"Hey, come here," I ordered. He stopped and turned around, looking at me curiously to see what I wanted, and I put my best moves on him. I walked toward him until the entire lengths of our bodies were touching and I could feel the heat emanating from him. I placed my hands on the back of his neck, lacing my fingers to get a good, solid hold on him. "We didn't get to properly greet each other tonight."
Standing on my tiptoes and pulling his face down to mine, I lightly brushed my lips against his. Sid's lips curled into a smile as he kissed back just enough to show his interest but also to let me set the pace. He set his hands on my hips and played with the hem of my shirt until his hands were resting on the bare skin of my back. His touch was driving me wild, and I started kissing him a little harder and faster, thinking I had him right where I wanted him.
He shifted and we separated, and he looked relatively unaffected by my advances. What the hell? My body was on fire, and Sid was as cool as a cucumber.
"So, what movie do you want to watch?" He turned the dim switch slightly to give a little bit of light just like in a theater as he approached the media center to select our entertainment for the evening.
Are you kidding me? He still wants to watch a movie? I thought. "Whatever you want to watch is fine," I answered, plopping down on the couch in the living room morosely. I took the corner, leaned against the armrest and tucked my legs under me. No one's ever turned me down like that before, and I was pissed.
"Well, like, horror? Comedy?" I shrugged and half-smiled, completely uninterested in anything that didn't involve us having sex. Sid slid a disc in the DVD player and sat down beside me. "Okay, what's going on?"
"We're going to watch a movie."
"No, you're mad now. How did you go from being so... friendly... to all pissed off?"
"I don't know, probably the same way you go from kissing me to ready to watch a movie."
"Is that was this is about? Please, don't—don't be mad about that," he stuttered. I looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, and he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to go change," he added, tossing the control to me.
He left the living room, heading up the stairs as he began unbuttoning his shirt. This night was turning into a disaster. I wanted to spend some quality time with him, and instead I scared him off. How did things change so quickly? I thought about changing into something a little more comfortable too, but I realized that I was probably overzealous in bringing clothes to change into. How presumptuous of me to think the night would pan out as I wanted it to.
The movie menu came on, and I saw that he had chosen Anchorman. I hit play, figuring I needed to laugh, and this movie never failed to do just that, no matter how many times I watched it.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Sidney had returned. He stood in the doorway, dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt. He was looking at me, waiting for me to look up at him. I made sure to keep my eyes on the screen and pretended to be too engrossed in the movie to acknowledge his presence. Brick said something ridiculous and I laughed a little too loudly, overcompensating since I wasn't truly focused on the TV screen. I knew I was being petty and childish, but I couldn't help myself; I felt slighted, and I wanted him to feel the same way, too.
After a few moments of tolerating my ignoring him, Sid walked over and took the remote from my hand, lowered the volume, and stood in my line of sight so I couldn't watch anymore. Still, I avoided looking at him.
"Please, don't be mad at me—you won't even look at me!"
"That shouldn't matter too much to you, because it's not like you're interested in me anyway." I didn't mean for my words to sting him so much, but I could tell I had an effect on him.
"You think I'm not interested in you? Please, Nelly, that's not what's going on here. Just, ugh." He ran his hand through his hair, which I noticed he did when he was nervous or frustrated. "I don't know how to say this. It's just that I'm just not sure how I can control myself around you. I don't want to get carried away and make you feel uncomfortable."
I heard the pleading in his voice, and I couldn't help myself—I gazed into his eyes and my heart fell to the floor. "I wanted you to get carried away. What did you think I was doing?"
"I don't know. Being romantic. I didn't want to ruin the moment by going too far."
Somewhere inside me, courage boiled up that I didn't know I had. "Are you kidding me? What do you think that kiss was for, anyway?" I sat up and gave him my full attention, begging him to answer.
"Just what you said—a 'hello Sid, great game' kiss."
"Well, yeah," I explained. "I wanted to kiss you all night, but I didn't want to do that in front of everyone. I'm not big into PDA. But that was supposed to be more than an innocent 'hello.' It was supposed to make your toes curl."
