Chapter 2
So it turns out, Lottie is as demanding and confident off the field as she is on it. Maybe even a little more. Who would've thought?
And Nat?
Well, she’s not really one to complain about it because she’s currently a little preoccupied.
She easily welcomes the contact, surrendering to Lottie’s unspoken demands. Her hands dig deep into Lottie’s hips, encouraging her to grind down even harder. They find a smooth rhythm, and Natalie strengthens her hold to the point where she's afraid the skin may bruise before turning her head to give Lottie more real estate to work on her neck.
Everything is burning, and Lottie pounces on the gracious opportunity. Her lips apply just the right amount of pressure to make Natalie shiver. They’re both wet, a mix of sweat and arousal, and Natalie fights for her life not to moan. The way Lottie’s sucking her neck right now, like she wants to eat her alive, like she’s savoring every bit of contact they're making, makes her want to come on the spot.
If you would’ve asked her if her Friday evening would have consisted of dry humping in her car, she would definitely have believed you. But with someone who looked like Lottie? Shit. Fat chance. She's not stupid though, she sure wasn't about to complain.
Desperation seems to hit both of them simultaneously, and eventually being cramped up in the front seat doesn’t provide enough friction. Natalie wanted more. Needed more.
Sex was an enjoyable thing for her. It was easy, again something she was good at. The people are variable, but the gist of the motions stay the same. All muscle memory really. Get what you want, give if you want, and go. Also her favorite passing drill.
“Backseat,” Nat practically snarls. “Now.”
Quickly obliging, Lottie crawls into the back, and it’s a scramble for assertion of dominance. Nat takes the lead for now as she tugs her own tee off after blindly throwing some stuff to the car floor. She crashes their lips together hard. The kisses are bruising, breathy, and hungry, each one getting more forceful.
In her pursuit to take control, she licks up her throat and settles back onto Lottie’s mouth, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth.
Lottie’s skin tastes like salt and downright trouble, but her lips are almost sweet, probably remnants of some sort of fruity lip balm. She bites her lip hard enough to illicit a small yelp, and then Nat can’t stop the noise that escapes her when she licks into Lottie’s mouth after she soothes her pain.
Their tongues meet in a frenzy, and Natalie finds enough composure to run hers over the top row of Lottie’s teeth, lingering on both canines.
As she licks over her teeth, Natalie can feel Lottie’s nails digging into her back, clawing shamelessly; so, she adds that to the list of things that turns Lottie on. The list also doubled as a list of things that Natalie plans to do again.
Her own hand trails up Lottie’s neck while they make out, and eventually she doesn’t even have to ask because Lottie grabs her hand and tugs it down, encouraging her to squeeze.
Apparently, maybe center back wasn't the only position Lottie played, because this girl was definitely forward too.
“Shit,” Natalie manages, stunned at the way the brunette is clearly getting off on being choked by her. Another thing to add to the list.
So there she is, gripping the shit out of this girl's neck, applying just enough pressure to make Lottie flush with fervor and gasp for a moment before letting go. Adrenaline courses through Natalie's veins. She loves the thrill, loves making others squirm for her. It's a little surprising, that they're already doing something like this. Choking was more of a second or third time type of vibe typically, but again, Natalie was not about to complain. She is well aware though, aware that she's flirting with danger.
Natalie has always been a bit of a daredevil anyway.
What she also can't deny, is how beautiful Lottie looks like this. Her brown, lascivious eyes boring into hers as she trusts her enough to wrap her fingers around her neck. So vulnerable and lustful. It shouldn't impact her this way, she shouldn't want to burn the image of her into her brain. Natalie tightens her grip one last time before freeing Lottie.
Unable to contain herself now, she reaches down to tug the brunette's shorts off as she lets her catch her breath.
Lottie hums, fairly unfazed from the choking, as she reaches up and puts her hands on Nat’s sports bra, looking at her and silently asking for permission.
Natalie nearly induces her own vertigo with how fast she nods, and once Lottie yanks that off she flips them over with ease. It should be unsurprising, really, given the fact that Lottie's much taller, something like 5'10, but Natalie is surprised anyway at how swift the switch is.
