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“Okay, so, assuming I’ve lost my mind and I want to follow through with this plan of yours. How would I seduce Chris Rose?”
“Oh, it’s simple. I’ve got about twenty options. Here’s the first…”18ChrisI got in my car after the game feeling shitty. We lost, and partly because I’d fucked up in the second half. Normally, my head was clear on the field. It was like turning on some sort of autopilot. I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.
Tonight, though. I couldn’t get out of my own way. My thoughts kept circling back to Belle. I was seeing her just before I took the snap. I was wondering what she was doing while three-hundred-pound linemen tried to tear my head off.
And it had showed. I could already imagine coach ripping into my horrible performance in tomorrow’s meetings. Of course, it all came right after coach reminded me that my results on the field were the only thing keeping me around.
But my mood immediately improved when I got a text from Belle. Apparently, there was a huge spider in her bathroom, and she couldn’t get out of the shower because it had her pinned.
Boner.
I had to re-read the text a few times to make sure my brain, which had just been jostled around for a few hours, wasn’t malfunctioning.
Belle Waters was currently naked in the shower and asking me to hurry to her apartment to kill a spider. Hell. Yes. One of the perks of living in a dicktatorship was that, when called upon, the dicktator had the ability to declare nothing else mattered but his satisfaction. This was one of those moments, and I was happy to hand over the controls, especially if it meant forgetting the slaughter I’d just led my team into.
I pushed my car to the limits getting to her apartment, which mostly meant revving my engine in New York City traffic and then gunning it about ten feet before having to stop again.
I took the stairs three at a time getting up to her apartment, then picked her lock to let myself in. I could hear the water running as soon as I came in.
“Belle?” I called out.
“In here!”
I made my way to the bathroom. I was expecting to find a small spider. Maybe something the size of a dime. I knew how women could be. Any little bug was a cause for meltdown, and they needed the power of a fearless man to resc-
I stopped in my tracks as soon as I saw what was on the floor of her bathroom. It was at least the size of my hand, hairy, and looking straight at me.
“What the fuck is that thing?” I demanded, inching back to the door.
Belle was standing behind the glass door of her shower, which was fogged so thickly all I could see was the outline of her body. It was enough to send blood rushing below my belt, though. It was also enough to help me overcome a little bit of my terror at the sight of the eight-legged beast between us.
Come on, Chris. It’s just a stupid spider. You can handle this. You’re not even scared of spiders.
I walked into the bathroom, gathering my balls. “Do you want me to kill it, or is this a capture and release operation?”
“No!” she shouted suddenly. “Don’t hurt it. Just, I don’t know. Get it out of here very carefully?”
Somehow, I knew she was going to say that. I took a step toward the spider, then it started scrabbling toward me with unnatural speed. I jumped over it, then tried to run toward the shower for safety. I yanked on the door without thinking and stepped in, getting immediately soaked by the hot water.
There was complete silence except for the patter of water against my clothes.
“Okay,” I said, still not turning to look at the fully naked woman beside me. “This is going to sound unlikely, but I didn’t plan to come in here.”
Belle inched backward so she was behind me. “It’s okay, just… Can you please get him?”
I hadn’t expected her to handle this so well, but I did need to be realistic. You can’t just rush into a woman’s shower and power fuck her against the tiles because she didn’t scream when you entered. At least I was pretty sure you shouldn’t do that sort of thing.
All I needed was self-discipline.
I knew self-discipline. I couldn’t even count the times I’d dragged myself out of bed hours before any sane person would be awake to work out. The thousands of hours I’d spent watching game film. The countless repetitions throwing the ball. It took self-control most people probably couldn’t even fathom to do it all day after day.
And yet, I wasn’t sure I had enough willpower to stop my head from turning. To stop my feet from turning. I could practically feel her just inches behind me. I could remember how good it had felt to sink myself into her. Feeling her warm walls around me, gripping me. The sound of her heavy breaths and the brush of air on my neck as I took her on the airplane.
