The Bunhead and the Bad Boy

[ArcticAvenue]

n many ways, it was more like a swimming pool on a hot day than a dance floor, minus the water of course. The dark floor was massed over by people, male and female, all of which were sweating and breathing under the flashing lights. There was some smoky thing hanging in the air that tasted more like stale water Carson breathed in. The humidity pressed in on him like a dank swamp, and if he wasn’t already sweaty from the trist outside, he was now - and soaked to the armpit.

Still, grace came alive and found a beat thrust through her body. Yeah, she was a dancer, it’s her job even, but this was different. This wasn’t the girl that moved with the calculation of sniper going after it’s prey. This was like a fairy free on the wind and dancing to the music. She turned, ground, spun, even lived the music playing across the floor. In comparison, Carson felt like an idiot, shifting his feet and twisting an elbow. He had the energy to keep up, but not the moves, not like he could do on a board. He did alright, but he paled in comparison to Grace - hell, everyone on that dancefloor did. Gone was the girl who did exactly what the choreography demands of her, and here finally was the girl who loved dance.

Carson wasn’t the only one that noticed, not in the slightest. Many looked over their shoulder and watched the lightly dressed girl with the flowing hair spin about. Though few, in turn, noticed the slouching, grungy, long haired boy she was with. That was why the sharks started to circle.

At first a taller guy who spent too much time at the gym working only on his manboobs ground his pelvis into her hip. Carson didn’t even notice if Grace realized it happened, he just grabbed her hand to turn her away from the grunt. He backed off after the move, seemly for another girl to grind into elsewhere.

When Carson turned back to Grace, there were two guys in polo shirts dancing in a small pod directly behind Grace. You could tell they spent more money on their haircuts than Carson would spend on a car in his life. They were nearly twins, both a little taller than Grace, bright eyes, clean shaven, thin & strong, darker hair, tan lines on their nose like they spent too much time on a yacht. The smiles on their face they seemed to think she was for the taking. In his mind, Carson envisioned guys like this, guys who would find some girl high on X and then double team them on the dark dance floor, Grace looked like she was on X, but ain’t nobody double teaming his girl.

Carson danced over right in front of Grace, his eyes focused on the polo twins trying to give them a strong hint to back off. She kept dancing, they did too, and none of them seemed to react to Carson at all. He moved close to her, his hips touching against hers to the rhythm. Over her shoulder he made eye contact with them and mouthed ‘Back Off’. They kept on dancing, but know they were sneering back at him and they moved closer until they were up against her as well.

Carson thought only one thing then … shit was gonna start!

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Lost in her own world, consumed by the flow of music through her body, Grace was oblivious to the impending showdown that was happening mere inches away. Sure she had sensed the bodies pressing against her, she wasn't completely unaware, but she was so used to the feel of someone else against her while moving that the feel of another body was no cause for concern. Swaying and moving with the beat, Grace felt alive and free - a feeling that she loved. Wrapped in the warm embrace of the movement, she barely sensed Carson's own unease. She saw, however, how stiffly he moved and how his eyes shifted around the dance floor, watching the people around them.

"Are you okay?" Grace's voice was swallowed by the music. She knew Carson hadn't heard her, she'd be surprised if he'd even known she was speaking as his eyes continued to shift, never resting on her, but always looking at the swell of bodies around them. Suddenly, Carson was pressed up against her, his hips grinding against hers matching the rhythm of Grace's movements. He was stiff...and not in the good way that he had been during their make-out session, but in a 'I'm gonna defend my woman against the oncoming hordes' type way. And Grace suddenly understood what was happening as two bodies pressed against her backside, essentially trapping her in a testosterone sandwich.

Animosity rolled off Carson in a wave that nearly choked Grace with its intensity. Something was going to happen, Grace didn't know what exactly, but she could sense the growing tension as the three men each tried to act as the Alpha Male.

Extremely uncomfortable in such a situation, Grace wasn't exactly sure what to do. She'd never been faced with this before and her mind went blank as she tried to figure out how to diffuse the situation before it escalated, which was going to happen shortly if she didn't do something.

Placing a hand on Carson's chest, Grace forced his attention back on her. She sought his gaze and held it firmly.

"Let's get out of here, okay." She said, leaning in close so that he could hear her. "This music is pretty lame anyway." Smiling at him, trying to reassure and calm him, Grace brushed a gentle kiss on Carson's cheek. Without so much as a glance at the two men who were still trying to grind on her, Grace took Carson's hand and started to lead him from the dance floor.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Carson could take them. Sure they probably worked out in some lavish club, but they probably haven’t thrown a punch in anger in their lives. The one with his hair bleached blonde had a nose that was asking to get smashed. The one with his hair blondes some other way smiled too much, and could use to lose a tooth. Pow Pow, and it would be done.

He wanted to take them, because now Gracie was realizing what was happen and that free fairy on the wind was now more like any other woman in the world. It seemed like bringing the girl back to reality was as bad as trying to make with her. She tried to get his attention, but as long as they were watching her he would be locked on those enemies. That what he told himself at least. That one really needed his nose broke, and he would have been more than happy to help with that.

Then she placed her hand on his chest, and something changed. Those soft blue eyes, finding him in the darkness of the dance floor through all the humid air and lights flashing, they pulled him back. He felt the anger empty. The need to punch those guys disappear.

She wanted to go, even though he knew she didn’t. Wanted to get him out of there. To save him. That’s what people do, isn’t it? Save each other? Maybe in a former life he would still hit those guys, but she saved him.

He smiled lovingly, nodded, and took her hand towards the exit. Of all the things he became since she fell into his life, it all seemed worth it. Her hand in his as they headed to the door, he could be happy with all this change.

One of the guys behind him, the one than needed his nose broke, said something that Carson couldn’t hear.

Carson turned.

Punched him.

Broke his nose.

Then it was on.

And before the whole of the fight could be finished the cops were coming to break it up for them.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Sitting on the hard, plastic bench, Grace tapped her foot impatiently on the linoleum floor. She had been waiting there for hours, listening to the steady tick, tick, tick of the clock overhead. It was enough to drive Grace insane.

