Page 72 of Oz
I curl my fingers at him. “Bring it on.”
He hands me the large ball. It’s heavy and cold. “Okay, short stuff. Give it your best shot.”
I snort. “Fuck me. That’s terrible heckling.” I pass him the ball and stand back. “I insist you go first. Age before beauty.”
He shakes his head wryly and rolls his ball hard at the row of skittles. Unfortunately, it hits a lump of grass and it sends it off course ending up with … “No kayles knocked over,” I say gleefully.
He laughs. “I’m starting to detect a very competitive streak in you, Ozzy.”
I smile evilly. “I’m a very sore loser.”
His gaze drops to my lower half. “You will be,” he promises.
I feel my cock stir and shake my head. “Do not distract me with your sexual wiles, you jezebel.”
I take the ball from him and bowl it smartly down my run and then jump and cheer when it knocks over four kayles.
I turn to find him grinning at me. I tap a finger against my teeth, affecting deep thought. “Okay, get rid of some clothes, loser.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Very well.” He reaches down and unties the laces on his faded navy Converse and kicks them off.
“Spoilsport.”
“Yep.” He grins. “Okay, ask me your question.”
“What is the naughtiest thing you did as a teenager?” I love hearing funny stories of him and his brother.
He thinks hard. “Jesus, that’s difficult. We did so much. Okay, once we put laxatives in my father’s tea.”
I laugh. “Did he deserve it?”
“Oh, totally. The old bastard. I don’t think he quite deserved thequantitywe put in though. He sat on the toilet for so long that the loo seat had an imprint of his buttocks.”
I throw my head back and laugh. He starts to put the skittles back into order and I help him. He grins at me. “Prepare to go down. I know the lay of the course now.”
I nudge him. “Pride goes before a fall.”
A minute later I watch as he does some sort of strange victory dance that makes him look rather like a dying chicken. He stops and grins at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be losing something?”
I smile slowly at him before reaching down and pulling my t-shirt off. His eyes darken and I grin at him. “Only wusses remove shoes first.”
He shakes his head. “Okay, my question for you is, what is the stupidest thing you did as a child?”
I grin. “I ran away from home once and decided to hitchhike back to Ireland.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t that another question?” He shoves me and I relent. “I didn’t like London when we arrived. I hated it because I’d runvery free in Ireland. Anyway, matters came to a head when my mum refused to let me watch the Brit Awards so I packed up all my worldly belongings and headed out.”
“How far did you get?”
I laugh. “The bus stop. It was raining and dark and I knew my mum was making a fish pie, so I headed back and we watchedCoronation Streetinstead.” I laugh. “I know you’re thinking what a rebel I am.”
He grins and hands me the ball. “I might be too intimidated by your bad boy reputation now to play at my best.”
A few minutes later I grin. “I don’t think there’s any ‘might’ about it. Lose something interesting this time.”
He smirks and takes a very long time to remove his top. I stare at his wide, hairy chest and the way his shorts hang from his narrow hips, showing the skin that I know is as soft as silk and drives him mad when it’s kissed. I look up to find his lips quirked queryingly and jerk. “Oh yes, my question. Let me see. I know. How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
