Personal Foul Excerpt

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“Stand up and make some noise for your Miami Blaze,” the announcer sings overhead as the lights start to dim under the darkness. The crowd cheers as flames shoot out near the basketball hoops. 


“What number is he again?” my friend Kaylee asks, leaning over. 


“Three!” I shout back, using my finger to point out which one he is standing in the starting lineup with the spotlight shining overhead.


“Ohhhh, giiiiiirl,” she jokes. “He sure is cute!”


“Yeah.” I laugh. “He uses it to get what he wants, too.”


He bends down, stretching his legs from side to side as he reaches his arm across his chest to loosen up.


My job has its perks; we were able to get third row, near the courtside. Even from here, I can see the ropes of his muscles flex with each movement. Tattoos cover the length of his arm. His tattoos paired with his deep orange jersey is a huge turn-on to me. 


“Don’t act like you’re not as thirsty for it as he is,” she jokes.


“And now, for the first time on the court with the Miami Blaze, from Denver, Colorado, give it up for number three, Colsonnnn Ruuuush,” rings throughout the arena.

The mention of his name at his first game in Miami sends the crowd into a frenzy. 


Once they’ve finished all the team introductions, the lights turn back on, and it’s then when Colson is finally able to spot me in the crowd. He flashes me a wink. I fully expect it to go unnoticed by the rest of the crowd, but of course, nothing gets past Kaylee.


“Did you see that? He’s not even waiting until after the game is over.”


“You’re ridiculous.”


“Psh, keep downplayin’ it like I don’t see what’s going on. You’re into him just as much as he’s into you. Quit tryin’ to fool me.”

“Shh, will you be quiet?”


She scrunches her face, rolling her eyes at me as she brushes me off but doesn’t say anything else. 


Tip-off starts, and from the very first second to the end of the game, Colson has a hot hand. Halfway through the third quarter, he’s already hit a triple-double, and the crowd is starting to chant his name.


They are playing against New York tonight, and it appears their defense forgot to show up. 


“Damn, girl, your man has earned himself some of that good lovin’ tonight for how great he’s played.”


“He’s killin’ it. I’m so happy for him. It’s his first game here, and there’s a lot of pressure, ya know?”


“I think this shows he is loving it here in Miami.” She bumps her shoulder against mine, just as Jaxsen Wild knocks down another three-pointer. 


She’s right. He’s playing great; honestly, the whole team is on fire. Colson set the tone for the team from the very first possession, and my mind is already brewing up ideas to congratulate him on a good game. 


They end the night with a score of 104-87, 37 of the points were from Colson alone. I consider waiting for him outside of the players’ locker room but decide against it.


We are heading toward the front of the arena, my mind brainstorming all the ways I could surprise him when I get an idea to swing by the fan shop and buy my own Rush jersey. 


Kaylee is staring at me like the cat that ate the canary when she watches me point to the jersey with his name on it, handing over my card to make the purchase.


“Hell, he probably would’ve given you his jersey if you wanted one so bad.”

“I have an idea, and if I want to surprise him, I can’t wait for that.”


“Mmmhm.” She wags her brows at me. “I see you. I can only imagine what you plan to do to surprise him wearing his jersey. Men eat that shit up.”


I know I have a little time before he ends up coming home. The players usually shower in the locker room and get cleaned up before they leave. I’m sure he’ll have to stick around for some media interviews, too. 


It’s just before eleven, and I’m starting to get tired when I get a call from Antonio down in the lobby. I had let him know I was waiting on Colson and he promised he’d call me when he saw him come in. 


“He’s heading up the elevator now, Ms. Carr.”


“Thank you, Antonio.” 


I quickly hang up my phone and toss it on the couch, not bothering to pay attention to where it lands. My adrenaline spikes as my heels click on the tile floor, walking through my dining room to my door.


