Every Me and Every You - Two

It wasn’t hard to find out who she was.  Once James had read the stories and slept off the rush of hormones they had caused, he had to know.  Maybe he’d hate himself for it - he’d seen the movie Catfish, that would kill him - but the curiosity was consuming.  Isn’t that always the way?  He Googled her pen name, found it in a few other places, clicked around until there was a post by another writer who commented via Twitter.  Two more clicks and there was her feed - he’d read that later.  The next stop was her Facebook profile.

“Thank God,” he’d actually said out loud.  It was protected, showing only four photos along the top bar.  But it was enough.  Cute smile, nice eyes, hot body... James immediately went back to Chapter One and reimagined it over again, more specifically.

It shouldn’t have been so easy to find her, and he felt a little invasive for trying.  But she’d carefully (and pretty accurately, for that matter) described what he liked a girl to do to him in bed, so really all bets were off.

Back on her Twitter feed, she had plenty of hockey commentary.  Most of it was the in-game equivalent of screaming at the TV - he pictured her, wearing tight yoga pants and a thin t-shirt, bouncing on the couch as she cheered his latest goal.  There was a pizza on the table and an open beer - yeah, that was pretty much James’ fantasy world.


She didn’t appear to be married.  She didn’t appear to have a boyfriend, at least not that she Tweeted at.  Mostly what he gleaned was that she hated the Canucks, wished for an ice cream delivery service and wanted Malkin to win the Hart Trophy but not the Rocket Richard.  James laughed so suddenly he almost choked - this girl had the hots for Stamkos too.

“No fucking way,” he whispered to himself.  At least she had good taste - Stammer was his best friend in the off-season.  James made a mental note to make sure Steven never saw any of this stuff.  Because he had a plan.

That night, he scored his 35th goal of the season.  After the game, he checked her feed and sure enough, she’d Tweeted: “35 goals for James Neal! This calls for cupcakes!”  He’d been hoping for an @ tag, so he could pretend he’d seen it on his own page, but no such luck.  Oh well, he’d pretend someone forwarded it if he needed to.  Now what to write?  He couldn’t hit on her in front of almost 60,000 followers. But he couldn’t just Direct Message her, not right off the bat - the whole thing was creepy enough as it was.  He hit the Reply button and typed:

@siximpossiblethings Did you save me any cupcakes?

Val was home, in her pajamas, and she had in fact eaten a cupcake.  She finished a round of “Draw Something” with an epic stick figure gladiator in a chariot and clicked the Twitter app on her phone just out of boredom.  Then she screamed.

She clicked his profile - it was the right page.  A quick do-over on her laptop said the same thing.  The account didn’t appear to be hacked, and no other messages had been posted in the last day.  Val looked at it for a long time, as if it might disappear, before replying:

@jneal_18 Sorry, last one. But there’s a cake at the 36 goal mark - that’s an even bigger party.

@siximpossiblethings What kind of cake?

“The kind where it’s you, me and some frosting,” Val said to her computer.  She could not believe she was having this exchange.

@jneal_18 Chocolate, obviously. Not much of a treat if it’s not chocolate.

She stared at the screen, knowing it was impossible she was having a real-time conversation with James Neal.  Nothing for a few minutes...

Oh well, that was fun, she thought a little sadly, knowing there was definitely a chocolate cake in her future now.  Then a little blue circle with a “1” popped up on her toolbar.  A direct message.

“No fucking way.”

@siximpossiblethings Want to come to Saturday’s game? Not chocolate, but still my treat.

@jneal_18 Yes! And no goal means no cake, so don’t count your calories yet.

@siximpossiblethings What’s your name?

She told him exactly what he already knew from Facebook.

@siximpossiblethings Saturday at will call.  You bring the cake.

James forced himself to close out of Twitter before he said anything more.
____

Val was pretty sure she’d hallucinated the entire exchange and there would be nothing but crickets confused looks at will call.  She invited her friend Meredith along for the ride.  With a blush already rising in her cheeks, Val approached the window and gave her name.  One envelope, two tickets.

