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"And why weren't you paying attention to your game?" she retorted, twisting my question back at me.
"Oh, I was focused on the game, as well as on you..." I responded, attempting to defend myself.
"You can't seriously expect me to watch your boring game that I have zero interest in. Besides, I thought I satisfied you by showing up to your football practice. Now, I hope you'll leave me alone after this!" Her words dripped from her lips as if it were all some kind of joke. I sneered, finding her belief that I would end it there laughable.
"Well, I needed your undivided attention, not just some half-hearted focus on some garbage book you call a novel!" I snapped back.
She rolled her eyes and said with frustration, "Just let go of my hair, Dax! It took me hours to style, and you're ruining it!" Her voice had a whiny tone that she always used when complaining.
"I think I prefer your hair like this...!" I retorted playfully, releasing her hair. She sighed, thinking it was all over. Little did she know, it wasn't over until I said it was over. In one swift motion, I ran my hand through her brown curly hair, purposely disrupting her carefully styled perfection.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, finally finding the urge to stand up from the bleachers where she had been sitting. She closed the book she had been reading, adjusted her backpack on her back, and started walking in the opposite direction to avoid me and my tactics.
I signaled my loyal boys, and they quickly responded by rushing in to block Skye's path. She tried to leave, but they pushed her, determined to keep her from escaping. I directed them to bring her to me, while I casually descended the bleachers.
Using my jersey as a makeshift towel, I wiped the sweat from my skin and let it hang around my neck.
My minions brought Skye to me, and I immediately grabbed her shoulder, simply because it was the first thing within reach. As usual, Skye resisted my touch, her sensuality evident. "Where do you think you're going?" I demanded.
"Am I not done watching your football practice? Can't you release me now and let me go to class?" she asked with frustration evident in her voice.
"Nope!" I responded, a mischievous smile playing on my lips.
"What? Why?" she questioned, clearly not understanding my persistence.
"Because I still need you here!" I asserted, keeping my tone light.
"Need me here?" she scoffed, clearly unconvinced by my words.
"Yeah, you heard that right. Now go and sit, and don't even dare to leave..." I challenged, my gaze locked with hers.
"Well, I'm leaving. I can't stay here and watch you play against my will." Her resolve was unwavering, her determination evident.
"I would call it an invitation instead..." I corrected her statement, hoping to change her perspective.
"Nope, what you're doing to me is against my will," she stated firmly, refusing to accept any alternative interpretation.
I realized that Skye may have misunderstood my invitations to spend time together "against her will," as she usually pointed out. So, in order to clarify the concept of being held against one's will, I decided to show her. In that moment, my hands, damp with nervousness, brushed against her soft and tender curves, applying the gentlest of pressures. Though fleeting, the sensation was enough to ignite a spark of longing within me. If given the opportunity, I would have truly explored the depth of this feeling, cherishing it with utmost reverence. As someone who had come to relish the popularity that followed me at school, I reveled in the stolen moment. However, Skye, in contrast, appeared startled and unresponsive to my sudden action. It was a slight misstep that I brushed off, noticing a faint blush gracing her innocent face.
"Hey, what the hell, Dax!" she exclaimed, surprised by my sudden touch. Irritated, she managed to push me off with her hand. I let her win, wanting to release my grip on her just this once.
"That is what I called being held against your woll, you know," I said, exclaiming with frustration. "Someone needed to explain that to you..."
"I didn't need you to explain anything, you little pervert!" she spat, anger evident on her lips. My eyes widened at her words, but she was still within reach, so I firmly gripped her wrist. Escaping my hold wouldn't be so easy for her.
"I like it," I declared, my voice dripping with desire.
"What?!" she responded, her voice cracking in confusion.
"I like it when you call me a pervert," I confessed, feeling a surge of arousal.
"Well, you certainly are one!" she retorted.
"I am, and I wouldn't mind touching your tender little breasts," I taunted, my voice carrying a mocking edge that seemed to bother Skye.
My gaze involuntarily wandered across her body, from her breasts down to her legs. "Stop looking at me like that!" she snapped.
"Nope," I replied, licking my lips. "I feel like there's something missing in you."
