Wait. She was single, and she could kiss whoever she damn well pleased. Sometimes it was hard to remember that, even now.
And if she pleased to kiss Gianna, or maybe a little more than that, so what? Nobody on her team would care. If members of the other team cared, well, Megan didn’t give a crap about them, other than how they played roller derby.
It didn’t matter if she was into Gianna just because she was a good derby player and a strong opponent. This was a moment to seize, and she was seizing it.
She put her arms on Gianna’s waist and turned them gently without disengaging their lips. Then she started to take slow, careful steps toward the nearby wall, guiding Gianna with careful pressure on her waist.
When Gianna’s ass bumped into the wall, she let out a small oh that went straight to Megan’s crotch. Megan pressed closer to her, her body hungry for the feeling of Gianna’s curves. They did not disappoint, soft and yielding and enveloping.
Gianna slid her hand up a little on Megan’s head, tangling her fingers in Megan’s short hair and pulling her head down more firmly, closer to her mouth. Megan hardly had time to react to that before Gianna’s tongue was slipping between her teeth, driving away any rational thought that might have been left.
So she wasn’t actually thinking about it when her hands slid from Gianna’s sides to her ass, and Gianna made no objection. Megan greedily caressed the full, squishy globes, finding plenty to enjoy there. There was so much of Gianna to explore, and Megan wanted all of it.
But that did seem to be a bit much for the first day they’d met, especially when they were sports rivals. Slowly, rational thought reasserted itself—after some more kissing (though she couldn’t characterize it as enough), Megan pulled slowly and reluctantly away.
She and Gianna stared at each other for a few moments, both breathing hard. Megan’s skin felt hot all over, and her panties were wet. She’d never met anyone who turned her on this much, this quickly. Was it all just because of that impressive first-jam block?
Gianna’s red lipstick was smeared and nearly cleaned off. Megan reached up to touch her lips. Some of that lipstick was probably on her face now.
Gianna’s lips curved into that wicked smile again, though with her pupils dilated like they were, the effect was less—or just different. “Well, you look a mess now.”
Megan forced herself to laugh. It came out breathy. “Not as much of a mess as your team was after we beat you tonight.”
Gianna made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, then suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of Megan’s head again, pulling her down so their lips were crushed against one another. Megan’s rational mind told her to back away, but her body was having none of it. She pressed up against Gianna again, both her hands flat on the wall, eliminating any space between them.
Gianna still had a free hand, and she hooked it around Megan’s thigh, pulling Megan’s leg up so it curled around her—and so Megan couldn’t go anywhere until she let go. Megan throbbed everywhere she was touching Gianna and ached everywhere the blocker’s hands hadn’t yet reached. Her heart was pounding like she was in the middle of a jam, weaving through and shoving past the opposing team.
Now, at least, she understood the attraction. It wasn’t just that Gianna was incredibly hot—though that was an important part of it. Megan was into her because they were opponents, not in spite of it. The game got their blood boiling, and they had to find someone to take it out on.
This was probably a better way of taking it out than the ones she’d found before.
“So,” Shelly said, looking over with a grin as they waited at a stoplight, “how about you and Mountain Bruise?”
“What about us?” Megan said, even though she’d been thinking of practically nothing but Gianna’s lips, tongue, and hands since she’d gotten into Shelly’s car for the ride home.
“Won’t there be a problem on the track if you’re dating a member of the opposing team?” Shelly’s voice was light and teasing, but Megan still feared that she was seriously worried. After all, Shelly was the team captain—she had to do what was best for the team, and she was good at her job.
Anyway, there was absolutely nothing serious between Megan and Gianna. Just the thrill of the derby rivalry and a pretty powerful physical attraction.
Megan snorted and shook her head. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really,” Megan said with a sigh, as though she was tired of being asked about Gianna. “I was just kinda drunk, and she’s hot, and available.”
“Mm.” There were a few moments of silence as Shelly drove fast down the dark, mostly-empty streets. “Maybe a little bit of rebound?”
“Yeah, probably. It had been a while.” Megan grabbed happily onto that excuse. Hell, it might even be true. She had, as Shelly and all the girls knew, broken up with her girlfriend a few weeks before. Megan and Cari had been together for three years, and Megan still felt guilty about it—even though she knew she shouldn’t. It was roller derby that finally had given her the confidence to give back as good as she’d been getting.
They pulled up in front of the house, a three-story rowhouse where Megan lived in the second floor apartment—above the dancers and below the screaming baby (which was unpleasant, but could have been worse). It wasn’t perfect, but it was home. “Thanks,” Megan said, unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing out of the car.
When she leaned in through the back door to grab her derby gear, Shelly twisted around to look at her. “You know, getting your giggles in with a rebound partner might not be a bad thing. I know you’ve been a little messed up. Maybe a clean slate will be just the thing you need to get your head on straight.”
Megan laughed, partly at Shelly’s comment and partly at ‘getting your giggles in,’ but mostly to cover up the hurt she felt at Shelly thinking she was messed up. Megan thought she was fine—or at least she thought she was hiding it well.
“What are you doing, being all wise and giving advice?” she teased. “You’re what, a year older than me?”