“Shit,” she said out loud.  Really good tickets.

“Of course they’re good.  He wants to see what his cake tastes like,” Meredith teased.

The seats were perfect, ten rows up just before the goal line on the bench side.  They went close to the glass at warm-ups and Val watched James skate and drill.  He got a lot more attention these days - both for his skill and his looks.  It was well deserved, by Val hoped he knew she’d written some of those things long before he was a big deal around here.

It was Fan Appreciation Night, last home game of the season.  During the second period they began announcing lucky seat numbers to participate in the Jerseys Off Our Backs presentation after the game.  One fan per player would line up on the ice and be given a jersey.  On the third round of numbers, Val’s seat was posted.

“WHAT?” She checked her ticket twice.

“Haha, I guess it is a random drawing. Unless they don’t know he got you these seats,” Meredith suggested, checking her own.

“That has to be a mistake,” Val insisted.

“Nope.  But if it’s Crosby, try not to hump his leg.  James will feel left out if you share your cake  with anyone else.”
____

Val stood on the ice, looking up at the arena from a completely new vantage point.  It was staggering - all the fans, the lights, the ceiling a hundred feet up.  She was one of twenty five people lined on carpet that had been stretched along on blue line.  The players had gone into the locker room and were filtering back onto the bench in what she assumed were new, or at least clean, jerseys.  She held a sealed envelope with a number inside - the jersey she would win.

Does he know I’m here? she wondered, looking openly at the bench along with everyone else.  The guys all seemed huge - still in their skates, though they’d ditched their pads.  Val watched Michaelek and Malkin joking around, Lovejoy and Niskanen talking with Tony Granato.   James bustled out of the hallway, shoved from behind by Jordan Staal.   She looked away just as he looked up.

Oh God.  

She knew what he looked like, almost recognized him though they were strangers.  Not complete strangers, she reminded herself.  He had invited her after all.  But he’d never said if he intended to meet her.

Katie O’Malley from Pens TV appeared, talking to the crowd.  The first person opened their envelope - 44.  Brooks Orpik worked his way from the bench, pulling off his jersey as he skated the short distance.  Smile and sign, pose for a photo, live on the Jumbotron.  The camera moved to the next winner while Orpik was still talking to the first.  Steve Sullivan was the second number revealed.  Val was twelve people down, right in the middle.  She kept waiting for someone to come up with 18 so she could see James close-up.  But no one did.

“Hi. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Katie asked, all smiles with the lense pointed right in her face.

Val was already opening the seal.  No way, no way...

“Eighteen!” Katie chirped.  “James Neal.”

He was on his way before she could process it.  James took short, easy strides, wearing a big grin on his face.  The crowd roared - he was a fan favorite now.  He lifted his hands to his neck and started pulling the jersey over his head.  The cheering doubled.  Val fought to keep her face straight.

“Hi,” James said brightly.

He was sweaty.  It was the first thing she noticed.  He’d changed into a dry shirt but the edge of the collar was darkening where it met his skin.  That and his eyes were really actually very green.  His messy hair was wet and flat.  Tall, big, strong, smiling... just like she’d imagined.  Just like she’d written.

Hi, I’m the girl with the cake?

“Hi,” she said instead, all nerves and blushing.  As James passed her the jersey, still warm from his body, the camera finally moved away.  He leaned down closer to her, presumably to sign the number on the back.

“Bring my cake?” he asked.

Val froze.  James turned those eyes on her again and laughed.  His smile went through her like lightning, making her laugh too.  He slid an arm around her shoulders and turned to face the camera while she was still smiling.  Click, click.  Then the camera was gone too.  All the attention turned and it was just the two of them, somehow, in the middle of twenty thousand people.  

“How did you....”

He leaned down so suddenly that Val almost stepped back, but his hand was around her arm.  Instead of a kiss on the cheek, he spoke in a low voice.  “Bar at the Fairmont, half an hour.  Can you wait for me?”

