“I had a good run, but I keptgetting embarrassed because of a certain piece of equipment, so I had to quit.”
“I bet,” I say. “I wrestled alittle bit too.”
He smirks. Like he thinks hewouldn’t have any issue taking me.
I toss the football aside andcrouch down, positioning my arms before me.
“I’m not wrestling you, Tad. Ifthis is some kind of game—”
“You afraid I’ll win?”
The amusement in his expressionsuggests he doesn’t think so.
“You scared?” I ask.
I can tell he’s weighing the prosand cons of following through with this. He wants to put me in my place. Just amatter of pride. But he recognizes what idiots we’ll look like getting into awrestling match in the middle of the soccer field. Fortunately, this park isisolated enough that we don’t really have to worry about anyone sneaking up onus. It’s why I selected it for my little rendezvous.
“Just one match, all right?” Isay.
“I don’t think so. But thanks forthe invite.”
I charge him, grab his leg, andpull sharply to knock him to the ground. I’ve caught him off guard, and while Iacknowledge that it might not be the wisest of moves, I know this is the bestway to break his rigid attitude.
“What the fuck?” he mutters as Ipounce on top of him to pin him down.
He rolls onto his stomach andstarts to get up, but I grip around his waist, clasping my hands to secure myhold.
He pivots, kicks his legs outbefore him. Reaching back, he grabs my ankle, then yanks sharply, surprising mewith his strength so that I go flying back onto the ground. He comes at me, andI roll to get back up, but before I have a chance, he jumps on top of me,pinning me down. He’s heavy. Real fucking heavy, and despite my attempt towiggle free, it’s useless. He’s got me.
“Uncle!” I shout.
“Shut the fuck up,” he says as heslides off and kneels beside me.
I roll onto my back and gaze athim. A bead of sweat rushes down his forehead, between his thick eyebrows. Ashe looks at me with beautiful almond eyes, I’m hypnotized. A few more beads ofsweat roll down and slide along his chiseled jawline, to his chin.
My gaze shifts to that scar on hischeek. It should be a defect in his otherwise beautiful face, but instead, itcomplements it.
I want to fuck him right here. Orhave him fuck me. I don’t really give a shit who’s on top as long as we’refucking.
He turns to see his sunglasses afew yards away, which I accidentally demolished when they fell off during ourtussle.
His playful expression shifts tosomething serious.
I’m used to the sort ofdisappointment in his eyes. It’s the way Darren looks every time he finds asuit that’s out of his price range. Or when Debra encounters a check for adinner that would’ve been better if she’d ordered a less pricey meal or fewerglasses of wine.
It reminds me that not everyonehas the luxury of the lifestyle I’m used to.
He turns from the glasses andlooks to me, like he’s trying to figure out if I’ve caught on to what he’supset about.
“That was my bad. I’ll buy you anew pair,” I say.
“It’s fine.”
But it’s so clear that he’s notfine. “Are you really that upset over a stupid pair of Maui Jims?”
“I’m not upset.”
He is, though. “Oh, come on,” Isay, sitting up and leaning toward him so we’re face to face. I keep just a fewinches away so that I can feel the heat he’s giving off. His sweat smellssweet. It stirs a powerful desire within me. I wonder if I’m just really hotfor the idea of the football player and his bodyguard or if this is a naturalchemistry between us. I catch movement in his pants, and I’m pleased knowingI’m not alone in my feelings.
