The Collection (Contemporary Reverse Harem 5)

Chapter 15

KEALY

Ijust barely avoided a broken nose.

That would have sucked. Seriously.

Shane, with all the patience I expected of a kids’ coach, was trying to help me make a basket. I held the ball above my head in the position he’d shown me. He stood behind me and with his hands over mine, guided me as I chucked the ball forward and up.

When it hit the rim of the basket, I was delighted. But when it ricocheted directly back toward my face, I ducked just in time.

Maybe basketball dates weren’t for me.

But hey, I was game for anything, so with several more tries, while remaining alert to potential nose-breakers, I actually got one in the basket. Well, it’s kind of overstating it to say I got it in the basket. At least fifty percent of the effort came from Shane. Maybe more.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t love having his arms around me. I played it cool, but I could totally tell he was smelling my hair when he spent so much time trying to get me to hold the ball just right. I had to admit, I messed up just a little to keep his arms around me.

I could be sneaky that way.

“Now, I’m gonna teach you how to steal the ball,” he said.

I was sure I’d shine at that, just like I’d shone at dunking baskets. Or dunking the ball. Or whatever the saying was.

No, I was not much of a sports fan. But when a gorgeous red head with a slightly crooked nose and heavy Irish accent came along as a bonus, I could suffer through most any athletic effort. Especially when it included strong arms around me.

So he was bouncing the ball around the gym, expecting me to run after him and somehow swipe it from his hands, which were moving at the speed of light. I think we both knew I wouldn’t be stealing much of anything, unless it was a kiss.

Speaking of which. Now that I wanted to kiss him, he was running away from me. Story of my life.

So, I feigned out of breath-ness. Doubled over, holding my side.

“I think I might have a bit of a cramp,” I lied.

“Oh, shit,” he said, dropping the ball. “Let me get you some water.”

That was cool. I’d take some water. But I had to remember I had a side cramp. That was the problem with lying. If you weren’t used to it—which I wasn’t—you got all confused and messed up your story.

But I had a feeling he’d forgive me if I said something contradictory.

I fake-limped over to the bleachers, doubled over and holding my side, and wondered if I should be moaning to come off as more authentic. If I’d had the time, I might have Googled side stitch, but he was back too fast with my cool water.

I gulped down what he’d brought me and took a big inhale.

“I think it’s going away. Thank you for the water,” I said, looking up at him.

How long was I supposed to be incapacitated by pain? Dammit, I didn’t know. That was why people shouldn’t lie. Or it’s why I shouldn’t lie. I sucked at it.

Oh, fuck it.

I popped up and placed a hand on either side of his rugged face. He didn’t have the usual model looks, aside from his height, but when you put all the pieces of him together, you ended up with something very appealing.

Very.

And he seemed to like that I’d recovered so quickly because in an instant, his lips were on mine.

Good lord, he smelled great—a combo of spicy, clean soap mixed with the lightest bit of basketball perspiration. It was so goddamn manly. And he tasted like mint, maybe from toothpaste or mouthwash, I wasn’t sure. But my head grew light, and if I didn’t get something to lean against soon, I might be toppling over. And not from a side cramp.

He pulled back from our kiss to look at me. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever gotten a compliment quite like that, which was so visceral and unplanned and goddamn sincere. I wanted to melt into his arms. He believed in me, was handsome, and had three other gorgeous friends.

Oh, shit. Did I just say that?

I couldn’t date four guys, whether they were friends or not.

But I’d worry about that later.

I sank my lips into his soft mouth and inhaled enough of him to know I wanted more. But we were in the damn community center. There was no one around, as far as I could tell, but I didn’t want to get down and dirty in freaking public.

Or did I?

“Hey, is there someplace a bit more private that we could go?” I was trying to be sultry, but my heated, red face gave me away.

Of course, Shane was too polite to notice, or even mention, my blushing problem.

“I know where we can go. C’mon,” he said, pulling me by the hand.

I grabbed my bag off the bench and ran after him in my high-top Chucks, which I’d worn just for our workout. I wanted to look the part. I did work in fashion, after all.

He led me to a men’s locker room, which I fully expected to be filthy and polluted with foul smells. But either no one ever used it, or the cleaning crew had recently been there, because it was cleaner than my own house.

Before letting the door swing closed behind us, I looked around to check for other people.

“Are you sure this is okay? I mean, where is everyone? Isn’t this a community center?”

“Yeah, but staff are here mostly when there are sports or classes going on. In the evening, if nothing’s on the calendar, everyone goes home.”

Oh. Well, then.

The locker room was the old-fashioned kind with oak lockers and benches, and a green tiled floor. In a far corner was a stack of white towels and next to it, a basket for dirty ones. As I followed Shane, I passed an old-school communal shower room, a bathroom with urinals, and a windowed room with all kinds of sports equipment.

Shane sat on one of the narrow benches running between a short row of lockers and pulled me onto him, forcing me to straddle his legs as I faced him. His mouth crashed into me with the fury of a starving man, and he gripped my hair so hard, the sting took my breath.

I ran my hands over his mountainous shoulders and down the faded old T-shirt obscuring his hard chest. My hands were trembling, and as he pulled me toward him and I ground against his growing erection, there was a flood of wet warmth in my panties.

Down, girl.

“Mmmm,” he murmured. “You smell so nice, and your lips taste even better,” he crooned.

And of course, I kissed him harder.

His hands wandered over the front of my blouse and began to pick at the buttons until I felt cool air on my chest. In moments, he’d pushed up my bra and began to nibble and suck my screaming nipples.

Good lord. I was only just getting to know this guy, and yet I was comfortable enough to mess around with him in the locker room of a community center. Couldn’t say I’d ever done that.

His growing erection pressed against me where I was straddling him and I couldn’t help but grind back. Was he going to think I was kinky?