Caspian (Carolina Reapers 8)

I jumped to my feet and tossed the ball at Maxim as everyone started to line up for the next play. “Really?” I locked my eyes on hers as I stripped my off shirt, throwing it blindly toward the sidelines.

Her lips parted as her hungry gaze skimmed down my chest, lingering on the bright swirls of color in my tattoos. When she reached the waistband of my athletic shorts, her cheeks pinkened, and she blinked quickly, jerking her eyes back to mine.

Caught you. A couple of steps, and I was up in her space. Looked like she wasn’t quite as unaffected by me as she liked to pretend. “What was that you said about not being distracted?”

She huffed a sigh and shook her head. “Like I said, I call not fair.”

“Depends on what you’re playing for, I guess,” I whispered, leaning down so my lips brushed the shell of her ear. In my peripheral, I saw Chuck gawking at us. “Personally, I’d play on the losing team again and again if it meant I got to get my hands on you like this.” My index finger ran down her spine, eliciting a shiver from Ryleigh.

“Stop fucking around with your girl, and let’s go!” Brogan shouted.

Ryleigh’s eyes went wide, but I just smiled and took my place on the line, this time letting my eyes drop to her collarbone and the lickable cleavage of her breasts just beneath it.

Two plays later, we scored.

The next play, I scooped Ryleigh into my arms before she even caught the ball, and took a five-yard penalty for interference. “Worth it,” I growled in her ear, nipping at the flesh as Chuck glared.

Ryleigh gasped. “Caspian,” she whispered, but was it in plea? Or warning? I couldn’t tell with her facing away from me.

“He’s watching,” I said under my breath before I let her go.

She glanced over her shoulder at me as she headed back to her huddle.

The next play, Ryleigh dashed past me, and I gave chase as she caught the ball, letting her get a few extra yards before I yanked on her belt just before the end zone.

Her team erupted in cheers and she raced back with the ball, high-fiving Chuck right before the huddle.

Chuck. What the fuck did she really see in that guy? He was a bully with an overinflated ego. My stomach churned when he tucked her under his arm in their huddle.

This is what you wanted. This was what I agreed to. I was just the snare, the flashing light that was supposed to bring his attention back where it belonged—to Ryleigh, and it was working.

“So, did your head make that play? Or your dick?” Sterling asked with a smirk.

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Come on, like you wouldn’t have given London a few extra yards?”

Sterling shook his head, backing away. “Nope. I would have given her the touchdown.” He gave me a salute and went back to his position.

“Because you’re both pussies,” Brogan muttered.

Maxim laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

Ryleigh came out of the huddle at a different position and left me to face off against Chuck, who sized me up like he was ready to roll.

So was I.

He fell back as the ball was snapped, then took the handoff from Hendrix and ran toward the opposite side of the field. I locked onto him like a heat-seeking missile and ran, eating up the ground with long strides along the line of the endzone as we took a parallel path. Guy was still in good shape, but I was in fucking great shape. There was no way he was getting past me.

His eyes widened the second before impact. I dove for him, knocking him off his footing and sending us both to the ground. The ball rolled loose as I jumped to my feet.

Chuck groaned, rubbing the spot on his ribs where I’d first made contact.

“Flag football,” Cannon reminded me as his mouth curved upward, glancing back down at Chuck. “But I would have knocked the shit out of him, too. He’s been staring at your girl’s ass all day.”

She wasn’t my girl, but that didn’t stop her from raising an eyebrow and gripping my elbow as I passed by, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

“You’re supposed to be making him jealous, not slaughtering him,” she whispered before plastering a smile on her face.

“He deserved it.” I shrugged and tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

She rolled her eyes and went to nurse his wounds, which only cranked up the unreasonable monster of jealousy that seemed to have taken up residence in my gut.

After another thirty minutes, we let them win—well, Sterling let them win by carrying London across the endzone under the guise of a tackle.

I knew I liked him for a reason. Did I hate losing? Of course, but I loved it when my baby sister won.