Page 9 of Play With Me
“Myles,” he says, his voice low. “You show up in my space again, I’m going to put you on your knees and stick my cock down your throat. Just know that. It’s your one warning.”
My cock twitches as I throw his door open and stride through.
I need a fucking long run after this. I’ve lost my fucking mind.
Chapter Two
Idon’t know why, but I end up at his soccer game the next night. It’s a home game right on our college campus, so I tell myself that I’m just here to support the team, that I’m just showing a bit of school spirit. But the reality is, I came alone and I’m wearing a dark sweatshirt, the hood covering my head like some kind of Peeping Tom looking in a window.
And that’s exactly what I do. I watch him. I tell myself not to, but my eyes are glued to the way he moves across the field, the way he passes the ball to a teammate, the way he smashes it into the goal. He leads his team with impressive focus, and it’s clear, even from here, that he runs the show. They all look up to him. He’s the captain for a reason.
Do my guys look at me this way?
I don’t know.
I run a hand through my hair, accidentally pushing my hood back, and I quickly tug it back down. I want to be as inconspicuous as possible, especially as my eyes rove over his body. The way his body fills out the jersey, the way the muscles in his legs bunch as he runs down the field, those knee socks hugging his calves.
I hate that he looks good as he does it.
And once again, he drives the ball into the goal. The stands erupt in cheers, but I stay seated. I fist my hands on my thighs to make sure I don’t get to my feet.
I don’t want to celebrate his accomplishments. I really don’t, even though the way he commands the field is thrilling.
Has he ever come to my rugby games to watch me play?
The thought stirs something inside me as my eyes drift back to him. It’s halftime, and I watch him drink water from his bottle, his throat bobbing as he swallows, sweat dripping down his temples. His hair is wet, his cheeks flushed. He’s grinning, slapping the hands of his teammates, his eyes flickering around the stands, like he’s looking for someone.
Like he’s expecting someone.
Maybe someone he’s interested in? Another girl?
I lean further back, blending into the crowd.
I don’t want him to see me here. It will give him ideas, make him think that I’m into him or something.
And I don’t want him to think that. This is just me attending a game in team support. I have school pride. It’s nothing more.
Suddenly, I see his gaze skim over the row I’m in before those dark eyes flash back to me. The weight of his stare settles on me roughly, and my cock twitches in my pants.
Fuck. Fuck!
There are hundreds of people here. There’s no way he can see me or sense that I’m here. That would be impossible.
Yet, his gaze lingers, hot and heavy.
He’s definitely caught me.
I shrink back in my seat, my eyes not leaving his. His mouth quirks, and he winks at me, blowing me a kiss.
He leans his head back and laughs, then turns around and runs back onto the field.
I squirm and fidget, hating the attention. People are whispering, looking around to see who that was for. Rationally,I realize no one could know it was directed at me, but still. That fucker. He did it anyway.
I blame the loss of my lucky coin for this.
If I had my coin, then I wouldn’t be in this situation, and his gaze would have never found me.
I need my coin back.
