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Shane
“Obviously…”
Tatum purred, looking ten shades of sexy as the afternoon sun cast her in soft, orange shadows that flattered her olive complexion and smooth, ripe curves. The hem of her skirt had been dancing around her knees all afternoon, slithering up and down whenever she leaned this way or that, offering a glimpse of thigh and driving him mad with every new shimmer of soft, girly flesh.
“I mean, Emily’s not gonna read about any of this when your story hits the paper, right?”
Tatum clucked her sharp tongue that way she always did when she thought he’d said something ridiculous. “It’s theStatesman, Shane, not theEnquirer! Besides, my editor’s such a stickler for details, she’d edit all the good parts out the minute she read them, probably.”
“Probably ain’t good enough, Tatum.” He was challenging her. She seemed to sense it, jutting out her chin the way she did whenever she wanted to call his bluff. “I need more than that if we’re going to get … personal.”
Her eyes widened slightly at his response, making him wonder why. “So, what would be good enough, Shane?”
“I tell you a secret,” he teased, never in a million years imagining she’d fall for it. “You tell me one. That way, if you do me dirty, I’ve got the goods on you, too.”
She clucked a tongue, a soft and sultry sound that sent shivers through his big, blue balls. He should have hooked up with that sorority chick his roommate Booger had been telling him about all last weekend. It might have been down and dirty, a one and done for both of them and hardly his style, but at least then Shane wouldn’t be so damned strung out and horny, lusting after this poor reporter as if she were the last girl on earth. “And here I thought you were just some simple country boy, Shane.”
“I may be simple and I sure am country, but my mama didn’t raise no fool.”
Tatum rolled her eyes and chuckled at the same time, that chest of hers heaving and her nipples gently pressing against that sweater.No way she was wearing a bra under there,he thought to himself, trying not to stare.Not a damn chance in hell.
She remained leaning back on the bleacher behind her, like she owned the damn place, peering at Shane with those soft brown eyes as if considering his offer. “Fine,” she agreed at last. She sat up slowly so that every curve of her body shifted beneath the warm, velvet sun. “It’s a deal. Today, we get all the personal stuff out of the way and then tomorrow, it’s right down to business, okay, Shane?”
His heart swelled, and not just because she’d taken the bait. Tomorrow? Had she just offered him a second chance to spend more time with her? He watched as she extended her hand, slower this time than when she’d introduced herself back in the locker room. He inched his hand closer as well, taking hers inside his palm and savoring the warm, soft feel of her flesh upon his own. It had been so long since he’d touched a girl, the sensation was almost too good to let go.
But let go he did, lest she realize how badly he wanted her. How very badly indeed. “You first,” he blurted before she could, the same way he’d always shouted “Shotgun!” whenever he got into a car with his friends back home.
“God, you’re so predictable.”
“What? We just met.”
“Like a high school boy calling dibs on the front seat,” she blurted, making Shane wonder if she could read his mind, after all. Then again, he told himself, if she could, she’d have run off two minutes after they’d met, blushing to beat the devil, and calling him every variation of “pervert” in the damn thesaurus on her way out of the locker room doors!
“I mean, I am just a freshman,” he teased. He was remembering how sensitive she’d been about her age back in the locker room. “I suppose I’m entitled to a little immaturity now and again.”
“I suppose…” She sighed, the sound so pleasant it made him realize she might be up for a little immaturity herself after all. “I just … there’s not much to confess in my life that could be considered a secret.”
Shane had both hands on the bleacher beside his waist, wriggling to get comfortable as the stadium stretched around them, vast and empty at this hour. He should have gone home hours ago, they both should have, but no one would be back at the stadium until nightfall, when the security guard checked to see if all the lights were off and the doors locked. They still had hours left before then.
Lucky him…
He nudged his chin out in challenge before asking, “Okay then, what’s the first thing about yourself that would make you blush if you told a total stranger?”
“You mean, like you?”
“Sure, yeah. A stranger you just met. Like little old me.”
Tatum shook her head, causing that sexy ponytail to rasp across her broad, almost athletic shoulders. “Dude, I am so not drunk enough for this right now.”
“I’d love to help you, girl, but it’s bad enough we’ve snuck into the stadium after hours. Plus, underage drinking is definitely against Coach’s Code of Ethics.”
“I didn’t sayyouhad to drink,” Tatum snorted. “I’m just not used to talking like this with guys.”
“Didn’t you talk like this with your ex?”
“Hell no!” Tatum confessed. “We barely talked at all.”
Shane sagged, body rife with irrational jealousy as he muttered like a sullen teenager, “Oh.”