Lottie moves with such determination, the way people who are late for their flight move in a crowded airport. She's fearless, hasty, and dead set on getting to exactly what she wants. Her hands ghost over Natalie’s shorts and slows her movements so she can pinpoint the exact moment Nat sees her underwear - a black thong that leaves little to the imagination.
Her breath hitches, and the first thought Nat has is holy shit. The second thought is how the hell does she play sports in that? Either Lottie is a straight up psycho, or that has to be the most comfortable pair of lingerie ever invented.
“You just gonna stare?” Lottie teases, her lips slightly bruised, and her voice laced with scandalous intent.
They drink each other in. Natalie revels in the sight of the brunette kissing down her chest, toying with her breasts in a painfully meticulous manner. Her eyes also dart back to the thong. The thong is lacy and hugs her hips perfectly. She wants to rip them - purely in an animalistic fashion with her hands or her teeth. Worse, she definitely wants to feel what's underneath them.
When Lottie rolls a nipple between her fingers, she smirks as she hears Natalie gulp and try to play it off by clearing her throat. The taller girl then dips her fingers just below the waistband of Natalie’s shorts, making sure the ache would be tantalizing. Natalie bites down on her own lip to keep from faltering. Sure, she was worked up and turned the fuck on, but she wasn't going to give Lottie another easy win that easily, especially after that scrimmage from earlier.
Nevertheless, sheer desire prevails, judging by the sound Nat is making, which is something in between a moan and a growl as she tries desperately to figure out what she wants to ask for. She's practically dumbfounded, her desire to be fucked wiping away everything she knows about the English language.
When she doesn’t quite get there, Lottie makes her work for it even more, dancing her index and middle finger just above where Nat wants them to be. Natalie’s ears are then greeted by the most fake, most innocent, polite fucking voice to ever grace her.
“Is everything okay Natalie?”
Is everything okay. Fucking bitch. She knows her buttons are being pressed but God she would let Lottie do it again and again if it felt like this every time. Between the feigned concern and Lottie's blown pupils staring back at her, Natalie feels fucking high. She still can't find any of her words.
“I--” is all she can manage as her hands begin wandering her body. She’s allowed to pull off her sports bra, but as Natalie goes to cup Lottie’s breast, the brunette stops her.
“Tell me what you want.” Her voice is heavy now, lower, stern, not taking silence for an answer. There's a sharper edge to Lottie now, a confidence heavily dipping into cockiness. She's undoubtedly fully aware of the impact she's having on Natalie right now.
Natalie whimpers pitifully and is starting to come undone, her breathing uneven, the throbbing between her thighs begging mercilessly to be relieved.
Almost any other time, it’d be her in the driver's seat, asking other girls to beg for her, coercing submission. It was seldom ever the opposite. It’s not that Nat didn’t like to receive, she just preferred to be the dominant one. Turning other people on turned her on, and it was about control. It's always about control. Her position in soccer is the same. The team doesn't function well without the center midfielder. Midfielders have to know what to do even before they get the ball, have to be five steps ahead, and have to be ready to dip out of pressure.
But right now, as she’s practically writhing underneath this girl, all of that is thrown straight out the window. Begging is surely not beneath her, especially when she feels Lottie slowing her pace and threatening to stop.
“Touch me,” Nat pants desperately. That's a safe, direct answer because she wasn't about to say something corny like "you" and open up the floodgates to more teasing and more questions.
And truthfully that would’ve been enough for Lottie, but Natalie throws in a gasping please just to be safe which more than suffices.
Nat’s breath turns ragged in tandem with Lottie's as their bodies press together, and the car fogs up as a result. Something is playing on Natalie’s Spotify but her heart is pounding so loudly in her ears she can’t hear anything else. It could've been fucking Hannah Montana for all she cared. Dipping into other senses, she couldn't see it before because the fabric was too dark, but now she's surprisingly met by the wetness seeping from Lottie's thong rubbing against her.
