Page 29 of Scoring Truth
His hands drift over my waist and down to my thighs. Running his hands back up, he catches my slip and lifts it.
I swat at his hands. “I thought you were teaching me plays.”
“Oh, we’re going to play. Don’t worry about that,” he whispers in my ear and pushes at the small of my back, still holding my waist with his left hand. I bend forward at the waist, my ass grinding into him.
And he’s ready to play.
I let out a shriek as he slaps my ass, and I feel him bend behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m teaching you my position. Don’t you want to be in charge, Pip?” He’s taunting me, and it’s incredible. I’ve never had someone want to turn sex into playtime. The intimacy is extraordinary. I feel so comfortable and able to be myself with him.
I look between my legs and see his two hands there, shaped as if he’s waiting for me to pass him a ball.
I feel his breath against my skin, his chest brushing against my back. He’s so big, and it makes me feel protected.
“As the QB, I call out the play. My offense listens to me and moves accordingly, some trying to fake the other team, others trying to get them to jump early and call an offside.”
I stand and look over my shoulder. “We’ll get to that.” He pushes me back down, smoothing his hand over my ass once again, and I giggle.
“Do you touch your teammate’s ass like this, too?”
“Only if he’s good.” He spanks me again. “Now, pay attention. I’ll call the play, and then you’re going to hand me the ball. I want you to fake right, then move left. The goal is to get away from the opponent and get open.” He pauses. “Wideopen.” I glance over my shoulder, andhe winks, and I shake my head, suppressing a grin. “So I can pass you the ball, and you can make a run for the end zone.”
I shrug and get into position again. “Seems easy enough.”
“Sure, just make sure you don’t get tackled along the way.” His tone is playful and daring.
“Most QBs use the term, ‘white 80 set hut’ which means I expect the ball on the snap. Others will differentiate words so as to throw off the opponent’s timing. I use ‘White 80 Comets! Comets!’ which means my center knows to pass the ball to the second Comets. It usually confuses the other team when the snap is going. Though they’re starting to catch on to it now.”
“Getting sloppy in your old age, I see.”
“Bend over and pass me the ball, Pip.”
I giggle and wait for his command. “White 80 Comets! Comets!” I shove my hands into his, then take a few steps right before turning back left. I turn and face him with my hands out. “I’m open!” I yell, and he laughs. He throws the fake ball my way, and I back up a step or two.
But then he charges me. I scream as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
“Jameson! This isn’t football!”
“I told you to avoid being tackled. But it looks like you’re too slow.” I slap at his ass as he throws me to the bed, covering me with his body. He settles between my legs, and I wrap them around his waist.
We are both laughing. He says, “That was the best play I’ve ever run.” He bites my bottom lip and licks it to soothe it. I grind myself against him.
“Let’s see what other plays you have up your sleeve.”
He drifts down my body, kissing and feeling his entire way. I lay my head back with my eyes closed and just feel.
He pulls at my slip and kisses around my belly button,tickling me with his scruff. “You were outstanding tonight, Penelope.” He moves lower and around to my hip.
“You fit in perfectly with everything I had to do, never once complaining or trying to run.” He chuckles, and I pick my head up to look at him as he hands me my glasses. “I want you to see me when I say this.” I furrow my brows, push my glasses on, and lean up on my elbows.
“You turned a day I was dreading into something I can’t wait to do again next year. With you.”
My heart stutters at his admission, and I hold back the tears.
“Jameson,” I breathe out. “I want that, too.”
