Girl Crush(24)
“Myra!” Roxie’s voice had gone up an octave calling out to the woman in front of us.
“I’m so glad we ran into you. Giselle, this is Myra Volt. Myra, this is my date, Giselle. Myra is one of the High Rollers.” They chatted briefly before she had to run off, and Roxie and I found seats.
I’d never been to anything like this in my life. The moment the whistle blew, I got sucked in. Hardcore. Talk about high intensity, the fans were insane, their outfits were sexy as shit—even on roller skates, and these women were tough. I didn’t know a damn thing about anything going on, but I was sporting a lady boner from the moment they started moving around the track. After about five minutes, I couldn’t figure out why anyone would rather watch football than roller derby.
Roxie’s hand found my thigh, but I was too into the bout to pay attention to her tracing circles inside my leg or her hand moving slowly toward my baby maker. Her eyes were trained on the track, and she screamed and yelled throughout the first half. She tried to explain the rules and what was going on, but it was much too complicated to understand. All I knew was I wanted to be one of those girls.
“They’re hot, huh?” she whispered into my ear.
The way the heat hit my skin and the words blew a cool breeze across my neck sent a shiver down my spine. My senses were heightened, and my body was raw in the most intimate way. Roller derby caused my insides to purr the way my Camaro did—and I was in love. My eyes followed the Jammer in black, I think Roxie said her name was Aerial, but it didn’t matter—all I knew was little girls needed to aspire to this, not boys with bank accounts.
The night with the derby girls was over sooner than I had wanted it to be. I felt like I’d been inducted into a secret society, and I never wanted to leave. Roxie assured me I could find videos of previous bouts, things fans had put together, if I wanted to keep up with them, and offered to bring me back anytime I wanted to come. I eagerly told her to get me a schedule so we could make plans. I had to have more.
My body was hyped up on adrenaline, amped, ready to go. Roxie seemed just as ignited, but she’d also gotten comfortable and let her guard down. As we left, she wrapped her hand around the side of my waist and tucked the tips her fingers into my front pocket. Being with her was comfortable like things were with Ronnie. This chick knew how to have a good time.
“So, back to my house, or do you want to grab dinner…drinks maybe?”
I hadn’t thought about food all day. I hadn’t eaten at Collier’s because it was all fattening crap that would have added five more miles to my run in the morning. Then I’d left in such a hurry, I hadn’t had time to grab a snack before meeting up with Roxie. “How about an appetizer at a bar with drinks?” I didn’t want to sit at a restaurant for an hour at ten o’clock at night, and I didn’t do fast food…of any variety.
“Sounds good. How about the Tool Box over on Fifth?”
The Tool Box had the best fusion in town and a mixologist on staff. It was an odd type of place no one ever thought would succeed when they had opened, and the name sucked. But they were going strong years later. The first night Roxie and I had gone out, we’d both opted for salads. I didn’t know her motivation, but I had been nervous and didn’t want to eat anything that might upset my stomach. Roxie was thin, and I prayed it wasn’t because she ate like a rabbit.
My eyes went wide in admiration as my date started ordering from the sushi menu, and didn’t expect us to share a roll. I didn’t bother to tell her I didn’t eat rice. A little wouldn’t hurt me, and I was sure the concoctions we were about to down were laced with sugar…a carb by any other name. Tomorrow morning would suck. But tonight…tonight would taste phenomenal.
Roxie had shown me an amazing evening. I’d felt guilty not splitting the bill with her at the Tool Box, but Veronica told me if I liked a girl, not to argue—so I didn’t put up a fight…at least not much of one. I didn’t want her to think I expected her to pay. By the time we’d left, it was nearly midnight. The roller derby had me wired, but the food and drinks relaxed me, so I now hovered somewhere in between. I didn’t want the date to end; I didn’t want to go home, but I was ready to chill out.
I walked Roxie to the front door, completely unsure of how to take the lead here, or if I was even supposed to. But I leaned in and kissed her cheek and thanked her again.
She glanced down, suddenly shy, and peered up at me through hooded lids with doe-like eyes. I swear she batted her lashes like Betty Boop before asking, “Do you want to come in?”
Roxie had been flirtatious all night. She’d casually touched me without being intrusive. And her expression appeared innocent at the moment, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe there wasn’t a vixen waiting to reveal herself. The moment I stepped through that door, I was accepting her invitation—inviting her to show me how to play the game.
“Yeah. Sure.” And those two words opened up the playing field and the experience meter. Roxie had been the first woman to give me an orgasm. Maybe tonight we’d explore a little further. If ever I was going to be with a woman, Roxie was perfection.
She kicked her heels off and picked them up. I followed her, not knowing where else to go since I’d never been in her house before. She led me to her room where she tossed her shoes into the corner. Maybe she wasn’t perfect—I cringed at the pile of clutter behind the door.