Page 48 of Summer Breakdown
“Shh! Marcel gives me the goods.” Jasmine laughs, and every jittery movement of her body means her chest knocks against Frankie’s. “I still have the ball.”
“Wouldn’t I have the ball in this scenario?” Frankie asks, removing herself from the crook of Jasmine’s neck.
“You’d think,” Jasmine drawls. She hands over the imaginary ball, and Frankie rolls her eyes. “Back up.”
Frankie does, her arm crooked like she has a rugby ball tucked between it and her waist. She’s annoyingly cute.
“Okay,” Jasmine says. “Try and run past me.”
Frankie frowns. “But I’ll hurt you.”
“I’m great at rugby,” Jasmine replies. Not true. She was okay, at best, and that was years ago. She scored three tries maximum and hated getting grass stains on her knees.
“You scored two tries the entire season.”
Frankie’s eyes go wide, and Jasmine’s jaw drops. “Did you look me up?”
“No,” Frankie says, shuffling from one foot to another.
“Fibber.”
Frankie laughs, her jaw tight. Fuck, she is so hot.
“I had to check you weren’t a murderer.”
“I might be, and I could totally take you down,” Jasmine says. “Marcel thinks so.”
“Marcel is cute and likes you.”
“Lani said—“
“Lani is a mini you,” Frankie says, her head tilted, and Jasmine pouts. She’s out of fans.
“Teach me,” Jasmine says, dangerously close to stomping her foot. “I’m going to run at you either way.”
Frankie crosses her arms, and Jasmine looks for a dropped ball on the floor like it really exists.
Jasmine takes a deep breath and runs. The worst that will happen is Frankie will move, and Jasmine will have to slow down before she hits the table. Before she can barrel into her, Frankie’s arms wrap around her, and they spin through the air. It’s gentle, the way Frankie lays her on the ground. There’s no shoulder to the stomach. There’s no grunting. Frankie lifts her off her feet with ease, predicting every move she makes, and before she knows it, Jasmine is on her back on the blanket, with Frankie above her.
“I thoughtyouwere going to takemedown,“ Frankie whispers. Her hands bracket either side of Jasmine’s head, and no part of her body is touching her. It’s rude. She’s so stupidly gorgeous that Jasmine almost lets her get away with it. But, two tries or not, Frankie’s fallen for her plan.
Jasmine’s gaze slips to her lips, so she catches the moment Frankie’s jaw falls slightly. The way her pupils darken. The way her head drops a little. But it’s enough. Jasmine hooks her ankle over Frankie’s calf and flips her until she’s on her back and Jasmine is straddling her.
“Oh, fuck,” Frankie says, her arms above her head. It’s torturous that Jasmine isn’t allowed to kiss her when she looks like this.
Jasmine smiles, her breaths shallow, though she’ll blame it on the movement. She sits up a little. Her skirt tucked high against her thighs means the material of Frankie’s trousers hits her clit so perfectly that her eyes flutter. She’s pretending her cunt hasn’t ached with need since she elbowed Frankie in the bar earlier.
Frankie groans, and Jasmine asks, “Are you hurt?”
“Why would I be?”
Jasmine smiles, running her fingers along Frankie’s stomach. She doesn’t think there’s an ache of pain, but Frankiestops breathing like she’s been hit all the same. “From when I exerted my dominance and threw you to the floor.”
Frankie laughs. Jasmine feels it against her inner thighs.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not hurt.” Jasmine swallows, but her fingers linger. “Believe it or not, being thrown around by the hottest woman I’ve ever seen is not something that wounds me.”
Jasmine’s eyes widen. She’s not supposed to be flirting, but she is just a woman who loves strong women, and Frankie’s arms are above her head like she’d let her do whatever she wanted.
