Lance Tucker x Curvy WoC
Warnings: Fluff, language like subtle hints of SMUT but nothing to crazy kids
A/N: I’m just trying to clean my system of this asshole, don’t mind me…
The room reverberates as the crack of thunder hits above the hotel. You’re frozen in your bed, comforter pulled to your chin as lightning flashes against your pulled curtains, the stiff material doing nothing to dispel the chaos that is happening between the thin layer of glass. Can’t help dispel the anxious way your chest heaves up and down, the way your tank top sticks to your sweat drenched skin and you try to close your eyes, willing the scenario away from your mind. But another clap of thunder has you snapping your eyes open and you whimper lower into your bed.
You hated thunderstorms like this.
Your grandparents who had a home in North Carolina loved storms like this. Wasn’t bothered by it. So, that night when a hurricane had blown in, it had taken them off guard. It was a wonder that your grandfather was able to get you and your grandmother to safety, but he had lost his life in the process. Nights like this drew you back to your six year old self and you jump at another flash of thunder, before you’re giving into your anxiety and pull your phone from the nightstand.
You knew he’d be up. It was only 11 – he was always up this late.
Are you up?
You knew it’d throw him off. You never texted him outside the context of work. When you were hired to help coach the girl’s Olympic team, you and Lance had naturally butt heads. He thought he knew what was best for his winning team and you assured him that he didn’t, that there was more that could be learned. You would know, you were a former gold and silver winner like him and that was probably what irked him as much.
You were on his level.
Over time though, annoyance became respect. Lance realized that you did a lot more with the girls than he was capable of, connecting with them on different levels that translated in the gym. Though you barely were in the gym as much as your former self was, it helped when you were able to jump on a beam or the bars to show a technique. You’re muscles had memorized techniques, form, even if the weight of your body’s curve betrayed you and made you regret the suppleness of your ass and breast as a 29 year old. Barely 30 and anytime you were done after a day’s technique, you felt like you body was going on 50 after you finished a demonstration, needing to ice and soak every part of you.
Lance respected that you still got up there and could do it with ease though. Was impressed on the way you were still able to call control to your body and show the mental and physical discipline that is gained if your mind is in the right place. Lecturing them that boys were nice, sure, but the wrong boy could have you in the wrong state of mind when you were twisting your body off a vault. That going to ballet was a bummer after spending hours in the gym but it strengthened your calves, helped you meditate in a different way. He would also echo his agreement, his eyes lingering a little too long on your ass or chest when you finished a move. You ignored the way that made you feel, you had no room for a Lance Tucker.
Except tonight, as you look down at your cell phone. Two minutes had gone by and he hadn’t responded which mean he hadn’t taken Kyle’s offer to go out for a drink. That he was in bed – hopefully his own. Another boom of thunder and you throw the covers off of you. Fuck this. You weren’t going to be stuck in this room all night, unable to sleep when you both had a long day ahead of you. You find your room key, take a deep breath and lunge out of your bed after a rumble of thunder, counting slowly down to yourself as you scamper out into the hallway. If he wasn’t going to wake up and give you the comfort you needed you were going to force it on him.
There’s something loud banging on his door, drawing him out of his subconscious. He’s suddenly aware of the coolness in his room, the way something bright flashes occasionally throughout the small space and the buzzing of his phone. He groans, blindly looking for the metal contraption that’s annoying him first, rubbing his eyes as he croaks out an answer,
“Open your goddamn door!”
Your voice is different. It’s not commanding, confident or elegant. It’s the opposite – needy on the verge of fear and it’s enough that has him stumbling out of his bed, clicking on a light as he makes his way to the door.
The pounding has stopped now and by the time he cracks open the heavy wood, you’re pushing past him with lightning speed. You’re just wearing a tank top that pushes up your ample bosom and shorts that might as well be illegal as they grip your ass in the best kind of way, causing him to bite his lip as he tries to look away. You throw your phone and room key on his night stand, push your phone into his charger, before your wrapping yourself in his comforter. He furrows his eyebrows together as he closes the door, looking at you with skeptically curiosity as another boom of lightening hits and you jump nearly off the bed, fear laced in your eyes.
“…you’re afraid of thunderstorms?” he doesn’t mean for his voice to be cynical, he’s genuinely curious and you snap a look at him, one he’s seen enough times. The one that makes him want to go hide in a corner while simultaneously bending you over his knee in punishment.
