Oh, fuck. Foreman knew Amber was playing him, but God, he couldn't resist. Her soft, tender voice, nearly a playful murmur, turned him on so damn much, sending a tingle of arousal shooting through his body. Christ, yeah, he knew how she liked it, how she demanded--and got--whatever she wanted. Her kiss was just another reminder of how hard she liked it. It was like she was dying of thirst and trying to drink him. Her moan seemed hardwired to his cock, and she gripped his ass and pulled him against her, making the temptation worse. Fuck. If he had to talk himself down from an erection on the fucking basketball court, he would, but he was not going to give up just because Amber could put on the most provocative show he could remember.
She disappeared out of his arms like she'd been mist. Going for the ball. Foreman gritted his teeth and forced his body to behave. He didn't even listen to Amber exaggerating the score. This game needed to end, he needed to win, and then he was getting the hell out of all public areas, because Amber might invite his advances, but Foreman would actually like to be able to keep his membership to this gym.
Foreman tilted his head, gave Amber an exasperated stare, and then, before she could take another cheap shot, he grabbed her in another hug. She was slippery and wily as hell, but Foreman was tired of giving up his advantages. This wasn't about getting off, it was about wrestling the ball away from her--not even cheating, since even if they went by Amber's loose definition of the rules, it was his turn; he was just enforcing that. Once the ball had spurted free of Amber's grip, Foreman chased it down and immediately spun around to take his shot. The ball circled the rim of the net, but finally dropped in, giving him the chance he needed to run up and collect it again. He bounced it to Amber and then dived forward to steal it, practically in the same breath. Another point. "Game point," he snapped out, not angry, but making it damn clear that he was nearly done here. Grabbing the ball from Amber one last time, with one final flourish which she'd better appreciate, Foreman took his shot. It was beautiful, taken from just outside the foul line, spinning through the air and swishing neatly through the net. "Twelve to ten," he said, sarcasm strong on Amber's half of the "score", although he was too smug to make a huge deal of it. "I win."
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She disappeared out of his arms like she'd been mist. Going for the ball. Foreman gritted his teeth and forced his body to behave. He didn't even listen to Amber exaggerating the score. This game needed to end, he needed to win, and then he was getting the hell out of all public areas, because Amber might invite his advances, but Foreman would actually like to be able to keep his membership to this gym.
Foreman tilted his head, gave Amber an exasperated stare, and then, before she could take another cheap shot, he grabbed her in another hug. She was slippery and wily as hell, but Foreman was tired of giving up his advantages. This wasn't about getting off, it was about wrestling the ball away from her--not even cheating, since even if they went by Amber's loose definition of the rules, it was his turn; he was just enforcing that. Once the ball had spurted free of Amber's grip, Foreman chased it down and immediately spun around to take his shot. The ball circled the rim of the net, but finally dropped in, giving him the chance he needed to run up and collect it again. He bounced it to Amber and then dived forward to steal it, practically in the same breath. Another point. "Game point," he snapped out, not angry, but making it damn clear that he was nearly done here. Grabbing the ball from Amber one last time, with one final flourish which she'd better appreciate, Foreman took his shot. It was beautiful, taken from just outside the foul line, spinning through the air and swishing neatly through the net. "Twelve to ten," he said, sarcasm strong on Amber's half of the "score", although he was too smug to make a huge deal of it. "I win."