Offensive Rebound

by Mj Fields

  “You ready, man?” Parker asks, sticking his head inside the bathroom.

  “Never been more ready.”

  Walking into one of the hotel’s restaurants and lounges, I immediately spot Courtney standing at the end of the bar with the same crew she’s been hanging out with, and James. She’s wearing a short black dress belted at the waist, showing off all those dangerous curves I’m going to be exploring tonight. Her shoes are sexy as hell—red stilettos—and her hair is down and pushed to the side, exposing her neck.

  Every part of me wants to make sure she’s marked by my mouth, my teeth, my lips, and my tongue when she wakes up tangled up in nothing but me in the morning.

  Christa waves to us. “Tabs open at the bar, players. The dining room is getting set up for us now.”

  I nod at the bartender, and when she approaches, I order, “Southern Comfort Manhattan.”

  I look at Parker, and he says, “Same.”

  When I pull out my money, the bartender points in Courtney’s direction, asking, “You with her?”

  “I plan to be, and that’s why I’ll pay for my own drinks.”

  I feel a hand on my arm and look beside me to see Courtney’s standing there.

  “Put their drinks on my tab.”

  I shake my head and lean toward the bartender. “I’ve got it.”

  “I’m the boss,” Courtney whispers.

  “Not right now you aren’t,” I tell her.

  “I’m hosting, which make me—”

  She stops when I step closer and whisper, “I’ll pay for my drinks. I’ll eat whatever you have planned for dinner, and then you’ll be on your back, serving me dessert.”

  She automatically straightens.

  I lean in closer, keeping my voice low. “And, Court, you’ll need to get used to me telling you what I wanna do to you.”

  “You don’t have to be so crude.” Her voice quivers.

  “And you don’t have to taste so fucking sweet, but you do, and I am, so just go with it.”

  She turns to walk away, but I catch the back of her dress, stopping her.

  “I’m going to fuck you harder for making me wait.”

  Again, her back straightens, yet she doesn’t turn around.

  When I release her, she walks away on legs that are no doubt less steady than they were when she walked over.

  I watch her sip on some pink drink out of a straw, and my cock stirs in my pants. I’m pretty damn happy I chose to let it hang tonight and not tucked away in some fucking cotton briefs.

  In the dining room, Courtney sits between her folks throughout dinner. She doesn’t drink a lot, but I’ve seen her buzzed before, and she’s getting to that point. She also doesn’t add much to the conversation, mainly watching everyone around her.

  The most amusing part of the night is watching Brock try to talk to her mother. The woman completely ignores him. Her stepfather interacts a bit, but he is very short and unengaging.

  That’s about all else I notice, except that Parker and Christa stare at each other the entire time. I would be lying if I said I could focus on anything other than Courtney for more than a few moments.

  After dinner is cleared, her folks excuse themselves as dessert comes out. She hugs her mom without the five second delay this time.

  She and Christa stand up, and James stands with them. I’m still don’t fucking like him, but for whatever reason, the uptight, opinionated dipshit seems to be a bit more relaxed now than I ever remember him being before.

  “Great game tonight, everyone,” Courtney says as she smiles at everyone, completely ignoring me. “We’re heading up to our room. Stay safe, and see you all in the morning.”

  “Oh, hell no,” I mumble and start to stand, but a big paw grabs my knee from under the table. “Parker, I like you a lot, man, but you need to remove your hand from my knee or I’ll stab you.”

  He holds up his phone and shows me a text.

  - Heading to Light. Hope you can join us.

  “Let’s eat cake, and then hit up Light,” Parker says as he puts his phone away.

  “I’ll eat cake if you take your paw off my knee. You’re making me hard.”

  ***

  WHEN WE ENTER LIGHT WITHOUT hassle, the man at the door nods and asks, “Looking for two ladies?”

  I nod. “Two very specific ladies.”

  “Black hair, black dress, red heels?”