You give a deep sigh, pinching your nose as he walks over to the window, taking a peek outside and whistling under his breath.
“It’s coming down. But makes sense for Florida – it’s trying to wash away all the crazy shit that happens in this state away.”
He looks back at you as you watch him with wide eyes.
“Don’t be so close to the window. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Your voice is meek but genuine and he gives a deep sigh, shaking his head as he closes the curtain, turning to walk toward you.
“You know I was charging my phone. Now it’s going to die.”
“I’ll make sure to keep it at full charge tomorrow. Besides anyone important who needs to talk to you can also connect with you through me. The skanks in your life are just going to have wait a day.”
Despite the sassiness in the comment you’re frozen, he can see the way your body shakes while you hold yourself. He places his phone next to yours before he grabs the sides of your body, pushing you over a bit. You’re soft and hard in the way he’s always imagined and he prays the small erection that always makes an appearance whenever he’s this close to you isn’t apparent as he gets into bed. He pulls the comforter a bit, enough so you have to share and another bout of thunder hits that has you practically jumping into his arms. He chuckles as he wraps them around you, drawing you close as you rest your head on his chest.
“I’m sorry this is unprofessional. But I was stuck for two days in a hurricane that started like this and…..it brings out the worse fear in me. I know it’s unfounded and unrealistic but I can’t afford not to sleep. And Kyle’s a fucking pervert, no way I’m trying to bunk with him. Tracey would keep me up all night talking my ear off about that one time you banged her in her office and the girls would wake me up constantly, asking if you and I were a thing. I just wanted to be with someone who I felt safe with and that I trust….”
You’re shaking and he nods, placing his head on top of yours. He knew your story – it had ben plastered all over the news the years you had gone to the Olympics. Your grandfather had gotten killed in that hurricane that ripped through the east coast. A few years later, your grandmother had passed away and the orphan in you had found a way to overcome, to practice and train and work and go to school to be an American Olympian. He had respected it, respected it more than Hope.
What surprised him was that you trusted him. You talked to him the least, kept him at an arms distance. The fact that you thought to come to him made him feel proud and something else he can’t put his finger on. Tries to push it into the back of his mind even though he knows it’ll linger there for weeks as he rubs your arms up and down as he whispers,
“You don’t have to explain, its ok. I get it. You can stay here as long as you want….”
You fall into his embrace, a sigh of relief hitting his exposed chest.
“Thanks Lance,” another bout of lightening that has you jumping into his lap, arms wrapped reverently around him. When it passes you look at him, large doe eyes that make his cock twitch before you give a sheepish smile. “Probably the night.” You admit and he chuckles as he falls back into his headboard.
“That’s fine with me,” another smile as he grips your hips. “I’d be more than happy to find a way to distract you.”
His moves his hips into your own, his erection moving against your center and you let out a small moan, before you narrow your eyes and shake your head.
“Are you trying to use my fear to seduce me?”
He gives a lazy smile.
“You want to tell me you’ve never thought about you and me? I’ve seen the way you’ve checked me out in the gym….”
You roll your eyes as you shake your head.
“Yea Lance you’re hot. And sure, I’d love to ride you like no tomorrow,” the honesty of the words take him off guards as his eyebrows raise. “But we work together and honestly, I’m not just trying to find some guy to fuck me. I’m past all of that. If I’m riding you like the stallion you are, it’s because you’re more than a good lay.”
Even though you say the words, he sees the way you bite your lip, the way your eyes scan down his chest before your pushing off of him.
“I’m going to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”
“Fine. But just for the record, I wouldn’t just consider you a good lay. I actually like you. You think I’d let Tracey in my room if she was pounding at my door this late at night. I’d send her over to pervy Kyle.”
You giggle as you lay on your side, shaking your head and he takes the opportunity to wrap himself behind you, drawing your backside to his erection that causes you both to groan.
“Let’s at least cuddle. My fee for disrupting my good sleep. Although, you’re going to have to deal with the consequence of my erection from coming in looking as hot as you do…”
“….unbelievable….” you mutter, but your hand already falls over his arms, snuggling back into him.
Neither admit that it’s the best sleep you’ve gotten in months, even if you both wake up with the worst case of blue balls. Even if you can’t help the lingering way Lance pulls away when you hug him thanks in the morning, or the way his eyes fall on you even more openly throughout the rest of the meet.
Even if you do give in a little bit when he asks you out to dinner, the moment you both land back in California. Even if you say yes with a big grin on your face.