Page 37 of Playing the Field
He backs me gently against the wall to help me balance before adding another finger, bending to take my breasts in his mouth again, sucking and flicking my nipples with his tongue. There isn’t a single inch of my body that doesn’t feel alive from the sensations he’s creating.
And suddenly I want more. I want to feel him deeper inside me. So I draw him back up to kissing height and after one more seductive meeting of our lips, I slide my mouth round to his ear and whisper, ‘Make love to me.’
A smile creeps on to his lips as I withdraw his hands from my body and beckon for him to follow me over to the sink, where I lean over, looking back at him over my shoulder with an inviting wiggle of my hips.
As he pulls on a condom, I wipe the condensation from the mirror with my hand so I can see his reflection. He moves in behind me, spreads my legs a little wider and has one last play with my clit before he places a hand on each of my buttocks and guides himself inside me, making my whole body shudder as he presses himself against me.
His gaze stays down for a moment, a look of pure concentration on his face as he slides in and out agonisingly slowly. I close my eyes, savouring the sensuality of it, then meet his gaze in the mirror again when his thrusts take on more urgency.
It’s not long till we’re both breathing heavily, my body writhing as he pulses against me. I think it’s fair to say neither of us wants the exhilaration to end, but there’s also a desperate need for release.
Just as I think we’re both seconds from coming, he withdraws, grabs my hand and pulls me into his bedroom, tumbling us both on to the bed and rolling on top of me.
‘I want to see you properly,’ he says huskily as he moves quickly back inside me, pushing in deep and fast and never taking his eyes off me.
‘I’m going to come,’ I moan softly, biting down on my bottom lip. Then my head tilts back and my mouth falls open as I start bucking uncontrollably. He starts juddering moments later, not stopping till he collapses, panting, on top of me.
As he kisses my neck and buries his face in my hair, I can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest. My own heart feels like it’s been blown wide open. If I thought I might be able to keep a handle on my feelings, I realise that’s no longer the case. I am wholly and irreversibly smitten with Ben.
19
Hard as it is to force myself to be sensible after that realisation, a whole week passes before I get to be alone with Ben again. Although we see each other at Crawford United’s Saturday social and the two midweek training sessions, we reluctantly agree not to sneak off together afterwards until my last two exams are done and dusted. I desperately need to do some last-minute cramming.
We FaceTime each other daily though, which alleviates any fears I might have had about him backing off now I’ve slept with him, and we make plans for a romantic night at his house on Friday that he promises will feel even more special after the seven-day wait.
Wednesday’s paper on strategic human resources management doesn’t cause me too much trouble, but my confidence dips again come Friday morning. As global communication in the digital age is a fairly new module for the university, there aren’t many past papers kicking around, which makes it far harder to predict which questions might come up. But I try not to fret about it and just focus on how good it will be to be reunited with Ben afterwards.
He texts me while I’m on my way to knock for Phoebs so we can walk to the examination hall together.‘How do you feel about an evening out on the town tonight instead of coming to mine? Get our glad rags on and properly celebrate the end of your exams?’
‘Where are you thinking?’I type back, thinking perhaps I should actually do something special to mark my last day of being a student and that I’ll still be able to have him to myself back at his place afterwards.
‘I’ll surprise you. My treat. Can you be ready for seven?’he writes.
‘Of course.’My exam will be over by five, so I’ll even have time for a quick drink at the Mexican with Phoebs before I go home to get ready– holding the tacos this time as I’m sure Ben’s plan will involve food.
He tells me he’ll message me again later to check the coast is clear before he comes to collect me and wishes me luck in the meantime. I debate whether I should just come clean to Dad about our relationship, but I’m pretty sure he’ll say I’m being foolish and I don’t want anyone to burst my bubble yet.
By the time I’m sitting at a desk in the exam hall, waiting for the invigilator to say we can turn our papers over, my stomach is twisting at the thought of the three hours ahead. And it really does turn out to be my worst nightmare. Of the six questions we have to answer, only one relates to a subject I went over this morning, and another two are about things our course barely touched on, which hardly seems fair.
I glance across at Phoebs on the desk alongside mine and she mouths ‘what the fuck?’ at me. It doesn’t make me feel any better. If she’s thinking that, even with all the work she’s been putting in, I don’t see how I’m going to stand a chance of doing well. I turn back to my paper and scribble down anything I can think of that might be deemed relevant.
‘That was a stinker,’ Phoebs complains afterwards, when we’re sipping mango margaritas at the Mexican. ‘I wanted to end today on a high but I’m really pissed off. Who even came up with those questions? There are so many other things they could have asked us.’
‘I’m holding on to the fact that we both thought economics was a disaster last year, but we both passed that,’ I admit.
‘I guess we’ll find out in six weeks,’ she huffs. That’s when the results come out. ‘At least Craig can take my mind off it later. I’m going to nip round to his when you go off to meet Ben.’
‘You’re seeing quite a lot of him, for someone you’re not in a relationship with,’ I point out.
‘The sex is fun.’ She shrugs. ‘But I’m only twenty-one. I don’t need to find someone who’s boyfriend material yet.’
As we toast the end of our university adventures, she asks if I’ve thought any more about what I’m going to do next. She’s applied for six jobs already and can’t wait to get a foot on the career ladder.
I’m glad to have a bit of breathing space before I have to look for paid work. Dad is happy to support me while I’m ploughing my time into Crawford United, my latest task being to finalise all the player contracts. It might not be doing anything for my bank balance, but I do think having this experience on my CV will ultimately make me more employable than a lot of graduates.
‘Do you reckon you’ll end up working at one of the big football clubs?’ Phoebs asks. ‘Now you’ve started out along that path.’
‘Maybe, but my real dream would be for Crawford’s ticket sales to generate enough revenue for me to stay working there. As a paid employee, I mean.’