She shudders at the contact and at the thought that she's the reason why this girl is turned on right now, and man oh man, Natalie's glad she's not the only one falling apart at the seams.
With some newfound energy, they make out with even more passion. The kisses get sloppier, deeper, the contact more handsy; Lottie pulls off Nat’s shorts and doesn’t even bother with her underwear. Instead, she simply slides them quickly to the side and finally offers Natalie some reprieve.
She rubs slow circles around her clit with two fingers, moaning at the contact and the slickness and testing the waters to see what works and what doesn't.
And Lottie must be some sort of sex master, because almost everything works. Natalie's almost horrified at how little it takes to turn her on right now. She could probably come from just this teasing mixed with Lottie's lips pressed against hers. Definitely out of character and not in the script. Who's writing this shit right now?
Met with a slew of groans, Lottie stops momentarily, much to Natalie’s dismay that quickly dissipates, to bring her fingers into her mouth.
She doesn’t break eye contact as she licks her index and middle finger.
And well, if Natalie wasn’t turned on before, this would most certainly have done it. She’d probably hate this type of confidence, no, cockiness if it were a man was doing this (she can feel herself getting the ick just thinking about it), but there’s just something about the way Lottie exudes her aura that's so...desirable.
"Just wanted a quick taste of you." Lottie's fingers are wet with her own saliva now, and Natalie's probably seconds away from blacking out. "Needy huh," she says cruel and taunting, more matter of fact than as a question.
Obviously she's fucking wet, but all the words that come out of Lottie's mouth feel poetic somehow, and Natalie actually wants to answer. She always did enjoy dirty talk when done correctly.
Her past boyfriends never did this type of thing, never relished in the way she tasted. Most of them never wanted to taste her to begin with, instead they did it as more a chore, a checkbox to complete, a trade. She was almost never allowed to enjoy this type of thing, never had the privilege of feeling this distinct pleasure.
Here, right now, Lottie isn't even between her legs, but she's already done way more than any boy. Even just teasingly tasting her, the way she reacts is so hot, licking and reveling in such an unhurried manner.
Everything she says seems to be dripping with seduction, and now Natalie’s almost too busy being entranced in the rush of feelings to function. She does eventually manage a decent reply. “Are you always this much of a tease?”
Lottie huffs out a laugh and decides to be nice, finally sliding her two fingers inside and hitting all the right places.
After that, neither of them say very much. It’s a mix of exploration, nervous movement, hasty kissing, teeth, tongue, and sheer desire. What is first tentative becomes confident, deliberate, and intense. Lottie doesn't have to ask for much, as she seemingly reads Natalie's movements and responses well. The pleasure bleeds in with lust and both are beyond cathartic.
Lottie fucks her fast and hard at first, which is just how she likes it.
Natalie's powerless, her eyes are closed for most of the time, but the one instance she does have her eyes open she sees Lottie studying her as her thumb teased her clit. She picks up her speed after watching Natalie react, committing all of these things to memory. Her eyes are ablaze with fire, and she keeps pushing and pushing and pushing just to see how far Natalie will go before she breaks.
And maybe Natalie wants to break.
There's three fingers inside now, slick and pounding relentlessly in rhythmic fashion. Everything feels heightened, nearly overwhelming to the point where it's becoming impossible to keep going. The sex is electric. Every moment makes her entire body jolt. The blonde is moments away from surrendering fully, barely able to put up a fight.
Natalie feels her body betraying her mind. She wants to hold on, wants this to last a little longer, but she's wound up so tightly and embarrassingly dripping. Lottie does her in when she whispers a tender “let go,” in Natalie’s ear as she curls her fingers perfectly and feels the clenching around her fingers because of it.
Unsurprisingly, Natalie shatters quickly, loudly, as in probably the loudest she's ever moaned, and Lottie works her through it, slowly letting her ride out her orgasm as she comes with a cry.
Thank God they're in a dark, desolate parking lot - Natalie never thought she'd say that in her life - because her cry climbs decibels.
