Jenna laughs. “Girl, you’ve got it bad.”
“If you’re talking about lust, then yes, I’ve got it bad.”
Her eyes go wide and she squeals, which, in this crowd, is no big deal. “Oh, my god. You’re sleeping with him.”
“Shh! You don’t have to announce it to the entire section.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” She juts out her bottom lip. “Now you’ll have to give me details to make up for it.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “You wish.”
“I really do.” She hooks her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “I have so many questions.”
I’m saved from responding when we’re asked to stand for the national anthem. After, Waverly wins the coin toss, and they elect to receive the ball.
I lean forward, straining to see better when the offense takes the field, Brady among them. He lines up to the left of the center and when the ball is thrown, he springs into action, lunging forward to attack—is that even the right word?—Michigan’s defense.
Damn. Who knew watching two men wrestle for dominance could be so hot?
Brady may be soft-spoken and gentle in real life, but he’s a beast on the field—and in the bedroom.
Football keeps him busy, but he slept over a few times this week, though technically, there wasn’t much sleep involved. The man is insatiable, and I freaking love it. He might be inexperienced, but he’s a quick study, and he’s willing to learn. He even watched me film a short clip for my channel two nights ago. It helped him get more comfortable with the idea of camming, though he’ll never be a fan.
He’s got too much caveman DNA for that.
If he had his way, he’d probably toss me over his shoulder and never let me leave the bed.
It’s actually kind of nice.
Brady will not be like the men who were in and out of my life growing up. He’ll stick because he’s loyal and patient and just an all-around good person.
Unlike Mike McConnell.
Surrounded by one hundred thousand screaming Wildcat fans, I’d almost forgotten I’m being blackmailed.
Almost.
Mike hasn’t approached me since I paid him and I’m hoping to keep it that way. Five thousand dollars cut my savings in half, but I’ll be okay.
I have to be.
The crowd cheers and I join in, shoving all thoughts of Mike McConnell and blackmail from my mind.
“Did you see that?” Jenna screeches, bouncing on her toes.
“How the one guy grabbed the ball from the other guy?”
“Okay,” Jenna says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “If you’re going to be a WAG—wives and girlfriends—you at least need to learn basic terminology.”
I don’t bother reminding her Brady isn’t going pro or that these lessons won’t benefit me long term. I’m having too much fun, getting caught up in the crowd's energy.
Jenna takes it upon herself to give me a full education and by the fourth quarter, I think I’m starting to get it.
“I told you this was going to be an intense game.” Jenna takes a gulp of the beer she grabbed at halftime. “Maybe a little too intense.”
Waverly is up by three, but it’s been a damn close game and with only three minutes left on the clock, the tension in the stadium is at an all-time high.
The Wildcat offense takes the field and I’m so focused on Brady, I lose track of the ball after it’s snapped.