  “Sounds right,” I say, tight-jawed. If he goes into any more detail, I’m going to knock his teeth out.

  “Private table is waiting on the dance floor. Down two flights then head right.”

  I hand him some cash and thank him.

  “This fucking place is too damn busy,” Parker comments as we walk toward the stairs.

  “Could make it interesting,” I reply as we walk down the stairs.

  As soon as I see her, she looks up. My pace quickens, yet I try not to appear in a hurry, though I am. I want her.

  I sit next to her and take the drink she pushes toward me. She already has three empties in front of her.

  Parker holds his hand out for Christa, telling her, “Let’s get the hell out of this place.”

  “I wanna dance.”

  “In those messages you’ve been sending, there was no mention of dancing.”

  “Well, sometimes we need a little...dancing.” She laughs as she drags him toward the dance floor.

  “You still afraid of me?” Courtney asks as we both look away from the couple.

  I push her hair out of her face. “No.”

  “I’m afraid of you.”

  “No beer muscles tonight?” I ask, glancing at her empty glasses.

  She shakes her head.

  I scoot in closer to her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”

  “Liking you too much,” she says then takes a drink.

  I turn her in her seat so she’s facing me. “You’re gonna like me even more when I’m inside you.”

  Her body grows taut. “You can’t say stuff like that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Well, now I’m going to have to do it more often to get you used to it; make you crave it, beg for it.”

  “Beg?” She shakes her head, and I nod.

  Then I toss back the drink and stand, holding my hand out to her. “Dance with me, and then we’re getting the fuck out of here.”

  When she takes my hand and stands, I pull her in front of me, my hands on her hips, as I lead her through the crowded dance floor.

  The place is insane. It’s called Light for a reason. The place is electrified with lights dancing everywhere and practically buzzes. The DJ is playing hip-hop, and not that techno shit, and there is so much going on around you...It’s just insane.

  They have Cirque Du Soleil performers moving to the music. Others are dressed up, walking around on stilts, and acrobats are hanging from the ceiling. There are screens everywhere with more lights. The place is big enough that you can actually dance and grind on who the fuck you want to and not everyone else.

  I get us into a corner, where the only thing behind us is a wall of glass with built-in lights. Then I pull her tight against me, pressing my cock against her back.

  I place my lips on her neck, just below her ear, smelling her sweet scent and tasting her skin, which makes me hungrier. When I move down her neck slowly, her hum vibrates against my lips.

  I move back up her neck and tell her, “Feel what you do to me? You and I need to get out of here soon, or I’ll be fucking you right here, and I won’t give a damn who sees it.”

  She stiffens, and I spin her around, pulling her hard against me. She gasps, and I seize the opportunity to kiss her hard on the mouth, but she pushes against my chest and pulls back.

  “Someone will see.”

  “Good.” I kiss her again as I take her hands and pull them up around my neck.

  Her fingers dig into my neck as she pushes her tongue into my mouth. I gently suck on it then pull back.

  “I can’t wait u
ntil you do that to my cock.”

  Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth. Again, I take the opportunity to move in. Our lips touch, and she licks my tongue, then slowly sucks on it this time.

  When she pulls back, her eyes seem to be asking a question.

  “Yeah, Court.” I nod. “Just like that.”

  As the music slows down, she sucks on my tongue again then pulls back, dragging her teeth lightly down it.

  “Starving.” She says the name of the song that describes exactly how we both feel.

  I run my hand up her sides as I dip my head down and run my tongue across the exposed swell of her breast.

  “I’m going to lick every part of your body until it’s so overstimulated you feel almost numb.”

  “Trae...” she moans in a quivering voice as I run my hands back down her arms, down her hips, and then bend so my fingers run up and down her thighs while I kiss her hard, hoping to bruise those pretty fucking lips.

  “I’m so fucking hard, I think I’m gonna fucking explode.” I take her hand and place it between us, rubbing it up and down my cock. “Just a thin layer of material between you and the best fucking night of your life.”

