Inappropriate Thoughts (Victoria Wilde #1) (23 page)

"I don’t know, but I don’t think I’ll ever
play again and not think of you." He breathed in deeply while
fighting back his emotions.

"We’ll always have that tiebreak." A single
tear fell from her eye. After wiping it away quickly, she put on a
fake smile.

He looked at her, grinning. "I’m starting to
think that last ball may have bounced twice. That would have
completely changed the, uh... I would have won."

She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe, but I don’t
think you could have played another point."

"I still had a lot more tennis in me," he
said with his expression dripping with manufactured confidence.

Jillian laughed, and he shook his head as he
glanced up at the sky. Returning his eyes to hers, Brian leaned
over and kissed her on the cheek. She closed her eyes as his warm,
moist lips touched her skin for the very first time. She
desperately wanted to turn to him, to kiss him hard, but the moment
disappeared.

Pulling back slowly from her, he stood.
"Well, I guess I’d better be going."

She rose to her feet and struggled to
maintain her composure. After he handed her the ball, they shared
one last smile. Jillian watched as he walked toward the house, her
emotions getting the best of her, hoping he wouldn’t look back. He
didn’t.

On the drive back to Georgia, Brian decided
not to ask Natalie any questions or allow her to give him any
details. He thought that for them to have any chance, he would
probably be better off not knowing. And since they hadn’t been
dating exclusively, anyway, the worst that she did was lie to him,
and even that was a stretch.

He told her he needed time to think about
everything, but he spent almost the entire ride home thinking about
Jillian and not about Natalie or Rob or the two of them together.
He decided that he wouldn’t jump into anything with Natalie. As
physically attracted as he was to her, he vowed not to have sex
with her until he was sure that she was really interested in him,
that she wasn’t just playing some game, and most importantly, that
she wasn’t completely out of her fucking mind.

The more he thought about everything that
had happened since he’d met Natalie, the more he was convinced that
she was crazy or, at the very least, the kind of girl who enjoyed
watching men suffer. He didn’t want to spend another minute
wondering what she was doing, where she was, what she was thinking,
and whether or not she was really attracted to him. Because maybe
she only wanted to get him back on the hook just to have one more
guy fawning over her.

When they arrived back on
campus, she invited him to stay over, but he turned her down. That
weekend, he did allow her to sleep in his room, where he was the
one in control. When she attempted to unbutton his jeans, he
stopped her, saying that he still needed time to get over all that
had happened. He decided to give her a little of the same treatment
that she had administered to him for so many weeks. When they went
to sleep that night, Brian wore only boxer shorts while Natalie
slept in a T-shirt and underwear. He pretended to fall asleep
quickly and was amused to find that she pulled the same types of
tricks that he and probably a lot of men pulled in bed when
"sleeping over" meant literally
sleeping
over
and not something a lot more active
or fun.

Whenever she found his hand near her crotch,
she would press against it, in the hope that his hand would somehow
spring to life, realize the prize that awaited its touch, and go to
work. Granted, it’s a little easier to jut your male parts out to a
wayward hand then it is the female versions, but that didn’t stop
her from trying at least three times that night. He held his ground
all night, giving her whatever the female version of blue balls
happened to be called.

He woke first and looked at her as she lay
next to him, sleeping peacefully, but he hoped completely
unsatisfied. When he lifted the sheet to look at her, he saw that
her panties were pulled halfway down her ass, and her shirt had
risen up, exposing most of her back. He figured that her underwear
was pulled so far down that it had to have been a deliberate act on
her part—some kind of ploy to seduce him in the middle of the
night. He was sure she was hoping that a hand might travel from her
back down to her perky little ass, discover that it was uncovered,
and once it did, a finger would slip into that magical crevice and
be powerless to do anything except venture further.

It was the female equivalent
of the old male trick, where one’s thing just happens to sneak out
of the flap of one’s boxers "by accident" in search of some fun.
Brian was convinced that’s exactly what the guy had in mind when he
came up with the idea to add the flap to boxer shorts. Were guys
really using that hole to go the bathroom, or was it put there
purely to make the "surprise slip" possible? That slip could lead
to the discovery by your partner and the "
It’s-already-out-so-I-might-as-well..."
kind of mentality.

Exhaling deeply, he sat up looking at the
exquisite small of Natalie’s back, as it tapered invitingly into
the curve of her hips. Maybe he was giving himself a set of blue
ones as well. He felt that familiar surge of excitement rushing to
his groin, and he slipped off to the bathroom and took care of the
problem. It would have been easy for him to fall off the wagon and
be seduced by Natalie, but that would have given her back the
power, and he was enjoying having that all to himself.

After the bathroom break, he went to his
computer and searched for a gift for Jillian. Wanting to say thank
you to her for her hospitality, he searched for tennis-related
gifts and found a DVD copy of the McEnroe–Borg Wimbledon final from
1980, the match with the long tiebreak that reminded them both so
much of the one they had played the last time they were on the
court together. He ordered two copies, one shipped to him and one
marked as a gift and shipped to her. Brian typed a personal message
to be included with the gift, and it took him twenty minutes of
editing his note to finally be satisfied with what he wrote.

Down in sunny Miami, Jillian was craving
pancakes. She grabbed the pancake mix but then reconsidered. She
put the mix back, found a recipe in a cookbook, and followed
Brian’s advice about plugging the griddle in before starting and
adding one extra egg white and more sugar, along with his tip about
how to butter the griddle and make two test cakes. When she sat
down to eat her three flawlessly-cooked pancakes with their
perfect, golden brown air bubble marks, she sighed. After pouring
on the syrup, she cut into the stack with her fork, took a bite,
and smiled while thinking of him.

