“This isn’t a date,” she says softly.
“You don’t pay with me. Ever.” I kiss her temple and we head to the bleachers. “Same section?” I ask, bending so she can hear me over the crowd.
“Yeah.” She nods.
We reach the end of the section and Berklee heads up the steps. I fight like hell to not come off as a creeper and stare at her ass; her family is here, after all.
“Hey, baby girl,” her dad says.
He was at the last game, but I was a mere acquaintance then. At that time I’d not been inside her. Felt what it was like for her to be wrapped around me and let go. That changes things. So, tonight, I offer him my hand. “Good to see you, sir,” I say.
“You too, son. You two just get off work?” he asks.
“Yeah, we had bartending training all week,” Berklee explains.
“Oh, how did it go?” her mom asks.
“Sit, babe,” I say, pointing to the bleachers. She grins at me and sits next to her dad. I take the very end right beside her. Berklee is in full conversation with her parents, so I try to focus on the game until my phone vibrates. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see Zane’s name.
Zane: Didn’t know you were coming.
Me: Yeah.
Zane: Pussy whipped.
My finger hovers over the screen. I can’t help but chuckle because he’s right. Although it’s more Berklee-whipped, if you want to be one hundred percent accurate. It’s everything about her that draws me in: those curls, her lips, that tight ass, her personality. I could go on and on.
Me: Don’t knock it until you try it.
Zane: Is that you giving me permission to try Berklee?
Fucker! I clench my phone on my hands. I know he’s giving me shit, but just the thought has me seeing red. Leaning forward, I look down to where he’s sitting next to his parents. He’s laughing uncontrollably.
Zane: You’re face. Priceless!
Me: Fuck you!
I shove my phone back in my pocket and take a deep breath. Berklee must sense my anger, her small hand landing on my knee. She’s turned and looking right at me. “You good?” she whispers.
I want to kiss the hell out of her. Not a good plan with her parents sitting right next to us. I settle for a nod and slide my fingers between hers. She situates the Garrison blanket that she brought and spreads it where it’s not obvious that her hand is clasped with mine.
I don’t let it bother me that she wants to hide it. This was the deal. This is what I signed up for.
Only problem is I no longer like the terms.
Before I know it, it’s halftime and Berklee is standing. “Mags, I need to use the restroom. Walk with me?”
“I can go,” I say, tapping lightly on the back of her thigh.
She peers down at me. “It’s fine. You need anything?”
You. “No, I’m good. You need money?” I have this need to take care of her.
Her eyes soften. “No, but thank you.” She turns and asks the rest of our row if anyone needs anything. They all decline. I stand to let her pass by me, running my hand down her arm as she passes. I feel her shiver. Damn, she’s so fucking responsive.
I remain standing, stretching out my legs. “How are things at the club?” her dad asks.
Turning to the side, I answer, “Good. Opening night is next weekend. Things are really coming together.”
“Berklee keeps telling us to come by, but we don’t want to bother her while she’s at work,” her mom chimes in.
“You’re more than welcome anytime. Berklee knows her schedule.”
I turn back and survey the crowd, seeking her out. When I spot her I can’t help but grin. She’s a knockout, especially with the gentle sway of her hips when she walks. Fuck me, I want inside her again. My cock twitches at the thought.
“You’re fond of my girl,” her dad states.
Well fuck me. Nothing like having to talk with dear old dad while thinking about sliding balls-deep into his little girl.
“I am.”
“She know?” he asks.
Does she? She knows I want to fuck her and kiss her and touch her every minute of every damn day. And I think she knows that I value her as my right hand at Club Titan? But does she know that I long to have her in my arms at night? That she’s both my first and last thought each and every day? Doubtful. “No.”
He nods. “She’s my little girl.”
I know what he’s trying to say. “She’s safe with me,” I tell him. And she is. I’ll make damn sure of that.
“She is, but is her heart?” he manages to whisper just as Berklee and Maggie reach us.
“This is sooo good,” she moans as she takes another big bite of her walking taco. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“That good?” I manage to push the words past my lips. Her moan and those lips wrapping around the fork have me thinking about them around my cock.
“Mmmm,” she answers.
I can’t take my eyes off her. At least not until I hear a throat clearing, which snaps my attention back to her dad. He’s watching me intently, waiting for an answer to his question. “Is her heart safe?” Without hesitation I give him a stern nod. He does the same, turning back to face the game.
What the hell just happened?
Berklee blissfully finishes her walking taco and then covers back up with her blanket. Not able to resist, I slide my hand underneath and rest it on her leg. She bumps her leg against mine and a small smile tips my lips.
Loving my Berklee time.
This is how we watch the remainder of the game: legs pressed together, my hand on her thigh, her hand on top of mine. She cheers in all the right places, even jumps out of her seat every now and then, but she always snuggles back in next to me. I can’t tell you if we won or lost, but judging by the smile on her face right now as she throws her arms around my neck, I’d say Garrison took home another win.
“You kids coming to eat?” Berklee’s dad asks us.
I defer to her, knowing she’ll want to go.
“Of course. We’ll see you all over there,” she replies.
“Garrison!” Maggie cheers, wrapping her arms around Berklee.
“Come on, crazy. Let’s go eat.” Zane laughs at her.
“Hey!” Maggie swats his arm. “You’re cut from the same cloth, my dear cousin.”
“True that.” He grins. “Come on, I’m starving.” He rubs his belly, as if that will prove his point.
Berklee laughs. “We’re right behind you.” She turns to me, blanket in her arms, purse on her shoulder. “Ready?” she asks, her eyes smiling bright.
“Yeah.” Reaching out, I take the blanket from her and link her fingers through mine. Zane smirks and Maggie is grinning so big I’m afraid her face might split. Berklee, she’s all calm, cool and collected as she allows me to lead her down the bleachers.