The Best Defense: A Sports Romance

Tillie

The liquor has all but left my head, leaving a raw sense of calm I have never felt before. I expect the familiar pound of a headache against my skull. Instead I am inviting Devon into my bed as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

It's stupid is what it is. I'm not this person, I don't invite play boys into my bed. I'm a nester, he's very much not a nester.

He is hesitant as he watches me pull back the blanket and pat the mattress beside me, but he shrugs off his jacket and climbs into the bed beside me. I try to hide my smile by biting the corner of my mouth but I think he saw it replying instead with his own smile. A smile that would explain how he gets so many girls, it melts even the coldest of hearts.

We settle in and the show starts again, it's the best episode. I wait patiently for the scene where Dean screams he's scared after seeing a cat in a locker and laughter escapes me. I'm silenced almost immediately though when I look to my side to see Devon watching me instead of the TV.

His eyes are searching, and a wave of paralyzing heat courses through me, a feeling I haven't felt in so long. I lean towards him bringing my lips just an inch infront of his, waiting to see if he closes the gap. Our eyes still locked on each other.

All breath leaves my lungs the moment he does what I had hoped he would and gently presses his lips against mine. It's not a particularly heated kiss, more of a test of boundaries. I cannot stop the moan that escapes my lips causing them to open, he's quick though and takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between them.

He's not demanding or forceful in his movements, just exploring and dare I say enjoying the feeling of our tongues gliding against each others.

I angle my head to deepen the kiss and find myself bringing my hands to his body, one snaking behind his head to thread into his dark brown hair. The other planted firmly on his rock hard chest. I can feel the thundering of his heart underneath my palm and it lights a fire in my core. A throbbing need settling between my legs.

I should be thinking that I promised myself to stay away from the hockey team, or that it's so soon since him, or that I just don't do this. I don't hook up on first dates, if you can even call that a date. I just can't bring myself to care about any of that though, not with his scent raging havoc on my senses threatening to make me lose my damn marbles.

His hand settles on my hip where he gently grips, I know what he wants and I should stop it here. I should climb off him, say thank you and ask him to leave. But I won't. Instead I pull my lips from his and move to straddle his lap.

He sucks in a breath as I settle on top of him, feeling his cock hard against his jeans. I want to grind down against it and feel his length against my quickly dampening core. I don't get a chance to before Devon clears his throat and looks at me.

"Tillie." His tone is not heated, or passioante, it's a tone of voice that accompanies the words I don't want to hear right now. My heart drops as he utters the words "this isn't a good idea."

I quickly pull myself off his lap and climb off the bed wrapping my arms around myself as embarrassment washes over me. Tears burning behind my eyes.

"Tillie, I like you..." I cut him off before he can finish whatever bullshit he was going to muster. I'm such an idiot, two days of me feeling knotted up inside thinking maybe someone like Devon Taylor was into me. I obviously built it up in my head.

"Devon, please just go home." I don't even look at him instead staring at the floor.

Frustration laces his words as he tries to explain himself but if I am being honest, I don't hear a single word he's saying. I just want him to leave so I can cry into my pillow.