He let out a nervous laugh. "It definitely made more than my toes curl. But you're usually so shy and tentative that it never even occurred to me that you may have been coming onto me."
"Me? Shy? You must be thinking about someone else."
"Not when it comes to stuff like this. When I hold your hand, I can feel your heart rate pick up. And you jump when I touch you. Not to mention how you reacted waking up with me last time."
"What? I didn't react, I just asked you why we were in bed together."
"Yeah, like you didn't like the fact that it had happened."
"Not at all! I'm just not used to being so..." I tried searching for the right word or phrase. Cared for? Sought after? Nothing seemed to fit, so I just continued. "I'm not used to it, is all. But that doesn't mean that I don't like it or that I don't want it to happen. I tried to make that very clear tonight."
He placed one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch and leaned down without touching me. Sid's face was inches from mine when he said, "Well, now it's crystal clear."
This time, when we kissed, I felt his pent-up passion, and it was overwhelming but oh so welcome. We picked up right where we left off, and I felt that warm, pooling sensation low in my abdomen. I reached out and tugged on his shirt to get him closer to me, and he responded by sitting on the couch and dragging me over to sit on his lap. Embracing my newly found temptress, I straddled his massive thighs. I could feel my body pulsing as his mouth moved from my lips, across my cheek, and to my ear. His hands were in my hair, and I wondered if I could die from simultaneously feeling so much pleasure and anticipation at once.
Then his lips moved down my neck, and he instinctively nibbled that spot on my neck that drives me crazy. I gasped and moaned his name. His hands ran up and down my back, and any reluctance I may have had dissolved away.
Pure desire kicked in and I lost control of my body. We broke apart long enough for me to help him remove his shirt. A flash of light from the TV screen caught his necklace and number 87 charm, and it shimmered in the darkness. I ran my hand along its outline before running my hands down his chest. His body rivaled Adonis's, and Aphrodite would envy his beauty (although I'm sure he'd be none to happy to hear me call him beautiful). Our mouths reconnected, and fire passed between us. For the first time in a long while, I couldn't think; I could only do. The mental faded away and the physical took over.
At some point, we moved from the couch to his bedroom. In the moments during which our bodies lost contact, the fog in my head began to clear and I began to second-guess my decision. Yes, I wanted him—but I didn't just want him in bed, I wanted him in my life. Would moving so quickly this early on in the relationship ruin those chances?
Sidney removed my shirt and pushed me down to the bed in a forceful yet playful manner, and then lowered himself on top of me. He felt my body tense, and he politely asked if I was okay. "If you want to, we can stop...."
His voice was husky, deep with want, and I was thoughtless again. I always felt like his voice was as mesmerizing as the song of the pied piper, and he could talk me into anything. Tonight was no different.
"No, I don't want to stop. Do you have a condom?"
"Yeah, hold on a sec," Sid said, moving from his position on top of me and reaching across the bed to a nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a brand new twelve-pack.
As he fumbled with the cellophane, I joked, "Well, it looks like you've had this night planned for a while. Were you planning on using them all?"
A few moments passed before he spoke. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, which I thought was adorable as well as a little terrifying. "I didn't plan this for tonight, or for any night. I only wanted to be properly prepared for when—if—it did happen. As for using them all, yeah, I do plan on that, with you. Maybe not now, but eventually."
I laughed and the tension eased. First times were always so awkward, and we just seemed to make everything worse. "Were you ever a boy scout? You've taken the motto 'always be prepared' to heart." I grabbed the box and finished opening it for him, since his hands didn't seem to want to work.
Sid gladly relinquished that task to me, and instead brushed the hair away from my face and neck, kissing that tender spot again and pulling the strap of my bra over my shoulder. I knew I'd probably have a hickey there come tomorrow morning, but my worries vanished. That's what scarves are for.
We were too impatient for foreplay; as soon as I ripped open that box, I found myself completely naked, on my back, with Sidney above me, poised to enter me and put me out of misery. He hesitated, and I wiggled beneath him, bucking my hips, trying anything to get him inside me. "Sidney," I whimpered.
He chuckled, leaned his face toward mine, and whispered in my ear, "Just say the magic word."