Her heart stopped, so she just nodded.    

James looked her right in the eyes.  “I read your stories.”
____

James hadn’t intended to tell her.  Sure he’d rigged the seat drawing, but he planned to get a few drinks in her before suggesting he might know exactly what she’d like him to do to her all night long.  But the moment he stepped onto the bench in a fresh jersey he was staring at her.  Val was sexy - something about her shape, poured into skinny jeans, or the fact she was wearing sneakers and a hoodie when she could have been wearing heels and a tank top.  He’d almost caught her looking.  Raking a hand through his thick hair, James wished there’d been time to shower first.

Here goes.  

He made it to the end.  The opening joke about the cake was perfect - she was surprised, elated.  Then the invitation to drinks got a stunned yes.  He was in.  He meant to stop.  But the look in her dark eyes gave it all away: she wanted him, maybe even more now than ever.

“I read your stories.”

Twenty-nine minutes later he’d walked into the hotel bar.  Another half hour after that, he was kissing her for the first time as the last quivers of her orgasm fell still.

All he had to do was shift over top and nudge her thighs apart again.  Making her come had taken care of getting him riled up.  He should be spent from the game and their first round of fun, but knowing how badly she wanted him was a powerful drug.  His cock throbbed in desperation.  Val melted against his kiss.  Her fingertips dug into the heft of his biceps.  Without so much as a word of permission, James slowly screwed himself inside her.  When she gasped he kissed her harder, so no sound escaped.  He just pressed and moved until he couldn’t go any deeper, couldn’t hold any longer, then they both groaned in pleasure.  James blinked away stars.

“Ohgod,” she breathed.

“I hope I’m living up to expectations,” he whispered, setting an easy pace.  Even now, his confidence was tempered with a very specific pressure to perform.  It was like the first time with a girl you’d known forever, expect James had never done that.  And he didn’t really know her.  Even in this strange situation, James felt the nervous need to make a joke.

Val met his eyes.  Even now they held the hint of a smile.  He was huge in her arms, hovering over and slowly grinding her into the mattress.  She brushed her fingers along the hairline at his temple.  

“All fiction is based in some fact,” she smiled, lashes fluttering as he took himself deep.  Their pace was increasing all on its own. She moved beneath him, sending every pulse back twice as strong.  He
slipped both hands beneath her ass and lifted to give himself a deeper angle.  

Val moaned in appreciation.  “Just like that.”

James laughed and buried his face in her neck.  “I know.”  

Val bit gently at the skin of his shoulder, fighting back another feral sound.  She’d re-read her stories of James like some very twisted homework and blushed the whole time.  Some of her stories were a stretch beyond her own personal tastes - not that she’d deny James much of anything,.  But the ones he’d read revealed all her most intimate secrets.  He caught her mouth again, as if reading her mind, and kissed away any roaming thoughts.  

Her attention gave him confidence.  James let his lips explore the curve of her throat.  Her ass hit his thighs with increasing force.  The soft skin at her hips gave his fingers just enough to hold onto.  Val responded lustily, massaging the back of his neck.

“God that feels so good,” James grunted as she used their momentum to press her fingers along his aching spine.  Val did it again.  His big, solid body gave her plenty of leverage to work against.  Soon her breathing was ragged and the tension pooling between her hips.  James nipped her earlobe, showering sparks down her back, and rasped his five o’clock shadow against her throat.  She shuddered in his arms.

“Do you want to...,” he started without thinking, then stopped but not quickly enough.  He had noticed a pattern in her stories, but certainly never meant to say it out loud.  “Sorry.”

“What?”

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, opening it again.  There was no right way to ask, but he could do better than to simply suggest it.  

“Roll over,” he said, pulling out and lifting so she could move.

A shy smile broke across her face, eyes downcast though there was only more of James to see  everywhere.  He kissed her again, even as his body screamed to be back inside her.

“You really did the reading,” she chuckled, settling onto her stomach. James fit himself against her back, their shapes matching perfectly.  Her soft, forgiving backside fit right into his lap and he pressed his erection right back into her slot.  She sighed in pleasure.

