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“What do you say, Miss Harris?” I ask as I pull my tank up and over my head.
Her gaze follows it to the ground before kicking back up to mine. “I say, let’s kick some ass.”
That earns her a couple slaps on the back from my friends, and a smirk from me.
“After you,” I say with a sweep of my arm.
Does she catch the deepening layer in my voice?
That little inhale says she does.
I’m damn near weak-kneed watching her ample ass bounce as she makes her way toward the middle of the court.
“Okay, let’s talk strategy. Kate, have you played before?” When she bobs her head, Vedant claps his hands. “Great. Bryce you’ll be the blocker in this first set. Damon and Walter, you’ll be left outside. Aakesh, you’ve got right outside, and Kate will serve. I’ll keep the back middle tight. Everyone good with that?”
We all drop our hands in the middle of our circle and count to three before throwing them up.
Aakesh whoops excitedly, kicking up sand as he rushes for his position.
Kate breezes to her spot, tossing a wink over her shoulder that has blood rushing straight to my groin. Every inch of those strong thighs flex as her muscles adjust to the sand.
I’m not the only one with eyes for the only female on the court. Those dicks across the net don’t even try to hide their wandering gazes trailing over her chest and legs. But to Kate’s credit, she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
The opposing team hollers and whistles as Kate wiggles her hips and curls her bottom lip between her teeth. She tosses the ball high into the air before smacking it hard and sending it sailing across the net.
She charges into position as we move at a swift pace. The ball flies back our way, and I rush in and hit it to Walter, who sets it for Bryce.
When it hits the sand on the opposite side with a dull thud, Bryce flexes his massive arms in front of him and bellows, “Yeah, baby!”
“Nice job, Bryce!” Kate smiles, giving him a high five.
She turns proud eyes on me as if searching for my approval.
I nod. “You’re doing great.”
Heat blooms across my skin as she practically glows.
The six of us find our rhythm after a few sets. Hot sand wedges its way between my toes when I hurry to set for Kate. Our laughter comes as easy as the tide, and as the sun heads down to set, the temperature drops, leaving the last half of our game cooled by palm tree shadows.
My feet are nearly raw by the time we hit the last set. The score is nineteen to twenty, leaving us two points away from the win.
“Alright, hot shot. You’re up again.” Vedant points to Kate as she flips the ball over and over in her hand.
“Game point! Don’t choke!” one of the account directors across the net yells.
Once again, I admire Kate’s powerful body, covered in a light dusting of sand. Her bathing suit accentuates a subtle tan, but the sun’s rays have greedily kissed her skin, deepening her shoulders and cheeks pink.
Bending to position, I clap once before turning back. “Show us what you got.”
That slow-building grin has the determination of a pro. The balls flies over the net with ease, and we lose our minds when the two guys up front whiff, allowing it to smack the sand before rolling off to the side.
Walter shouts, trucking toward Kate before bending down and wrapping his arms around her.
“Don’t get cocky. It’s not over yet!” someone calls from the other team.
Her head swivels toward me when she lands on her feet.
“Game point!” I call, just as the sun has officially passed the horizon.
