Page 101 of Courtside

David groaned, scrubbing at his face with his hands. “Because I’m an idiot and I made some comment about taking you on a real date before spending the night with you. And we’ve both been so busy that it hasn’t happened yet. And now here we are, about to share a bed for the first time, and I haven’t had the chance to do the thing that I said I was going to do.” He let out a harsh exhale, wincing. “So now I’m improvising and I know it’s lame, but —”

Sage cut him off with a kiss. One of the slow ones that felt indulgent, like they had all of the time in the world.

After they broke apart, their breathing heavy, Sage walked over to the cue rack, picking one at random. “A basement date it is then,” she said, and honestly, she couldn’t imagine anything better than getting her ass kicked in pool by a man like David Hughes.

Especially if the night ended with them in bed together.

* * *

They were both terrible at pool.

David was marginally better, but even he occasionally missed entirely.

They kept getting distracted — first with a heated discussion about who was most likely to step into the captaincy on the team next season, then a debate about what music they should play, which David won when he put on The Eagles.

Sage teased David’s lack of skill, only to scratch immediately after. David decided that leaning coyly against the table with his ass popped out was the best way to distract her, and, well, he wasn’t wrong; the man had an incredible ass.

There was a lightness to David there in that basement, a playfulness that Sage had never seen in him. Like he was in a place where he could fully relax and let go of whatever worries usually weighed on him. He was quick to laugh, and his smile never faded.

Sage had four balls left and David had two when she trailed her fingers up his back as he bent over to shoot. She had three left when he crowded her against the table’s edge, dropping kisses on the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her neck.

David was on his last shot when Sage leaned out over the table across from him, fully aware of the fact that the low neckline of her tank-top likely meant that he was getting an eye full of her tits.

When he missed, Sage threw her head back in a delighted laugh.

When David circled the table and picked her up before depositing her on the edge of the pool table, her body flared to life. He stepped between her thighs, and her breath caught in her throat as his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing back and forth over the tips of her nipples.

Sage arched into his touch, finding a glimmer of relief, and yet craving more and needing more to the point where she felt like she might explode if he stopped.

“David,” she gasped, her voice coming out in a desperate whine. “Where’s our room?”

Rather than answering, David pulled her to her feet, and, linking their hands together, dragged her from the room.

They ran together up the basement staircase, through the kitchen and past the living room, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the group watching the movie. Then David was pulling her up another flight of stairs. When he reached the top he turned to the right, running down a long hallway until they reached the final closed door.

David flung the door open, tugged Sage through, and then slammed it shut behind them.

They were on each other immediately.

It only took seconds for them to wrestle each other out of their clothes, leaving Sage in nothing but her underwear and David in black briefs. His skin was hot, his hair coarse under her touch as she ran her palms up his chest.

Again, David kissed her. The kiss was frenzied, their lips pulling and tongues battling, like they were still figuring out their rhythm together. David’s hands, which rested on her hips, guided her forward, even as their mouths remained fused together. Without warning, David tipped backwards onto the large bed, pulling her down on top of him.

The kiss broke as David shifted beneath her, scooting up the bed until he lay flat against the white comforter that glowed in the dim light from the lamp on the bedside table.

For a moment, she simply ogled him.

For someone with such a strong body, David was capable of incredible softness. His body was sprawled out, the curves and swells of his muscular legs soft and lax against the white duvet.

She needed to touch him, so she climbed up his long body, trailing her fingertips up his thighs and skirting over the fabric of his briefs. For the moment, she intentionally ignored the thick press of his erection straining against the dark cotton.

She straddled his thighs, the width of him spreading her open, and she watched as his dark eyes dropped down to where her cotton thong barely covered her. Her fingers continued their journey, dragging over the softness of his stomach and over his hairy chest, and she relished the way that his breath hitched and stuttered under her touch.

She looked up at his face. His gaze was burning, eyes almost black, and there was no mistaking the unfiltered want in the way that he looked at her. His face, already a specimen of masculine beauty, was somehow more striking in that moment than she’d ever seen. Her eyes dipped down to his mouth, at his soft, barely parted lips.

In a sudden change of direction, her fingers trailed down his torso until she reached the waistband of his briefs.

“I want to suck your cock.”

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