Taking my hand from my breast I move it between my legs. Rubbing my clit, quickening my way over the orgasmic cliff I’m hanging on while he continues to push in and out with his fingers.
“Oh fuck, that’s hot. God, I’m so hard for you right now, Tensanne,” Kohl groans from the driver’s seat. Torn between watching the road and watching our hands work me. “Yeah, that’s it, work that clit, Baby. Come for me.”
His words are all I need to send me tumbling off the cliff into orgasmic fun town. My come floods his fingers drawing a scream from my lips.
Growling, he removes his hand, flexes his fingers, rolling his wrist, bringing his hand to his lips he licks them clean. Purring his approval as he savors my taste. I orgasm again at the erotic sight of him taking his pleasure from something so dirty.
Fixing my underwear and straightening my dress, I groan. Sucking my bottom lip, I see the bulging erection pressing against his zipper, my mouth waters for a taste.
“Don’t even think about,” he says with a chuckle.
“Think about what?” I ask, batting my eyes.
“I know that look,” he replies nodding to me. “It says I’m a steak and you’re a starving woman. As much as I love the feeling of your plump pink lips wrapped tightly around my cock, we are at our exit,” he groans, his voice laced with want.
Shit, I love his dirty mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Blow me, I am hot.”
—coffee mug
Tensanne
AFTER PARKING IN the nearest parking garage, we make the short walk into the stadium. Workers are bustling around, getting everything ready for the game that begins in a few hours.
“Where do we go?” I ask, picking at my fingernails.
Seeing a worker dressed in a suit coat, we approach. “Excuse me,” Kohl says.
“Yes, may I help you?” the man asks.
“I’m supposed to warm up with the team today and I’m wondering if you could direct us where we need to be?”
“Mr. Kohl Black?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Kohl boasts.
The worker’s cold frown breaks into a grin. “Welcome, welcome,” he cheers. “Please, come this way,” he instructs, leading us around the enormous hallways.
“Mr. Black, I will show you to the locker room and Miss, I will show you to your seat. Mr. Curry is already on the court warming up.”
Kohl’s eyes are as large as saucers, “Steph Curry is already out there?” he asks his voice cracking.
“Yes. This is a rare opportunity, Mr. Black. Usually, the only people we allow down on the court are Make-A-Wish or contest winners. You must be pretty important, or know someone pretty important,” the worker tells us ushering us along.
Kohl’s eyes cloud in confusion.
I’m as confused as Kohl. Archer never said this was a big deal or a special request. How well does his dad know the contact within the organization? I owe Archer big time for this one. Seeing the excitement in my man warms everything inside me, knowing I made him this joyful makes me the happiest woman on the planet. Plus, I’m vying for the best girlfriend award with this gift.
“Here is where you can get changed, Mr. Black,” the man instructs pointing Kohl toward the locker room.
Giving me a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ll see you soon, Ten,” he calls jogging through the door. I can’t help but laugh at the child-like enthusiasm that’s on Kohl’s face. This is his dream come true and I’m elated that I could provide it for him.
“Now, Miss . . . ,” the man waits.
“Craig. My name is Tensanne Craig,” I finish.
“Miss Craig, let’s get you situated courtside,” he nods leading me into the stadium.
The floor looks so much smaller in real life than it does on the television. Not that I have a ton of experience, a few times I have glanced up from the book I’m reading while Kohl watches a game. Music rumbles through the arena, bright lights flash on the Jumbotron over the court and people bustle everywhere getting everything set up.
One player stands in the middle of the court, sinking basket after basket from unbelievable lengths. It’s impressive.
The man leads me to a set of padded folding chairs, lined next to seats the players sit in.
“One of the best seats in the house,” the man smiles, “Mr. Black will join you once warm-ups have finished.”
“Thank you,” I call as he hurries away.
Settling in, I grab a paperback out of my purse and set to reading. I don’t even notice when Kohl comes on to the court. Basketball is not my thing. I love that my man is an amazing athlete and everyone on campus adores him for it but I’m not going to pretend to like something because he does. I’ll support him and cheer for him, comfort him after he has a shitty game and celebrate with him when he breaks his own records but I will not be fake. We promised to always stay honest with each other and I think he secretly likes that I’m not drawn in by his star status.
Submerging myself in the fantasy playing out on the pages, I don’t notice when someone sits next to me.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing sitting here all alone?” a deep voice rumbles next to me.
Turning to the sound, my eyes widen at the rugged alluring man sitting next to me. Tall, very tall. His legs stretched out in front of him go on forever. Dark skin, close-cropped hair, plump full lips turned up in smile and dark penetrating eyes that seem to be staring straight into my soul. Wearing warm up pants and a Pacers jersey, displaying the intricate pattern of ink that adorns his defined arms.
“I, uh, I, my boyfriend is out there warming up,” I stammer nodding to Kohl