"You look like you could use some coffee." The same rookie cop that had helped to break up the fight at the Boathouse stood over her, a paper cup in his hand, steam rising from the top. He held it out to her tentatively, a shy smile on his lips. Slowly, Grace reached for the cup he offered, giving her own shy smile in return. His sincere and earnest face made it impossible for Grace to tell him that she hated the taste of coffee.

"Thank you." She muttered, her eyes fixed on the pea-green wall just over his left shoulder. A strand of shaggy, copper hair fell in his eyes and he brushed it away absentmindedly.

"So...uh...that guy you came in with...he your boyfriend or somethin'?" The rookie shifted from one foot to the other nervously.

Grace glanced at his name tag: McKenzie.

"I...I don't know." She replied with a sad shake of her head.

"Oh," an endearing blush bloomed in his cheeks, "well he should be out soon."

Silence settled over them. A heavy awkward silence that had Grace self-consciously twirling a strand of her honey-blonde hair around her finger.

"So listen, if this guy isn't your boyfriend do you think you'd want to -"

Grace was saved from Officer McKenzie's question by the loud clang of the metal door that separated the holding cells from the rest of the police station. She stood quickly, handing the coffee back to the young rookie, and waited for Carson to reach her.

As she watched him being escorted towards her by another officer, anger began to boil in her veins. After the...misunderstanding on the dock they'd been having a great time. Then he had to go and act all macho and get himself arrested.

Finally, Carson and the officer stopped in front of Grace, whose lips were now turned down in a hard, frustrated frown.

"He's free to go, Miss. Nobody's pressing charges as long as he keeps out of trouble." The officer said, releasing his grip on Carson's arm.

"Thank you, Sir." Grace bit out between tight lips. She couldn't look at Carson, both embarrassed by and furious at him.

It wasn't until they had left the police station and stood on the sidewalk outside that Grace, finally, whirled around and confronted him.

"Why the hell did you do that!" She cried. "Everything was going great. We were having a good time. Why did you have to get into a fight with those guys? I don't need you defending my honor, Carson. We could have just left. You didn't need to get into a fight with them, it wasn't worth it."

 

[ArcticAvenue]

You don’t forget your first time in jail, but luckily Carson didn’t spend enough time in there to have much of a memory. He got off with a citation. At least that’s what he thinks he got off with. The blood boiling in his brain kept half the conversation with the cop to bits and pieces making it to his consciousness. They brought him in for two reasons. One because the dumbass cop forgot his breathalyzer back at the station and they didn’t believe Carson when he said he doesn’t drink. Also, they were betting Carson was going to go after them again & getting himself really hurt.

There was about six or seven of them that jumped him. Turns out the guy who needed his nose broke had a fucking entourage. Carson was holding his own, but that was too many. He had a nice shiner growing, could taste blood most of the time in the cell, and will surely have some bruises to explain to his aunt all over his ribs and neck.

Turns out the guy who needed his nose broke was the pampered son of someone important, because as Carson was being wheeled away in cuffs they stayed back and went on back to dancing. Officer said something like, charges would have been pressed if there wasn’t the security cam or something, whatever that means. Carson was the first to admit he started it, but for some reason that wasn’t the point.

By the time they opened the cell to get him out, he just didn’t care about anything. He just want out of there and away. It wasn’t until he was practically on top of her did he see her, and that just seemed to turn his anger into embarrassment.

Outside, he didn’t even look up when she laid into him. This he heard in full. This he heard in detail. When she took a breath he started coming right back.

“Why did I do it?” he butted. “You seen him, the fucker needed his nose broke.” He pointed forcefully back in the direction of the club as if it was right next door and the guy was standing there. “He was asking for it. He and his little douchebag friends.” His arms were flailing his face was turning red, and frustration boiled. “Fuckers like that don’t fucking learn unless you break their nose. Asshole needed to get his nose broke. So I broke it.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

"That's not a good enough reason, Carson!" Grace felt like slamming her head against a wall. At least that would have gotten some sort of result. But yelling at Carson didn't seem to have any sort of affect.

"This, us, it's not going to work if you keep acting this way." She felt like strangling him, shaking him until he understood what she was saying. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed heavily and leaned against the brick wall of the police station. "Please, Carson, can you just understand that."

Her hair fell around her face and, frustrated as she was, Grace yanked it back and started to braid it, if only to keep her hands busy. Tears had begun to well in her eyes. Whether she was crying at the situation or the fact that she was pulling so tightly on her hair, she didn't know.

"I can't do this, Carson. If this is what it means to have you as my boyfriend then I'm not sure I can handle it. I have so much going on that I can't add this drama on top of it all." Grace couldn't look at him because she knew if she did - if she saw the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip - that her resolve would break. "I like you, a lot, but I can't date you if you're going to get into a fight every time we go out."

Having reached the end of the braid Grace, finally, looked up at Carson. She could only pray that they could make it through this because she wasn't ready to say good-bye.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

The pressure behind his eye started growing, and now it felt like a headache coming on. His fists balled up and he gripped at his air. He wanted to go off about how over dramatic she was being, or how he just needed to get home and in bed. But she was touching things, that you don’t just don’t touch.

“What is it? You want to go back to that place and see if those pretty boys are still hanging around there?” His sarcasm was only half there, but his anger built in his gut relentlessly. “I am sure they would be more than happy to dry hump you until whatever they were gonna slip you kicks in.”

He was going to stomp away but he got two steps before it kept coming.

“You can’t do this … I CAN’T Do this,” he yelled, his arms flailing. “You got every guy who sees you wants to get with you. Or dance with you. Or fuck you. Or … whatever the hell they want to. Do you know how it is to see they way they know I am not good enough for you? I have to keep Fucking Proving something to you just so you don’t ditch me to all of them. I work and I work, and I have to change this and change that … but I get my ass kicked once for you and you say you can’t do this? It’s like walking on fucking Eggshells.”

