Fallon #2
“Don’t show me that dimple right now. I told you, I’ll sit on it,” I threaten.
His eyes light up. “Works for me. It’s a date.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down. “What time should I come by for the dimple riding tonight?”
“I have Harper’s game, and then she’s with me tonight, remember?”
“Hmm, then you’ll have to sit on my face in the car.” He flicks his tongue suggestively.
That does sound good. His annoying compliment about my pickleball play is immediately forgotten.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I mumble.
He blows me a kiss before we get back to the situation at hand. I return one that just goes over the net. The old bag pounces on it and slams it at me for a winner.
Jett looks at me. “Good tr—”
“Don’t tell me it was good,” I snap. “Give me the truth.”
“Try to take it deeper,” he instructs.
I raise an eyebrow and mumble, “I don’t think I can take you any deeper.”
I see him shaking in silent laughter.
“Focus, Jett. I want to win,” I spit out.
He smirks. “As you wish.”
We win the game, no thanks to me. I could be so good at this with a little practice. Maybe I’ll take a few lessons…just to learn where and when to make certain shots. Tanner may be right. I can see where this sport could become a little addictive.
As we’re walking off the court, I see Darian and Jackson walk into the pickleball area. Her eyes brighten when they find me.
She immediately runs over and hugs me. “I didn’t know you played.”
“It’s my first time. Full disclosure, Tanner warned me not to play with you.”
Jackson bites back his smile while he shakes Jett’s hand. “My wife is a bit competitive at times, but we can play for fun too, right, sugar?” he asks as his eyes move to Darian with a little amusement.
She shrugs. “I’ll try to play for…fun.” She says fun like it’s a dirty word.
I look at my watch. “I can play one more game before I need to get showered and get going to Harper’s game.”
Jett whispers, “She’s very good. Hit the ball to him. He’s not as competitive as she is.”
Jackson pulls their paddles out of his bag. “Be careful, Fallon, my wife is a banger.”
“I know, I’ve been out to dinner with you two several times,” I deadpan.
Darian and Jackson disappearing mid-meal to go have sex in restaurant bathrooms is normal for an evening out with them.
Darian lost her first husband about fifteen years ago.
She and Jackson have been married for a little over a decade, but they act like horny teenagers.
I like to make fun of them, but in reality, I’ve always been jealous of what they share.
Their passion and love are always on full display.
Her getting a later-in-life second chance at love has always given me a little hope.
I turn my attention to Jett, realizing I could see us behaving that way in a decade. We share a chemistry and passion I’ve never felt before.
Relax, Fallon, it’s only been a few months.
“What?” he mouths as I continue to stare at him after Darian and Jackson begin warming up. She’s treating it like she’s in the military. Hmm, I need to beat her.
I whisper to him, “If we win, I promise I’ll sit on your face next time we’re together. And another whipped-cream bikini will be in your future.” I need to do something to poke the bear. He’s too damn relaxed when he plays.
He pulls me into his body, but I squirm, trying unsuccessfully to push him away. “Don’t, I’m all sweaty.”
He slowly licks up my neck. “I like the taste of all things Fallon, and it’s a deal. I’ll be sinking my face into your pussy all night long. All kinds of cream will be involved.”
Goosebumps spread over my entire body at his touch and his words. A small throb begins to take place too. His control over my body is both exciting and terrifying.
We begin the game, and Jett returns Jackson’s serve with a missile, securing us the serve. I pump my first, and he smirks at me. “My girl loves it when I drive it down the middle.”
I toss him the ball so he can serve. “I like playing with your balls too,” I respond. “Now get to work. Show me what a stud you can be.”
A little promise of face sitting and whipped cream was all Jett needed to turn on the…jets. Jackson and Darian are both very good players, much better than Double Dees, Granny, and me, but my man is a Hall of Fame professional athlete with a crazy wingspan. They couldn’t get a ball past him.
Darian broke her paddle in frustration when we won the final point. It’s a good thing she had five more in her bag.
After a quick shower in the locker room, I walk out of his pickleball club with a huge grin on my face and a sexy superstar on my arm who happens to smell extra delicious right now.
He pulls me into his arms when we get to my car and softly kisses my lips. “You’re coming over tomorrow night, right?”
“Hmm,” I mumble into his lips. “Yes. I owe you for that game.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t know you were so competitive.”
“Of course I’m competitive.” I run my hands under his shirt and over the hard muscles of his stomach. “By the way, watching you kick ass is a huge turn on. I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye.”
“I could come to her game and feel you up under the bleachers,” he offers hopefully. Again hinting at meeting Harper.
I give him a small smile. “Not yet. Soon.”