CHAPTER 6: EXTREME SPORT

MICHAEL

"Someone's gonna get laid tonight," Cole teased while sitting on one of the boxes they delivered to my cheap rented apartment.

Throwing him daggers, the bastard only laughed at my face. "If you're not going to say something necessary, you can get out of my place."

Raspberry, Cole stretched to his side to reach the neatly folded clothes Tasha left and smelled them. Perv.

"Hey, hands off."

Chortling like Santa Claus, he wiggled the skirt while making weird noises only a lunatic makes.

"Hey, Cole, if you're not going to help me with this couch, I'm gonna have your face shoved in Aaron's anus." His twin threw his shoes right at his face.

"What the--" Pointing his finger at Enzo, he lazily stood up and tossed the skirt at me. "Mr. Possessive is being sensitive whenever we talk about his 'the one that ran away'."

"Bet he would," Aaron snickered while pushing the new cabinet flat against the newly painted wall. "Who wouldn't get cranky after being celibate for months?"

Enzo laughed his heart out. "Celibacy? That's not very Michael Montero. The Mike I know sees sex as a sport."

It's a fact.

I always get what I needed as a man. But last night? I used my fucking hands while fantasizing about the woman who caused me a huge damned trouble.

Releasing a breath, I wiped my dirty hands with a towel and faced them. "Are you done in there?"

"I'm starving," Enzo replied, sitting on the brand new couch with his legs crossed.

"You always are," Cole retorted and plopped a pillow right on his face.

Aaron checked the cabinet before gathering in the small living room. "When are you going to meet the maiden?"

"In an hour," I replied. "That's why I want you all gone. Now."

Then the twins began complaining about their wasted efforts that didn't get paid.

As I entered the only room this place has, I took off my top and checked the time. Why do I feel pressured about meeting her?

"We're leaving!" Enzo shouted from the living room. "Since you're not paying, hope you suffer from celibacy in a year!" His voice was followed by the sound of a slamming door.

Fucking dickheads.

"A not-so-wise man said, he will find his lovely bride, drive her crazy in bed before forcing her to stand by the altar and finally get his money," Aaron, who decided to stay, recited while leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. "If so, what's with these?"

I watched him gesture around the whole place with his hands. "What's with what?"

"These," he repeated. "Moving in."

Transferring the clothes from the boxes to the cabinet, I chuckled to myself while fumbling for the right reason.

"You asked her for a date. Enzo said it, that's not Michael Montero's life," he said.

"She's currently living in the shadows of her believed freedom, let's not take that away from her yet. Besides, I think I'd like to play a game for a while."

"A game for you to play or to lose?"

Slumping my shoulders, I faced him with a deadpan look. "Look, I've got a plan. And as far as I know, this is my choice. No reason for you to meddle with it."

He scoffed and pushed himself away from leaning. "As if I didn't help you find her," he grumbled.

"You didn't because I paid you," I retorted. "Can you get out now? I've got a date to catch." Shooing him away, I entered the bathroom to freshen up and heard him curse at me.

Date. Michael Montero. Me. It was never the right combination from my perception. But right now, in the name of this vengeance, I have to walk down roads I was never fond of taking.

This was never my plan, but it's what's happening.

Women would beg me to please them, but here I am having a silly date with the young lady who awes me billions of apologies. Or if ever it's considered as a date.

She's leaning on the railings while watching the colorful fish under the bridge. She finds happiness in small things, the type who would cry just to show her appreciation if her grandma presented her with a knitted sweater.

Clad in a dress that seems to have been soaked in wine, her blonde hair dangles behind her back, and what makes my eyebrow arch, her face doesn't wear any colors.

"You're staring?" She said with a noticeable smile on her lips.

Caught red-handed, she can put me in cuffs. "Is it a crime to admire a good view when I see one?" Damn, that was lame.

My eyes fell to her lips that she bit when it was obvious that she was holding back a smile.

That was hot.

I'm pretty sure I'd make those luscious lips red and swollen if I were the one biting them, sucking them. Damn, I want her.

"Sorry," I mumbled, scratching the back of my head. "I'm usually good with words, but it's so weird that everything comes out cheesy when I'm talking to you."

Bursting out with a good laugh, she shook her head. "Am I not worth flirting with?" She asked, amusing my naughty side.

So, she wants me to flirt with her.

Pulling up one side of my lips, I felt my face heat up and the effect was shown on her blushing face.

"That came out wrong."

Letting out a chuckle and making sure it was sultry and smoky, I tilted my head to the side and fixed my gaze on her. "You set an attack, now you're pulling back. That's not how you play with me, Tasha."

Tasha, her name feels good to say. But I like my name better, especially when she gets to call it, chant it, and scream it.

My playful mind projected an unholy scene. Her, under me. Her, eyes closed. Her, mouth parted. While I ravish her, having her.

"Are you getting bored? Your eyes look sleepy," she noticed.

'No, Tasha, this is me having perverted imagination about you.' I wanted to say, but I held back. I wouldn't want to scare her. I'm not that heartless to give a young lady a heart attack.

But deep inside, I want to grab her in the parking lot, take her from behind, and wreck the hood of a car.

"I'm not really a nature lover," I honestly said.

She lifted her hand to brush her soft and silky hair back. My eyes followed every move she made, and everything she did made my pants feel tight.

She's so f-ing hot.

"What are your interests in life? I mean, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

'Sex.' That's the most entertaining thing I do every night. "Extreme sports," I answered instead.

It's like participating in a high-stakes horse race in bed, breathing as if I'm in a track and field competition, and then feeling the ultimate relief after reaching the climax, without even climbing a mountain.

"I like the adrenaline," I smirked, knowing exactly what I'm referring to. "What about you? Have you ever tried anything extreme for pleasure?"

"Me? Not really, but I'd like to see the world in my own way. I want to discover things for myself. I have a huge capacity for curiosity to feed," she chuckled. "If I learn something, that's where the pleasure comes in."

The breadth of her wonder about real life is as vast as her wild thoughts. Innocence is stained, and I enjoy willingly feeding her curiosity. Nine inches deep and she can choke on it.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but what if I asked you to experience something wild and extreme? Would you come with me?"