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When he leaves, she looks around, as though expecting surveillance. She looks a little nervous.
She totally spots me in the stands.
Our eyes meet, and she opens her hand to wave at me. I raise my hand too, swallowing nervously, though I am not sure why. Then she turns back toward the field and resumes her attention on the players.
What did I just see?
When the coach jogs back the other way, he finds a reason to pause behind her again and actually lays a protective hand on the small of her back.
Well now. That is a thing. That just happened.
I can’t help but smirk. Looks like I am watching a romance in progress. Old people! How darling.
But when the guys—my guys—come out onto the field, everything changes.
By the looks of it, everybody was waiting for them. When they arrive, people seem to get serious. They take their positions, and orders begin to be shouted out. Things are happening now.
Even without appreciating the game itself, I can definitely appreciate watching male bodies crashing into each other. Holy shit, how come nobody ever told me this was so sexy?
They keep running around in different formations, and eventually I find myself hoping that there’s going to be a tackle. I just love the way one guy will be running like crazy, and then another guy will catch up to him and they will throw themselves at each other. Ho-lee shit.
When their bodies collide, they tumble to the grass, sometimes for another five or six yards. They howl and groan with the exertion. They scramble for the ball.
Goodness me, I believe I’m getting a little bit overheated.
Soon I’m on the edge of my seat, trying to drink it all in. I am far enough away that it’s difficult to tell who is who. But the mass of limbs and all of these bodies running around at once unlocks something new about the collaborative work that I want to do.
It’s not just the pileup, like we were saying. It’s the collision itself. Not just bodies in a pile, but the squirming, writhing, struggling forms that pulse and twist around each other.
Okay, yeah, definitely getting overheated.
When it is all over, I am practically jelly. I have to hold my thighs together to keep from touching myself because Ireallywant to touch myself. Thankfully, nobody is near me.
When the guys return to me, they look instantly concerned.
“Are you okay? Was it too boring?” Zeke asks sympathetically.
“Oh my God, no,” I pant desperately. “It was… unbelievable.”
“I think I was a little bit off my rhythm,” Spencer shrugs.
“No, shut up,” I cut him off immediately. “I mean it was…so fucking sexy.”
I stand up, my legs shaking. They watch me with eager, curious eyes.
I know what I want to do. I walk right up to Zeke and jump up, wrapping my legs around him so that he can feel the heat and wetness of my throbbing pussy.
I can’t even call it a kiss. It is too intense. I just need his mouth on my mouth. I need to feel his hands on my hips. I need to feel his hips underneath my crotch.
“You guys gotta take me back to the suite, now,” I tell him, my voice a desperate groan.
“Are you sure?” Zeke asks, his lips still wet from my kiss.
“The stakes are as high as they can get,” I tell him, and kiss him even harder as he hurries me out of the stadium.
Chapter 19
SPENCER