The taste of blood was rich in his mouth, and he shot out a colored spit to the cement below. His hands still balled, and he grips the bottom seam of his stained shirt just to keep them steady. He shifts in his spot, like he is not sure what to do, like something is churning to break free.

In a different time, he would have just left without saying a word, threw something through a window maybe, or try to find something to take his mind off of all of this. This time though, he stayed. If was if his body and mind fought his instincts; as much as this was something he should have given up on, something fought to keep him from giving up on her.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Every instinct told her to walk away. Grace should have listened to those instincts. She wanted to. She wanted to turn and walk away from all the drama...from Carson. But no matter how hard she wished her feet to move, to take her away from there, something stayed her. Something deep inside Grace kept her feet firmly planted on the sidewalk.

The tears that had been threatening to spill dried up as she and Carson stood there, encased in the uneasy silence that follows an argument. Tossing the loose braid over her shoulder, the weight of it hitting softly against her back, Grace stared into Carson's eyes. She wasn't sure what she'd find there or even what she was hoping to find. Maybe a reason to stay? A reason to keep fighting for whatever this was between them? The blue-black mark on his face caught her attention, the bruise was swelling quickly over his eye.

Tentatively, afraid that if she move too quickly she'd startle him, Grace reached up and touched the bruise, her touch a whisper on his skin.

"That looks really bad." Grace said, mentally face-palming herself for stating something so obvious. "C'mon, the academy isn't far from here. We'll get some ice on it." She let her hand slide down his cheek, gently brushing her thumb across his lower lip and the cut there, before she slid her hand down his arm and captured his hand in hers. There was dry blood on Carson's knuckles, but Grace didn't notice it. All she could sense was how right her hand felt in his.

The two moved slowly back to Dubois. Grace not wanting to rush Carson as he limped along beside her, no doubt his ribs were bruised. Her own feet ached from the platform wedges she wore, but she kept silent because she knew Carson was in more pain than she. They didn't talk and the silence covered them like a shroud. Heavy and filled with thoughts unspoken.

It wasn't difficult to sneak Carson into her room. This late at night the halls were deserted, everyone either out celebrating the weekend or tucked away in their beds. Grace hesitated before unlocking the door to her room. She'd never had a guy in there before and the idea of letting Carson into her room unnerved and excited her. With a deep breath, she unlocked the door and opened it, stepping inside and pulling Carson in behind her.

"Have a seat." She said, gesturing towards the bed. Grace tried not to think about the stuffed unicorn that sat propped against her pillow or how her pastel pink sheets and bedspread must scream "juvenile" to Carson. Moving into her bathroom - one of the perks of having a private room was the bathroom that came alone with it - Grace wet a washcloth with cold water and wrapped it around the baggy of ice she'd grabbed from the Common Room freezer.

"Here," she stepped back into the bedroom and handed the washcloth to Carson. The sight of him, sitting there on her bed, made her heart race. Whether it was from nervousness or something else entirely Grace wasn't sure. All she knew was that he looked so out of place. A man covered in bruises surrounded by pink and tutus and posters of ballerinas. Grace couldn't help but giggle at the image Carson presented.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Before he took the washcloth, he handed Grace the stuffed unicorn. “Here, I was getting to know your roommate while you were gone.”

It was the first words he said to her since he really laid in out the street, but now he was much calmer. In fact, calmer was an understatement. Carson found himself in a whole different world than that sidewalk outside the police station. Not from the obvious change of dark pavement to wall-to-wall schoolgirl. Different from just being different. His mind fought his instincts when she cupped his face there on the street, saw his bruises, and finally seemed to change herself. Where he genuinely lost was when those dainty little fingers entwined his and they walked back to the academy. All this yelling about neither one of them “can’t” .. and all he could think was, “maybe he can”.

He rubbed his face with the washcloth, feeling the caked blood flake off onto his shirt. The cold compress accented the burning feeling of the bruises under his flesh, but it wasn’t so bad that he it made him flinch. As he tried to clean himself, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Grace. Her loose braid messy hanging from her head, and her summer dress losing it’s brightness from a long night of the trouble he brought. Yet she was still here.

He stood up from the bed and closed the space between them. He reached up and touched her cheek like she did on the street. The rough skin of his finger felt the soft plushness hers. She didn’t have to bring him here. She didn’t have to help him with his bruises. She didn’t have to wait at the police station for that matter, or even spend the night with. Maybe he can after all.

He put his arms around her shoulders. His fingers found the braid of her hair. Slowly, he untangled the fine strands in his fingers as they started to spread out once more across her back.

“I’m sorry Grace.”

He leaned in to kiss her, bruises and all.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Clutching Pascal, the stuffed unicorn she'd slept with since she was a little girl, close to her chest, Grace made herself take deep, slow breathes as Carson slowly undid her braid. He stood so close to her that Grace could feel the heat radiating from Carson's body, the gentle brush of his fingers against her neck as he worked through the braid.

"I'm sorry, Grace." His words were as soft as his fingers and they brushed against her soft as silk. And then his lips were against hers, his body pressing Pascal between them.

Grace whimpered as Carson's tongue brushed against her lower lip, patiently seeking entrance. Her lips parted and, as his tongue met hers, Grace felt herself go weak in the knees. The space between them was too much and Grace pulled the stuffed unicorn from between them and pressed herself firmly against Carson. Not a breadth of air between them. Her arms wrapping around his neck and her fingers twining in his hair, pulling Carson as close as possible. No thought was spared to the cuts and bruises on his face or lips, to the ache of his ribs as Grace wrapped herself in Carson's kiss.

Their night had been a roller coaster of emotion; so many ups and downs in the span of only a few hours nearly giving her whiplash. But Grace didn't regret it. Sure, there were things she would love to change - the fight Carson got into for one - but the night had been, for all intents and purposes, perfect. And she wasn't ready for it to end.

Suddenly she felt herself falling on top of Carson.

