I really hope he doesn’t notice the way my hand is shaking as my fingers trace the deep purple bruise that mars his skin. His skin is warm, but goosebumps instantly appear, following the path my fingers have made, and there’s something about it that turns me on.
It’s been so long since I’ve actually found someone attractive, let alone let them into my life and my home, but with Matt it feels completely right. We fit together in a way that I didn’t realize I wanted and lately, he’s all I think about. And now, here he is, sitting shirtless in my bedroom, waiting for me to make the first move.
“Does it hurt when I touch it?” I ask, my words coming out breathless and strangely desperate. Desperate for what? I have no idea, because currently, there are a million things running through my head.
“No,” he murmurs, taking in a ragged breath as I run my fingers over the taut muscles of his stomach now. “Madison,” he breathes out and I can’t help but smile at the way my name sounds on his lips.
“Yes?” I ask, leaning closer to him, my lips brushing against his in an almost kiss. Being here in my bedroom together and completely alone feels far more different than kissing him in front of an entire stadium of fans. I would have thought the idea of thousands of people seeing me kiss him would’ve been nerve-wracking, but it has nothing on what’s happening between us right now.
“You’re teasing me,” he replies, smiling against my mouth, my fingers now following a path down to the waistband of his pants.
“I think it’s called foreplay,” I answer back, my tongue tracing his bottom lip.
“I thought we were watching a movie?” Matt asks, shifting so he can look at me, his hand on my hip as my fingers now dip slightly into the front of his pants.
“Oh, if that’s what you’d rather do, that’s fine with me,” I reply, smirking at him as he pulls back a little, and I read the apprehensive expression on his face.
“I’m good with whatever,” he says, attempting to sound casual and aloof, but there’s no way he wasn’t thinking he was going to get laid. I mean, I was thinking I was going to get laid, and I am so ready for it. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or make you think that I was expecting we’d have sex just because we’re alone in your bedroom. Seriously, Madison, a movie is fine,” Matt adds, suddenly sounding a little nervous.
“Are you okay with this?” I now ask, sitting up on the bed and he does the same, our eyes focused on each other.
“I am, but I want to make sure you’re okay with this given what happened to you before,” Matt says, his voice sympathetic as he rests a hand on my thigh.
“I appreciate you thinking about me and how this whole situation will make me feel,” I say back, taking in a slow breath.
I guess we’ve never really discussed in detail what my life has been like since I was raped, and I haven’t really shared much with him as to what my expectations are when it comes to having sex. While he’s worried about me, I should be equally worried about him. This is new for him and he’s trying his best not to upset me. This is something that I will always have to deal with if my partner has this kind of compassion.
As of right now, as I sit here next to Matt with all his concern for me and how to proceed, I’m thinking I should just up and fucking marry him. Most guys run for the hills or act like I didn’t tell them about what happened to me, but not Matt.
“So, it’s been a while since I was raped and I’ve been seeing a therapist, but there are still things that trigger me,” I start, and I watch Matt swallow hard. I hate that we have to have this discussion, but if we want to move forward, we need to. It feels like we’re heading toward a relationship, or we may even be in one. “I can’t tell you exactly what they are because they’re not always the same, but I can tell you that you’re the first guy I’ve wanted to be with.”
Matt smiles, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Really, huh? The first guy?”
“Yes, the first guy, but I’m pretty sure you get that a lot. All those girls in the stands calling your name.”
“But I don’t want those girls,” he deadpans, his eyes focused on mine, waiting for my response. His words make my heart race in the best possible way. This boy is a keeper.
“You’re good at this,” I reply, climbing onto his lap and straddling his hips.
“I’m good at this? I think it’s you who is good at this,” Matt replies, pushing his hips up to meet mine, feeling him hard against me.
“Please, boys get hard just looking at a pair of boobs,” I joke, leaning in and quickly pecking him on the lips.
“Nah, Madison, it’s you. It’s just you for me.” His words come out slow and deliberate, making sure I hear every little meaning in them, and I do. It’s hard to miss them and it’s hard not to get excited about what they mean.
This is all so new, but it’s exhilarating and fun and lusty, and I’ve missed feeling like this. My therapist told me I would know when it was right, and holy shit if she wasn’t correct. With Matt, everything feels just that. It feels right.
“I have to admit, I thought you were just some douche bag, meathead football player when you first walked into the laundromat, but you’ve definitely shown me a side of you I never expected.”
Matt laughs, shaking his head as he now kisses me quickly. “Maybe this was always just who I was and you were being super judgmental,” he teases, nudging my head to the side so he can kiss my neck now.
I moan out loud when he begins to suck just below my ear, biting gently. “Or maybe you were a little bit of both,” I say, trying to distract myself from how good it feels to have his lips on my body, but there is no distracting myself.
“Or maybe I just needed to find the right girl,” he says in between kisses and I’m starting to think we’re both right.
