What are the chances that I’d run into him here? Shouldn’t he be training or something? He doesn’t seem like a cover band kind of guy, more like someone who’d be pumping themselves up for the Billy Eilish concert tonight at the United Center.
“You know, if you want to talk about something else, that’s all you need to do. You don’t need to give me the cold shoulder.” He leans over, his chest so close to my back that I can feel his heat burn my skin.
The proximity ignites a flame inside me, the whisper of his voice throwing fuel onto that flame. Unfortunately, there’s no denying the way my body reacts to him. His masculinity is overpowering, obvious in every move he makes, every word he speaks. Confidence consumes him, which is a big turn-on but also extremely annoying.
Without turning around, I say, “You must not be very perceptive. The last thing I want is for you to talk to me, it’s why I turned my back.”
“Oh, I thought it was because you wanted to give me a better view of your delicious ass.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Wouldn’t dream of touching you without your permission, but I’m not going to lie, my eyes are fucking you right now.”
Men . . .
“Could you be anymore cliché?”
“I can.” He leans in closer, his lips so close to my ear that goosebumps spread up and down my arms and legs. “Did you just fall from heaven? Because you’re an angel.” I shake my head. “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
“Pathetic.” I hold back my chuckle.
“Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.”
“You don’t even know what color they are.”
He steps up even closer, his rock-hard chest pressing against my back as his hand falls to my exposed hipbone. “They’re brown, but not just any kind of brown. They’re a dark chocolate, so dark that I can’t decipher where your pupil begins and ends. They’re mysterious, and if you took off your sunglasses right now, I know I’d get lost in them for at least the next five minutes.”
Warning bells are going off in my head, alerting me to step away, to flee the premises because, ladies . . . we have a very smooth talker. The kind of talker who easily gets you out of your pants with simply an additional flash of a roguish eyebrow. The kind of talker who gives you the most passionate night of your life, only to have you wake up on your own. The kind of talker that’s detrimental to any woman’s will.
Bad news, that’s what Holt Green is.
There’s no way he should be able to turn me on with the press of his hand and a whisper of how he’d get lost in my eyes, but he did. My skin tingles for his touch, my legs ready to part if he asked, my lips wet and slick, excited to feel his mouth on mine. Basically, he’s turned me into a harlot with one slick answer to a question I thought I’d stump him on.
Swallowing hard, I say, “I thought you said you wouldn’t touch me without my permission.”
In an even deeper voice, he says, “I lied,” just as his thumb strokes along my hipbone.
And just like that my nipples are hard, pressing desperately against the small triangles of my bathing suit top.
If he notices, I’m so screwed.
Unsure what else to do, I gear up and shoot my ass back into him in one smooth push. He releases my hip and buckles over . . . just in time for me to step up to the concession stand and put in my order.
There, that should do the trick.
Chapter Five
**HOLT**
The reason why I’m still bent over as Harmony places her order is because I have one hell of a hard-on, and not because she toppled me over.
Fuck . . . she smells like goddamn vanilla and coconut, and she looks like a wet dream in that bathing suit.
She looked hot as shit in her Instagram story, but it didn’t do her justice. Her smooth skin shines under the blinding sun, enticing me to slide on my sunglasses and stare for hours. The yellow bottoms barely cover her round ass, giving every guy in the area a great view of the two round globes, and in the front, her small breasts are accentuated by the thin straps of fabric just covering her nipples.
There’s no denying she’s proud of her body and has no problem showing it off.
And honestly, I want to write her a thank-you note for giving us all a sensational view today.
I haven’t felt this kind of attraction to a woman in . . . forever. I’ve had my fair share of one-night stands and a few girlfriends in high school, but they’ve never lit me up how Harmony does with one glance in my direction.
Instead of chasing after her, I give myself a second to recover and then carefully watch where she settles down with her funnel cake and lemonade. Not too far from where I parked my towel and backpack. Easy transfer. Surely she didn’t think I was done after her little push. If anything, knowing how fucking good her ass felt—if only briefly—on my dick, I’m even more determined. The girl has sass and fire. I like it.
Once I feel it’s appropriate for me to stand, I order myself a brat and a bag of chips. During my wait, I observe Harmony from a distance. She’s leaning in, talking to her friend who looks familiar—I think the other waitress from the diner—no doubt telling her about her little run-in with me.
I might be borderline insane, possibly stalkerish—okay, very stalkerish—but I want to get to know this girl. There’s something about her besides her gorgeous looks and up-front attitude that’s drawing me toward her, and I want to figure it out.
Backpack slung over my shoulder and towel draped across my arm, I take my food over to their setup. Without saying a word, I lay out my towel next to hers and make myself comfortable. When her friend spots me, I smile as her mouth falls open and she lifts her hand to point behind Harmony.
“Why are you pointing? Do you see him?” Harmony asks. “Is he looking at me?”
“Can’t take my eyes off you,” I answer.
In a blink of an eye, she snaps her head to the side, taking me in. “Wh-what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Finding a comfortable place to sit.” I observe our surroundings. “Crowded, wouldn’t you say?”
