Stone Creek by Davis, Lainey (reading diary .TXT) 📕

like talking about this with him. Within a half hour, we have a plan for dividing the research and a loose timeline for our report and presentation. "I can bring in my MRI scans for visual aides," Talon jokes as I start to pack up my things.

I laugh and say, "I owe you an apology I think. You're a really good research partner, Talon." He smiles, and I start to walk toward the coat rack for my things.

He reaches for my arm, his fingers grazing my wrist. I stop, and he says, "It's still early. You want to have a beer with me? We can watch Survivor."

Is this turning into a date? I swallow and nod my head. "Sure. I'd like that."

He gets up from the table and I notice he's not wearing his knee brace. When I ask about it, he lights up. "Things are going so great in PT. They told me I only need the brace now when I'll be walking a long way or working out. I mean, you can see I'm still limping…"

"That's amazing," I say, taking the cold bottle of Sam Adams from him. "You only had your surgery what? Like two weeks ago?" I sit on the opposite end of the couch from him, but he spreads out until his leg nearly touches mine. He drapes his arm casually over the back of the sofa, and I feel the tingle of anticipation, unsure where we stand. I can't tell if I'm entering Talon's friend zone or if tonight might finally be the night I let go of my virginity.

Talon props his injured leg up on the coffee table and pats his thigh. "The trainers promised to take good care of me, and it's working out. I'm pretty set on playing full contact again by summer training."

The show starts and we watch the credits, showing the intense faces of the contestants in the physical challenges. I look into his eyes without hesitating and say, "You work harder than all these folks, Talon. I saw you the other day at PT." He smiles. "You're really driven. You'll make it back as a starter."

He reaches for one of my braids and fiddles with the end, running his fingers along the smooth bottom beneath the hair tie. "What are the odds of that, Serena? Tell me the statistics." His face is serious now, and I'm not sure whether he really wants to know.

"You must have googled it," I say, my voice soft. I can see Talon is really vulnerable about this, about the idea that his career might be over. Before he went down against Kentucky, he was highly assumed to be an early NFL draft pick. "Quarterbacks have a really high rate of return after an ACL tear--"

He slides closer to me on the couch, his arm around my shoulder now, fingers rubbing my arm. "I love that you know that," he says in a husky voice. I open my mouth to say something else, but he leans in for a kiss.

He left hand comes around to gently stroke my cheek as his lips press into mine. I taste the hoppy flavor of his beer and that uniquely-Talon essence as his tongue slides into my mouth. It feels so good to be in his arms, to be making out with a guy, but I start to realize just how much I like that it's him in my arms. My mind starts racing. I want to savor what's happening right now, even as I worry about what it all might mean tomorrow. Then Talon lets his right hand slide along my arm and onto my breast.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

I hear Talon moan softly as he kisses me and begins to caress my breast. I let go of all my worries and concern. There is nothing beyond this moment, in his arms, with his soft tongue gently exploring my mouth. His lips move to kiss along my jaw and I feel the tickle of his facial hair stubble coming in.

The rasping hair against the sensitive skin of my neck raises goosebumps on my skin and he pulls back, smiling, tracing along my collarbone with his finger. "Come here," he says, sitting back onto the couch. He tugs my hand and pulls me onto his lap, so I'm straddling him, careful as I swing my leg above his injured knee.

Once I've got my legs around his waist, I can feel his magnificent body pressed against mine. It's every bit as wonderful as I'd imagined. Talon feels so powerful compared to my soft curves. I start running my hands along his chest, leaning in to kiss him again, finally allowing myself to bury my fingers into his soft curls. "God, you feel good," I say, and then lose my nerve.

I pull back and bite my lip, feeling self-conscious. I don't want him to know how inexperienced I am, and I'm worried that my frenzied, hungry explorations seem childish to him somehow. He strokes my cheek and says, "What is it?"

When I don’t answer right away, he pulls me close, kissing me again. He presses his forehead against mine as his hands gently rub the skin on my arms. I say, "I don't know what makes you feel good--I mean I don't know what you like."

He smiles. "I like this," he says, pulling my hands back to his chest where they had been as he kisses me again. "I really like these," he whispers, cupping my breasts with both hands. I look down and I can see my nipples standing taut through the material of my shirt and bra. As Talon begins to rub his thumbs along the stiff peaks I begin to groan in pleasure.

Once again, he has found a way to connect my nipples to the aching, moist space between my legs. I feel my heart racing, the