Page 57 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

“Yes, thank you. Thank you, officer. Than?—”

I grab his wrist.

“She got it.” We look at each other for a beat, then bust into more laughter.

Once I shove Alex’s paper collection back into the glove box and the cop pulls away, he drives us the rest of the way to his house, never going a mile over the speed limit. When he slips the gear into park, though, he’s all about speed, darting out of the car and flinging my door open. He grabs my hand and tugs me to my feet, not bothering to carry me this time. He doesn’t have to. At this point, he can race me up those stairs.

We’re in his bedroom with the door closed in seconds, and our clothes are in a pile on the floor a few breaths later. This time feels different. It feels familiar and spontaneous. Like two people in love, making love.

I lay back in the center of his bed and Alex takes my foot in his hand, caressing it and kissing the top. He crawls onto the bed, on his knees, still holding my leg and kissing the inside of my calf next.

“You have really sexy legs, you know that?” He sets my right leg down and pulls my knees up, running his hands over both of them, then sliding them down the insides of my thighs. He comes close to touching me but backs off, and I whimper.

“Always so anxious,” he teases.

“You really like my legs?” I never really think much of them myself. He traces along my shins then lets his hands roam the same path again, this time letting the tips of his fingers tease my swollen center for the briefest of seconds. I lift my hips and he pulls away.

“I love your legs, Nikki,” he says, bending down to kiss my knee before pushing my legs apart, flattening them on the bed.

“I love hearing you say that word,” I hum.

Love. Love. Love. Love.

“Good,” he says, “because I love a lot of things about you.”

He lowers himself, settling between my legs and kissing the inside of my thigh. He tickles my skin with his knuckles then moves to the other leg, doing the same.

“I love this part of you right here,” he says, his tongue taking a small taste. “You have these freckles that line up, they look like the Little Dipper,” he says, tracing the constellation with his fingertip. I writhe, wanting him to move his finger higher.

“Yeah?” I let out in a soft cry.

“Mmm hmm,” he says, kissing me there again.

“And I love this part of you, right here,” he says, resting his wrists on my hip bones and brushing his fingertips along the small trail of hair that I am so thankful I spent time on this morning.

“Yeah?” I cry, lifting my hips. He quickly presses them back down.

“Yeah,” he answers, sliding his body upward enough to press a kiss on my pelvis.

“And your belly button, and this stud that I called stupid,” he says, tapping it with his finger.

I lift my head and look him in the eyes. They crinkle and I know he’s smiling. I can’t see his mouth, though, because it’s too busy being so fucking close to where I want it.

“And your . . .” He exhales, his breath tickling my pussy. I moan just before his tongue flicks my clit, then yelp in pleasure.

“Yeah, I love this pussy, Nikki. I fucking love the way it tastes,” he says, taking a more forceful pass with his tongue this time. My eyes roll back, and I drop my head back to the bed.

“I love the way it gets so swollen when you think about me,” he says, pushing a finger inside.

“Alex,” I moan.

He pushes in a second finger and licks my clit.

“And I love the way you say my name when I taste this pussy,” he says, his mouth moving against me.

“Alex,” I say again, hoping to be rewarded.

He pulls his fingers out and sucks me in, his tongue punishing my clit and forcing me to whimper for relief.

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