A Game Called H-O-R-S-E

Brooklyn

 

 

 

“HEY, DELANEY.” I SMILED easily, holding my hands out to my sides. “’S’okay if I join you?”

“Just for a game of hoops?” The gold-flecks in her irises turned almost black as she walked toward me.

“Yeah.”

“You’re on.” She shoved the ball at me.

I dribbled between my legs then raced off to the other end of the court. Four pumps of my legs and I swished that motherfucker in nothing but net.

Delaney wasted no time retrieving the basketball. She dodged every one of my lunges, heading down court like a missile.

She made a three-pointer from the line.

She was hotter than anything I’d ever seen.

A real tomboy, with a banging body and a great rack.

And the woman dazzled me enough that I forgot to catch the rebound when the ball bounced on the floor.

As she double-dribbled in front of me, I watched a drizzle of sweat slide down her neck.

Gulp.

“Play b-ball in high school?” I asked when I found my voice, shadowing her across the waxed floor.

“Point woman. All-Star states team.”

“Why football now?” Dodging in front of her, I stole the ball.

Delaney came right after me, fast hands trying to nab the basketball. “I’ll take sport anywhere I can get it.”

“Balls too?”

Because fuck yeah to that.

“Maybe yours.”

When she said that, I pretty much stumbled over my own two feet.

Delaney snatched the basketball, hit net, and I curled around her from behind.

The forgotten ball bounced . . . bounced . . . bounced . . .

Unbalanced, we dropped to the floor, Delaney landing on top with a gust of bright laughter. Her hair fell in my face, softly scented black tresses I puffed out of my way.

Horsing around, we rolled across the floor until I stopped on top of her. I held most of my weight off her, but when my groin connected with her pelvis, my chuckle turned into a deep groan.

“Oh damn,” she whispered.

Heat slammed me in the balls, and I was fully hard, my cock crushed against her pussy through the thinnest barrier of clothes.

“The rumors were true.” Her hand wandered low, and she slipped her palm beneath the waist of my shorts.

Warmth met my thick dick, and I pushed into her fist. “What rumors?”

“Girth Brooks.”

I pulled her hand free and grinded against her as come prepared to unload from my cock.

“Do you always go commando, Free Baller?”

Her hips jutted up. Her lips found my neck. Her hot mouth and teasing tongue made me pulse harder against her.

“Am I crushing you?” Hurting you?

“Uhhhn. Feels good.”

Fucking. Hell.

I dipped my head, just about to kiss her long and hard when the door banged open and a voice boomed out, “No fraternization, Holt!”

Goddammit.

I quickly jumped off Delaney then pulled her from the floor, sheltering her behind me.

“Jeeesus, Coach D. Don’t you have a family to go home to or what?”

“Yeah.” He slapped his baseball cap against his thigh, scowling at me. “And I already done raised Philomena. Now I’m stuck straightening you dickheads out.”

I ushered Delaney past him and into the corridor, prodding her in the opposite direction. “All right already. Look”—I started ambling the other way—“I’m going to the men’s locker room. She’s headed to the lady’s.”

“Mm hmmm.” Coach D replaced his cap and pulled the brim down. “Better keep it that way too.”

I listened to his whistle retreating all the way to the front entrance then another loud bang of doors. Sneaking back down the corridor, I reached Delaney just before she entered her locker room.

I grasped her arm, and she spun around, mouth open to shriek.

“Ssshhh. Just me.”

Her feline-like eyes narrowed. “Boy, you are asking for trouble.”

“Coach D’s gone. We’re in the clear.” I released her and grinned. “Damn, you make me feel like a teenager. You know that?” I squinted at her.

Her cheeks heightened in color, the pretty blush erasing the stark edges she built up around herself.

“I keep forgetting Coach David is Phil’s dad.” Her gaze pinpointed on a far point on the wall as she changed the subject.

“You met her already?”

“Philomena? She’s sweet.”

“Not the word I’d use. She’s a man-eater. Or I guess a lady-killer.”

“Reeeeaaalllly?”

“Rafe said”—I chewed on my bottom lip, taking in the sight of Delaney with the killer hot bod flushed and sweaty—“well, I guess I shouldn’t gossip. Leave that to Marquis, right?”

We leaned against the wall, laughing, our arms brushing, until Delaney straightened up and moved slightly away.

“I should clean up and get home,” she said.

“I could drive you. And that offer for dinner still stands, you know?”

“We shouldn’t get close, Brooks. I’d just hurt you.” Her delicate brows drew together.

“Or are you worried I’d hurt you? Because I promise I wouldn’t.”

“Maybe that’s it. I’ve gotta protect myself.” Her shoulders hunched a little.

I backed off. Palms up. Not a threat.

“Okay. You tell me when. You’re in charge, Delaney.”

She flicked her hair out of her eyes, considering me. “I probably won’t see you for a couple days.”

“Why’s that?”

A smile finally tilted her lips. “I’ve got an away game. We’re playing the New Jersey She-Devils.”

“Now that’s the kind of girl-on-girl action I’m talkin’ about.” I leered at her, hoping to make her laugh.

She slugged me in the arm. “Brooklyn!”

“I’m kidding.” Sort of. Then I said, “I’m coming.”

“Not unless it’s with your own hand.” She smirked.

Cough splutter groan. “I meant to the game.”

“Brooklyn Holt.” She placed her hands on her hips, going full bossy mode. “You are not buying a ticket to fly to Jersey just to watch me play.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Probably a waste of money.”

Her mouth popped open and her eyes widened.

“I’ll use my air miles, baby.” I winked at her.

She laughed in disbelief. “Asshole.”

I started backing down the hallway, grinning. “’Sides, it’s a bye week. What else I got to do, baby?”

“You’re unbelievable.” She watched my retreat, shaking her head and chuckling. “Sexy asshole.”