"What the..." She broke the kiss just long enough to realize that they had fallen onto her bed. Grace giggled. Her feet, apparently, had a mind of their own as she had, somehow, pushed Carson to the bed during their kiss. Maybe her subconscious was trying to tell her something? Pushing that idea to the back of her mind, Grace recaptured Carson's lips, eager to feel the way that her stomach twisted pleasurably whenever she kissed him.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

The one thing that was clear in his head was that Grace was getting a lot better at kissing. The sexy little thing accepting his kiss was more willing to open her mouth or explore with her tongue. When her stuffed friend dropped to the floor, what was intended to be just a nice kiss goodnight seemed to upped a bit. Then she practically pushed him into bed, something painful in his ribs but he wasn’t going to complain. She had grown bolder and more eager, and slowing her down was not in his immediate concern.

Embracing the giggling dancer falling on top of him, he got a reminder how delicate she was. When her lips found his, he reached to her body and felt the thin creature light as feather laying on top of him. His larger hands encircled her sides and felt at the edge of her ribs under the light dress. He could feel her toned stomach as his fingers explored her. She felt softer than she did hours before when they were making out behind the boathouse, more like being with some sort of angel.

The boathouse … that flashed in his head.

He broke the kiss, and breathed. “I take it you accepted my apology,” he kidded. He brushed her hair back from her face and smiled warmly at her. “I’m glad you did and all, but … I don’t want you to get in trouble for me being here. If I do, the I have to apologize again and that may mean you will push me to do kinky things.” He was half teasing, but something deep down was worried this girl would get a motor running in him he might not be able to turn off.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

"Other girls sneak boys in their rooms all the time." Grace said, pressing soft kisses along Carson's jaw. "So don't worry about me getting in trouble." She could feel the quick flutter of his pulse as she kissed down his throat, her lips lingering over his Adam's apple.

There was something strange going on inside Grace. She had pulled back at the Boathouse, afraid to move further than she was ready for. But here, in the safety of her own room, tucked away from prying eyes, she felt that reluctance fall away. Okay, so she still wasn't ready to have sex with Carson, but, if Grace had learned anything from Jenna's numerous tales of debauchery, there were plenty of other things they could do.

"I don’t want you to get in trouble for me being here. If I do, the I have to apologize again and that may mean you will push me to do kinky things.”

With a sigh, Grace pulled back and met Carson's gaze.

"You're not going to push me into anything I don't want to do." She reassured him. A devilish smirk cross her lips as she leaned in, her hair falling to form a curtain around the couple. "Now shut up and kiss me."

Once more, Grace found herself straddling Carson as their lips locked in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and desire. Every nerve ending in her body stood on end as the pure electricity of their passion washed over her. She could feel Carson's hesitancy and she knew that he was letting her set the pace. Grace wasn't sure what had changed in those few hours since their make-out session outside the Boathouse. All she knew was that she didn't want to slow down any time soon.

Taking Carson's hands in hers, Grace placed them right below the curve of her breast, letting him know exactly where she wanted his touch. She pressed herself against him, feeling his arousal growing as the kiss intensified.

Jenna always said that Grace was too caught up in her own head to have any fun. If only Jenna could see her now. Grace couldn't help smirking a little as she imagined the shocked yet proud expression that would, no doubt, cover her friend's face if Jenna could see her now.

Grinding her hips in slow circles against Carson, Grace couldn't help the moan that bubbled in her throat. Her body was responding eagerly to Carson's touch and the feel of him beneath her. It was...intoxicating. And Grace never wanted it to end.

"Oh god." She panted, pulling away long enough to take in a deep breath of air before her lips were, once again, pressed firmly against Carson's.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Underneath her, Carson felt the first tugs of his restraint leaving him. Grace meant alot to him, and he knew that whatever line that she had that he couldn’t cross was as unknown to her as it was to him. Yet those soft lips digging into his, and her little nose occasionally bumping against his face fed a rush in his body that he knew would reach that point where he may not control himself.

Yet it was her control of him that raised the stakes. She slid his hands towards her breasts. What she wanted, what line she defined at this moment was clear. His finges danced up the last to where it was no longer ribs and muscle but softer curves and firmer flesh. Soon his hands encompassed her small orbs so that his palms spread across the both of them. Like out at the dock, he was amazed how the firm mounds felt in his hands. Each in one hand, he slowly mauled the flesh between his fingers and started to feel the elusive nipple grow under her clothing.

He opened his mouth to encourage her tounge to touch his, to explore more of that dainty girl’s lips. As she kissed him, she seemed to grind into his hips with hers, and it caused his member to react. Through his shorts he could feel her dress shift between them. Even though his body was reacting in a way that brought embarrassment back at the dock, he couldn’t deny the need that was growing in him. It was contact even his mind wanted, not just his body. To feel this beautiful warm blooded woman against him, to feel every inch of her touching every inch of him.

His hands left her breasts again, sliding down her body and across her hips. He didn’t think it was risky, or didn’t think it was pushing her, it was that he was losing the ability to think. As his hands reached the soft bare skin of her thighs, they moved under her dress. He started pulling the light fabric up to free it from being in the way. His hands didn’t know where to stop, but his need now just wanted to remove on barrier between them and bring their touch one step closer.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Any attempt at rational thought flew out the window the moment that Carson's hands encompassed her small breasts. The way that his hands fit so perfectly around her breasts, the heat of his palm warming Grace through her dress, made her heart beat rapidly. It felt as if every part of their bodies was connected; from their lips and tongues straight down to their toes, every bit of them meeting together in an embrace that sparked something deep inside Grace. An almost animalistic hunger that she'd never felt before engulfed her, making her stomach bunch in knots and shivers course down her spine. She was no longer Grace, the dutiful dancer committed to nothing but her craft. Now, she was Grace the woman with needs that burned deep inside and refused to be extinguished. It was a heady feeling, one that drove any logical thought straight from her mind.

Grace pressed warm, wet sex against Carson. She wanted him to know what he did to her. She wanted him to know that she, too, had desires and that he was not alone in his lust. She could feel his own arousal straining to break through the clothing that separated them.