When Natalie finally catches her breath again, Lottie carefully removes her fingers. They’re glistening, covered in Natalie, and the blonde just about goes into cardiac arrest when one - Lottie brings those fingers to Natalie’s mouth and traces her lips with its entirety - then two - when she leans in to run her tongue over Nat’s lips to clean it up - and three - when her tongue parts Natalie's mouth open and finds her tongue, and Natalie can taste herself all over Lottie.
The brunette cleans her fingers completely, sliding her tongue all over and devouring every last drop of Natalie like she's the dessert at the end of a five-course meal, releasing her digits out of her mouth eventually with a pop.
They collapse in the back seat together, riled up and sweatier and exhausted. It’s the first time all night Lottie finally looks fatigued.
“So,” there’s an exhaled laugh and a pause as a bead of sweat drips down her forearm.
Natalie braces herself. God, she really wasn't trying to do this. She should've known better. For every five people she fucked with no regard, there was always at least one that caught feelings almost immediately. What a shame, really, she starts to think. Her mind was already coming up with numerous escape plans.
“Can I call you Nat now?” Lottie teases, casually handing Natalie her clothes like she didn’t just rock her entire shit.
What?
It's not a feelings conversation. There's no "what are we?"
Natalie is still coming down from seeing stars but manages to start putting her clothes back on. A joke. This girl was inside her not too long ago, made her eye some constellations, and is now cracking a smart ass joke. She can't be real.
“Is that the criteria for you too? Fucking your friends before they have permission to call you Lottie?” Natalie's proud of that one, seemingly restored back to her usual, broody, bitchy self.
“You sound jealous,” Lottie flirts, handling the sass with ease as she pulls Nat back in for another kiss and completely ignoring her question. The kiss is tender and slow, much different than their recent flurry, catching Natalie completely off guard.
“Relax,” she soothes, her breath tickling Nat’s lips. “You can call me whatever you want.”
Natalie knows that whatever this is is unserious because she doesn't do this, doesn't do relationships or crushes, and she most definitely doesn't do love, but the fact of the matter is the person in front of her is so damn charming it’s hard not to feel some type of way.
Her mind races, and suddenly she starts thinking about all the people who’ve seen Lottie this way, who’ve gotten to come undone underneath her like Natalie just did, and Jesus. Maybe she truly is jealous. The burning in Natalie’s body feels like actual hell, and what truly feels pathetic is the realization that she has absolutely no reason to be jealous.
Way too much to think about for a Friday evening, Natalie decides. It's just sex. She repeats this familiar mantra harshly to herself.
She does manage to roll her eyes (her specialty). “I bet you say that to everyone you hook up with.”
“Only the really pretty blonde girls who taste good and can’t seem to score,” Lottie winks and Natalie almost drops dead again right then and there.
“Bite me Lottie,” Nat says, but there’s no real intent behind it as she finishes dressing herself. “Now can you show me where you actually live or is this the part where you murder me all cold blooded and throw me into a ditch?”
Lottie's eyes light up at the way Natalie says her name, but the blonde doesn't catch it.
“Dealer's choice,” Lottie laughs.
“Oh you little freak,” Nat immediately quips.
Lottie playfully shrugs. “I have range.” She lets the air settle between them before reaching to punch her actual address into Nat’s phone so it’ll pop up in her car for navigation. She dresses herself, and both of them get situated back in the front seats.
“You can get on the aux too if you want,” Nat offers after they get back on the road towards civilization.
Lottie narrows her eyes and hums. “You don’t seem like the type of girl to offer that.”
She’s right, intuitively somehow, and it catches Natalie off guard. Music was an integral part of her life. She loved it. She’d spend hours on Spotify, digging for hidden gems and curating playlists. Most were sheer feminine rage, though there was definitely a playlist for crying too (don’t tell her team).
But, the midfielder supposes, the least she can do is let the person who just gave her one of the best orgasms she’s ever had in her life play a song or two. Perhaps it's the least she deserves.
“Maybe what you choose will help me decide whether I decide to see you again or not,” Nat says, as she gets onto the highway.
