Perfect Spiral (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 2) by Lane Hart

Author:Lane Hart [Hart, Lane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Editor's Choice Publishing
Published: 2017-03-17T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Quinton

Callie let me look at her tits.

I’m not sure why that amuses me so much, especially since I’m sitting in the fucking training room alone with her while my teammates are out on the field playing without me. I should be thinking about them, not how perfectly round and full Callie’s tits were or how sexy the navy blue lace was, so sheer that I could see a hint of her pink nipples through it.

Like a juvenile boy with a Playboy magazine, my dick’s hard from just looking at a pair of titties. Maybe I hit my head on the ground harder than I remembered.

“My head hurts,” I tell Callie, rubbing my temple as a distraction from wondering how my team is doing and how Warren, my backup, is playing. Please let him hold this shit together.

“Sorry,” she says with a frown. “I don’t know if you can have headache medicine or not. Maybe I can get you some ice?”

“No. There’s only one thing I need,” I tell her seriously. “A soft place to lay my head. I know of just the spot, too. Why don’t you hop up here so I can cozy up to your pillows?” I tease her, my grin breaking through despite trying to hide it.

“Oh grow up,” Callie huffs.

“Something’s growing, all right,” I tell her, waggling my eyebrows.

“I’m gonna regret flashing you for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” she asked. “Should’ve known better than to give in to the whims of the crippled.”

“Hey! I’m not crippled, just concussed. And I’ve had worse.”

“Concussions are dangerous, Quinton,” Callie replies.

“I know,” I agree with a nod. “If I had just hurt my ankle, you wouldn’t have flashed me, would you?”

“We’re never gonna talk about that again,” Callie tells me through gritted teeth.

“Okay, fine. No more talking about it,” I agree. “Doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about them.” Closing my eyes, I start fondling an imaginary pair of Callie’s tits in the air in front of me before I bring my mouth down so I can flick my tongue over where one of her nipples would be.

“Jesus. He’s worse than I thought,” the voice I recognize as Lathan’s says, causing my eyes to open and my hands to let go of the phantom boobs.

“Final score?” I ask anxiously, watching his face for the answer. I groan when he winces. “How bad?”

“The D was no joke. Warren got sacked. Twice,” Lathan fills us in.

“But we were up by thirteen!” I exclaim.

“And he fumbled both times. The defense ran it back for a touchdown on the first one, and then our defense couldn’t stop the Shark’s offense when they recovered the second turnover at the twenty-yard line. Final score 14 to 13.”

“Fuck!” I shout, wishing I had my worthless helmet to throw again.

“It wasn’t your fault, man,” Lathan says. “If you had been out there, you might have fumbled too.”

“I don’t fumble!” I yell in response. “One, I’ve only had one fumble in the last three years!”

“Watch and see.

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