Page 53 of Aftertaste

Her fingers stroke the head, and that was all it took for me to get back into action. I dove for her, bringing her against me, and lapping at her nipples.

Now wasn’t the time for slow and steady. I needed her like I needed my next goddamn breath. “I need you,” I told her, not willing to keep my thoughts to myself. My fingers reached between us and I dragged them between her folds, feeling the wetness coat them.

“Me too,” Sage moaned out, lifting her hips so that my cock was right at her entrance. We both paused, our gazes connecting. Our chests heaved, our hearts beating like crazy, but neither of us hesitated as she lowered onto me.

I flicked her clit, slowing down as my cock entered her to the hilt. Her pussy tightened around me, but I let her take control of the pace. I let her depict how fast she was going to go. But as soon as she groaned and her pussy clamped around my cock, signaling she was close, I knew I had to take the reins.

I stood, flipped us over, and thrust into her over and over again, and burned the image of her into my brain, promising myself I’d never forget it as long as I lived.

The Love Bubble

Sage

“Mom!” I shouted, for what felt like the thousandth time. I checked my cell, seeing that we were already running late, and got more and more antsy the longer she took to get ready.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Several footsteps echoed upstairs and then finally she appeared. “Jeez.” She blew her hair out of her face, her cheeks red from her rushing. “It’s only a basketball game, sweetie.”

I bit my tongue, not prepared to tell her why I was so eager to get to school on time on a Friday evening. This wasn’t justanygame. No. It was Prep vs Public, and this game actually counted toward the championship. I still hadn’t told Mom about Storm, but tonight…tonight I had every intention of introducing her to him. I just hoped the spontaneous move wouldn’t backfire.

Mom had gotten a rare Friday night off, and of course it would happen when I had plans to watch Storm play. So, I figured there was nothing I could do but ask her to come with me. I just hadn’t expected her to say yes.

Now that we were finally on our way to the school, my nerves were running rampant. I hadn’t told Storm I was coming either, and I had no idea how he would react when faced with my mom. Seemed like I was full of surprises tonight.

The lot was jam-packed with cars when we got there, but instead of it being the usual beat up kind, we were joined by high-end expensive ones. I shook my head. Of course they wouldn’t ride to a game on a bus like every other high school. These students lived by their own rules, unless their coach demanded they kept a high GPA.

I still couldn’t believe they didn’t get special treatment when it came to their schoolwork, but the more Storm had explained it to me, the more it made sense. The students at Prep had to get into Ivy League Colleges, and they couldn’t do that without being able to actually use at leastsomeof their brain.

The roar from the gym got louder the closer me and Mom got, and the sound of the first buzzer to start the game rang out as we made it into the main doors. We both shuffled up the bleachers, trying our hardest to find some seats, but we had to settle with Mom on the end of one of the benches and me on the step next to her. I didn’t mind though because from here I had an awesome view of Storm in his navy jersey, the number 7 written on the back underneath the name HARTLEY.

My stomach flipped as he spun around, dribbled the ball, and made a perfect shot from halfway on the court. It looked effortless, just like everything seemed with him. But I knew better. I’d watched him practice his shots over and over again on the court in his backyard. He didn’t give up, not until he’d hit a certain number in his mind. Only then was he satisfied.

I wasn’t really sure what the whistles sounding out at different stages were, or what position each player was in, all I knew was there was now only thirty seconds left on the clock and Storm’s school was up by twelve points. They’d won before the final buzzer even rang, but that didn’t mean they stopped. Instead, they played liketheywere twelve points down, right until the last second when Storm made a final basket, just to rub it in that little bit more.

Half of the gym cheered, the players going crazy on the court. Even Mom stood and held her hands in the air, joining in the celebrations, but my attention was too focused on Storm and what he was doing.

He ran his hand through his hair and rolled his left shoulder where he’d been wearing tape for a few weeks. I winced when I thought about the pain that he’d been in the night I’d stayed over. It wasn’t until the morning that he let it show on his face, but as soon as he’d taken some painkillers and worked the kinks out, he seemed fine. I could see through it though. He was nursing some kind of injury; I just hoped it didn’t make a difference in him playing the rest of his games this season.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, watching as Storm spoke to his coach then held his hand up to someone on his side of the bleachers, but the gym was starting to empty.

Mom grasped my arm, a look of concern on her face. “Sage? You okay?”

I swallowed, my gaze tracking Storm as he made his way to the locker rooms.It was now or never. “I have a boyfriend.” My eyes widened. I’d never used that term before, but the more I rolled it around in my head, the more I liked it.

“You do?” Mom tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowed. “Now it makes sense.” She laughed, the soft tinkle echoing around the now nearly empty gym. There were a few people straggling, but no one I knew. “You haven’t been distracted by school work.” Her lips lifted into a smirk. “You’ve been in the love bubble.”

“Love bubble?” I snorted. “That sounds so…ew.”

“What?” Mom pushed her arm through mine and pulled me down the steps. “What’s wrong with love bubble?” I screwed my face up, letting my expression do all of the talking. “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Do I get to meet him then?”

“Hopefully.” I swallowed, wiping my sweaty palm on the side of my jeans. “He was playing tonight.”

“He’s on the school basketball team?” Mom looked shocked, and I was sure it was because my boyfriend played sports when I detested them.

“He is.” I glanced around, seeing some of the players from Prep making their way back through the gym. “He’s at Prep.”

“Wait.” Mom moved back a step, holding her hand in the air. “Your boyfriend is a rich kid?”

I opened my mouth, about to reply when Mom glanced behind me, her face paling. She looked like she’d seen a ghost, and if the small gasp hadn’t escaped her lips, I would have been sure she’d stopped breathing. I turned, wondering what had made her have that reaction, but all I was faced with was a guy in a designer suit.

---