After breakfast, Jillian went to her study
to write. She started a story about characters based on her and
Brian. Except the characters actually began a physical relationship
starting with the night at the movies. The story pretty much
followed the events as they took place up until they arrived back
home from the movie theater. In her novel, when the woman opened
the door, her son was not there, and the horny couple ran up to the
bedroom and spent a glorious night together.

After writing for so long that her eyes
ached from staring at the screen, she spent an hour hitting against
the ball machine, and while she smashed balls over the net, she
wondered what might have been if Rob hadn’t been at the house when
they’d returned. Would things have played out as amazingly as they
did in her writing or would it have been a big mistake? When
Jillian had exhausted herself on the court, she took a long bath,
grabbed a light meal, and retired to her room to get back to
writing. She spent the remainder of the week cranking out the story
and hitting balls against the machine. Writing for about eight
hours a day, she slaved over every erotic word in the filthy,
steamy descriptions of the many long, amazing sex sessions that her
two main characters enjoyed.

Natalie wanted to go to a movie, and Brian
suggested they spike their drinks and really have some fun at the
theater. She turned him down, saying it was too risky. She said
they might be thrown out or get into some other trouble with campus
security. They went to the movie anyway, but Natalie’s knee never
rubbed Brian’s, not even once… or if it did, he didn’t notice.

Over the next week, Brian found the
pre-Natalie masturbation routine was working quite well, even as
she kicked things up a notch. She took to changing in front of him
while he stood in her room, pretending to read a magazine. Her
panties became sexier with each passing day as his will became more
steadfast. She had never before bought him anything, but that week,
she bought him a teddy bear (tennis-themed of course) and a new can
of balls. She bought herself a racquet and a really sexy tennis
outfit, and they set a date to play the following morning.

That night, they slept at Natalie’s, and
Brian decided to ask her about the mysterious event from her past,
which had prevented her from being able to touch a guy down there.
She refused to tell the story until he threatened to return to his
dorm.

She reluctantly explained, "I walked in on
my brother while he was... touching himself. I was about sixteen,
and he was a year younger."

He thought there had to be more to the
story. "And…?"

"And... it was really traumatic!" She glared
back at him.

Brian treaded lightly. "And... he just kept
going in front of you, even after you walked in?"

"Oh, God no! He was facing the other way. I
didn’t even see it."

"Then… it happened again, and he kept
setting up situations where—?"

"No, he avoided me for weeks."

After staring at her with a blank expression
for a moment, he had to ask, "And that’s the whole story?"

"Yes, that’s the whole story!" She angrily
shot back.

He gave her a sympathetic look, even though
his mind was telling him that she was a freaking lunatic. "I
completely understand." He realized it wasn’t the ideal
formative-years experience, but come on. "Can you touch one
now?"

"To be honest, it was only yours that I
couldn’t touch. This sounds crazy, but it’s your haircut. It
reminds me so much of my brother’s that it was freaking me
out."

He paused, unable to
respond until he glanced at her to find she was staring and waiting
for him to say something. "Oh, that isn’t crazy at all. Hair can be
a powerful... trigger. I, uh... I had that psychology class last
year. We talked about that... visual triggers or something." He
calmly smiled at her, but on the inside, his brain was screaming,
"
Holy shit
!"
After enough time had passed with them simply staring at each other
in silence, he gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I have
to go to the bathroom."

He stood in front of the mirror, making
crazy eyes at his reflection; he couldn’t help but wonder if he was
thinking clearly about all this. After splashing water on his face,
he returned to Natalie’s room. When he arrived, he found her under
the covers, and her bare shoulders were showing.

Turning toward him, she batted her
eyelashes. "I really want to have sex with you now."

He sat next to her on the bed, contemplating
what to do, as she added, "I’m pretty sure I can touch it now."

"Oh, that’s good," Brian said slowly.

"But I have to tell you something
first."

He thought,
O
kay this should be really
good
.

"I’m a... technical virgin," she announced
proudly.

"What’s that?" He made a face as if he didn’t
hear her clearly.

"A technical virgin."

"What does that even mean?"

"I mean I don’t have vaginal sex. I’m saving
that for when I’m married."

He looked at her, trying to process all
this. "So, what kind of sex do you have?"

"Obviously, all the other kinds."

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"Mostly anal and some oral. A lot of girls
are now doing this," she said casually.

"Wow, that’s really specific." After
attempting to process it all, he had to ask, "So, how many guys
would you say you’ve done, you know, with?"

"Four."

"Four," he repeated, jumping a little out of
his skin. "And Rob?" He made a hand gesture as if to ask if they
had also done this act together.

"Yes, Rob." She widened her eyes. "Is that a
problem?"

"Rob’s not the problem," he said
quickly.

Leaning out of bed to her drawer, she pulled
out a pack of condoms and a tube of lubricant, and then handed them
to him. "Have you done this before?"

"No, not really."

"We can go slow, since this is your first
time. It’s fun, and there’s no chance of getting pregnant."

He paused a moment, trying to let in all
sink in. "Slow would be nice." Sitting there, he contemplated his
next move. He glanced at the condom box, and then an idea hit him.
He smiled. "Oh, these are latex condoms. I can’t wear those. If I
do, my dick totally blows up big... but not in a good big way... at
all."

She nodded with her mouth open slightly as
Brian glanced at her, hoping she'd buy his excuse. "Plus I’m not
feeling very well—my stomach hurts. Let’s do this some other time.
I’ll bring the right condoms, and it’ll be amazing."

After giving him a
disappointed-yet-understanding look, she slipped on her T-shirt and
opened the covers to invite him in. "Will you hold me all
night?"

"I will."

After stripping down to his underwear, he
slipped into bed with her. She snuggled up to his shoulder and
smiled. "I can’t wait to finally play tennis with you
tomorrow."