“I hoped there might be a test.”  James pushed with excruciating slowness until he was all the way in - his eyes watered with the effort of holding back.  Val lifted her ass and slipped her hand underneath, then sobbed out a breath when her fingers found her clit.  Just the idea of James was enough to get her off - and had done a hundred times.  All this extra stuff was overloading her senses.

James nudged her knees apart, wrapped one arm under her chest and twisted her up toward him for another kiss as he started moving.  He wanted to see her face when she got just what she wanted from him.  He needed to know this was better.  Three, four thrusts and he was driving her helplessly into the bed.  

Val worked her fingers hard, adding to James’ already capable body.  The combination had her spinning like a rotor, speeding up to takeoff.  James breathed heavily against her ear.

“Are you close?” His whisper was strained.

She wanted to give him a sassy answer, like she had been ready since he Tweeted her or wet since he took his jersey off for her.  But that required thought and all she could think of was, “Yes.”

“Me too, baby.”

So polite, she thought.  Of course she’d given him nearly superhuman powers in the bedroom - the very point of fantasy.  If he wanted to live up to them, she was happy to help him practice.  But she’d still known, even as he took her home and fucked her, that James would be a nice guy.

Maybe not that nice.  After all he had teased her earlier, holding back with his mouth when she was so close to the edge.  He’d made her ask very nicely before he’d let her come.  She got a breath into her lungs, despite his weight on her back, and managed to speak.

“Beg.”

“Ohgod,” he half-laughed.

“Better hurry,” she caught his eye.  “I can tell you’re really close.”

“I’m not that close,” he lied, face red and a vein in his neck straining.  

“”Cause I can wait.  I mean, you feel reaaaallllly good but I’m not going to just lose....”

He cut her off with a slam to the mattress.  Her squeak of surprise melted into a moan as he rode down so hard she saw stars.  No way she could wait.  No way she would even live till the morning.  James plowed into her again and she cried out.

“Fuck,” he gasped, having rung his own bell with that shot.  Now he was going with or without her.  Time to give in.

“Look at me,” he said.  She arched and twisted, his strong arm helping to hold her up.  Her hair was a tangled mess, her lips swollen from kissing and biting.  But any girl could do that.  The spark in her eyes was something else, something he hadn’t seen in a long time.  The aggressive sexual command he’d been about to say slipped his mind.

“I want to make you feel the way you wrote it.”

It was all there on the page, every kind of climax she could think of and he got all the credit.  He wanted to earn just one of those moaning bursts of pleasure through his own efforts.  He couldn’t stop, not this time, but James would fuck her all night if it meant being the hero.  His body rioted and he kissed her hard, lips slipping apart as the tension flared.  Beneath him, Val let out a strangled cry and bucked, her back curling, before everything in his world went soft.  She burst and the sudden softness of her body did him in.  James groaned as he poured into her and pumped himself dry.

“Wow,” Val managed after a moment.  She lay pinned, thoughts wandering among the fireworks still popping in her brain.  What was more strange - James Neal on her back, or not being able to feel her fingers and toes?  The fact that she wanted to alternately act out her stories with him and also hear that everything she’d ever assumed about him was wrong, so she could start all over again?

James shifted alongside and wrapped his long arms around her.  Everything was still shuddering happily.  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“That was better than your stories.”

She giggled and closed her eyes, fighting sleep against the warm shelter of his chest.  “How did you find them?”

James had figured she would ask.  “Staal did.  He’s always looking for that stuff.  He loves the ones about him... did you write any Jordan stories?”

Val kept her face straight.  “Uhhhh....”

“Oh gross, Val!  Jordan?  Really?  He breathes through his mouth.”

She smacked his bicep, the only thing she could reach.  “I never meant for you guys to read them!  Jesus!  How embarrassing.  You must think I’m some sad loser who can’t get a date.”

“Which is exactly why I asked you out,” James smiled.

