My heart’s thundering like a herd of wild horses. I’d will myself to calm down, but we’re way past that. We technically passed that when I entertained the thought of removing the last layers keeping me from his bare skin. More accurately, we passed that when I came up with the bright idea of strip lacrosse. Oh, I knew a couple of nutty matches had been played back in OKC on the field, under the floodlights when people thought no one would find out (we all ultimately found out). Some of the girls on the team and their men’s lacrosse boyfriends would sneak off and go shot for shot before making out under the bleachers. It was real high-school of them. Never for me, not until now.
‘What do you think?’ I scan the field for a spot, although I’m still peering at Rod out of the corner of my vision. Like,how could I not? He’s New England Adonis. His defined pecs and abs and obliques practically sparkle under moonlight. The V that disappears into the band of his boxer briefs could probably cut you if you weren’t careful. His legs are the whipped cream and the cherry on top. He clearly did not skip leg day. He’s got watermelon-crushing quads.
‘What do I think?’ Rod echoes with that deep, rumbly voice of his. His ultra-expressive eyes devouring me in an awe-filled gaze doesn’t help matters. Considering that, personally, I think he should just decide to forfeit now and rip the rest of the clothes off my body, but I’m not about to say that upfront.
‘Is it worth the danger?’
I point to a spot all the way back down the field. Way down. Far enough that most players would back down right away and call it quits. Hell, I’m not sure I’d be able to make it from there.
He takes the ball from my hand, his calloused fingers lingering against my skin. Close enough to me that my chest brushes his. ‘You mean, is taking this crazy shot worth it so I can fuck you till we’re both seeing stars?’
His thumb runs over my knuckles, hand moving to my bare waist, down to my hip. His fingers wander till they sit just above the band of my Nike Pros. I feel the rise and fall of my chest quicken impatiently. My breathing, for the record, isn’t the only thing cuing me into the fact that it absolutely is worth Rod taking this shot.Hurry up and make the goal, then.
I deliberately go against nature when I pull away from him with another dramatic gesture towards the magical x-marks-the-spot he’ll take the attempt on goal from. ‘Get this one,’ I quip, the very bold words forming on my lips, ‘and you can find out.’
He sets up, the ball cradled in the head of his stick. The guy’s absolutely locked in, and yet still majestic, for lack of a better word. Tousled hair fluttering in the breeze, gaze shaded by long eyelashes, lips drawn into the slightest frown of concentration. His eyes narrow. He draws back, and with the most wicked follow-through I’ve ever seen, nearly every toned muscle of his body on full display as he puts everything he’s got into this shot, he sends it straight down the middle. I hold my breath.
The ball blasts right into the net.
Rod’s stick is in the grass, and he’s kissing me without missing a beat. His hands find my butt, and like it’s no big thing, he lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around him. He manages to get us to the back door, tugs it open, and it’s hot chaos. We tear whatever we’re still wearing off one another.
We’re lucky we even make it to the bedroom. I’m practically aching to have him inside me as he leaves no spot on my body unclaimed. He takes his sweet time laying a trail of kisses down the side of my neck, making his way down to my breasts, then to my stomach. At which point he utters my new favourite words.
‘Where do you want me?’
My entire body sings. The question is oh-so-appreciable, but I take his face in my hands, lock my eyes with his starving ones, and I say, ‘Winner’s choice. Just don’t youdarego easy on me, hotshot.’
He delivers. I feel like I’m among the clouds when he touches me, and I’ll have you know, words truly cannot encapsulate the orgasm. Seeing stars isn’t enough. We’re speechless, both of us. Except the beautiful suggestion Rod makes as we lie beside one another, catching our ragged breath.
‘One more?’
Chapter Fifteen
Loosen the Reins
Jordan
‘Oh, this issomuch better.’
Hands on hips, Rebecca and I take a step back to admire our handiwork. Her old shed is now painted a baby-blue with white trim – way more put together, much more fitting for her beautiful garden.
‘Told ya you just needed another pair of hands,’ I insist with a smile, adjusting the strap on my Carhartt overalls.
‘You were right,’ she admits. ‘It looks perfect, Jordan.’
Rebecca’s definitely done enough for me in the span of two weeks, so helping her with the garden project she’d been putting off for years was the least I could have done. The glimmer
in her eyes when she looks at the fresh paint job is totally
worth it.
‘Every girl needs a she-shed.’ I crouch down to close the paintcans and set the brushes aside. ‘And now, you got a she-shed that doesn’t look like it’s seen multiple world wars.’
‘You say you learned all this on a ranch?’ says Rebecca in disbelief, wiping her hands on her jeans.
‘You’d be surprised what needs upkeep, all the time!’ I point out. ‘Always something fuckin’ breaking.’
I think Rebecca’s going to explode with happiness as she pulls out her phone for a photo of our magnum opus. In her driveway, a puttering tugs my attention away a little too quickly. Okay, so people love to drop by Rebecca’s just because. I get it – small-town behaviour. But part of me jumps just because I’d possibly love it if it were someone particular coming to bother Rebecca. Maybe? I mean, you can’t fault me after I played strip lacrosse with the man. That, and the multiple rounds of wild sex that followed. A wave of excitement – anticipation – fills my chest.
