Mister Dimples

by Becs, Lindsay

  “Maybe I’m just a bigger fan of football because I enjoy a certain player now. Call me biased, but really, come on. Ser—Oh, shit! Did you guys see that? That puck thing just bounced off the net and hit that dude in the junk. Hope they wear a cup thing or he’s not having babies anytime soon.

  “And that’s the buzzer. The way they’re cheering, I’m going with that means the end of the game. Yellow team wins! Good job, guys! Now, go help that guy ice his balls.

  “I’m Juniper Love, and this is Go Sports!. Thanks for listening to this latest episode. Go play with balls and have fun out there.”

  The recording stops, and she removes her headphones. She taps on her laptop for a minute before I knock on her door and walk in, her face lighting up when she sees me.

  “Hey! How long you been here?” She asks, walking out from around her desk to wrap her arms around me.

  “Not long. Caught the end of the show. Liked your send-off.” I smile.

  Lifting a shoulder, she smiles back. “Gotta change it up from time to time.”

  I kiss her on the nose. “I love watching you record when you don’t know anyone is watching. You’re pretty cute.”

  “Well, I do try,” she flirts. “What are you doing here anyway? I’m happy for the surprise, but is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, but I do need to talk to you about something. Can we sit? I’m exhausted and still not done for the day.”

  “Of course. You need anything? Water, pain meds, food, anything?”

  “No, just need you.”

  A gorgeous smile splits across her face, her eyes sparkling as they crinkle at the corners. Not able to keep from touching her, I reach up and grip her chin between my finger and thumb, pulling her in for a kiss.

  Pulling back with a look of relaxed serenity on her face, I feel all of her calm wash over me, and I know then that everything is going to be fine.

  “I got my ass handed to me by Coach today,” I start, diving right in. Her eyes go wide, and I stop her before she puts this on her. “It was my fault, not yours, that I didn’t play like I should have.”

  “I’m so sorry, Troy.”

  I shrug. “Nothing to be sorry about. It was a hiccup, and we moved past it. And I will this too.”

  “I feel terrible,” she says, seeming so sad, and I hate that look on her face.

  “Don’t. But it does mean I have to ghost a little. I wanted to talk to you about it in person so you understand that it is not you.”

  “Okay. What does that mean?”

  “Coach is going to be riding me hard for at least this week, if not longer, until I prove to him I can keep my head in the game. More practices, drills, workouts, everything.”

  “It’s okay; I understand. It’s your job, and that has to come first right now.”

  I nod, hating that I have to push her aside for the moment when all I want to do is make her my number one.

  “Fuck, I love you for understanding and not being mad.”

  “Troy, I’m not selfish. I get it. Truly. I’ll miss you, not getting to spend as much time with you, but you have to do what you need to.” She smiles. “You’ll still crawl in bed with me at night, and that’s all I need. He can’t be there too.”

  “I’m sure he’d try,” I mumble.

  “Just promise me you’ll text me when you can to let me know you’re still alive.”

  “I can do that.”

  I leave her office feeling better than I did when I entered. She is the most understanding and supportive girlfriend. Not many would be as cool with this as she is. I know I’m a lucky man to have her.

  Walking back into the locker room, I have a renewed smile on my face that Coach can’t take from me, no matter how much he’s about to try. I keep Juniper’s face at the forefront of my mind, knowing that she’s the end game.

  Holy fuck, she’s my end game.

  I’m going to come out the other end of this as a better player, earn more respect from my coach and be there for my team. But more than any of that, I’m going to make my girl mine forever.

  21

  Torn between looking like a snack and eating one.

  JUNIPER

  The past couple weeks have dragged by. My basic routines haven’t changed, but I miss Troy. He’s here but he’s not. He always so tired from practice or whatever that we hardly say much to each other before he crashes.

  He told me it would be like this, and I understand the importance of him needing to put his team and career above me and his personal life, especially after I almost fucked it all up for him. I never want to be the reason why anything that brings him joy gets taken away from him.

  Bianca invited me over for dinner, but I wasn’t feeling it. I don’t want to bring her mood down with my own sad disposition. Instead, I’m sitting in the apartment I share with Troy—his apartment—sipping on wine and eating my way through a bag of chocolates in the dark while watching a movie.

  I’m a couple glasses in and a little more than halfway through Dumb and Dumber when I hear the front door open and close. Sitting up, I smooth my hair back and out of my face in a last-ditch effort not to look like the mess I feel like.

  “Hey,” Troy’s deep, smooth voice says softly as he walks in the room to where I’m sitting. Bending over the back of the couch, he gives me an upside-down kiss. Walking around, he smirks.

  “What?” I ask, wondering about that look of amusement.

  His eyes make a path that mine follow from me to the glass in my hand to all the chocolate wrappers scattered around me. I dip my head, embarrassed.

  “You okay?” he asks, sounding more concerned than playful.

  “Yeah,” I say with a sigh, leaning my head back against the couch to look up at him. “I was just having a night of self-pity.”

