Ha, he'd called it. Amber's game improved by leaps and bounds as soon as Foreman showed he wasn't going to take it easy on her. Sure, he was bringing the level of his defense down to practically nothing, but he wasn't holding back on scoring. Taking a few more chances than he normally would when he had teammates to pass to, but that was the fun of one-on-one. He was the only hero on his team, and if that meant boasting with a few showy attempts from the center line, then that was what he'd do. As soon as he lost control of the ball, Amber grabbed it and dribbled for the net like she had the ball attached to her hand. None of that stumbling, clumsy push-bouncing she'd been doing before. Despite his race to get his position back, he missed stopping her from scoring.
With a smirk, he took the ball back. Now that Amber wasn't pretending, he shifted his own game into a higher gear. Spinning lightly on his feet, he danced around her, not playing games. No more stupid chances; he took clear shots from close in, layups when Amber wasn't close enough to block him--which she hardly ever was. She fell for his fakes nearly every time, one telegraphed move giving him all the time in the world to sprint the other way and make the basket. On defense, though, he wasn't interested in stopping her. The more he stayed with her, the closer she rubbed up against him, giving him the occasional hip-check. God, he wanted to wrap her up in a bear hug and bury his face against her throat, taste the sweat shining in the hollow of her collarbones. The longer they played, the hotter he got, and it wasn't just because he had to work a bit now to keep up with her. Any time he let his eyes wander down her body, she managed to twist around him and score. Wasn't very good for his pride, but he'd rather watch Amber extending to make her shots, muscles working in perfect unison, than worry about who was winning a damn game. Foreman bumped up against her a bit more, nothing hard enough for her to call a foul, but just to put her off-balance again, the way she had been at first.
After they'd traded points back and forth, Foreman worked Amber back from the net, until she had to throw the ball away or give it up. It didn't even hit the backboard, going out of bounds at the baseline. Foreman gathered in the rebound and sprinted for the foul line, ready to take another quick point and get back to the game. He ignored Amber's hey, since he'd gotten wise to her distractions, and sighted on the net, lifting his hands and bending, ready to spring with a sweet shot.
The sudden flash of skin caught his eye just as the ball left his hand. His shot hit the backboard and rebounded, and Foreman barely noticed. "Jesus, Amber--" She was gorgeous, and she knew it, and after spending most of the game fantasizing about getting her clothes off and really getting in close, the combination was hotter than it had any right to be. But, fuck, they weren't alone in the gym, and Foreman spun around to check the reaction of the players at the other courts to seeing Amber in those skin-tight pants and a sports bra, her smooth stomach and the dip of her spine curving under her waistband showed off to the entire world. The guys across from them had definitely noticed; they'd paused in their game to grin and stare. Foreman glared at them, clenching his jaw, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. It wasn't like Amber was naked, or even like she was showing so much as to be scandalous. It was only that Foreman wanted to be the only guy she showed off to, not every random gym jock who happened to be staring.
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With a smirk, he took the ball back. Now that Amber wasn't pretending, he shifted his own game into a higher gear. Spinning lightly on his feet, he danced around her, not playing games. No more stupid chances; he took clear shots from close in, layups when Amber wasn't close enough to block him--which she hardly ever was. She fell for his fakes nearly every time, one telegraphed move giving him all the time in the world to sprint the other way and make the basket. On defense, though, he wasn't interested in stopping her. The more he stayed with her, the closer she rubbed up against him, giving him the occasional hip-check. God, he wanted to wrap her up in a bear hug and bury his face against her throat, taste the sweat shining in the hollow of her collarbones. The longer they played, the hotter he got, and it wasn't just because he had to work a bit now to keep up with her. Any time he let his eyes wander down her body, she managed to twist around him and score. Wasn't very good for his pride, but he'd rather watch Amber extending to make her shots, muscles working in perfect unison, than worry about who was winning a damn game. Foreman bumped up against her a bit more, nothing hard enough for her to call a foul, but just to put her off-balance again, the way she had been at first.
After they'd traded points back and forth, Foreman worked Amber back from the net, until she had to throw the ball away or give it up. It didn't even hit the backboard, going out of bounds at the baseline. Foreman gathered in the rebound and sprinted for the foul line, ready to take another quick point and get back to the game. He ignored Amber's hey, since he'd gotten wise to her distractions, and sighted on the net, lifting his hands and bending, ready to spring with a sweet shot.
The sudden flash of skin caught his eye just as the ball left his hand. His shot hit the backboard and rebounded, and Foreman barely noticed. "Jesus, Amber--" She was gorgeous, and she knew it, and after spending most of the game fantasizing about getting her clothes off and really getting in close, the combination was hotter than it had any right to be. But, fuck, they weren't alone in the gym, and Foreman spun around to check the reaction of the players at the other courts to seeing Amber in those skin-tight pants and a sports bra, her smooth stomach and the dip of her spine curving under her waistband showed off to the entire world. The guys across from them had definitely noticed; they'd paused in their game to grin and stare. Foreman glared at them, clenching his jaw, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. It wasn't like Amber was naked, or even like she was showing so much as to be scandalous. It was only that Foreman wanted to be the only guy she showed off to, not every random gym jock who happened to be staring.