Desperate

Chapter 9

Shayla wasn't the only one teasing me about Wes anymore. Drew'd joined in now as well and I feel like in in the middle of a bad sitcom. Since I'm on the boys work schedule I basically don't do much. I've took up yoga though since I have free time, and I must say, I've been missing out. I feel so relaxed when I do it. It's not only a physical workout it's also mental.

    I was on the beach laying in the hot California sun when I felt shade fall over my body and some small drops of water falling on my skin. "Can you move? You're in my sun." I said not even opening my eyes.

    "I just came to tell you to put some clothes on before those horny teenagers have a heart attack." Wesley's familiar voice said.

    I opened my eyes to look up at him. He had his hands on his hips and was soaked. "Something tells me the teenagers aren't the only ones looking." I smirk up at him.

    "And something tells me it wasn't the teenagers attention you were trying to get." He matched my smirk.

    "What ever do you mean?" I played innocent.

    "Well I told you I was going surfing, and now you casually decided to go tanning in the most revealing bikini I've ever seen?" He's not as dumb as some might think.

    "If I was trying to get your attention, which I wasn't by the way, would this have been working?" I giggled.

    "Baby you always have my attention." He winked making me laugh even harder. "Are we still on for the game later?" He asked.

    "Duh! How else could I redeem myself after Kobe threw away the last game?" I put my hands out and he helped me up. I turned to pick up my things.

    "You never told me you had a tattoo?" He said running his finger over the tramp stamp I had on my lower back.

    "You never asked." I stood up holding my things.

    "Well I like it." He touched it again but this time he let his hand wander down more toward my ass.

    "We're in public Wesley." I smacked his arm making him put his hands at his sides.

    "You only call me Wesley when I get on your nerves." He pointed out as I started walking toward my car.

    "So?" I laughed.

    He stepped in front of me blocking my path playfully. "It kinda turns me on." He purred in my ear.

    "Can I get in my car now? I have to go get ready for the game." I bit my lip as he stepped away from me.

    "I guess." He smiled. "See ya in a little bit."

    I made a pout face and he shook his head chuckling as he pressed his lips gently to mine for a goodbye kiss. He departed and I watched him walk away. That boy has one nice ass. After he was out of my sight I got in my car and went home. Shayla was laying on the couch watching tv.

    "How was the beach?" She asked.

    "Hot." I laughed thinking about the beach being hot in more ways than one.

    "What times your fake boyfriend picking you up?" She asked.

    "Four, but I need a shower so can you pick an outfit or me?" I asked. "Just a Lakers shirt and some jeans."

    "Sure thing jelly bean." She said. She's so weird sometimes.

    Wes showed up just as I was lacing up my high tops. Shayla let him in and they talked while I finished what I was doing. Then we both told Shayla bye and walked to his car hand in hand. He was wearing a Bulls jersey with his last name above the number three, jeans, and black and red Jordan's.

    "Are you checking me out right now?" He laughed as he caught me.

    "No I was just admiring your choice of footwear." I waved my hand.

    He shook his head knowing very well that I was indeed checking him out. He opened the car door for me and I got in. "So does your tattoo have meaning?" He asked once he got behind the wheel.

    "Are you still thinking about it?" I laughed.

    "I was just curious!" He said.

    "Well if you must know, when I was younger I was petrified of needles so getting at tattoo was my way of concurring my fear. That's why it says fearless." I explained.

    "That's pretty deep." He nodded. "Do you want more?"

    "Not particularly." I shrugged.

    The game was slow. The Bulls were running the court and scoring every time and it seemed like Kobe had his head in his ass. The seats were about the same as the ones I'd gotten for the last game. Wes had his hand resting on my knee and every now and then he'd squeeze my leg to calm me down when Kobe'd screw up.

    The Lakers lost again and this time Wes didn't only rub his jersey on my face. As we walked to he car he pulled me to a stop in front of a dark alley. He smiled deviously and pulled me into the darkness.

    "Wes what's going on? My mother taught me that guys who hang out in dark alleys are dangerous." I said as he pushed me up against the brick wall.

    "Put you're arms up." He said. I did as he said without question. He lifted my Lakers shirt over my head and threw it on the ground. Then he replaced it with his Bulls jersey leaving him in a black wife beater. "I just thought you'd like to support a winning team for a change. Still think I'm dangerous?" He asked letting his fingers linger on my stomach under the jersey.

    "Um, I think you, uh." I couldn't form a complete thought while he had his hands in my clothes with me.

    "You think I um?" He teased sliding his hands up toward my chest.

    "Wesley Stromberg?" I jumped at not only where his hands were but also the sound of a loud girlish scream realizing it was him.

    "Shit." He cursed. "Let's go."

    We ran down the alley and around the block avoiding the now pack of screaming girls chasing us. We made it to his car and into it breathing hard. He started driving quickly away from the crazy girls. After a few minutes I realized we weren't going to my apartment.

    "Wes were are we going?" I asked as he merged onto the highway.

    "My apartment." He said simply.

    Oh boy....