He falls back onto my bed, taking me with him, my body covering his as our mouths connect in a deep kiss. I feel like my body is on fire, the heat radiating between us, and I can’t get enough of him. His skin is warm against mine and as much as I would love this to go further, I can’t help but wonder if maybe we need to slow things down.
He’s the first guy I’ve wanted to be with, that I’ve wanted to feel a connection with, and while he’s not the first guy I’ve slept with since my rape, he will be the first one that matters.
“I really want to do this with you,” I start, trying to figure out the best way to say it without making him feel like he’s done something wrong. We’re dealing with a delicate balance here, both of us.
“And I do too, but I think we should wait,” Matt now says, almost like he can read what I’m thinking. “I want to be patient with you and understand what you need before we jump into this.”
Holy shit! Who is this guy and where the hell has he been all my life?
“I know that I can’t change what happened to you, but I want you to know I respect you and your boundaries and we’re just learning about all those things together, so I’m willing to wait as long as you need,” Matt continues, and I swear I feel like I’m going to cry.
“Matt,” I mutter, holding back the tears I feel, the lump in my throat makes it hard to talk. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I like you, Madison and I kinda need to keep you around since you seem to help me win football games,” he jokes, shrugging his shoulders.
I love how he can go from seriousness to making me laugh all in the span of a few seconds.
“I’m not sure I can take that kind of pressure. What if I have a big test coming up and I have to study and I miss a game?” I question, my teeth clenched in concern.
“That feels like something I’ll have to learn to cope with. Like maybe I’ll have to miss that game to help you study.”
“Oh, that feels like a bad idea. I don’t know much about football, but I do know that you’re one of the best players on the team.”
Matt lets out a low, sexy chuckle that makes my heart flutter. There is something about this boy that is making him very easy to fall for. “How do you know I’m one of the best players on the team?”
I’m now lying next to him, propping myself up on my elbow so I can look at him. “Well, I guess because people were cheering your name and you were out on the field when the game started.” Now it’s me who’s shrugging.
“So you really don’t know anything about football?” Matt questions and I shake my head. “And you still came to my game?”
“Of course I did. You invited me and since we’re putting it all out there, I like you too. Part of liking you is supporting the things you like.”
“What are some things you like?” he now asks me, his fingers moving to tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear.
“Hmmm, that’s an interesting question. I guess I would say advocacy is a big part of my life. I’ve been helping in rape survivor support groups and advocating for better sexual assault laws,” I say, but it sounds preachy and like what happened to me now dictates my life. “I feel like that sounds a little like it’s my only focus, when it’s not.”
“It would be okay if it was. It was something that changed your life.”
“It is, but I have other interests too. I’ve been surfing since I was little. I love to surf,” I now say. “Growing up in southern California, it’s like a rite of passage to learn how to surf. My dad taught me.”
“That’s super cool. I have never surfed in my life,” Matt admits, and I find that hard to believe. He’s been going to school at Hawthorn for a while and we’re only a few miles from the beach. It feels like every guy on campus loves to brag about how they learned how to surf.
“Yes, seriously. I’m sure you’ll find this hard to believe but, I’m a little competitive and I like to be good at everything I do. I’m not certain my ego could take all the falls and how bad I feel like I would be at it.”
“We need to change that. Surf lessons are in order,” I say, patting his cheek. “And don’t worry, I’ll try not to laugh at you.”
“Oh, you cheeky girl. The joke’s on you though, because I’m the one who will get to see your hot little ass in a bikini.”
He has me laughing because he really has no clue and for a second I wonder if I should let him have his fantasy version of girls who surf. I’m sure he’s watched plenty of movies where the girls surf in tiny bikinis and somehow don’t expose their boobs to the world. But that’s not the reality.
“I think you might be in for a surprise,” I tell him, hitting him with a wink as I move over and lay down in the crook of his shoulder. “The water is way too fucking cold to surf in a bikini. It’s a wetsuit which means your junk will be on full display.”
“And so will every curve of your body too then,” he shoots back, pinching my side and making me giggle.
I look down at my watch and realize how late it is. Matt has to be exhausted especially after playing in the game and getting hurt, but here he is, having serious conversations with me about our relationship and joking with me about his inability to surf and making me laugh, but more than that, he’s making me realize that I miss having someone in my life.
“You have to be so tired,” I say, pushing his hair back and kissing him on the forehead.
“I am but being here with you made me forget that I’m going to have to drag my ass to practice tomorrow.”
“How early?” I wrinkle up my nose at the prospect of him having to get up at the crack of dawn when I’ve already kept him up well past midnight.
“Not that early. Practice is at ten and it shouldn’t be too bad since we had a game today.”
Again, I look down at my watch, thinking about how he’s going to have to drive back to his place and wind down once he gets home, which means he probably won’t get to bed for at least another hour. And so, I just put it out there.
“Do you want to spend the night?”