Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Whit

"Prove he's your man. Kiss him."

I fight back the urge to knock Maricia back on her ass. Asking Kat to ‘prove' that we are actually a couple. And while I am at it I should probably kick my own ass since I am the reason poor Kat is in this whole situation to start with.

What the hell happened to keeping my distance and not going crazy over the fact every fucking male on my team has flirted and asked for Kat's number. Every fucking one of them. If I had known they would try to get in her pants like they were trying I would never have asked her to come. It was a stroke of genius to put her in my jersey. At least she was wearing my number when they all tried to hit on her.

And now, fucking Maricia. When she came up to me, I was eye fucking Kat, so I wasn't prepared for her leaning into me and asking me to go home with her…yet again. I've turned her down a number of times and she just will not take no for an answer. I have never given her the slightest glimmer of encouragement and go out of my way to try to stay away from her. If anything, she is like nails on a chalkboard to me, the equivalent of chewing on aluminum foil. And when she calls me Whitley I want to vomit. I fucking hate it.

"So prove it, sweetie. If he's your man…kiss him."

"Is that all?"

Maricia's eyebrows go up and I start paying better attention to what is being said and done.

"Excuse me?"

"Is that all it takes to prove he's mine to you?"

The annoying woman gets a self-satisfied smile on her face never suspecting Kat will do what she does next. Kat shrugs like it's no big deal and turns to me. Then she is hopping in my arms, and I'm suddenly being kissed by my little redhead. Our mouths meld together, and she uses her lips to show me she is in charge. And for a little while, I let her, but not for long.

Soon, I can't let her keep kissing me and not take the opportunity to thoroughly explore her mouth. I use my tongue to nudge her lips open and dive into her silky cavern. Her bravado only goes so far, and it's not long before I realize that this tiny woman up in my arms, isn't used to kissing.

Another idea comes crashing through my head at the same time Kat's shy tongue tentatively starts touching mine. What if…she's not unused to kissing but what if she's never been kissed before? What if I am her first? The thought makes me rock fucking hard.

By the time we come up for air, my hands are on her ass holding her up so both of us can reach one another. The buttery soft material of her leggings reminds me she is very different from me. There is hardly anything on me that could be called soft and almost everything on Kat is that way. Her arms have worked their way around my neck like her legs have wrapped around my body so that she is all around me, clinging to me like she might want me as much as I want her. Both of us are pressed close to one another.

We pull back a little more from one another only to find Maricia is gone, and all my team members are watching us make out. The assholes start clapping when we are done. Cheers start, and some of them call out encouragement.

"Take her home, Whit!" "Show her who's boss!" "Make him beg!"

Assholes!

I look into her stunned eyes and remorse hits me immediately. I should not be toying with this woman. The conversation I had with Spade comes back to me like wisps of smoke from an inferno. Forever kind of girl. God damn it.

"We should talk."

She quickly wiggles in an unspoken request to sit her down. Before I can try to spirit her away, the guys are asking her to come with us to our after-game dinner. She turns to look at me like she is looking for my approval or permission to say yes. When I don't say anything, she turns back to the guys.

"I…should be getting home, guys."

"Oh, come on, please come out with us."

"Yeah, you got to come out with us now that you and Whit are an item. It would be wrong for us to go out and you not come with us."

She starts shaking her head and backing up and ends up backing right into me. "Oh, uh…"

"Why don't you grab something with us?" I ask and lean forward so I can whisper in her ear, "We can talk later. The guys really want you to come."

"The guys?"

Yeah, even she doesn't believe the shit I am slinging. It's not just the guys. I want her to come too. Probably more than they do. But, for now, it's easier to tell her the guys want her there.