Page 6 of Alone with the Mountain Man

He jerked off his shirt, tossing it to the ground. My mouth fell open. I should say something here, tell him to put his shirt back on. I didn’t want an advantage. I wanted to pick up my game and show him I could come back from my horrible performance.

But the competitive part of me was losing out to the part of me that wanted to look at that bare chest, those defined biceps. The guy was all muscle, and it was doing things to me. Things that were sure to throw off my game, despite my efforts.

I made the next basket. Then he made another. Finally, I missed one and had to take off my bra. I tossed the ball to him and reached behind me, trying not to think too much.

“Fuck,” he said.

He’d stopped everything and was staring down at the ground. My heart sank. He was disappointed in what he saw. Maybe he thought my breasts were too big. I had a brief insecure moment where I was back in high school, being bullied for developing faster than my classmates.

But I quickly got my thoughts in check. I was a beautiful woman who didn’t base her perception of herself on how others saw me.

“Are you going to shoot?” I asked, putting a hand on each hip.

When he looked up, there was no doubt in my mind. He liked what he saw. He’d looked away to gather his concentration.

Sure, I didn’t base my self-worth on what other people thought, but the way he looked at me now sent a thrill throughme. I’d never imagined how nice it would feel to have a man like this one want me.

When he shot this time, he missed his mark by so much, I wondered if he’d done it on purpose. The ball was dribbling its way back to me as he unfastened his pants and lowered them.

My eyes widened as I stared at the gigantic bulge behind those navy blue cotton briefs. He was hard. Noticeably hard.

He couldn’t see how wet I was, which gave me an advantage. But if he touched me, moving his fingers between my legs and inside me, he’d know instantly just what he was doing to me.

A sound escaped my lips. It was almost like a groan, but higher pitched. And that was when I realized I was staring directly at his crotch.

I deliberately forced my gaze to his face and saw the corner of his mouth tugging upward slightly. He found this amusing. Or maybe he just got the same thrill I did over this attraction that was flying between the two of us.

“Your turn,” he said.

The ball was on the ground between us. He hadn’t even tossed it to me, as we’d been doing. That meant I had to step closer to him to retrieve it. Very close. I felt the heat coming off his body, along with the strong urge to touch him. It was like some force was pulling me toward him, and it was a force that I had to battle.

Somehow, I managed to grab the ball and step back, all too aware of how my breasts jiggled with each movement. I took a deep breath and turned back to the basket. This was it. The last shot, and I’d be completely naked. And this game would be over.

I didn’t want it to be over. I wanted to see him fully naked. So I put all my effort into making the shot, and when it went through the hoop, I let out a jubilant yes, then stepped back, bouncing the ball to him.

“Your turn,” I said.

I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t make it in. I wanted to see what that underwear was hiding.

4

NASH

She wanted to see me naked.

That was the thought that filled my mind as I turned back to the basket. My game was wonky. Any skills I had would have gone by the wayside the second her clothes started coming off, anyway. All I could think about were those perfect, rose-tipped breasts and how much I wanted to bridge the distance between us and pull her against me, flattening her chest against mine, feeling her nipples against the hard wall of my chest…

If Aurora wanted to see me naked, though, I didn’t want to make this shot. This shot would end the game. If she didn’t make the next hoop, she’d be naked, and it’d be over. I wasn’t sure what my getting naked would do to extend things, but I had to give it a chance.

I deliberately shot toward the basket and let it bounce off the backboard, knowing that I’d thrown it just hard enough that it would come in this direction instead of toppling downward. As the ball bounced back toward us, I stepped forward and caught it, then turned to face her.

“Game over,” I said. “Unless you want to keep it going.”

An idea was forming, but I had to make sure she was on board. Just a little idea that could make this the hottest night of my life.

“Oh no,” she said. “You’re not getting out of this. Underwear off.”

I shifted my weight, moving the ball to hold it against my side. “Oh, the underwear is coming off. I’m talking about what happens if you make the next basket.”

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