She’d had a serious boyfriend her whole junior and senior year of high school, and it had taken him ten months before she sacrificed her virginity. Ten minutes with Peter Shepard, and she was willing to sacrifice anything for more time with him. She tapped him on the back, and his head lifted off her shoulder. “So?” Sue her, but she wanted and needed a little reassurance.
His tender smile had her breathing easily again. “That was amazing. Can we do it again?”
She wriggled out from beneath him. “Not today. Beth is probably waiting for me. She’s my ride home.”
“I can drive you home,” he offered.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I should ditch her. It’s bad enough I left her for this long. But I’ll give you my phone number. Maybe you could call me?” She offered it up, praying inside he’d accept, because if he played it cool or acted like he didn’t want to see her again, tears were gonna fall. Shit, why was she being such a schizo right now? Peter’s face wasn’t giving anything away. He was a guy, and even though it was his first time, he probably had some gene that would let him get up and walk away without ever seeing her again.
“Yes. Give me your number. I’ll call you. When can I see you again?”
She reached for her leotard to hide the smile now emerging on her mouth. “Don’t know. Soon. Why don’t you give me your number, and I can call you?”
“No. That won’t work.” He shook his head.
“What, you don’t have a phone?”
“No.”
She spun to stare at him. “What planet do you live on?”
“Earth,” he replied seriously. “I have access to a phone, but it’s a public one, so I can call you.”
“Okay. Do you have anything to write with?”
“No. But I’ll remember it.”
She threw him a face. “Nice try. Don’t bullshit me. If you don’t want to see me again, just tell me the truth. Don’t lie.”
He stood quickly, still naked, and pulled her up against his body. Holy shit, was that his…yep. He had an erection again. “I’m not lying. I have a good memory. I promise I’ll remember your number, and Iwillcall you.”
She didn’t think. Her body acted on reflex, and she grabbed his head to pull him in for a kiss that had her wanting him all over again. The leotard dropped from her hand, and he backed her against the tree, kissing her all the while. Her legs came up, and he easily caught her thighs, holding her in place as his dick found its way back inside her.
“Peter,” she cried. “I…” She lost her words, and hung on for the ride as he thrust up hard, filling her. She hadn’t thought this position was possible, and it wouldn’t have been except with a man as strong as Peter, who seemed to hold her effortlessly, and his movements wrung yet another orgasm out of her.
This time, they could be seen from the concert grounds if anyone looked, but she didn’t care. It was summer and they were young. It felt as though her body had been meant for Peter Shepard to screw her repeatedly in a field.
She came before he did, and she clung to him, as he continued to take her against the tree. Her back would show the marks tomorrow, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. She was free-floating in a haze of pleasure. Finally, he gave a last thrust, then lowered her legs slowly. Her cheeks were rubbed raw from the roughness of his cheek, despite the fact he was clean-shaven. Her palms flattened over his dark-brown buzz cut, and the short soft bristles tickled.
“I believe you,” she said at last.
He gave her a quizzical look.
“Youwillcall me.”
She gave him her phone number, which he repeated back to her once, and then he nodded, satisfied he had it memorized. She was impressed. She’d never remember someone’s phone number without writing it down. They got dressed and walked back toward the crowded concert audience hand in hand. Tears pressed against her eyelids and she blinked them back. She was being foolish since there was no reason to cry. Peter said he’d call, and she believed him. Yet, why did she feel as if she was about to lose something important in her life the minute she released his hand?
Peter strode quickly through the corridor of the campus’s main office building. There was a smile on his face, and it had been there since the concert. It wasn’t just that he’d had sex twice with a beautiful girl. It was that he’d felt a connection to her, and now he was going to try to call her. He’d timed it just right so he could enter the main office building and get through the hallway quickly without meeting anyone. Shit, Doctor Rovinsky was coming toward him.
“Doctor,” Peter said, inclining his head and trying to look too busy to chat.
“Peter, my boy. How are you doing?”
“Well. Busy.”
“Heard you set a new record on the mile track.”
“Uh, yes, sir.” He’d run the mile the morning after returning from the concert. Speed had burst from him as if sex had supercharged him. He edged away, hoping Rovinsky wasn’t feeling chatty. He wanted to call Allison when she got home from work. She’d told him she worked nights at the local movie theater scooping popcorn and pulling sodas. She’d made it sound like a menial labor job, but to a guy who’d never even been to the movies, it sounded cool.