Val rolled her eyes.  “Because you knew I would be easy.”

There was a dark hint of hurt in her eyes, like he really had read her diary and declared it all fair game.  But it wasn’t fair - even if she’d presumed to know him, it was harmless, a million miles away.  He was the one who’d brought it into real life.

“Because I wanted to be like the things you wrote,” he said seriously.

“You are,” she replied.

“Not just the sex stuff either.”

Val was watching him speak, focusing on the words so as not to lose herself in the perfect composition of his face.  “You are,” she repeated.

“How do you know?”

“I think I’m pretty good at reading people.  And I think athletes show their hearts all the time.  You always seem relaxed and playful.  Then when you get mad, it makes me laugh.  I’m sorry!  You’re like an angry badger.”

“A badger?” He rolled his eyes.  “Like Honey Badger or a regular badger? Am I going to have to fight someone in the first round so you think I’m tough?!”

“You’re tough!  I just... I don’t know.  I already feel like a stalker.  Let’s talk about something else.”

James didn’t even consider not confessing.  “I stalked you on the internet, just a little.”

“I knew it!”  She hasn’t asked how he found out who she was because she didn’t really care.

“I had to know who you were.  Didn’t take that much digging to find your Facebook.  I guessed you lived in Pittsburgh.  And once I saw your picture....”  He rolled her flat and weighted half her body down with his own.  “I had to meet you.”

She accepted his kiss, considered never stopping.

“Turns out I already know you from reading your stories.”

Val pressed her lips together tightly.  It was true - so much of her ended up in her stories, usually without her noticing.  If she re-read them a year later, she recognized herself.  That had proved true when she read the James stories a few days earlier.

“See, not such a good writer after all,” she said.  “My female leads are all the same.”

He cuddled her closer.  “And every guy falls for them.”

“Well, I only write happy endings,” she admitted.

James rolled the rest of the way on top of her, a light kiss quickly deepening into a tangle of tongues and lips.  Beneath the sheets their bodies twisted together in a way that was quickly becoming familiar.

“Should I get my phone? We could act out one of the stories,” Val suggested.

James bent one knee, taking her leg with it until she was spread out and pinned beneath him.  “No need, I memorized them.”

He took her again, the old-fashioned way, breathing shared as they learned their way around each other’s bodies.  The first time James let up, Val rolled on top and took charge, riding his hard length so she was quickly moaning.  His hands cups her breasts, gently rolling her nipples until he got a little rough and tugged one hard.  She squeaked.  He groped more forcefully, she responded by dropping so low onto his cock that James pressed his head back and cursed.  Then he yanked her down to his chest and flipped her onto her side, separating her legs until he was kneeling over one with the other around his waist.  Val twisted her hands into the sheets and let him run.  When his eyes fluttered in pleasure she knew he was close and drew him in for a kiss.  With his tongue in her mouth she came first, just because she wanted to.  James laughed in triumph and buried himself deep before he surrendered.

They lay still and quiet again, each thinking of another part of a different story they might do next.  Or that maybe the good stuff hadn’t been written yet.  James was fitted in behind her, and brushed the hair from her neck.

“Will you ever write a story about this?”

“No,” Val had already decided.  “I don’t do autobiography.”

“What if I turn out to be even better than you thought?”

“If you’re really amazing, like ruin-me-for-all-other-men amazing, then I’ll write it and change your name.  People will wonder why I don’t write about you anymore, but suddenly have tons of steamy stories.”  She paused, turning to face him.  “About Jordan.”

“AGGH!”  James smooshed her face into the pillow, laughing.

“I know he reads them now!  I’ll drop just enough hints so only he knows that it’s really you.  That’s his payment for showing you the story - I really think I owe him one.”

“We’d better do some amazing things then, if you’re going to really thank him,” James pushed a hand down between her legs.

Val’s breath caught.  “There are a few ideas I’ve had floating around....”



** end **
___


Sorry (again) this one took so long, but I'm glad you guys liked it! Thanks for all the comments. - Juliet
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