* * * * *
By the time we finished, we were sweaty and drained. I could only lie on my back and stare at the dark ceiling. "Wow," he sighed. I agreed, but I couldn't find the words to express my gratitude or the energy to nod. The bed dipped as he rolled over closer to me. "Will you say something?" I heard a quiver in his question, and I knew that the longer it took me to talk, the more nervous he would get and the more he would second-guess his first-rate performance.
I followed his lead and barely eked out a "Wow." He snickered and nuzzled against me, pulling me to him. As comfortable as that was, I knew I needed to get up and go the bathroom. It was a rule: pee after sex to prevent UTIs. However, I also knew that if I got up, he'd be asleep before I returned, which would cut down on our cuddle time.
"Why can't you relax?" Sidney asked.
"I need to get up," I explained. He let go of me and moved to the other side of the bed. I felt his mood turn sour. "I'll be right back," I added, sliding off the bed, scooping some of my clothes off the floor, and running into the master bath. Why couldn't this night go as smoothly as I had foreseen in my head? First times were supposed to be special, not disastrous. The sex was good, incredible in fact, but everything else was slightly mortifying, one misunderstanding or miscommunication after another.
When I came back out, he was still awake. I hesitated in the doorway, unsure if he wanted me to get back into bed with him. Then it sank in that he'd never officially asked me to spend the night. He invited me over for a movie. I wondered if I should leave. If he let me leave, I knew that this was over. Please don't let me leave, I hoped.
His phone beeped, and he got out of bed, put his boxer briefs back on, and fished his phone from the pocket of his suit, where he had left it. He grunted and typed out a reply, sitting back down on his bed.
"Who was that?" I asked timidly.
"Staalsy. Asking where we were."
"And you told him...?"
"I told him we opted for a quiet night."
"Are you coming?"
"Coming where?" I questioned, suddenly confused.
"Back to bed."
I smiled. "Well, I should probably get going," I said counterintuitively, crossing my fingers that he'd disagree.
"Really? After tonight, you want to just... leave?"
"I don't want to leave, but I think maybe I should."
"No, you should just stay right here. Did you think I would invite you over and let you leave?"
"Well, you didn't say it was for the night."
"I think by now, you have a standing invitation." I laughed in relief when he said that. "So what do you say, eh? Come back to bed, and see how many of these we can get through tonight," he added, holding up the ripped-apart package of condoms.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Casanova?"
"Very much so." He held out his arms, which was my cue to step into them and be held. I willingly obliged, and despite his previous suggestion, we just reclined in bed with each other. Sid was the first to break the silence. "So, what does this mean?"
"What does what mean?"
"Well, does this mean we're together? I mean, officially?"
"Do we have to be?"
"Oooh, shut down," he said, a hint of hurt in his comment.
"I don't mean it like that," I reasoned as I planted a kiss on his shoulder. "It's just that, you're busy, I'm busy. Can't we just keep this fun? No pressure, no expectations?"
"Then I guess this would be a bad time to tell you my parents are coming down next week, during our break before the regular season." I tensed again—my muscles were getting a workout from this alone. But this wasn't news to be taken lightly. "You don't have to meet them at all if you really don't want to, but if you're up for it, I'd like to introduce them to you. As a friend, as my girlfriend, whatever you want. I just want them to get to know you."
"I want you to know, before I accept or decline, that this is terrifying to me. Not because I'm meeting your parents, but because I'm meeting your parents."
"I don't get it."
"Sidney Crosby's parents? I can see it now. 'Oh, you're the girl who's going to distract my son and ruin his NHL career? How nice it is to meet you.'"
"They're not like that."
"Do you know this from experience? Have you introduced lots of girls to your parents before?"
"Well, no, but if the preseason is any indication, they don't have anything to worry about. In fact, I think you're good for me, not detrimental. You don't have to give me an answer tonight. They fly in on Tuesday, and they'll be here for the season opener, too." He kissed my forehead. "Just think about it, eh?"
I nodded. "I'll think about it." And think about it I did, even as my eyes fluttered shut and I dreamt about what nightmare could erupt from meeting the Crosbys.