She groaned as his hands left her breasts, her nipples hard and aching from his touch. But the groan soon morphed into a moan of pleasure as his hands slid up her thighs, moving beneath the skirt of her dress, his fingers teasing the skin of her thighs as he moved towards her panties. She could fee him pulling at her skirt, pulling it free of where it lay, trapped, between their bodies. Grace lifted herself slightly, just enough that he could pull the skirt free, before molding her form to his once again.

Laying atop Carson, Grace was perched with her elbows on either side of Carson's head - holding the majority of her slight weight off him - her fingers twined in his hair. Instinct led her as she moved one hand down to the waist of his pants. Her fingers toyed with the button at the top of his pants, as if questioning her next move. Pulling away from the kiss, Grace sought Carson's gaze, her lips swollen from his kiss and parted as she fought to catch her breath.

"I want..." her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, "I want to touch you." The flush on her cheeks was not just from the heat of the moment, but embarrassment at how brazen her words were. Her gaze searched Carson's, questioning and a bit afraid at what was to come next.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

There was a pain in his jaw that remained quiet earlier, but now each pulse of his heartbeat made it throb against what will be a bruise in the morning. Part of the intensity of his feelings at the moment, the building pressure of what this girl was making him feel.

This girl. With her skirt above her waist, his hand found her lower back then traced along the gentle curve of her bottom to her strong dancer legs. Not a girl, stronger than the strongest of women he had ever met. As his fingers touched her body, whether there where it played now or her breasts as he did before, it felt like it was mature beyond her nature. When she broke their kiss, her eyes showed that same maturity.

That girl came back when she spoke.

"I want … I want to touch you.”

Her hand so close to his member almost had it going off before she even seen in. The pressure of weeks of seeing or touching her sexy body, now has him on the brink. He feel like he must look scared to death, reluctant even to her brave request. So he forces a smile, a little laugh with it.

One arm wrapped around her, still tracing what was exposed by her skirt being lifted without dancing too close to what might push her too far. The other hand took that risk. It found hers, next to the snap of his pants. He entwined their fingers, his palm behind hers, but enough freedom for them to work together with his guidance. As one they reached for and released the button, the tension springing it open. He pinched the zipper from between her fingers and guided it down towards his feet. Slowly, the bulge under his grey boxers emerged and he could feel it brushing her palm as it did. While her hand rested at the end of the zipper, he left it with his own. Gripping the bottom of his shorts and pulling them down so the waistband is below his hips so that it wouldn’t get in the way. Then he left his arm to the side as well, letting her fulfil her own request. He didn’t want to force her, so he left her hand there to let her take the last step.

“Be .. be careful,” he said through breaths as his finger dragged along her panty covered bottom. “I don’t know … how long … you know, until ..” His eyes were locked towards hers. Whatever was going to happen, he would feel it, but more so he couldn’t wait to see if it is something she will enjoy.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

There was an intimacy to the moment that Grace had never felt before. With the couple's fingers twined together, slowly undoing the buttons of Caron's pants then, as one, sliding down the zipper, Grace could feel something shifting between them. And it wasn't Carson's very obvious arousal.

Her heart was pounding so loudly that Grace was certain Carson could hear. The air practically sizzled with the anticipation; the electricity of the moment could have started a wildfire.

If she was this worked up over simply seeing Carson, Grace could only imagine what it would be like if - perhaps when? - they had sex.

Grace waited with baited breath, watching as Carson lowered his boxers. Life moved in slow motion as she tried not to fidget impatiently as she sat straddling his legs. It was torture watching, waiting, as he released his...Grace could barely think the word as the object itself finally sprang into view. Her eyes shifted to Carson's, meeting his lustful stare with her own unsure yet curious gaze. She had wanted this, she had wanted to know what it would be like to see him and to touch him. But now that the object of her curiosity was standing firm in front of her, Grace was nervous and completely out of her element.

The seconds ticked by as Grace studied Carson's dick, her eyes sweeping over it slowly. Her eyes traced the line of each vein, moving from the base to the head. But still she did not touch him. She could feel Carson squirm beneath her and she met his gaze once more. A raw need stared back at her. A need so basic, so instinctual and animalistic that Grace could feel it burrowing into her. Her stomach twisted, sending jolts of pleasure to settle between her legs.

Carson's gasps and his pleading to be gentle only served to excite Grace and spur her curiosity.

With shy, hesitant fingers, Grace reached out. The very tips of her fingers barely brushing against the hot, dry skin of his cock sent a shockwave through Grace's system. She could only imagine what it did to Carson. She traced his veins with unhurried, leisurely fingers, memorizing each line. Lost in her own little world, Grace was completely unaware of the sheer torture her touch was no doubt causing Carson. Her fingers moved at a snail's pace from the base of his dick up towards the tip. She watched in awe as his cock twitched in response to her touch as her index finger made its way over the slick, wet head. A groan from Carson made her pull back, her finger lightly coated in pre-cum (not that she knew what that was, but she could guess based off her conversations with Jenna).

"Am I hurting you?" She asked, her hand hovering over his cock as she watched him, waiting for a sign that she could continue her exploration.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

Torture. Long since sweet torture and now into maddening torture. The little fingers moving along the texture of his rock hardness. He grunted and groan with each touch. His cock jumped more than one just from feeling the heat from her finger against it. He shifted around on the bed, the soft sheets under his ass bunching as his squirmed from need. At first when he watched her, he found her explorations sexy. Now, torture.

"Am I hurting you?"

Wide eyed, mouth agape, staring at her with a looks that suggested 'are you kidding me?', he just groaned. He moved his hand to entangle her fingers again. He tried to be subtle about it, but desperation set in. He guided her fingers to encircle his shaft. He moved her hand up the length, as the skin shifted as they pulled. With a squeeze, the head pushed a little more pre-cum out into her fingers. With that extra bit of lubrication he moved it back down the length. Slowly at first, he began to show her the technique he needed. Up & down, Up & down.

