I know that what we have is special, a once-in-a-lifetime love.

  If only the truth doesn’t destroy it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sam

  I’ve just finished our one-mile warmup during our first day of practice and am getting a drink of water from the refreshment table when I see him at the top of the hill, heading toward the track gate.

  “Oh no. No, no, no,” I mumble to myself as I look around trying to find somewhere to hide.

  I’m in the center of a perfectly flat, closely trimmed field of grass that’s surrounded only by the oval, rubber track. In other words, there is nowhere to hide except behind the other team members wandering around. Yes, that’s better than nothing.

  Spotting Hunter, who is several inches taller and much thicker than most boys his age, standing just a few feet away with the other shot put and discus guys, I hurry over and duck behind him.

  “Hide me,” I tell him.

  “Hide you?” Hunter looks over his shoulder at where I’m crouched down and asks. “Why? Did you forget your invisibility cloak today?”

  “Shh. Ignore me. Just pretend like I’m not hiding behind you,” I say.

  “Sam, your face is practically pressed into the crack of my ass. How can I ignore you?” he asks, and I realize he’s right, so I stand up a little higher until my cheek is pressed against his lower back instead.

  “Better?” I ask.

  Hunter turns all the way around, and my face finds its way into his stomach before he grabs my upper arms and pulls me up to my normal height. Sort of. I still try and slouch as much as I can behind his large body.

  “Why are you acting like a crazy person?” he asks.

  “I don’t want him to see me.”

  “Who?” he asks, swiveling his head around.

  “Stop looking!” I shout at him, grasping the sides of his face to pull his head back around. “I don’t know why he’s here, but he can’t see me!”

  “Who?” Hunter asks again, trying to crane his head back around toward the front gate, but my palms on his face stop him.

  “Grant. I mean, Dr. Matthews,” I correct.

  “Who the hell is Dr. Matthews, and why are you hiding from him?” he asks.

  Thinking fast, I say, “He’s just really…hot…and…and I don’t want to look like a fool in front of him, you know? I get so awkward.”

  “No, I don’t know, Sam. If he’s a doctor, then he’s way too old for you anyway, so what’s the big deal?”

  “I just…I dunno,” I whine, burying my face in his shirt.

  “Hunter, Samantha, have you met the school’s new PT doc?” Coach Bowers asks from the other side of Hunter.

  PT doc?

  “Shit,” I whisper while banging my head against Hunter’s chest. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  Hunter peels me off of him to turn around, dragging me in front of his body and forcing me into view of my coach and…Grant.

  “Grant, meet Hunter Bradshaw, our team’s top shot put man, one of the best in the state, and Samantha Elliott, our star sprinter,” coach says, but I barely hear because I’m too busy watching Grant’s face morph from wide-eyed shock to blinking confusion to…there it is. Anger. Seriously intense anger as he begins glaring at me through narrowed eyes behind his glasses. I’m only pulled back into the conversation when our coach says my name again.

  “Sam? Samantha?” Coach Bowers repeats.

  “Yes, sir?” I ask, flicking my eyes in his direction.

  “Where did you say you had your sprain treated in the offseason?” coach asks with raised, bushy brown eyebrows.

  I force myself not to look at Grant when I answer. “At the emergency room. It was no biggie,” I say with a shrug.

  “Right. Well, you ought to have Dr. Matthews take a look just to make sure before our first meet next week,” Coach suggests.

  “I’m sure it’s fine –” I start, but Grant interrupts.

  �
�Yes, Sam, was it? You should come by the office and let me take a look at it.” Grant’s jaw is so tightly clenched that I’m surprised he hasn’t chipped a tooth.

  “Um, okay, if you really think that’s necessary,” I reply.

  “I can bring her by this afternoon,” Hunter offers from behind me.

  “No, that’s okay,” I say, and when I jab my elbow into Hunter’s gut, he reaches around and squeezes the top part of my hip he knows is ticklish, which does not go unnoticed by Grant. If he was angry before, now he looks so furious that I’m surprised red laser beams aren’t shooting from his eyes aimed at Hunter’s hand still resting on my hip. I swat my friend’s hand away before he loses it.

  Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten to know Grant. And one thing is for certain, he’s a rather…possessive man. Now that I’ve pissed him off by getting caught in a rather big lie with another man’s hands on me, he’s either going to refuse my virginity for good, or he’s gonna rip my clothes off and finally take it.

  Maybe I do want him upset…

  I know I told him I wanted to take things slow, and I wasn’t ready, but jeez, for the past few weeks after the blowjob at the park, snails and turtles have been passing us by. I want him to just go ahead and make love to me more than anything, but he keeps putting it off, with one excuse or another. I’m so sick of it. Yes, I love all the things he does to me with his fingers and tongue, but it’s not the same. If not for his hard cock that I always feel whenever we’ve barely started to kiss, I would think he doesn’t even want me.

  “Let me introduce you to our distance runners,” Coach Bowers says before he and Grant thankfully walk away.

  “What the hell, Sam?” Hunter spins me around to ask once they’re out of earshot. “Are you sure you should be alone with that creep? He looked really…pervy. I’ll go with you.”

  “I’ll be fine. He’s not a creep,” I whisper in response, glancing over my shoulder and finding Grant’s eyes still on Hunter and me. I don’t defend him on the pervert issues since that would be a blatant lie.