  I kiss her neck and pull her closer as she rubs me up and down on her own now.

  When she moans, I tell her, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  She nods and starts to turn, but then stops. I look to see what causes this interruption and see Christa walking quickly toward us, Parker behind her, and behind him is Brock.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Wasted

  COURTNEY

  YOU KNOW THE SPACE BETWEEN wasted and drunk? Well, that’s where I am when I see Christa and her “Oh, shit” face. The same one she has had since middle school whenever we get busted. And I start laughing when I see why.

  Brock Boeheim.

  I look back at Trae when he tightens his grip on my hips. I know taking myself out of the equation, things won’t be as tense.

  “We have to pee,” Christa says when she makes it to us, trying to pull me away from Trae.

  “We do?” I ask.

  She nods. “We do.”

  I try to pry Trae’s hands off my hips, looking back at him again when he refuses to let go.

  “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “I’ll take you,” he states, nostrils flaring.

  “Christa and I will be fine.” He still doesn’t look at me, his focus all on Brock. “Trae Rhodes.”

  He finally looks down at me, eyes narrowed.

  “That was so last season. I’m over it, okay? Can you get over it, too?”

  He nods.

  “Okay, we’ll be back.”

  We follow the signs pointing behind the glass wall to the ladies’ room. Once inside, we both start laughing.

  “Why are we laughing?” I ask.

  “We’re drunk? We have two hot guys waiting in the club? You own a fucking basketball team? Any of those things is laughable.” She looks in the mirror. “Look at us, Courtney. Who the hell are we?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or not, but I like what I’m seeing. I like who we are right now.”

  “Me, too!” She laughs and hugs me. “How did this happen?”

  I take a deep breath and shrug. “My dad?”

  “We owe him a fucking drink.” Her tone is totally serious.

  I nod with a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

  “We need to pee and get the hell out of here.”

  She and I both take a stall when I hear her laugh again.

  “I’ve been with a couple guys, but none like him. I’m terrified he’s going to damage my goodies.”

  She’s worried about her body while I’m worried about my heart. She was never into any of the guys she’s been with. She has never been in love, never had someone’s attention focused solely on her, not the assholes at our prep school. They were more interested in augmented breasts. Christa is beautiful, but small and quirky.

  “Hello! What am I gonna do?”

  She’s in front of the mirror, fisting her hair, when I walk out of the bathroom stall.

  “Get shitfaced?” I suggest. “That’s what I’m about to do.”

  “Let’s go,” she says, taking my hand.

  Through the glass wall, I see Brock and Trae toe-to-toe, both yelling at each other. The music is too loud to hear anything, but I know they aren’t kind words.

  I run as fast as these stupid heels allow and stand between them.

  “Don’t fucking do this, Courtney. He’s a fucking punk!” Brock tries to further incite Trae.

  I ignore him, keeping my back to Brock as I grab Trae’s forearms. “You ready to get out of here?”

  When Brock grabs my shoulder, trying to turn me around, Trae hits him hard in the shoulder. The move presses us all closer together, making me literally stuck between them.

  “You don’t get to touch what’s mine,” Trae hisses.

  Brock swings at him, and I try to block it, but end up getting hit in the shoulder. It hurts, but adrenaline and alcohol make a mighty mixture.

  Trae catches me when I fall back. Then he tosses me like a rag doll to Parker before diving on Brock.

  “No!” I yell, pulling away from Parker, only to be grabbed by Coach Landry who I hadn’t seen, but hell, I didn’t know any of the team were in the club.

  “Get her the fuck out of here,” Landry snaps at Parker as he starts pulling Trae off Brock.

  Parker grabs me around the waist and throws me over his shoulder, holding me in place with one arm while dragging Christa behind him with the other hand.