This is a bold move, but Colson makes me feel bold. He also makes me feel confident and sexy. He’s been going out of his way to show me how much he wants me. I’m eager to chip away at his calm and cool exterior and see if I’m able to make him crack.


Opening the door, I adjust the jersey making sure it’s covering just enough to pull off the look of a dress. I didn’t intend for it to be, but I knew after seeing the way he looked at me in my office, he’d appreciate seeing my legs in the black heels I’m wearing for him. Leaning against the door frame, I watch as the lights blink above the elevator, bringing him closer and closer to me. When the doors part and I see him standing there, dressed in his fitted suit and his gym bag hanging from his shoulder, I can feel the heat pooling in my tummy. 


His eyes widen, taken by surprise when he comes face-to-face with me, but when his eyes fall to the jersey with his number on the front, his jaw drops open.


One point for me.


His eyes stare at my legs, my right leg crossed over my left. 


“Nice shoes.”


“Thanks, I thought you might like them. They go well with the outfit.”


He smirks, and a grin breaks out across my face.


“I have to agree with that statement. Were you waiting for me?”


“No, I just like hanging out in the hallway with nothing but your jersey on. Seemed like a pleasant way to greet the neighbors.”


“Well, are you going to greet me?”


“Of course, but to properly greet you, I’m going to have to ask you to come inside.”


“Is that right?”


Pushing off the door frame, I take a step into my apartment, careful of how I walk so I don’t give anyone else who may be looking out their peephole a show they may not have expected to receive.


When I glance over my shoulder to make sure he’s following me, I notice his eyes are falling on where the edge of the jersey hits my upper thigh.


Holding the door open for him, I stand back and wait for him to walk through. He doesn’t wait for me to close the door behind him, dropping his bag just inside the doorway as he turns to kiss me. His hands are pressed against the side of my face, holding me as he pushes me back enough to let the door close behind him.


He doesn’t stop kissing me, even when his hand reaches behind him to click the lock into place. He leans back enough to look down at me, biting his lip as he shakes his head, unable to believe what he’s seeing.


“I need you to do a quick little spin. You know, give me the full 360 like those models do.” He chuckles.


“Oh, you want me to model for you?” 

He raises his eyebrow, shrugging before he nods his head yes.

Reaching for his hand, I lead him down the hall toward my bedroom. He laces his fingers in mine, using his other hand to unbutton the front of his suit jacket. It’s a shame he isn’t wearing a suit and tie every day, even if he does look damn fine on the basketball court.

When we enter my room, he pauses to glance around the space. I know him well enough by now to recognize he’s using it to peel back another layer of who I am.

Leading him over to the foot of my bed, I push him until he’s reclined back on his elbows. His suit jacket falls open, and my eyes burn into him and the perfectly fitted dress shirt he’s wearing underneath.

I’m itching to get my hands on him, but I need to hold up my end of the deal and give him the full modeling experience.

Running my fingers through my hair, I toss my long locks over to the side, giving it a wild look. Turning so my back is facing him, I saunter along the hardwood floors of my bedroom, pausing to reach for the hem of the jersey, lifting it to show him the new orange panties I purchased recently. After the way his eyes lit up in my office at the sight of my red ones, I knew I needed to get a few more.

I’m glad I did. Seeing his nostrils flare and his jaw clench, give me just the reaction I had been hoping for. His eyes are laser-focused on my every move as I continue to turn so my back is facing him. Bending down, I loosen the strap of my heels and judging by the string of curse words he muttered, my little plan is working. Unhooking my shoe, I kick it off near my closet door, widening my stance before leaning over to my other foot and doing the same.

When I stand facing him, his fingers are pulling at his tie, loosening it. 

“No. That’s my job. You sit and wait.” 

His eyes widen slightly, the edge of his lip curls up before rubbing his lips together. I think it’s safe to say he’s enjoying how I’ve turned the tables and am now calling the shots.

Yeah, my plan is definitely working like a charm.

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© 2020 by Brooke O'Brien

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