  “Why’s that?” he asks, picking up my legs to rest across his lap as he sits next to me.

  I shrug and look down, not wanting to make him feel bad. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Ip.” I look up at him then, our eyes locking for a second. “I’m sorry we haven’t had much time together lately.”

  “You told me it would be like this. I understand, really. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything.”

  “Nothing you feel right now is any different from what I’m feeling. I hate that we’ve hardly had a real conversation in last couple weeks or been able to really hang out…or that I haven’t been able to be inside you.” He adds the last part in a lower voice that hits right between my legs.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how turned-on do all my chocolate wrappers and wine breath make you?” I ask, wiggling my brows up and down.

  “I want to kiss you like Lloyd Christmas kisses Mary Swanson,” he states with a straight face that I can’t match. Especially not when he leans over to kiss me but uses the same amount of tongue as Lloyd.

  My laughter soon dies when Troy picks me up to straddle his lap and his kisses turn from comedic to sincere, kissing me softly, reverently and showing me exactly how much he’s missed me too. Our tongues caress in a sensual way, dueling and twisting.

  He grazes his lips down my neck as his hands slip under my shirt, giving an appreciative hum when he discovers I’m not wearing a bra. His thumbs brush over my already hardened nipples, sending flicks of electricity between my legs. He does it again, and then on the third time, he pulls my shirt off.

  Wasting no time, his mouth falls to my chest, kissing, licking and sucking every inch of my breasts as his hands rub, play and pinch. I’m getting worked up so easily and need more.

  My hands go to the hem of his shirt. “Up,” I demand. He listens, helping me remove the cotton. My palms slide up his chest, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him against me, needing to feel the warmth of skin on skin. From the hum that vibrates against me, I can tell he needed it too.

  We spend the next hour lost in each other, enjoying the feel of our bodies touching and quenching the need that both of us had.

  After
ward, we shower before slipping under the covers in our bed and relaxing, tangled up in each other’s arms.

  Obviously, we both needed this tonight, but more than that, we both just needed each other.

  * * *

  After the night that turned from self-pity to great sex, I promised myself I was going to change some things. Troy and I respect each other and our separate careers, but I hate the distance it’s putting between us. So, I decided I’m going to sneak in to watch and support my man at his games.

  I’m not watching for work or because someone told me to or to commentate. No, I’m watching for me and for him and for us. Because I want to be present. I want to support him in what he loves and works so hard to do. And because he deserves to have someone here to watch him at every game.

  I’ve been to three games so far, and only Troy knows I’m there. I wanted to surprise him the first time. I wore his favorite hat and sat in the seats that are reserved just for his friends and family.

  When he took the field that day, he did a double take when he saw me sitting there clapping and screaming for him. He shot me a smile and blew me a kiss and played a damn good game, if I do say so myself.

  Today, he told me, is going to be a challenging game. They’re playing one of their toughest competitors, and he’s worked really hard this week to be ready for anything. He’s a little more on edge than normal, and I hate seeing him like that.

  “You’re going to do great,” I say when I hug him before he leaves.

  Kissing me on the lips, he gives a little more than usual before a game. “I hope so,” he mumbles against my mouth.

  “You do what you do best. It’ll show on the field and to everyone watching. You got this.”

  “I love you, Ip. I’m so glad you’ll be there. I love looking up and seeing you there.”

  “I love you too. And I love watching your tight little ass in your leggings, so I’m happy to be there.” I smile.

  “I’ll see you after.”

  “Bet your cute butt you will, Mister Dimples,” I tease, slapping his ass when he turns to go.

  He gave me a smile, but it wasn’t his usual bright one when he left. And that makes me nervous for him.

  Now, we’re almost to halftime, and I’ve already nervously eaten my way through popcorn, M&M’s and a pack of Twizzlers.

  The halftime band plays and the cheerleaders do their routine, then the announcer tells everyone to focus on mid-field. My eyes go there, and my brows bunch in confusion when I see Troy standing there with the cheerleaders in a half-circle around him.

  Then his voice fills the stadium, and everyone seems to quiet down some. “Hi, everybody. I’m Troy Tipton.” He pauses when shouts and screams erupt all around. He motions with his hand for everyone to quiet down. I clasp my hands under my chin as I smile; I can’t help but smile every time I see him. “Some of you might know that I’ve been dating a certain little sassy thing, and she happens to be here today,” he says, looking right at me. My eyes go wide. So much for being here unseen. “Ip, come out here with me,” he urges.

  A security guard is already at my row and helps me get down to the field, where I feel really uncomfortable. Troy’s face is lit up in a huge smile, and I can’t be mad at him even if I try.

  “What are you doing?” I ask through an uncomfortable chuckle.

  “You see, babe, it recently came to mind that you’re my end game.” Awes sound all around us when he says that, and it squishes my heart too. “I love you, Juniper Meadow Love. I love that you make fun of me and the game I play. I love that you make me laugh every day. I love your kind heart. I love your morning breath and your sexy ass. Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Dimples?” He drops to one knee and holds out a ring. “Will you marry me, Ip?”

