Malory directed us to the front seats, which were to the right of the owner and his group, but separated by an aisle. “These are Killian’s and he wants you sitting here,” she said when I gave her a, “No I’d rather sit in the very back” look. Just as we took the proffered seats, the crowd started clapping and cheering. I looked down at the field and saw Killian, helmet dangling from his hand, leading the team onto the field at a steady jog. Oh my fucking my. In street clothes, he was a wet dream, but in pads, the number twenty jersey, and skin-tight football pants…totally cream-dream worthy. Damp hair hung just a little below his ears and was plastered to his head. He made the wet shaggy style look scrumptious. I continued to subconsciously drool as he sat on the grass, spread his legs, and stretched. “Heart attack here. Where’s the medic?” Amanda said in a low voice. Malory heard, laughed, and said too loudly, “We keep smelling salts on hand for just this purpose.” “I need some
Last Updated : 2024-10-29 Read more