Like a brat, she comes closer and taunts, “Typical man.”
I’m far from the typical men she’s encountered in the past, I bet, my tastes no doubt darker than any of the boys she’s bedded.
Her attitude is the spark against the flint wheel and my whole-body jerks to attention, every fiber in my being pulsing. Not only do I want to kiss and come all over her, but I want to throw her over my knee and swat her perky ass until she’s a writhing, crying, pouting mess, whining over her shoulder,“M-More, Coach Thane.”
Something tells me Marlow could go toe-to-toe with every lustful directive of mine, obeying it like it’s her life’s purpose. She’d enjoy the hell out of it too, based on the way her brown gaze peruses me like she fucking loves what she sees. The clenching of my jaw. The bulging muscles in my arms. The ink tatted on my skin.
I’m as much of her fantasy as she is mine.
Has Marlow ever watched me on the field, the way I have her, or is today the first time I’ve caught her eye?
“What are you painting?” I turn the table on her, my voice gruff and coated with thick need.
Marlow’s eyes are on my lips and only my lips. Fuck. I resist the urge to reach below and adjust my dick, straining against my seam. Or place a hand over her thigh, slowly trickling it between the juncture so she knows exactly where my mind’s at.
No. Goddammit no. We have company and even if we didn’t, we’re still out in public.
“A pink background with pompoms.”
I lean closer to her and return, “How typical, little cheerleader.”
Her breath catches, my words getting her going. I make a mental note to call herlittle cheerleaderwhen I get my hands on her…because right now, it’s looking inevitable.
Marlow and I are bound to crash into bed, where we’ll have sheet-clawing sex until we’ve purged this sexual tension between us. It’s just a matter of time.
She’s eating me up with her eyes, letting me knowshe will have me.
I’m game.
I’m so fucking game, I feel like I’m coming out of my skin for her.
My gaze strays down the column of her throat. I want to mark her. Right there. Bite her pulse and suck a hickey so every man within a ten-foot radius knows she’s mine. Then I want to suck on those pretty tits. They’re encased in a strapless sundress that messes with my sanity and shows ample cleavage and tan lines. I never thought I’d find tan lines sexy but now I want to lick them. Want to kiss her where the sun hasn’t and get a good taste of that tight pussy.
“You’re right. How predictable of me.” A flirty smile tugs on her lips, but it doesn’t denote the desire pouring off of her in waves. “If you do my design, I’ll do yours. Try something different for a change.”
She’s weaving a trap and I fall for it. I never back down from a challenge. “All right.”
Michaela is still unaware of what’s happening between her friend and me. She’s a third of the way through her design by the time we begin ours.
Marlow paints a blue sky and a green field, adding white markings to it. The little overachiever goes as far as to even paint herself on the field with her pompoms. It’s fucking cute. I’m halfway through painting a sunset background and adding pompoms on mine, which look horrendous in my opinion because I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. However, I’m surprised by how much I enjoy this activity. Not only because of the challenge, but it’s calming and healing to my old inner self who’s never taken the time to slow down and enjoy the simple things in life.
Michaela pulls out her headphones and showcases her finished product. “I’m done.”
It’s got pointe shoes and clouds.
“Super cute,” Marlow pitches in. “I love it.”
“Looks good, Michaela,” I tell her too.
Michaela startles at my compliment—the first in years—and breaks out into a genuine smile. “Thanks, guys. I’m going to head over to the reception and give them mine for glazing and firing.”
“I think we’re almost done with ours too,” Marlow informs her.
Michaela leaves and I try to peek at Marlow’s mug because she’s currently hiding a section from me with a cheeky grin, adding a few paint strokes. “What are you doing?”
“It’s a surprise,” she says. “You can see the final product once we pick it up a week from now.”
“Fine. Keep your secrets.”For now.