Finally with the torture turning into building intensity, he dropped his head back against the bed and started taking in deep gulps of air. His other began to become more active, no longer focused on the trouble in his own sex. It had been drapped around her body, holding her close as he exposed himself to her. Now, he slid it back up over her pantied bottom, until it reached the lacy waistline. Pushing his fingers underneath, he began to explore the skin of her soft curve teasing along the split between the two firm cheeks. Moving quick, they kept their downward movement teasing towards inward shape of her curves.

His eyes closed, his breath came faster. The pent up need from weeks was building in his loins fast, but that build was as powerful as it was quick. The only thing keeping it in check was the desire to make this feeling last forever. But he knew he can’t hold out forever.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

A groan was all she received in reply to her question. A groan that could have meant any number of things, things that Grace wasn't sure she understood. Things had progressed so quickly. An innocent kiss soon spiraling into something so much more. Something that Grace had never experienced before. Grace wasn't used to being in the dark, to being a neophyte - completely and utterly lost with no clue what she was doing. She was used to taking charge, to being the best in any situation. But here, with Carson, she was clueless. She didn't know how to respond to his groans, to the desperate look in his wide eyes. But Carson knew. He knew exactly what to do.

His calloused hand wrapped around hers, rough against her silky skin, trapping her fingers around his shaft. The heat of his arousal felt like a fire, scorching her palm with his undeniable lust and need. Their hands moved as one up and down Carson's hardness. An erotic pas de deux, Carson taking the lead, guiding Grace through the movements. Up. Down. Slowly. Their movements made easier as Carson grew more aroused, Grace's hand sliding along his shaft as it became lubricated with his pre-cum. Grace stared, transfixed, as the milky liquid seeped from the tip of his shaft, forced out by the pressure of their twined hands.

Carson's hand dropped to his side, leaving Grace's alone on his erection. Her steady movement faltered at the loss of his guidance, her grip loosening as it descended down his shaft. Then tightening again as she moved upward. Carson's breathing grew rough, harried from the steady attention of Grace's hand. She repeated the action, her hand loose then tight around him.

Her own breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand slip beneath her dress, his skin hot against the curve of her butt. His fingers toying with the lace of her underwear before slipping beneath to caress her skin. His fingers teased her, dancing over her skin with ease, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her at that moment. And he probably did know the exact response his touch was igniting within her. Teeth biting into her lower lip, still swollen from Carson's kiss, Grace tried to focus on the task at hand...no pun intended. She tried to keep her strokes measured, steady, but Carson's hand against her curves, his fingers toying with her, it was enough to drive her insane. Grace was fairly certain that there was no a dry spot on her panties at that moment as Carson's finger stroked along the line between her cheeks, his hand moving steadily south.

Eyes drifting close, Grace tried to concentrate on the attention she was giving to Carson. But his hand would not be ignored and his touch brought deep, lustful moan to her lips. Her hand moved rapidly now along his erection, keeping the rhythm of a loose then tight grip as she moved up and down.

Lust, desire, and sex filled the room until there was no space for anything else. There was no denying the pleasure that the young couple derived from each other or the fire that burned inside them both. The only question was...who was going to explode first.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

When the tip of his finger first brushed the indention of her sex, he found the heat & wetness to trigger his mindless exploration to it’s final destination. With his shoulder around her back, his forearm pressed between the firm cheeks of her bottom, his hand assertively pressed between her thighs until the length of his finger dragged upward across her folds. This intrusion wasn’t asked for and likely broke whatever limit Grace had ever had, but Carson was well past the point of consciousness. His hand only desired to rub against her soft skin and give her any bit of pleasure to match what she was giving him.

She wasn’t the first to use his hands on him, and by comparison she had much to improve on. Especially when his own hands are more skilled than she will ever be. Yet her agile hand was creating an intense feeling like Carson hadn’t felt. When she started she was keen to the movement, and seemed to create the right build. As they both got closer, she moved like a jackhammer on his member. Each movement pushing his heart beat faster, his breath harsher, and forcing grunts & moans of pleasure. As they lay so close, their hands working the other, their faces were close as well. He was too lost to push his lips to hers, or for that matter open his eyes, but the proximity of her angelic face was felt next to his cheek. His fingers still worked at the surface of her most intimates eliciting more of her wetness with every stroke. All of this helping to chip away the last of his stamina.

Then she gave a full moan that reached his ears. Maybe not her first, but this one he heard. The little ballerina, the cute dancing girl, the sometimes tough, mostly shy, and ever worried bunhead moaned out of pleasure. And when it registered in Carson’s consciousness, that was it - he didn’t even have a chance to warn her.

The first jet of come fired from his head like water breaching a dam. It was followed by blast after blast heading upward to his stomach. His cock bulged as the sperm rushed out with enough force he could feel it force a tighter grip on each of her fingers. His butt clenched and his hips jerked with each shot, the power of his climax was so strong. He had did his best to not push her for weeks, and now relief had come. Relief ripped out of him and across the gap between their bodies in strands of mess on their clothes.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

With Carson's fingers exploring her sex, touching her in places that Grace had never dared to touch herself, the young ballerina was lost in her own world. It was a struggle to keep her mind focused on giving him pleasure as well, the feelings that he stirred in her, the fire that burned between her legs and in the pit of her stomach, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Her kiss-swollen lips were parted as she fought to breath around the pleasure of Carson's touch. Her heart hammered so rapidly beneath her breast that Grace was certain she would faint if he continued to tease and torture her. One hand braced on the pillow beneath his head, keeping her slight weight off his body as her other hand stroked his erection, Grace could feel Carson squirming beneath her. His body brushing against hers in a way that sent shivers down her spine. The arm that held her weight trembled as her body began to shake from the agony of his touch.

"Carson," her voice no more than a whisper brushing against his ear.

Something was happening to her, something that Grace had never felt before. Her stomach twisted in knots that only served to fuel the fire between her legs. The callouses on Carson's fingers sent sparks through her as he rubbed her clit. His fingers venturing towards her virgin sex, the tip of his finger teasing the wet center, made Grace moan wantonly.