  Tears are already falling rapidly down my face as I look down at him, in full gear, dirty and sweaty and perfect.

  “Yes,” I say as I lick at the corner of my mouth. “Yes, I want to be Mrs. Dimples!” I shout, putting my hands on my knees to brace myself, because holy shit, he just asked me to marry him in front of the entire nation on the middle of a football field.

  Jumping to his feet, he picks me up and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him hard and deep and making sure every woman in America knows that Mister Dimples is off the market.

  “I love you, you crazy man,” I laugh into our kiss.

  “I love you more,” he says, setting me on my feet and sliding the ring on my finger. I hold my hand out to the camera that’s closest to us with my other hand over my mouth, still in shock.

  Troy then picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, fireman style, carrying me off the field and away from the world’s eyes. Once we’re alone, he sets me down.

  “Now that the cameras are off of us and there aren’t millions of people watching, what do you say? You still want to be my wife?”

  “Yes!” I laugh. “You didn’t need to make sure my answer was going to be yes by asking me in front of all those people. I would have said yes to you no matter what.”

  “I’m damn lucky to have you.”

  “Yes, you are,” I agree.

  He kisses me again, and while we’re still lost in each other, we get interrupted by someone clearing their throat. We both turn to look and see his coach standing there.

  “Congratulations,” he tells us. “Now you ready to go finish this game?” he asks Troy.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.”

  “I’ll see you after,” Troy tells me.

  Troy pecks my lips one last time before running out to join his team. “I’ll be the one with the ring on her finger,” I call after him.

  He lets out a “woo!” on his way back to the field that echoes off the walls where I’m standing. Laughing and feeling high on love and Troy, I make my way back to my seat to finish watching the rest of the game.

  Almost like our proposal gave them added luck or something, the game takes a huge turn and they take the lead as Troy’s team scores again and again.

  I can see the excitement radiating off of not only Troy but his whole team as they continue to play. Even after a couple hard sacks, he still jumps up like they’re nothing. It’s obvious he’s on a high, and his team is riding the coattails of it with him.

  They win the game, and the celebration begins before they’re even off the field. His teammates have him on their shoulders as they run him over to where I’m sitting. Leaning over the rail, I lean down for a kiss before he’s whisked off to their locker room, where I wait outside for him.

  When he exits, I run and jump into his arms, not able to help myself. He spins us in a slow circle as we kiss. Cameras are going off around us and press are asking all kinds of questions, but we don’t give them any mind as we’re lost in our own little bubble.

  Once on my feet, he takes my hand in his as we walk out to the waiting car. “Finally alone,” he mutters when his mouth goes to my neck.

  “So, is that why you were so nervous before the game today?”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “You had me a nervous wreck, and I didn’t even know it involved me.”

  He chuckles into my neck. “I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

  Pulling his head back so I can look at him, I ask, “What are we doing now?”

  “Going home so I can fuck my fiancée.”

  “What if she doesn’t want to?” I challenge.

  He lifts a brow. “I’m pretty sure she does,” he confirms when he places my hand on his hard dick.

  Tilting my head to the side, I smirk. “That’s why you want to. Still doesn’t give me a reason to,” I tease.

  He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and watches me a moment. “You’re right. We don’t have to.”

  “Well, you gave up easily,” I grumble but start to move my hand up and down on his jean-covered cock.

  His eyes partially close. “You do that much more and this car ride is going to get messy.”
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  “Race you to the finish,” I challenge.

  A smile spreads wide on his face. “Challenge accepted.”

  We both quickly unbutton our jeans and slide slightly down in our seats, spreading our legs as we each shove a hand down the front of the other’s pants. It’s a game we’ve done lots of times before but never in the car. Whoever gets the other off first wins. What does the winner get? Any sexual act they want next.

  Our moans fill the moving SUV as we both begin the race. He’s hard in my hand as I grip and slide up and down on his length, being sure to give extra attention to the dripping head of his cock. He’s already pulsing in my hand when I press my thumb to the slit and squeeze a little.

  But then he pinches my clit between his two fingers, and it makes my hips buck. His middle finger pushes inside me, and his thumb draws wet circles around my clit. I try to hold off my orgasm, but when he pushes another finger inside me and finds that perfect spot, I start to see stars.

  I jerk him harder and faster, knowing he’s getting close too, but my legs begin to shake and I’m seconds away from exploding.

  “Uh… Mr. Tipton? We’re in front of your building,” the driver—who I’m sure we made very uncomfortable—says, disrupting us.

  Both of us open our haze-covered eyes and stare at each other for a beat before we start to laugh. Pulling our hands free, we unbuckle, Troy throws a few bills at the driver with a quick thanks and we rush to get up to our place to finish what we started.

  22

  Today I will be as useless as the ‘g’ in lasagna.