play it safe.
When Wednesday night came around, I headed to the gym with the assumption she would show up with Charlie and Matt. I practiced a few shots on the court with the guys, one eye on the doorway, and when she walked in, I passed the ball and walked to the benches to meet her.
She was in her little shorts and top, a sexy, fit chick. When she wasn’t in her sky-high heels, she was so small and petite, and she seemed to be more ferocious to make up for it. She set down her water bottle along with a towel then turned to me.
I looked into her face, feeling a rush of joy because this felt right. Those two strippers in my bed on the night of my birthday…did not feel right.
Then she smiled at me, the kind of smile that lit her eyes with radiant light.
I lived for that smile.
“You’re going to take off your shirt for this game, right?”
Now, I smiled. “Gonna check me out, sweetheart?”
“It’s literally the only reason I come every week.” She moved into me, and like she’d done it a hundred times, rested one palm against my chest and rose on her tiptoes to give me a kiss.
I kept my hands on my hips and didn’t grab her the way I wanted. I kept everything contained, restrained myself from kissing her the way I’d demolished her lips in that bar, the way I’d shown her ex what he was missing, not for Carson’s sake, but because of my own possessiveness.
She pulled away then walked onto the court.
I gave her ass a playful smack.
She turned around and walked backward, waggling her eyebrows jokingly before she faced forward again and approached the guys. “Who’s ready to kick some ass?”
I watched her go, seeing that fine piece of ass shake.
Charlie came to my side. “I’m happy for you, man.”
I turned to him and shook his hand. “Thanks.”
“And she’s happy too.” He nodded in her direction, her hands on her hips.
“That’s what I want to hear.”
“Just be patient with her. She didn’t say much, but I know that whole thing with Evan really bothered her.”
I hadn’t actually considered it because I’d been thinking about myself, about getting the woman I wanted.
“I don’t think she’s sad that he’s moved on, by any means. But…it’s pretty cold that he is already remarried when it’s been a relatively short amount of time. Just the fact that she never really meant anything to him…is a tough pill to swallow.”
My eyes shifted back to her on the court, watching her play with the guys with a focused look on her face, treating the sport competitively like it was being televised. “Yeah…”
“Just giving you a heads-up about the whole thing. I really want this to work.”
I gave a slight smile but didn’t feel it this time. “I can tell.”
He clapped me on the back then headed onto the court. “Good luck out there…even though we’re gonna kick your ass.”
Carson was playful on the court. Whenever she was blocking me, she would find any excuse to touch me, to run her palms down my sweaty chest instead of trying to steal the ball. When she came at me from behind, her hand felt my ass in my shorts. The woman was practically groping me.
I got the ball across the court to a teammate then grabbed her by the hips so she wouldn’t run off. I pulled her into me and kissed her while the game continued, tasting her sweat and my own, my hands moving to her ass in her shorts and giving her a good squeeze. When I pulled away, she was a bit paralyzed, so I took off, got the ball, and made a shot without being covered.
She gave me an impish glare then rejoined the game.
After the match was over, when my team won, we headed to the bleachers to cool off and get some water.
She sat beside Charlie, her legs crossed, the towel on her head. “My ass is so sore I can barely sit.”
“Want me to massage it for you?” I teased.
“No.” She gave me a lighthearted smack. “Well…maybe later.”
Charlie cringed before he took a drink from his bottle. “TMI.”
“You want to talk about TMI?” she countered. “What about—”
“Do not go there.” He silenced her with a look.
“Dirty secret, huh?” I asked.
“He’s got a few of them, actually,” Carson said. “Let’s just say he has sex really loud sometimes…”
He rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t…”
“Not with a fifty-year-old,”