There was a shift beneath her and she could feel his body buck slightly, his erection softening slowly in her hand, which was now slick and warm.

Grace's eyes fluttered open as she looked down at Carson, her gaze moving ever lower to the milky seed that had spilled out over his stomach and over her hand.

His finger pressed inside her, filling her in a way that Grace had never felt. She cried out as the sensation of overwhelmed her and her body responded in the only way it could. Her thoughts went hazy, mind and body separating as Grace give into her most primal instincts. The velvet walls of her sex closing around Carson's finger, his thumb still twirling circles around her clit, as she felt the heavy wave of pleasure crashing over her.

"Oh god. Oh, Carson." Words were a struggle as she rode the wave of her first orgasm. Her body convulsing as she let the feeling sweep her away. Her head dropping to Carson's shoulder, eyes closed tightly, as she savored the feeling.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

It took him some time to become aware once more. At first the slimey feel of his own seed hot on his stomach. He was never all the keen of touching his own spunk, and as it lay there, it pestered him to clean up. But the nature of the rest of the experience crawled into his consciousness. The smell in the air was clearly closed room sex. Not just his, but hers, permeating the warmth of the room. The sweatiness of their bodies close to one another.

But it was his hand, still softly resting between her thighs. His middle finger remain dipped inside the tight orifice, as he felt the last of her grip. His thumb now traced the stiff nubbing, outlining in his mind the forbidden clit he only envisioned before. His palm cupped the rest of her mons as best he could, coated in the result of her excitement. His climax was going to happen the moment she first touched his rod, but with his hand caressing the soft folds he was realizing she must have had one too.

He made no rush to remove his hand from her warmth. Made no intention to. In fact, he could lay here all night with his hand on her cunny. For the same reason, he hoped she didn’t move her hand either. In it’s small fingers, his shrinking cock looked bigger than it ever had, huge maybe. The thought of it made it surge with fresh blood. He didn’t think it meant a second round, just that it appreciated the image of it in his head.

Sure he wanted the gunk of his own mess off of his stomach, and didn’t like the idea of it drying up on him like a late night jack-off session, but cleaning it all up meant letting any of this end. The afterglow of the first real intimate experience with Grace. The afterglow of the next big step for them, the next step closer to something more serious. Not the next step to round third and head for home, but something different. Something he couldn’t really understand at this point. But that’s okay, right here and right now is just fine.

He sleepily leaned down and kissed the top of her head and laid his head back again on the pillow. His hand gave soft, smooth strokes over her warm womanhood as his eyelids grew heavy.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Her body felt weightless, lighter, even, than it felt when she as soaring through the air. How was that possible?

Curling up beside Carson, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder, Grace gave a contented sigh; basking in the afterglow. Somehow this moment, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, was far more intimate than what had just occurred between them.

Carson's arm wrapped around her, the weight settling over her like a blanket: warm and comforting; while his other hand rested between her thighs, cupping her sex and teasing her clit with the gentle brush of his thumb. Grace's fingers slowly released Carson's shrinking penis. and slid her hand up his stomach, brushing against the slowly drying semen - the result of her own touch. A slow, happy smile spread across her face as she remembered the pleasure they had shared.

She pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Her eyes drinking in the way his eyes closed sleepily and the upturn at the corners of his mouth which gave him the appearance of smiling in his sleep.

Grace did not want the moment to end.

But she was steadily growing aware of the stickiness between her own thighs and, while it wasn't an unwelcome feeling it was not an all together comfortable one either. Shifting slightly, her thighs sticking together, Grace tried to find a more comfortable position. Carson's hand, still pressing against her wet sex, sent shivers up and down her spine as Grace reached behind her. Feeling blindly, she searched for the washcloth that had been abandoned in the heat of passion. She gripped the still damp washcloth and gently began to clean the come from Carson's stomach in slow, almost sensual, circles.

Pressing another kiss to Carson's cheek, Grace's lips made their way down his jaw. She kissed his chin, smiling as a light stubble brushed against her lips. Her kisses moved slowly downward, her lips moving against the strong column of his throat. Brushing against his Adam's apple. Her hand continuing to run the cool washcloth over his stomach as she marveled at the sensuality in such a simple act.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

At first he felt he was fading in and out of sleep. A long day, a longer night, and moment after moment of raising the heat in his blood left him quite tired. Lying there on the soft bed with the ballerina tucked up against him felt as comfortable and warm as he had felt in a long time. In that dreamlike state, he could have laid like this forever.

Yet he wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t in a dream. So like the Carson of old, the nagging of discomfort started to creep in. He had promised her at one point to take his time, instead he lay there rubbing her pussy. Even after getting her off, he still has it there like some frat boy finger banging a drunk girl. She was smart enough to push him away, but he should be smart enough to not push her further. In his mind what made it worse was that he was lying there with his cock out. As she padded away the remnants of his spunk, he could feel the beginnings of a returning erection. All the while she laid there fully clothed looking as virginal as any girl can wiping sperm off a guy’s stomach. He was feeling the need to apologize, to ask her not to worry so much about his mess, to pull up his pants and hide his manhood. It just felt so good to have her clean him, to lay curiously on him to pull it away.

Something in him wanted to leave too. How was this going to end, that he was just going to expect her to let him sleep over? Curled up with his junk stabbing into her little butt. Maybe get a morning dryhump before getting caught and both of them are run out of the academy? Or did he think he was actually going to fuck this girl. That’s what Sasha suggested once, the only reason he was interested in her was because he wanted a tight little dancer body, right? Would spending the night with her just make it out to be something like that. Doesn’t he always take off before he gets stuck spending the night?

