Page 68 of Whirlwind
“Ugh, you’re right. You’re right,” I concede. “My self-deprecation is at an all-time high. I’m overthinking all the things I’ve already overthought four times. It’s hard to understand what he sees in geeky, inexperienced me.”
“I get that. Except, I imagine most women who meet professional athletes feel the same way. Isla and I grew up in this world, and even I was weird around Zan when I learned he wasn’t gay and was maybe interested in me,” she says. She had nerves and uncertainty—I remember that. Not quite on my level, but most people aren’t at my scale of social dysfunction. “You might need a confidence boost, is all. Well, and time to adjust. Sharing your life with a partner is a big change.”
“A confidence boost? That sounds helpful. What store sells those?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll find it,” she promises.
“Fucking hell, woman. Warn a man before you open the door looking like that,” Tyson says when he picks me up for our date. This is the first time he’s seeing me dressed up in anything but casual wear. Admittedly, I went for a sexier look than I’d normally choose for a night out. My new dress falls only a handful of inches below my ass. Though the green floral fabric has full-length sleeves, it’s balanced with an extreme plunging neckline. I decided to use boob tape instead of a bra. Besides the dress, I splurged on a pair of delicate lacy panties—something I’ve never done before. But knowing that I have them on is the exact bolster to my ego that I needed, like my own little hidden secret waiting to be exposed at the right time.
He presses a kiss to my temple. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Is it too much? You didn’t give me much to go by.” He was adamant about surprising me. I went for dressy, but I still have my Doc’s on my feet.
“It’s going to be hard keeping my hands off you, but it’s perfect.”
“I never said you had to keep your hands to yourself, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says in a deep, growly voice. Then, his mouth meets mine, his palm on my ass drawing me in and up to him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I say, a little dazed from the searing kiss—something I’m still not used to. Hopefully, I never am. I’d like it to always be this exciting and fun. “I feel like a teenager every time you kiss me. Like I want to pull you to the couch and have a make-out session.”
“If we weren’t on a timeline, I’d happily indulge you. But we are, so your insatiable libido is going to have to wait,” he says. “Do you have a coat? You’ll probably want one for part of the night.”
“Is insatiable bad?” I ask honestly, moving to grab my long teddy coat. It’s a bit ridiculous and over the top, but it’s like wearing a hug—and who doesn’t need that from time to time?
“Your best friends are with hockey players. You have to know insatiable is the best thing,” he says, taking my coat and helping me into it. “This is great—it’s like a Snuggie. If it goes missing, don’t come looking for it at my house.”
“Have you ever dressed in drag?” I ask as he loads me into the passenger seat.
“I was Lady Gaga once for Halloween,” he says as he settles in the driver’s seat.
“You were? Do you have pictures?”
“Yeah, a few years back, I copied her little hooded red hot suit,” he says, pulling his phone out of the center console and handing it to me. “Look through the pictures—it’s on there somewhere.”
I’m awestruck that he so easily hands me his phone to pilfer through. It’s surprisingly well organized, every app in a neat folder. When I click on Photos, those are all sorted into folders, as well. I scroll pastfamily,promo,ice time, almost pausing on one titledIsla and Sadie. But I think better of that—besides,I wasn’t invited to look through everything. Not explicitly, anyway. Eventually, I get to one calledholidays. Sure enough, there are several photos of him hamming it up in a red bodysuit with fishnet stockings stretched to an inch of their life over his huge thighs.
“You look good as a woman.”
“I appreciate that,” he says with a laugh. “It also made me appreciate all the shit you women do on a daily basis, because nothing I had on was comfortable. At all.”
Flipping through a few more shots, I land on one that looks like he’s mid-twerk.
“This one is hot as hell, Tyson. Kind of flooding my basement right now.”
“Oh my fucking God,” he says around a cackle. “How the hell do you simultaneously crack me up and make my dick hard?”
“Men get something like a dozen erections in a day. I don’t think I’m accomplishing much,” I say, pausing on a picture of Lottie dressed up as Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
“I assure you, that’s not accurate data, in my case.”
“More or less?”
“Less. Definitely less. Can you imagine if the whole team got that many in a day? We’d never win a game, let alone get through a practice.”
“You’d have to have circle jerks every intermission,” I say, and again, he laughs. “Have you ever done that? I always imagined that was a thing in sports, since you guys practically live with each other all season.”
“Have I ever jacked off in front of other guys?”