She looks around as well and says, “There are at least a dozen other spots you could claim.”
“Yeah, but not with the kind of view this one provides.” I glance down her body and then back up.
“You’re a pig.”
“Because I can appreciate beauty in the wild? That makes me a pig?”
She shakes her head, her natural curls bouncing around her face. “Oh no, don’t you dare spin this. You’re being an intrusive male, and I don’t appreciate it.”
“I actually think that beauty comment was sweet,” her friend says.
“River,” Harmony scolds.
“Why, thank you,” I say while leaning over Harmony and holding out my hand to her friend. “Holt. It’s very nice to meet you, River, is it?”
“Yup.” She fluffs her black hair over her shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you. Harmony hasn’t stopped talking about you since last night.”
“Is that right?” I ask, a giant smile on my face.
Giving in, Harmony sits up and crosses her legs, setting her funnel cake in her lap. “Don’t get your hopes up, it was out of pure hatred.”
“You know what they say . . .” I shrug.
Harmony tilts her head in my direction. “Is there an end to that sentence?”
“I was hoping you’d finish it for me, but I see you’re being stubborn today.” I stretch my legs out over my towel and pick up my brat. Before taking a bite, I say, “You know what they say . . . hate often turns into love.”
Harmony snorts. “Ha, okay. Yup. That’s what this is, the start of the greatest love story of all time.”
“I’m glad you see it that way too.”
“Oh, he’s charming.” River tries to pluck a pi
ece of Harmony’s funnel cake, but she swats her away. So of course, River keeps digging her own grave, shedding me in a beautiful light. “It’s hard to look past the rippling muscles. I mean, who knew there was sinew that wrapped around ribs?”
“It takes a lot of protein and vegetables to get those—brat excluded today,” I say with a wink.
“I believe it. And what about that V in your hips that’s directing my wandering eyes straight to your crotch?”
“You are so embarrassing,” Harmony says, but I catch her glance at my crotch for a brief second.
Look all you want, sweetheart.
“That’s from ab work. Lots of obliques.”
“Would you say you spend a lot of time in the gym?” River asks, tapping her chin with interest. I’m pretty sure River is doing this on purpose, torturing her friend with questions about me, and I honestly couldn’t ask for a better wing-woman.
“A lot of time. You see, River, us baseball players, we’re not the stuck-up assholes everyone thinks we are.”
“Guilty.” River raises her hand. “I’m one of those people.”
“I’m not going to say that doesn’t hurt, but I can see that you’re open to a change of heart.”
“Jesus Christ.” Harmony keeps her head down and continues to tear apart her funnel cake, getting powdered sugar all over her fingers. What I wouldn’t give to lick some of it off, especially the light dusting that’s fallen on her legs.
“So open. Please, Holt, change my way of thinking.” She props her chin up and blinks rapidly. If I wasn’t so enamored with the brick wall erecting next to me—I’m talking about Harmony, did you get that?—then I’d consider making a move on River. She’s fucking funny.
But alas, I’m caught up on the girl in the yellow bikini. Which means, I spend the next ten minutes describing our practices, our workout routines, our community service, our study halls, and private lessons with coaches, pretty much everything that goes into being a Brentwood baseball player.
When I’m done, I take a sip of my water and then pop open my chips, letting River and Harmony mull it over.
Impressed, River smiles broadly while Harmony stares at the water, her funnel cake long now.
I can’t read the purse of her lips or the tension in her shoulders. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Is she annoyed that I proved her wrong and showed her that we actually are good people? Is she upset she has to give in to liking me? Is she irritated because we’re in public, and all she wants to do is jump my bones?
I’m hoping for the latter.
Jump all you want, Harmony, there’ll be no protest on my end.
Finally, she rolls her head to the side and says, “I still think you’re a bunch of arrogant assholes who don’t deserve everything that’s handed to you.”
Well, there goes my dreams of slipping off to somewhere private.
“Pfft.” River leans over Harmony and talks to me as if she isn’t lying on Harmony’s lap. “She’s lying. She has this telltale sign when she lies. Her ears move.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Fine, her boobs twitch.”
“They do not,” Harmony says, as I push myself not to stare at Harmony’s breasts looking for a lying tick.
“Okay, so she doesn’t have a tell, but I know as her best friend that what she just said was a lie. She’s putting up a front right now because she finds you attractive and dangerous.”
“Attractive, yes,” I say. “But dangerous? Nah, I’m a clean-cut boy, remember?”
“On the outside,” Harmony says, giving me a slow once-over. “But on the inside, you’re all kinds of danger. Not interested.”
“Well, who’s to say I’m interested in you?” I counter, leaning back on my hands.
“You.” Harmony sits up straight. “You’ve said you’re interested. For the last hour, that’s all you’ve been, interested.” Yeah. No. In the last hour I’ve been horny, amused, horny . . . and well, horny.
“Clearly you don’t know how to read people. I’m not the slightest bit interested in you sexually. Now if you want to add me to your friends list, someone you call upon when you need your pussy licked, then by all means, add me to the list.”
