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Kate
I felt my pulse quicken as I watched Sean sprint down the field to catch a long pass from Matt Murphy. They were such a perfectly-matched pair; Matt Murphy with the golden arm that could throw the ball with speed and pinpoint precision, and Sean who could leave the guy covering him in the dust and hit the mark so perfectly that the ball practically fell into his arms.
I’d never been to a New York Kings’ practice session before. I had never been assigned to cover the Kings and now that the entire SIO staff was barred from the stadium, I’d probably never get the chance to do so.
I had no idea what I’d been missing…
Watching the players practice without jerseys and pads, I imagined that it must have been a little bit like watching gladiators in the Roman arena; large, muscled, sweaty men of all shapes, sizes, and colors; in tiny shorts, pushing and shoving and running and tackling one another.
It was also a little bit like foreplay.
As I watched Sean on the field, I felt my nipples plump and a growing moisture between my legs. I smiled to myself because I’d had the foresight to wear a thick bra and a panty-shield to manage the effect Sean Donovan seemed to have on me.
I was a little sad to see practice end. Sean trotted over to the fence and gave me a big smile. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His muscled torso was brown from the sun, and glistening with sweat.
I came down the bleachers to meet him at the fence. He looked even better up close. My eyes followed a trail of sweat as it sluiced down from his neck, through the crease between his thick chest, across his chiseled abs, and into the waistband of his shorts. I could almost taste his salty sweat on my tongue.
“Thanks for coming,” he said with a smile. “Give me a few minutes to shower and we’ll go to lunch. I’ll meet you at the back gate in twenty minutes.”
“Sounds great,” I sighed. I heard the dreaminess in my voice, so I quickly cleared my throat and added, “You looked great out there today. Good hands.”
Shit, did that sound like innuendo…
“And you looked great sitting up there,” he said with a wink. He held up his hands and started backpedaling. “Okay, see you in twenty.”
Sean turned and trotted across the field. I watch his ass move in the short-shorts until he disappeared into the clubhouse. I was gathering up my purse when a woman’s voice called out from above me. I looked up to see a gorgeous black woman holding a baby two rows up.
“You Sean’s latest?” she asked in a snide tone.
“What? No, I’m a journalist here to interview him,” I said. I climbed up a row and gave her a smile. I stuck out my hand. “Katie Holmes, from Playboy Magazine.”
She scrunched her nose at my hand and rolled her eyes. “Interview my ass.”
I let my hand drop to my side and gave her a frown. “No, really, look…” My bag was hanging over my shoulder. I dug one of the fake business cards out and held it out to her.
“See, Katie Holmes, Playboy Magazine. I’m a serious journalist.”
She scoffed at the card. “Sure you are, honey. And I’m Oprah Winfrey. Pleased to meet you.”
I tucked the card back into my purse and pushed the dark sunglasses to the top of my head. “Pleased to meet you, too, Oprah. You look amazing in person.”
She smiled at me. I noticed the baby she was holding was suckling her breast, which she had pulled out from under the Kings t-shirt she was wearing.
“That’s a beautiful baby,” I said. “Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” she said, wincing. “That’s why he can’t just suck my nipple. He has to chew on it like a damn mouthpiece.” She stuck out her free hand for me to shake. “Monique Broyles. Soon to be Monique Lewis.”
“Oh, are you marrying someone on the team?” I asked, shaking her hand. I wasn’t just asking to be nice. A story was forming in my mind. Football baby mamas…
“I’m marrying Leon Lewis, number 10” she said, nodding at a very large black man who was looking our way. “This is our third son, Leon Juni
or.”
“Wow, congratulations,” I said.
“Congratulations on having three kids with him or on finally convincing his big ass to marry me?”
I blinked at her. “Uh, congrats on both, I guess?”