“Ouch,” Lottie softly replies, connecting her phone to Natalie’s Spotify jam and queuing up some music. A Taylor Swift song immediately plays, and Nat can’t hide the disgust on her face.
Lottie nearly snorts laughing, clearly satisfied with herself as she lets the chorus play out. “That one was a joke, I promise,” she says before skipping to a more tolerable song, something by Elliott Smith which gets no complaints.
Natalie drives, quietly humming the chorus as she ponders how different this feels.
Post-sex with strangers was never this compassionate. It wasn't supposed to be. It's never supposed to be. They haven’t even known each other for more than a few hours, and yet Lottie is playing one of her favorite artists by happenstance, and Natalie suddenly has this weird new urge to put her hand on Lottie’s thigh as she's driving.
She doesn’t, of course, but she’d spend the rest of the night thinking about that feeling pitting in her stomach.
Eventually the group chat pops up on the screen of Natalie’s car. It’s Jackie, of course, telling everyone that her and Shauna have bought a bunch of different liquors. Lottie’s eyes scan quicker than the average person.
“Wow, you didn’t even save my number yet?” She pretends to be offended, tossing in a fake gasp.
“I still might not,” Nat teases, feeling much more in her element now.
There was just something about Lottie that was already defrosting Natalie’s cold exterior. Maybe it was her simplicity - she hadn’t said a whole lot really, but when she did, it was succinct, efficient.
Lottie didn’t push her. Didn’t ask her what they were, didn’t make it weird or awkward after, didn’t turn into some emotional wreck after sex. Lottie seemed sure of herself, her desires, her needs. It was clean, easy, simple. What they did felt good. That's it. Why bother making it anymore than what it is? Okay, maybe it wasn't just sex. Maybe it was really, really good sex.
They settle into a comfortable silence for the rest of the way. Comfort silence. Two words that Natalie hasn't experienced in a long, long time. Why now? Why did they fit like this?
Natalie throws around the word "serendipitous" in her brain for half a second. Surely, this is the closest thing she's ever experienced to that. Hot, athletic girl with good music taste who isn't overbearing. Has to be serendipity if she's ever seen it.
Trying to stay unbothered by the thoughts flooding into her brain, Natalie keeps her eyes pretty much on the road in front of her. Sometimes she can feel Lottie looking at her, and that makes her body burn more. Something about Lottie's body language also softened.
After a while, they finally pull up to maybe one of the nicest houses Natalie has seen in a second. “Shit, you live here? You a princess or something?”
“My parents were absent for most of my life and make up for it monetarily,” Lottie vaguely explains with a sigh and a bitter tone before grabbing her things. It's the only way they know how to parent really."
Now, maybe Natalie is a little intrigued. Lottie almost sounds melancholic when she says it, but she doesn’t press any further because she’s not trying to insert feelings and trauma bond. Getting attached is for clowns, and this was not her circus. Instead, she simply files away that information, neatly into what she hopes would be a corner in her brain she'd never have to access again.
Lottie opens the car door and steps out with her bag. She lingers for a moment, and it’s the first time Natalie can feel her hesitancy.
So maybe she was human after all.
“Do you…wanna come inside?” The question is shaky, hinted with nervousness, but she recovers well just like she does in soccer and finishes with “Maybe wash off the smell of loser?”
And Natalie has to actually cackle at that because damn, the nerve of this girl.
Fuck you is obviously her answer, with a heavy emphasis on the -CK as she clicks her teeth.
“Oh Natty,” Lottie intentionally deviates from the previously allowed nickname and suddenly Natalie can feel her entire body aching for this girl again for like the third time tonight, “don’t tempt me with another good time.”
She’d been called that once or twice in high school by her best friend when they won the state championship (natty with the natty) and kinda maybe sort of fling undefined Kevyn Tan (freaking idiot called her natty with the fatty as he tried to slap her butt once), and she hated the way it sounded when he said it.
But now? Why was it top 3 on the list of things she wanted to hear coming out of Lottie’s mouth?
Speaking of Lottie’s mouth, Natalie has to stop herself from wondering what Lottie would look like beneath her, in between her legs gripping at her thighs, and what it would feel like to have her unravel, and —
Nat’s phone rings, obliterating the opportunity.
