CHAPTER 17
INTERCEPT
In case there was any doubt, Nicole's tits were absolutely perfect. They fit perfectly into my hands. Her nipples hardened perfectly against my palms. They were perfectly soft and round and just...just perfect.
Nicole moaned into my mouth as my thumbs and forefingers rolled her nipples between them. The sound alone made me want to buck my hips up against her, but I restrained myself even though I could feel her pushing her heat against my stomach.
I sat up a little and rolled us back to our sides. I kept one of my hands on her breast under her shirt, and I kissed her a couple more times before I pulled both my mouth and my hand away.
“We should stop,” I said quietly as I tried to regain my breath.
“Why?” Nicole pouted.
“Well, the door is still open,” I pointed out. “I really don't want to see Greg's head peek in while I've got my hand up your shirt. Besides…I don't want to…to push.”
“You aren't,” she told me.
“I will if we keep this up,” I said. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at her. “I want you. I really, really do. I don't know how to do this boyfriend thing, though. I don't want to…fuck it up.”
Nicole smiled and reached u
p to stroke her fingers over my jaw.
“All right,” she said.
We both settled back down on the bed, and I wrapped my arm around her waist. She started pushing the hair off my face and around my ear again.
“I love the way that feels,” I told her.
“What?” Nicole asked. She tugged a bit at my hair before she tucked it behind my ear. “This?”
“Yeah. It feels good.”
She giggled into my shoulder and kept up the motion as I felt myself starting to drift off. My mind cycled through the day—my run, workout, the picnic lunch with Nicole. I listened to the highlights of the game in my brain and shook my head a little at the weird dream I had. It was strange that I remembered it at all—dreams were the one thing I didn't usually recall. I relived the spicy taste of Nicole's taco salad and the laughter over Greg's fishing exploits.
It was a good day.
I drifted off.
I woke to Greg's voice.
“Nicole? I gotta go into the station this morning,” he was saying. “A bunch of kids got picked up at the beach last night, and I need to go calm some parents.”
“Okay, Dad,” Nicole's sleepy voice said.
“I should be back this afternoon.”
“'Kay.”
I listened to the thump of his feet on the stairs and the opening and closing of the front door. The house went silent, save for Nicole's yawns. I looked over at the clock, and saw it was still pretty early—just past seven thirty, and I was glad Sundays were my off-days for workouts.
I pulled Nicole's body close to mine and tucked my face into her hair. She squirmed and giggled a little then tried to push my hand away from her stomach. I held tight, grumbling, and wrapped my other arm around her as well.
“Thomas!” Nicole cried. “Let me go!”
“No way,” I told her. “You're warm.”
She laughed again.