Page 5 of Alone with the Mountain Man

A better question was, did I want to see him naked? And the answer was a disturbingly resounding yes.

We’d already proven I could hold my own on the court. He had to know he’d get naked too.

I should say no. I should grab my witch costume and rush home and… What? Sit there alone, wondering what might have happened if only I’d had the courage?

“You go first,” I said, tossing the ball to him.

He caught it and continued to stare at me. “You’re in?”

He seemed surprised. Did he not think I was adventurous enough to go along with his idea? Or maybe he didn’t think I could kick his butt at basketball. Either way, I was ready to show him just how much he’d underestimated me.

I stepped out of the way and held perfectly still as he dribbled a few times, aimed, and shot.Swoosh.

It made it in.

My wince was a reflex. I had to focus.

He tossed the ball back to me, and I chewed on my lip as I tried to transport myself back to my early teenage years. Back then, making this basket would be second nature. I could have done it in my sleep, I’d practiced so many times.

I shut him out and dribbled, then made my way to the imaginary three-point line. I positioned the ball at my shoulder and tossed it. I was definitely overthinking it, though, because the ball hit the backboard and bounced directly to the ground.

Crap. I’d missed.

But as I looked over at him, his eyes were practically glistening with mischief. Yeah, he liked the fact that I was about to take off my shirt. Or maybe I should remove my leggings.

I looked down. My shoes. I was wearing ballet flats. They weren’t much help on the court, anyway. They counted as an article of clothing, right?

I kicked off my left shoe, grabbed the ball, and tossed it to him. “Your turn.”

He caught the ball but didn’t take his eyes off my one bare foot. “Shoes don’t count.”

“They don’t? Because I’m guessing you have shoes and socks on. That counts for four.”

In fact, all told, he definitely wore more articles of clothing than I did, if socks and shoes counted. I wish I’d thought this through before speaking. But what was done was done.

I shrugged it off and kept playing, doing my best to beat him. But my best wasn’t enough. Or maybe he was playing harder than he had before. Whatever the case, he only missed one shot by the time I’d missed three more.

And that left me standing there in my bra and panties.

“Are you cold?” he asked. “We can stop if you want.”

He was a true gentleman, doing his best to keep his eyes on my face, not my body. But I had a feeling in his peripheral vision he was checking me out.

“The game is keeping me warm enough,” I said.

It actually felt pretty good, and not just the light fall chill on my hot skin. There was something liberating about being outside in my underwear. I could only imagine how it would feel to be completely naked.

“Oops,” he said on the next basket. “Missed.”

I would have sworn he’d done it on purpose, that shot was so bad. He kicked off his other shoe, then removed both socks.

“Just to speed things up,” he said.

“Are we playing until you’re naked or I’m naked?” I asked.

I hadn’t even thought to demand the rules of the game before starting. Normally, I would.

“Once you’re naked, I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate on the game,” he said. “But we can play until my clothes are off too, if you want. In fact, I’ll shortcut things even more.”

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