Hard Hitter

“See what?” she asks. “I don’t—oh!”

She does.

“Fireflies!” Emma says with delight. “Oh my God, there are so many of them!”

I smile as she glances back at me, the soft green-yellow glow of the bugs dancing behind her.

“Jay, what is this place?” she asks.

“This is my spot,” I tell her. “A special spot I come when I need to relax and clear my head. And you’re the first person I’ve brought here.”

8

Emma

Jay’s words hit me harder than I anticipated. Maybe it’s because of the magic of the place we’re sitting, or maybe it’s because he’s just that incredible. I tried to fight it all day; I tried to pretend that I wouldn’t be going to the party tonight. I even waited until after Martha had gone out to get myself together, but I knew all along that I’d end up by his side tonight. I just didn’t know what would happen after that. I certainly didn’t expect to be sitting in his truck by the reservoir watching a dance of fireflies out my window while an impossible heat pulses between my legs.

“The first one, huh?” I ask. I don’t know if I’m actually skeptical or just pretending to be. “I don’t know if I buy that.”

“Well, you should,” he says.

“Why’s that?”

He gives me that million-dollar grin again that causes the heat between my legs to tingle.

“You really think I’d need to bring a girl here?” he asks. “Be honest.”

“You brought me here,” I counter.

“Well you’re not—”

“What? A girl?” I suggest.

Jay shakes his head. “I sure hope you are!” We both laugh. “No, what I was going to say was that you aren’t a typical girl.”

I’m half-offended, half-flattered at the same time. I decide to focus on the second part.

“No? What’s not typical about me?” I ask.

My breath catches in my chest as Jay leans in, bringing his lips mere centimeters from mine. What am I even doing here? Weird, curvy art-girl with the school’s most sensational jock?

“Nothing,” he whispers. “Nothing is typical about you. Not your amazing body, your hypnotic eyes, the way your lips pull me in and the way you go toe to toe with me when we talk.”

“You—you like that?” I stammer.

“I don’t just like it,” he replies. “I love it.”

He leans in and kisses me, and although part of me still thinks I should do something to stop it, I don’t. I can’t. I’m smitten – absolutely fucking smitten.

Jay Moore, the biggest asshole-jock on campus, is pressing his lips against mine and I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay with it; I’m like McDonald’s – I’m lovin’ it.

I may be a virgin, but I’ve been kissed before—but not like this. Jay’s lips are magic against mine. A moan falls gently from my mouth as he slides a hand against my waist. I’m wearing a loose blouse of thin fabric and can feel the calluses on his palms from all the countless hours of playing baseball.

I haven’t even seen him play yet, I realize, suddenly wanting more than ever to be in the stands cheering him on.

His tongue slides into my mouth, and I melt. I lean right into him and press my body against his. I don’t know why Jay is into a girl like me, but when he feels my chest against his, he reacts quickly.

He cups my breast and my lips fall from his as I collapse against him. It’s the first time a man’s touched me that way, and I don’t even know what to do with myself. He squeezes, causing my breath to leave my chest, and I reach up with both hands and grip his strong shoulders and hold on for dear life. He must sense something in my body, because he leans in and whispers in my ear, “Don’t be nervous.”