Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(70)

Behind him, Oscar’s coach gets more insistent. He gives a dark look over his shoulder but turns disappointed eyes back to me. “Got to go. Feel free to look at my ass in these pants. I’m sure you’ll like what you see.”

A laugh bubbles up my throat.

He winks before turning around, and I do like what I see. I understand why people like watching football now. As he jogs away, he gives himself a tap on his ass, which makes me bite my lip. When he gets to his coach, he peeks at me and grins when he sees the dumb, sexed-up look on my face.

I stay where I am until halftime. I look around, surprised Magnum hasn’t made an appearance yet. It’s not like he wouldn’t be able to see me even if he stayed in the background. The place isn’t crowded, and I’m almost the only one clutching the fence. Maybe that’s what he’s doing. Giving me space.

Rawley Heights is winning. Or should I say Oscar is winning? He’s good. He wasn’t exaggerating, and even though I love to watch him play, it makes me sad too. His abilities are lost here. No one gives a fuck. No one, besides what looks like a few football parents or girlfriends of players, sit in the stands. I can’t see any of the administration. There’s no concession stand. No cheerleaders. There’s nothing.

And Oscar’s stuck. It’s bullshit is what it is.

I pull out my cell phone to see if I’ve heard back from Johnny. Surprisingly, there is a text there, but not from a phone number I recognize until I bring it up. It’s Mag. I’m giving you some time. If Johnny asks, I was with you the whole game. Don’t fuck this up.

I don’t know how to answer, so after deleting the text, I just put my phone back in my pocket. I figure if he really is being nice and wants me to have a little time, I’m not going to rat him out, so I’m certainly not going to leave evidence of what he’s doing on my phone.

“Kyla.”

I glance up. It’s Oscar. He cocks his head toward a small building on the side of the field then disappears behind it. I look around, everyone else is talking amongst themselves. The coach, in particular, is giving one kid the riot act about some dropped pass. I have to admit, I don’t remember what he’s talking about. I watched Oscar the whole time.

I make myself move toward the small building even though every fiber in my being is telling me it’s a bad idea.

When I come around the corner, Oscar is leaning against the back wall much like when I saw him the first time. Those initial feelings sprout up again. He’s so handsome. So dangerously sexy with his dark looks and badass attitude.

Except now, he’s in a hot as fuck jersey with tight ass pants on.

“Yeah?” I ask. Looking up at the building behind him, so I don’t have to look at his face. “What’s this building?”

“We keep equipment in here.”

For whatever reason, the area seems to block us from the rest of the world. We don’t hear the sounds on the field or the people watching. It’s just us.

“I thought you might want to makeout with the quarterback of a football team.”

My lips slide into a smile. “You just want to get lucky during halftime. Something to check off a to-do list.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’ve been noticing the way you’ve been looking at me. You’re practically salivating.”

“What can I say? I have a thing for athletes.”

He pulls me toward him. His pads hard against my chest. “We didn’t get to finish what we started earlier.”

My heart rate amps up. As much as I want to keep flirting with him, we’re treading the line of disaster. “This is a terrible idea, Oscar. Someone’s going to see us.”

“I don’t care. I’ve been looking from afar for too long.”

His skilled hand slides up my hip and just under my shirt. He presses his palm into my lower back and maneuvers his knee between my legs. “Oscar,” I warn.

Dark eyes devour me. “One taste,” he pleads.

We reach for each other at the same time, our lips colliding. He slides his knee higher and presses me down until a delicious friction starts in my core. I gasp between his lips, and he smiles. “I knew you’d like it on the bad side.”

“This is stupid,” I mumble against his lips.

“Very.” A moan breaks him off. “Fuck, Kyla. I can’t think straight.” His fingers trail under the waistband of my jeans.

He changes our position, gently pushing me against the side of the building.

“You know how much it sucks having a hard-on in a fucking cup?”

I grin. “This was your idea.”

“I just don’t know when we’re ever going to have time alone.”

“We’re not alone, Oscar. Your fans are in the stands.”

He looks bemused. “Hardly.” He pulls his hand out of the back of my jeans and passes it over my stomach until he’s inches away from my chest. “You’re hard for me.”

I take a quick peek, knowing full well what Oscar’s getting at. My nipples are pebbled, pushing against my shirt. Aching.

“I want to take them in my mouth, slide my tongue over them,” he groans.

I bite down on my lip. “Jesus, Oscar.” I drop my head back against the wall. My core is throbbing. I’m wired for electricity at this point.