She finished cleaning what was left of the mess on him, and now he was wide awake. His shirt was rolled up high under his arms, his shorts well down to his knees, he lay exposed on the bed for the girl who so quietly and intimately took care of him in the late late night. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of her eyes, the puffiness of her lips, the small turn of her nose. She looked so beautiful like that, though in her way she always did. He thought how it makes him feel when she touches him, not just like they been doing tonight but anytime like when they kiss. He thought how he liked to talk to her, to spend time with her, to watch her dance. Lying here in the bed was different than he though it could be. Being close to her like this, it was different than he could think it could be. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be.

Awake, but relaxed, he ran his free hand through her hair and brushed it off her face. At that moment, he couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t be happier. He could have laid like this forever, but she’d probably forgive him if he pushed his luck a little. “You know,” he whispered with the old sarcastic tinge coming to his voice, “you really should take that heavy dress and tight underwear off before you go to bed. Since you probably sleep in the nude normally, I hate for you to fall asleep with what you are wearing.”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Grace was all too aware of Carson's growing erection as she wiped the mess of his earlier orgasm off his stomach. With her head resting on his shoulder, she watched, fascinated, as it grew before her. And to know that it was all because of her, because of the touch of her hand and the press of her body against his...well it was a heady sensation. Given her lack of sexual prowess and experience, Grace marveled at what she could do to Carson. At how she could make his body react with a simple touch or caress.

A part of her knew that she should make him leave, that it wasn't wise to let him linger. The chances of them getting caught grew by the minute. One never knew when the Dorm Mother would do her rounds, and the woman was notorious for doing random room checks if there was even an inkling of some type of hanky-panky going on under her roof. But the other part of Grace, the part that was currently ruled by her desire to press herself against Carson's body, to feel the heat of his skin against her own, that part was screaming at her to stay as she was and enjoy the moment.

It wasn't just the physical closeness that Grace enjoyed. There was something about Carson that she could relate to. He was the first person, aside from Jenna of course, that she felt she could truly be herself with. The first person she believed would never judge her no matter what. Hadn't he proven himself by agreeing to move at her pace? What other red-blooded male would have agreed to that? Not that Grace really knew what any other red-blooded male would do, but she could guess.

A contented sigh escaped her lips as Carson ran a hand through her hair. Unused to having her hair loose for such a long time, Grace could imagine that her blonde tresses probably looked a wreck. Especially after the night that the couple had had. It was worth it, though, to have her hair loose if it meant that Carson would run his fingers through it. Who knew that such a simple act could be so pleasurable?

“You know, you really should take that heavy dress and tight underwear off before you go to bed. Since you probably sleep in the nude normally, I hate for you to fall asleep with what you are wearing." His breath warm against her cheek as his usual sarcasm came to the surface.

Grace smacked his arm playfully.

"You, mister, are incorrigible." She said, her voice low so as not to be heard from anyone who might be lurking in the halls. She glanced over Carson's deliciously naked form at the clock. "It's getting late," she sighed, "you should probably go. I have an early rehearsal tomorrow...or should I say this morning." As if her body had just realized how late it was, Grace gave a big yawn. Her body begged for sleep, unused to being awake for so long. Grace had lived her life by such a strict schedule that, one deviation from the routine sent her into a tailspin. Now that her body knew the time, Grace's internal clock was screaming at her to go to sleep.

Climbing off the bed, her body suddenly cold at the loss of Carson's body heat, Grace tip-toed to the door and, cracking it open, glanced out into the hall.

"Coast is clear." She said, glancing back at Carson, who still lay on her bed, looking far too tempting for his own good with his pants around his ankles and his shirt pull up over his chest. "You might want to get dressed..." She said with a smirk, her eyes lingering on his half-erect penis. "There's no telling what I will do to you if you stay like that." Crawling onto the bed once again, Grace placed a soft kiss on Carson's lips. "You've created a monster, you know. Now I won't be able to keep my hands off you next time I see you."

Heat rose up her neck as Grace allowed herself to speak so brazenly. But it was true. Even now she wanted to make Carson stay. The image of him tied to her bed flashed in her mind, deepening the blush that she prayed he couldn't see in the weak light of her bedside lamp.

"I'll be at the park again tomorrow for my run." She said kissing him again. "Will you meet me there?" Another kiss, this one lingering, teasing, hinting at things to come.

 

[ArcticAvenue]

"You, mister, are incorrigible."

Smugly he replied, “I don’t even know the meaning of the word.” He really didn’t.

He watched her check the door, find that quick reason to become a little like the Grace of old, but was more than happy to welcome her back to the bed. Returning her kisses, he ran his hand slowly through her loose hair and pulling her body against him. Normally, he would be more modest than this, but he had no issues with laying around there letting her get a good look at his member. Now she was back in his arms he had even less issue with rubbing the growing erection against her body.

But she was right, it was time to leave her. With both of them rising from the bed together, he held her with one hand while snaking up his shorts with the other. “Alright, Bunhead,” he teased. “Meet you at the park at the crack of early. But don’t be surprised if all I do is check you out through your workout clothes.”

Shorts up, his arms encircled her, and he leaned in for one final and long kiss right by the door. Her lips continued to be soft, warm, and inviting in a way could make even a monk start to sweat. Reluctantly, he let go and entered the hallway watching as she closed the door behind him. Drunk on the night’s activities and the time spent with her he wandered slowly down the dorm hallway to the exit. Just before he reached a stairwell, he stopped, suspiciously feeling like someone was watching him. He turned, but before he did he heard a door close up the hall. Now was not the time to push it any further. He beelined for the exit and was on his way.

…

By the time he hit the street, he could see the summer sun start to color the sky something other than dark. The roads were quiet, the sidewalks bare, and if there was one thing Carson didn’t feel like doing it was going home. Chances are when he got there, his aunt would have been up, seen the message from the police department, and then trouble would come along. Besides, there was no telling if Carson would have been able to wake up in time to get back to the park to catch Grace. So if he was going to catch some sleep, he might as well do it where he wouldn’t miss anything fun.

So that is where he was that next morning. Laying on the ledge near the repaired “No Skateboards, or Scooters” sign where he first met her. Instead of being in the middle of trying to destroy that sign, anyone finding him today would find a bruised skater boy fast asleep.