She groans and flips to her stomach, lying across her towel and resting her cheek on her hands. “You’re exhausting.”
River shyly raises her hand. “Uh, can I get added to that friends list?”
“Self-respect, River,” Harmony mutters. “Good God.”
Chapter Six
**HOLT**
“I’m going to grab a drink. Do you guys need anything?” River asks as she stands. From the corner of my eye, past my sunglasses, I see Harmony watch my every move, as if to see if I’m checking out her friend as she stands and shakes sand from her body.
But I’m better than that.
“I’m good,” I say, my eyes trained on Harmony’s backside.
“I’m good too,” Harmony answers. Once River is out of earshot, she addresses my line of vision. “So are you just going to check me out for the rest of the day?”
“You’re lying on your stomach and your bikini bottoms barely cover your backside. Of course I’m going to stare, that’s until it gets to be too painful.”
“Too painful?”
“Yeah, boners hurt if not taken care of, Harmony.” I adjust my glasses and catch her staring at my crotch. “I don’t have a boner right now.”
“But you said . . .”
“Just to get you to check out my penis.”
Groaning, she turns away.
“It’s okay, you know. To hate me but crush on me.”
“I’m not crushing on you, and what happened to the evil asshole from last night?” she asks, soaking up the warmth of the sun on her back.
“He was drunk, so this is the real me.”
“I think I’d rather be talking to the other version of you. He was less annoying. Marginally,” she mutters.
“If I down a six-pack, will that make you feel better?” I ask, lying down with her but keeping my head facing her direction. When I poke her with my finger, she groans again and faces me, giving me a view of her pouty, mauve lips. Full on the top, slightly thinner on the bottom, and perfectly heart-shaped. I could think of some pretty sinister things to do with those lips.
“Yes, please go do that. Maybe you’ll forget where I am.”
“Nah.” I tap my nose. “I’ve got the nose of a bloodhound; I’d be able to find your scent anywhere.”
“Why does that sound so skeevy?”
“Are you picturing me with my nose in your crotch, like other dogs? Because it wouldn’t be my nose between your legs . . .”
“Yeah, I get it. You’d fuck me if I said yes.”
I chuckle. “Yup. But you would do the same if I gave you the thumbs up.”
She sits up on her elbows, her chest prominently displayed, and I might be seeing things, but is that a shadow of her nipple?
“Please, you have a thumbs up tattooed to your forehead.”
“You’d be surprised how long I can hold out.”
“Is that right?” She pats my forearm and says, “Then let’s have a competition; the first to give the thumbs up loses.” She rolls to her side, shifting just enough that I can see the entire front of her body. “Trust me when I say, you’re going to lose.”
“Can’t argue there, because I’m mentally giving you more than just a thumbs up right now.”
“You know, if you want in my pants, the best way to make it happen is to get to know me, rather than bombarding me with sexual innuendos and lewd once-overs.”
“I would hardly say they’ve been lewd once-overs, more like inquisitive.”
“Either way, wouldn’t hurt you to actually talk about something other than my body.”
“If that’s the case, the same things goes for you. Ever since I lay down my towel, I’ve been scandalized by your incessant staring of my crotch. The poor fella is so nervous that he’s started to crawl inside m
y taint, and if you’ve ever had that happen to you, you’d know that it’s incredibly uncomfortable.”
“Fortunately, I haven’t had that happen to me, given I don’t have a taint.”
“Not true, women have taints,” I say just as River shows up again.
“What the hell did you guys talk about when I was gone?”
I motion to Harmony. “Your friend here doesn’t think she has a taint.”
“Aren’t guys the only ones with taints?” Harmony asks, confused now.
River shakes her head and sets her drink in her cupholder that’s buried in the sand. “No, girls have them. It’s between the anus and the vagina.”
“If you spread your legs, I can show you exactly where, Harmony,” I suggest, taking one for the team.
She rolls her eyes. “Once again, walked right into that one. It’s fine, I’ll just feel around for it later tonight when I’m thinking about a shirtless Hendrix.”
River sighs before taking a sip of her drink. “Ah, Hendrix. God, he’s so handsome. What I wouldn’t do to ride his face. I want to know what it feels like to have that beard between my thighs.”
Mind exploding over the obsession with Gary Hendrix, I honestly cannot don’t see it.
“You like Hendrix too? What is with you two? The guy has dirt under his fingernails at all times.”
“I’m sure you do too,” Harmony counters.
I hold my hand out to her, flashing my nails. “Clean as fuck.”
“Did you get a manicure?”
“Fuck no. I might be clean-cut, but I don’t get that shit. I’m a ballplayer.”
She waves her hand about. “Oh, heaven forbid you show an ounce of femininity. It could make your penis smaller.”
I pretend to think about it. “You know, wouldn’t hurt to lose an inch; maybe I’ll get a manicure then.”
River snickers while Harmony turns away again.
“So, I take that as you’re not going to go with me to get one?”
“No way in hell.”
Chapter Seven
Team Player 2: A Sports Anthology Page 71