  I watch as half my team ends up in a pile in the middle of the dance floor, looking like a bunch of football players instead of basketball. It’s such a mess that I can’t tell who is on whose side: Trae’s or Brock’s.

  “Let me down now, dammit!” I pound on Parker’s back as he takes the stairs two at a time.

  Once outside the club, he sets me down.

  “They’ll be fine; just chill.” He motions to a cocktail waitress, grabbing three light blue, almost glow-in-the-dark shots off the tray she is holding then passing them around before holding his out like all that shit didn’t just happen. “To us.”

  I don’t feel like doing a damn toast, but I do feel like drinking, needing to take the edge off, so I take the shot. Then I look down and kick off the one shoe I still have on my foot, wondering when the hell I lost the other one.

  I pace and do shots for what seems like forever, but know it’s been less than ten minutes. I try several times to get back inside, thwarted by Parker every time.

  Eventually, Brock walks out with Howard, Johnson, and Stalks, walking right up to me and saying, “He’s fucking using you, and I know you’re using him to get over me.”

  Enraged and drunk, I spew, “You asked me to marry you when I had just lost my father! You and I didn’t even know each other! If there’s anyone getting used, it was you. I needed an escape.” I don’t yell the last part because it’s real and hurts to admit. Then I get pissed again and poke him in the chest. “And you! You used me to get control of the fucking team. You were piling up investors to buy it out from under me. Well, look at me and hear what I have to say. This is my team. The Stable is my home. You’ll be lucky to get two more years there.”

  “And what the fuck do you think he’s trying to do? He’s trying to piss me off. He doesn’t want someone like you. Fuck you! You ain’t shit!”

  I reach up to slap him, but someone grabs my hand.

  I look back at Parker.

  He shakes his head. “He ain’t worth it. Let him bury himself.”

  “Why don’t you go back to the fucking ghetto, Parker,” Brock snaps. “This is my fucking team.”

  At that moment, Landry walks out with Trae.

  I look at Landry. “Will you get him out of my face before I have him arrested for harassment.”

  Landry nods, telling all of them, “Let’s go. All of you, b
ack to your rooms.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Brock laughs at him.

  “I’m your coach. Now go.” He stares everyone down until they start moving. “Rhodes,” Landry calls from over his shoulder.

  “He’s with me,” I tell him, taking Trae’s hand.

  “For how fucking long?” Brock starts to laugh as he walks away.

  “For a season,” I reply. The reality of those words hurts more than they should.

  Trae looks at me and sighs. “You okay?”

  “I’m pissed.” I point at the retreating team. “So pissed.”

  “Pissed makes for good fucking.” He puts his arm around me, holding up my other shoe. “These shoes are gonna stay on for now. Let’s go tear each other apart.”

  Me and Christa laugh.

  As we walk toward the escalator, I look up to see blood on his lip.

  “I hate him for hurting you.”

  “Don’t give him that power. This shit will heal. Until then, there are other parts of my body you can kiss.”

  I grin, shaking my head, while he laughs and nods his.

  “We good?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I rub his lip gently with my thumb. “We are.”

  We walk through the casino to get to the elevators, but I stop when I see Coach D sitting at a table with his head down. He doesn’t look well.

  “Hold up,” I tell them, turning to go talk to him.

  Trae stops me from walking toward him. “What the hell is he doing?”

  “Playing cards,” I suggest as a joke.

  He nods, staring at him. I don’t know what he finds so interesting, but he doesn’t move.

  Parker grabs a few drinks from a passing waitress. Trae then breaks out of his trance to throw some money on her tray and takes a few more, handing me one.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Jack and Coke,” the waitress replies with a smile before walking off.

  Christa grabs one and tosses it back. I almost laugh, knowing she’s purposely trying to get loaded.

  “You two hang here for a minute,” Trae says to me and Christa. “I wanna go see what the old man is up to.”

  He nods at Parker, who rolls his eyes. “I have fucking plans.”