Completely self-satisfied, Foreman decided he'd be looking for pictures the first opportunity he got. If Amber's mom was anything like his, then she'd be dragging out every album from birth through her high school prom the second he expressed even the faintest interest, and Amber wouldn't be able to put the brakes on the tour down memory lane. Foreman could expect the same treatment if Amber ever met his parents, but his dad was stuffier, less likely to even know where the albums were...and his mom probably wouldn't remember, much as she would have gloried in showing off Foreman's baby pictures to a girlfriend even a few years earlier.
He looked down at his ball when she dissed it. Sure, the leather was scuffed to a lighter brown in a few places, and the lines were more like faint trails by now, but it was still perfectly serviceable, and familiar in his hands. "It's only a few years old," he said. Playing outside, on cement courts, during the summers had worn it down, and it wasn't like he used it every time--during his pick up games, somebody usually had a ball, and they didn't always need his. The point was it was a good ball, not how old it was.
The court was familiar, too. When the guys had it booked, they played full-court in the same gym. For their smaller game, they had a quarter of the big gym. Foreman recognized a couple of the other guys playing in the far corner, but only from a few games, no one he knew well enough to shout a greeting at. Besides, he needed all his concentration to keep Amber off-balance. No sooner had he caught his rebound when she advanced on him, her eyes telegraphing exactly what she was going to do. Go for the ball. They hadn't really started a game, but no way was that stopping her.
Laughing, Foreman turned his hip towards Amber, glancing over his shoulder at her as he deliberately dribbled the ball a little far from his body, making it about as easy to steal as possible. Her first few swipes he shrugged aside with his guarding arm. "Is that the best you can do?" he said, goading her after she swore. He switched hands, to give her a better chance at stripping the ball from him. Amber's next grab batted the ball out of his hands, and she approached the basket bouncing the ball with the flat of her hand, staring up as if she'd only make her shot if she positioned herself exactly right. Foreman didn't guard much except to raise his hands in front of her as she made a simple basket.
Foreman made a grab for the ball, but Amber got there first, before she marched purposefully to the free throw line, carrying the ball like it was a football. Foreman snickered so much he had to put his hands on his knees to support himself. "Okay," he said. "No argument here." Amber was staring at the rim of the basket as if sheer determination would let her sink every foul shot, and she was definitely the best sight on the courts. Her red tank top was a bright, vivid colour against her skin, and those yoga pants were still stealing more of Foreman's attention than could possibly be healthy. Foreman stood up and took his place in front of her, holding his hands out for her to check the ball. "I'm gonna enjoy guarding you," he said, desire smoothing his voice. Having her ass in his crotch while he leaned over her to steal the ball was not going to be any kind of hardship.
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He looked down at his ball when she dissed it. Sure, the leather was scuffed to a lighter brown in a few places, and the lines were more like faint trails by now, but it was still perfectly serviceable, and familiar in his hands. "It's only a few years old," he said. Playing outside, on cement courts, during the summers had worn it down, and it wasn't like he used it every time--during his pick up games, somebody usually had a ball, and they didn't always need his. The point was it was a good ball, not how old it was.
The court was familiar, too. When the guys had it booked, they played full-court in the same gym. For their smaller game, they had a quarter of the big gym. Foreman recognized a couple of the other guys playing in the far corner, but only from a few games, no one he knew well enough to shout a greeting at. Besides, he needed all his concentration to keep Amber off-balance. No sooner had he caught his rebound when she advanced on him, her eyes telegraphing exactly what she was going to do. Go for the ball. They hadn't really started a game, but no way was that stopping her.
Laughing, Foreman turned his hip towards Amber, glancing over his shoulder at her as he deliberately dribbled the ball a little far from his body, making it about as easy to steal as possible. Her first few swipes he shrugged aside with his guarding arm. "Is that the best you can do?" he said, goading her after she swore. He switched hands, to give her a better chance at stripping the ball from him. Amber's next grab batted the ball out of his hands, and she approached the basket bouncing the ball with the flat of her hand, staring up as if she'd only make her shot if she positioned herself exactly right. Foreman didn't guard much except to raise his hands in front of her as she made a simple basket.
Foreman made a grab for the ball, but Amber got there first, before she marched purposefully to the free throw line, carrying the ball like it was a football. Foreman snickered so much he had to put his hands on his knees to support himself. "Okay," he said. "No argument here." Amber was staring at the rim of the basket as if sheer determination would let her sink every foul shot, and she was definitely the best sight on the courts. Her red tank top was a bright, vivid colour against her skin, and those yoga pants were still stealing more of Foreman's attention than could possibly be healthy. Foreman stood up and took his place in front of her, holding his hands out for her to check the ball. "I'm gonna enjoy guarding you," he said, desire smoothing his voice. Having her ass in his crotch while he leaned over her to steal the ball was not going to be any kind of hardship.