“Hey, as of next month I’ll be two years older than you,” Shelly said, pointing at her. “And that’s two years of valuable life experience, I’ll have you know.”
Megan shook her head, grinning. “Well, I’ll try to keep it in mind, oh wise and venerable one. See you on Tuesday.” She slammed the car door and headed to her apartment.
Chapter 3
It felt like Tuesday took forever to arrive. Megan did spend half the day on Sunday sleeping, then the rest of it eating snacks and watching Netflix, but Monday still came, inexorably, bringing with it her workday.
Her job wasn’t all terrible—in fact, some aspects of it were pretty great, mostly the interactions with customers. She worked the front desk at a trampoline park, making reservations, checking people in, and giving them the safety spiel. They got customers of all ages, from two-year-olds just toddling to octogenarians trying to keep up their bone health, and all customers were happy when they came to a trampoline park and bounced around for a while.
Okay, not all of them were happy. There were always a few parents who tried to demand their money back. But Megan didn’t have to deal with any of those that Monday or Tuesday.
What she did have to deal with were conflicting directions from her bosses, mysterious charges on the company’s bank account (which she managed, but did not have access to use), and at lunchtime on Tuesday, a screaming fight between her bosses, who were husband and wife. Megan had perfected the art of looking perfectly calm and unconcerned during those.
But however calm she might look, she didn’t feel calm at all, and she was more than ready to spill her adrenaline on some fast skating and some hard blocking.
What she didn’t expect was for the team to emerge from the locker room for a few laps of the track and find they had an audience.
Megan was one of the first out of the locker room, so she saw them first. They were on the other side of the track, and
she checked her speed as she skated toward them, confused. Were they spectators who’d gotten their dates mixed up? But Monstrous Regiment never had games on Tuesdays—that would be pretty hard to mix up.
As she passed the group, she saw a familiar face at the front. Gianna.
Rolling in the Streets had come to watch them practice.
Anger put a burst of speed on her skates, and she nearly collided with Helen, who was at the back of the pack as the team entered the track.
“Whoa, Splatwood, watch where you’re going!” Helen cried.
“Sorry, Helen,” Megan said, putting the brake on slightly to match Helen’s speed. No one on the team wanted to skate slowly, especially as they warmed up, so they weren’t far behind. “I was a little distracted. Did you see our audience?”
Helen’s eyes got big as she stared. “What? Our practices aren’t interesting enough to have people watching. What are they doing here?”
“Watch as we get close. You’ll recognize some of them, I bet.” They were passing the first quarter of the track. Megan didn’t know which of the skaters Helen might recognize from Saturday’s game or afterparty, so she just gestured toward them as a whole.
“What the fuck?” Helen spun on her skates, and Megan had the satisfaction of watching her skate backward, staring at Rolling in the Streets. She was just as shocked and angry as Megan to see them there.
“They can’t be here,” Helen hissed, spinning again for forward skating. The two of them were catching up with the rest of the pack now.
“I don’t know,” Megan said. “Are there any rules against it or are they just being colossal jerks?”
“It’s got to be cheating,” Kristine said, glancing back at their conversation. “Maybe Shelly will talk to them.”
As Monstrous Regiment made their next pass, Shelly did slow down and stop next to the other team. She said something Megan couldn’t understand in the big, echoing room, and a dark-skinned black woman (Megan recognized Kiss with a Fist, out of uniform) stood up to talk to her.
“I don’t see the problem,” Gayle said, matching her speed to Megan’s. “It’s not like they’re going to get any tips from watching us practice. We just do the same kind of thing everyone else does.”
Megan rolled her eyes, then turned her head to watch Gianna as they skated around the track. It was impossible to actually recognize Gianna from across the room, but Megan knew where she was sitting. “They can see where our weaknesses are,” she said. “What things we’re specifically working on.”
“Yeah, and they can take advantage of it,” Helen said. “You’re right, Kristine, seems like cheating to me.”
Megan glared at Gianna as they skated past. Now the entire team was talking, muttering to one another. Some, like Gayle, seemed to be unperturbed—Mindy even sounded excited about having another team watching, talking about showing off. But most agreed with Megan that Monstrous Regiment shouldn’t be there. At best they were just being obnoxious; at worst they were cheating or even sabotaging the other team.
“How did they even know when we practice?” Tara asked in a low voice—loud enough that only those around her could hear. “A bunch of teams use this track.”
Megan happened to be right behind Tara, and her heart sank. She turned her head as they skated around the track to look at Gianna again.
It was her own fault. Gianna had asked, and Megan had told her. She’d bragged about it. Surely Rolling in the Streets also practiced three times a week or more—but that wasn’t the important thing.
It was that Gianna had taken advantage of her, and now her team was paying the price.
Megan put on another burst of speed, weaving past her teammates. They were still just doing laps, not working on a blocking drill, so no one tried to stop her, though she heard a few shouts behind her. She ignored them.
She whipped past Shelly and Kiss with a Fist, who were still talking, at such speed that she knew it looked like she was going to fly right past the rest of the team as well. But she didn’t. She stopped hard with the brake on her right skate, making a lightning-fast ninety-degree turn to face Gianna directly.
