Page 42 of The Fadeaway
She wears black leggings and a white tank top that doesn’t quite cover her stomach and dips down low enough up top that her tits perk up and beg to be noticed. My hand travels to my cock and fists it. I’m so painfully hard.
It’s a pleasant turn to my night. I’d thought I was going to have to use my imagination and the memories of her hot mouth, but now I’ve got new material.
I stroke myself slow, letting my gaze fall on her heart-shaped face and playful smirk. She’s taunting me with those full lips and mesmerizing eyes. Tightening my hold and quickening the pace, I rake over her body imagining what’s beyond the clothes but somehow loving that she’s not naked. I want to undress her myself, piece by piece, exploring new territory and laying claim.
My balls draw up and I’m so close.
“Woah. Fuck. Sorry man.” Nathan’s voice registers slowly only seconds before my release can take hold and I’m equal parts annoyed and pissed.
“I thought you were going for a cigarette,” I grit out, walking into the bathroom and covering myself with a towel.
“Sorry, man, just forgot a lighter.” He’s quiet for a minute and all I can hear is the soft sound of voices coming from my iPad. “Dude, were you jerking it toSaved by the Bell?”
I step out of the bathroom and grab my phone then turn off my iPad. “No. I just left it on.”
“Why were you watching it to start with? Kelly was hot. No judgment.”
“It sounds like fucking judgment.”
He chuckles, grabs a lighter from his bag and heads back to the door. “I will be back in thirty minutes. That enough time?”
Instead of answering, I flip him off, walk in the bathroom, and slam the door behind me.
* * *
Z nods his head in approval and claps his hands as he takes his place at the block and I walk toward the free-throw line. “Nice work. Let’s get that extra point.”
I take my shot and Arizona State calls a time out. We’re destroying them. Up twenty points at the half, in large part to me. Everything I throw up tonight finds net. Some nights are like that. Most aren’t.
I make the shot and the other team calls a timeout. Nathan and I bump fists as we take a seat on the sidelines.
“It’s alright cause I’m saved by the… it’s alright cause I’m saved by the bell,” he sings quietly with a fucking grin.
“Fuck off,” I say, but I’m smiling.
After Coach gives us a weak pep talk about running through the plays and tightening defense – there’s only so much inspiration you can muster when you’re blowing the other team out of the water–I head back out to the court seeing the cameras and announcers and wondering if Katrina is watching. She said she was, but I don’t know if that was just her feeding my ego.
The idea of her watching may have something to do with my stellar performance. I’m in a zone like I’ve never felt before. I’m always confident and ready to play, but a different sort of calm has settled over me tonight and the only difference I can pinpoint is her which doesn’t really make any sense, but I take my good luck charms very seriously.
Looks like my before game ritual has changed. From now on I need a little dose of Katrina before each game.
* * *
Katrina
“You’re my good luck charm,” Joel says and points a cocky smile at the screen.
He’s wearing headphones and leaning against the bus window. It’s still light out, but just barely, and the soft glow of his phone casts a shadow around him making it hard to see anything else.
“I doubt that very much, but I’m willing to take credit. Is there some sort of payment for my services?” I toss the snark at him before I’ve thought through my words and I can tell by the huge grin that breaks out on his face that I’ve played right into his hand.
“Actually, there is. A date with me. A real one – no phone required. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m loving using my phone for something besides texting and memes, but I think it’s hindering my charm. I’m best appreciated in person.”
I laugh against my better judgment. God, he’s ridiculous.
“I don’t have a sitter until next weekend.” I stop and wait for him to connect the dots – I’ve already checked and next weekend is no good – he has a game. “You have a game, so…”
“Let me take care of the details.”
