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Chapter 10 - Adaline Seitz

The rough surface of the basketball court is grazing the bare soles of my feet while I drop into a guarding position, feeling the material of my dress steadily creep up my thighs as I do so. My breathing is shallow, my focus sharper than a razor blade directed towards the man bouncing the basketball with his left hand.

Hidden behind the purposefully hooded lids are his irises, their dark colour swallowed by the iniquity of his pupils packed with adrenaline. Some of his wild curls are sticking to the skin of his forehead, his full lips parting to let the crisp air in as he calculates the next move that will lead him to score a point.

His neatly ironed shirt is now decorated with a couple of wrinkles as it rests glued against his chest, making every motion of his pectoral muscles prominent while he controls the ball. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his neck before getting devoured by the dampened fabric of his collar.

Like a meteoroid flashing across this night's sky illuminated by glimmery stars, he leaps into action and tries to battle his way through my guard. That's when being smaller than him becomes a useful feature allowing me to sneak under his arm and knock the ball out of his grasp without it being a foul.

Taking advantage of the fleeting moment of confusion that veils his expression, I manage to perform a perfect layup before pumping my fist in the air with a victorious shout. "Fuck yeah! Schatz, what are you taking off?" I face him, raising my brows as if I'm at a shop trying to convince him to buy me chocolate.

The pile of clothes resting just shy from the pillar that supports the backboard somewhere over my head is about to get a brand new addition to it, whether it being his shirt, slacks or underwear. Stakes are finally increasing in his case as well, seeing how I lost my undergarments rounds ago.

A brief flash of mischief in his gaze when he makes the decision causes a rush of warmth to flourish deep within my stomach. I clear my throat, focusing my attention on the beauty mark embellishing the tip of his nose as if it's a delicate snowflake melting on his creamy skin.

Humming, he skims his slender fingers over the buttons of his shirt and tilts his head back, gracing me with a shadowed view of his strong neck whilst keeping his captivating eyes on me. The artery on the side of his throat becomes evident as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing while he does.

He sucks a breath through his teeth, the line of his jaw tensing when his other hand settles on the waistband of his slacks, thumb barely dipping under the hem. Pressing my lips into a line, I crack my knuckles and tighten my inner muscles in an attempt to distract myself from his alluring figure.

The shrill sound of his zipper being undone echoes throughout the air fresh like the aroma of finest mint leaves, overpowering the fading thumps of the basketball still bouncing away from my feet. "Fuck, it's cold." His baritone is coated with an undertone reminding me of smoke, thick and tangible in its texture.

A rectangular grin exuding nothing but innocence adorns his features as his simplistic boxer briefs get revealed to me and anyone drunk enough to pass by the court at this time of night. His exposure isn't extensive though, his shirt the adequate length to slide over his crotch and conceal it from predatory stares.

He heads towards the stack of clothes and accessories under the pillar in a couple of confident strides, folding his slacks to place them down in a manner a mother lays her newborn in its cot. Watching his sculpted thighs strain when he crouches makes me sink my teeth into the flesh of my lower lip.

"Whoever scores next is the winner, right?" I mumble before he straightens to his full height and takes a step closer to me, his unruly curls swaying while he gives me a slight nod. "I'll finally get to hear your name then." A smile paints over my features as I reach up to adjust his crooked collar.