She was showing off, so she put her hands on her hips and sucked in a breath through her nose, trying to make the move look even more effortless than it actually was. When she had her breathing under control, she glared down at Gianna, who was still sitting on the floor—though at least she’d dropped her shit-eating grin.
“What the fuck is this about?” Megan demanded.
Gianna stared back up at her, unrepentant. “We wanted to watch you practice.”
“We?” Megan scoffed. “You mean you tricked our practice times out of me and snuck into the track while we were changing.”
Gianna shrugged. “All’s fair in love and derby, babe.”
Megan took one skate forward, closing the small distance between her and Gianna. “Love? Don’t be ridiculous. You took advantage of me to cheat.”
Gianna stood up in one smooth motion, her tits bouncing right up and hitting Megan in the chest. Megan swallowed, her heart pounding for entirely new reasons, but refused to back down. “Don’t you care accuse me of cheating,” Gianna said, her eyebrows lowering dangerously over her dark eyes. “There’s nothing illegal about watching another team practice.”
“Yeah, we could—” said one of the girls from behind her, but another one elbowed her and muttered, “Shut up.”
Megan barely saw it happen. All her focus was on Gianna. It was only divided between her anger and her desire to slam the other woman against a wall again. Or were they the same desire?
“What do you call this, then? Not cheating, sabotage?” Megan did her best to loom. It should have been easy—she already had five or six inches on Gianna, and she wore skates while Gianna wore flats—but the other woman still had that powerful, indefinable presence that made her seem bigger than she was.
Maybe it was just lust.
“Hey!” Gianna shouted, flinging her hands in the air. “What do you think you’re saying?”
“You heard me,” Megan shouted back, her blood singing through her veins. This fight was giving her almost as much adrenaline as struggling through a pack of hostile blockers.
Gianna raised her hands and pushed Megan’s shoulders, a hard shove that sent her spinning backward for a moment. But she knew what she was doing on skates. She caught her balance and slammed her toe stop down, hearing shouts in the distance. She wanted to tell her teammates she was all right, but all she could focus on was Gianna.
She kicked her skate and brought herself face-to-face with Gianna again. “Do you have a problem with me?” she screamed. “Because I have a problem with you. Get off our track!”
Gianna was answering her question before she could even finish talking. “Yeah, I have a problem with you! How the fuck do you—you don’t get to tell me what to do!”
“Yo! Calm it down!” Kiss with a Fist had a voice even louder than Gianna’s—it cut right through their argument. She seized Gianna by the arm, just as a hand grabbed onto Megan’s upper arm.
Megan turned her head quickly, read to swing—or at least to snap—until she saw it was Shelly, glaring at her. “Chill, Megan,” she said in her team-captain voice—the one that Megan couldn’t help but obey. She loved Shelly, but this time she didn’t want to listen.
“Come on,” Shelly said, when neither Megan nor Gianna argued. Shelly started skating without letting go of Megan’s arm, and Megan had no choice but to kick off—it was either that or be pulled along bodily on her wheels, which would just be humiliating.
Now that her focus had been moved, she saw that the rest of the team was in a huddle by the locker rooms, whispering to each other but no longer skating. “In the locker room, girls,” Shelly called as they skated closer. “I want to talk to all of you.”
“You can let go of me now,” Megan muttered.
Shelly shook her head. “Not yet.” Megan glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at the jammer by he
r side; she was watching the rest of the team as they filed into the locker room.
Shelly stopped both of them before they had reached the doors. She shook Megan’s arm gently, then finally let go. Her dark expression, though, didn’t change. “What the hell was that all about?”
“They’re cheating. They’re here to spy on our weaknesses.” It sounded stupid and childish now that Megan said it out loud—or at least now that she said it to Shelly.
“So what if they are? We can deal with it. You didn’t need to freak.” Shelly frowned, looking at Megan more closely. “I thought you liked that blocker. Mountain Bruise.”
Megan swallowed and looked down, forcing herself neither to look at Gianna nor correct Shelly with her real name. “Yeah, I don’t know if ‘like’ is the word.”
Shelly snorted, and when Megan looked back up at her, she was smiling a little. “Okay, but you have to chill, you know?”
Megan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I know.”
Shelly was really smiling now. “Let’s talk to the rest of the team.”
They skated into the locker room. Half the rest of the team was sitting on benches; the other half was standing around, either fidgeting their skates back and forth or leaning against the wall. Kristine exploded into speech as soon as Shelly entered. “Hey, so are you getting rid of them or what?”
“They’re staying to watch our practice,” Shelly said. She held up a hand as Kristine, Helen, and a few others started to protest, and the room quieted quickly.
Megan skated over to put her back to a locker, next to Helen. She needed something firm to stand against.
“I talked to their team captain, Janine, and she’s right. There’s no rule against watching another team practice. In fact, it sounds like it’s how some of the best teams work. They just wanted to see how we work, see what makes us tick, because we’re so good. I know no one here has forgotten how badly we beat them on Saturday.”
Megan snorted. She didn’t think it was a compliment that the other team was watching them. But Shelly frowned at her, and she didn’t say anything.
Crash Into You Page 2
