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“This is stupid,” I mumble against his lips.
“Very.” A moan breaks him off. “Fuck, Kyla. I can’t think straight.” His fingers trail under the waistband of my jeans.
He changes our position, gently pushing me against the side of the building.
“You know how much it sucks having a hard-on in a fucking cup?”
I grin. “This was your idea.”
“I just don’t know when we’re ever going to have time alone.”
“We’re not alone, Oscar. Your fans are in the stands.”
He looks bemused. “Hardly.” He pulls his hand out of the back of my jeans and passes it over my stomach until he’s inches away from my chest. “You’re hard for me.”
I take a quick peek, knowing full well what Oscar’s getting at. My nipples are pebbled, pushing against my shirt. Aching.
“I want to take them in my mouth, slide my tongue over them,” he groans.
I bite down on my lip. “Jesus, Oscar.” I drop my head back against the wall. My core is throbbing. I’m wired for electricity at this point.
I push his knee out from in between my legs and create some distance between us. “This can’t happen right now.”
“What if I dropped to my knees and kissed you here?” he asks, trailing a hand up my inseam to the vee of my legs.
I brush his hand away after my panties soak through. “You want to make both of us crazy.”
“It’s fun this way,” he says. “Now you’ll be watching me, wishing my tongue was inside you.”
“And you’ll be getting tackled with an erection. How does that help either one of us?”
His lips tip up. “You’re my kind of girl, Princess.”
I don’t take the bait this time. I’m already going to be watching the rest of this game wondering what Oscar’s like in bed. I don’t need to torture myself any further. “You better take a cold shower after your game.”
“Only if you’re in it with me.”
A whistle pierces the air. Oscar’s face hardens. I take a step away from him. “You better get back out there.”
His lips thin. He lifts his hand to place his fingertips on my cheek. “After the game,” he says. There’s no question in his voice. It’s more like a command. He turns, running back to the field while the voices around us start to pick up again. I don’t leave the back of the wall until several minutes pass. I’m pretty sure the team is already playing judging by the sounds of pads colliding with pads and the occasional argument on the field.
When enough time has gone by, I push off the wall and take my place by the fence again. Watching Oscar is a different experience now, and I was right about one thing. I’m wondering if he moves in bed like he moves on the field. He’s lithe, smooth, with the right amount of power.
“Hey,” a voice says behind me.
I practically jump out of my skin. Turning, I find Magnum breathing down my neck. “Fuck,” I breathe.
He takes me in, and I feel like I have sex on the brain, and he can tell. “I need you to come with me. Something’s come up.”
I look longingly back over at the field. “What?”
“Just come on,” he says. “I’ll explain it to you in the car.”
I want to protest, to tell him I should let Oscar know where I’m going, but I don’t think that would go over well if it got back to Johnny. Instead of doing any of that, I fall into step behind Magnum and just hope Oscar happens to be looking my way, so he doesn’t think I deserted him.
That’s the last thing I want to do right now.
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