Shit, it’s Jackie.
The easiest thing to do would be to simply decline it, but she was already late, and knowing Jackie, if her teammates didn’t answer within three rings she’d probably send a search party, and Natalie was not in the mood to have guard dog Shauna Shipman come after her for no good reason.
Natalie brings the phone up to her ear and can’t even get a hello out before Jackie goes off on the other side. “Where are you?”
What happened to hi, how are you? My name is?
“Uh," Natalie stammers, avoiding eye contact with Lottie. "I had to run a quick errand. I’ll be there soon.”
Why didn’t she just tell the truth? The fuck.
Natalie narrowly misses the sly smile Lottie cracks.
She hears Taissa and Van in the background. “Could you pick up some pizza? We'll order!”
“Sure, just text me the address.” Natalie manages. “See you guys in a bit.”
Her eyes meet Lottie’s as she sighs, hanging up her phone and essentially conceding to her teammates wishes.
She’d much rather go inside and shower, or see how big Lottie’s bed is, and how Lottie would look pressed into it, but that’d have to wait for another time. If there even is another time. The hunger in her can't be satiated, and that feels different. She wants there to be another time.
“Offer still stands you know,” Lottie says, but she’s confidently turning to walk away like she already knows Natalie won’t be following her.
“Wait,” the blonde pulls her shoulder and turns her around.
“Are you gonna come?”
Lottie giggles, and it's a laugh that Natalie hadn't yet heard from her, one with all teeth. It's light and bubbly and so flirty. “I mean, I’d like to but you seem busy…”
And God it takes Natalie a second to process. It’s definitely a middle school level joke but it still works and the blonde feels her body shuddering in response — “but I guess I can go so you don’t miss me too much.”
“Don’t flatter yourself that much princess,” Natalie weakly replies. “I won’t miss you.” Usually, this would come out with a bit more fire power. But right now? Natalie was basically defenseless and trying desperately not to turn into putty.
“I can just meet you there so you don’t have to worry about taking me,” Lottie casually says, moving to unlock her front door.
Natalie looks at her confused, since it’d probably just be easier for both of them together at this point, but her questioning look gets answered immediately.
“I gotta take care of myself first,” Lottie winks again, leaning in one more time without warning to press a firm kiss to Natalie's jaw. She almost laughs again when she feels the immediate goosebumps.
“Good luck with that,” she whispers against Natalie's ear, referring to the very obvious hickey turning purple on her pulse point.
It’s not like this was the first time either of them had or gave a hickey. They weren't in fucking middle school, for God's sake they were grown and in college. So it had to be intentional. Lottie wanted people to see, wanted Nat to scramble and explain herself. It felt possessive, and quite frankly, kind of hot. Natalie also has to laugh at the irony of it all, because well, she did get what she asked for earlier. Lottie did indeed bite her. In multiple areas. Numerous times. Hard.
Jesus, Natalie mumbles, getting back into her car and immediately lighting a cigarette as she watches Lottie disappear inside her house. She rolls her window down and turns her music up.
The pizzas get secured into the backseat, and throughout the entire drive, even with the lingering cigarette smoke and two boxes of food in her car, all she can smell is Lottie - her mischief, remnants of her perfume, the musk of her skin, and her sweat. She thinks about what Lottie must be doing right now, maybe touching herself in her shower as she not so discretely implied. She wonders how she sounds when she really moans, and if she's thinking about her when she comes.
It’s almost too much. Beyond the physique, the real cherry on top is Lottie's personality. She's funny, competitive, smooth, and worst, she's hard not to think about. Natalie takes her time when she pulls up Tai’s house, reaching for one more cigarette. She usually tried to limit herself to just one per day, but fuck it. She needed something, anything to clear her mind.
Lighting up again, Natalie takes a deep drag. It goes down the wrong way for the first time in a long time. A rare coughing fit ensues, and Natalie just knows that it’s going to be a long night.
She's definitely going to need another cigarette, and at this rate, she might need another pack.