One Last Shot (Nymphs & Trojans Series Book 2)

by Alexandra Warren

  He was all swag and slick talk when he extended his hand to say, “How you doin’, baby? I’m Kage Steele, point guard for the Tennessee Trojans.”

  “Bleu Taylor, seasoned sports reporter who knows all about you,” she replied with a friendly smile that really had Kage beaming.

  “Oh yeah? Say more,” he insisted, making her chuckle as she dropped her hand and replied, “Or not. I was just coming by to say hey to an old friend.”

  Redirecting her attention towards me, she was quick to tease, “I’m pretty sure this is the most I’ve seen you in years, Dre.”

  “Tell me about it,” I sighed, accepting her quick hug as I told her, “The Nymphs are keepin’ me busy.”

  “As they should be,” she replied proudly. “But since your girl is also booked and busy, I need to get going. It was good seeing you, though. And it was nice to meet you, Kage.”

  “Likewise, Mrs. Taylor,” he told her, using the oldest trick in the book to ask if she was married or not. And because I knew the answer, I was already shaking my head at what he was after, surprised to see Bleu play along when she made a point of tossing a correction over her shoulder.

  “Ms. Taylor.”

  Watching her walk away, Kage let off a low whistle and groaned, “Now that’s a bad bi…”

  “Aye, man. Watch your mouth,” I warned, finding it strange that he even felt comfortable saying some shit like that by me.

  I mean, before today, he and I both knew he was on my “on-sight” list for that stunt he’d pulled online. But now that we were a little past that, he was already acting like we were homies, not holding anything back when he replied, “I’m sayin, though. Shorty is on another level. Sexy, grown, into sports, already knows the kid...”

  Finding his confidence amusing, I chuckled and asked, “You really like aiming high, don’t you?”

  “What ol’ MJ say? You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take?”

  “That was actually a Wayne Gretzky quote,” I corrected, Kage showing his age when he grumbled, “Whoever that is…”

  Giving me a quick dap that, again, felt strange as hell considering the energy between us before today, he announced, “But aye. I’ma get to this Three-Point Shootout so I can watch our hometown girl get this trophy for being the greatest shooter to ever do it.”

  Even though his interest in the competition sounded legit, I couldn’t help myself in scolding, “I know her shooting better be the only thing you’re watchin’.”

  “So that was you in that picture she posted on IG, huh?” he realized, not even waiting for me to respond before he gave me another dap and complimented, “Respect, big homie. You won.”

  “Thanks?” I replied, more confused than anything as I watched him take-off towards a crowd of fans hoping to get a picture or his signature. But it was the uproar surrounding his arrival that gave me the opportunity to slip by without having to say much, finding Sugar in the section reserved for coaches where she’d saved me a seat.

  Without much of a greeting, Sugar announced, “She’s locked in, Dre. I think she’s gonna win it.”

  “How sure are you? Cause this is Vegas, so you know you can bet on just about anything,” I halfway joked, spotting Selena who was busy warming up on the court as Sugar backed up her claims.

  “She has that look in her eyes. I know you know the one I’m talkin’ about.”

  I did know what she was talking about. And because I knew what she was talking about, it wasn’t all that surprising to me when Selena shot the first round like her life depended on it, easily making it to the finals where she was up against one of her old teammates from her LA days.

  For her, the competition didn’t really matter. It was all about her skill, her determination, her will to win the money for the charity of her choice and the trophy crowning her queen of the arc - the three-point arc, that is.

  She didn’t shy away from putting on a show though, the crowd on their feet as Selena approached the middle rack of balls after shooting a perfect percentage from the first two racks. And even there, she only missed the moneyball, the crowd giving a disappointed, “Aww!” since it messed up the opportunity for her to do the impossible by making it all the way around the arc without a miss.

  Still, it was an impressive performance. And I felt proud as hell watching her last ball sink in, leaving her with a final score that almost doubled her opponent’s who’d struggled under the pressure of the championship round.

  Even while being celebrated by her peers from around the league, Selena somehow spotted me in the crowd to give me a smirk and a wink, something I thought was quick and innocent enough for no one to notice. But when Sugar shoulder-bumped me with a stupid grin on her face, I realized we’d have to be a lot more careful if we really expected to make it to the end of the season as a secret.

  Fifteen

  “I gotta be honest, Selena. Las Vegas is growing on me a little bit.”

  My stare was filled with more disbelief than anything as I watched Ari tape my ankle in preparation for the All-Star Game later this afternoon, already sick that she was even considering the move since I wasn’t sure what I’d do without her. I mean, sure any opportunity for growth in the field was a no-brainer, and the opening on the local team’s training staff was very convenient. But still, I didn’t want her to leave Nashville, frowning as I worked up my defense that sounded like a bunch of nonsense compared to the glitz and glamour of Vegas.

  I had to try though, quick to ask, “But what about the Nymphs? I mean, you already get along so well with all of us. Here, you’d be starting all over with a bunch of women you might not even vibe with. And do you really wanna live in an annoying ass tourist city where people literally show up on their worst behavior? And think about your skin. It’s so damn dry here, you’d probably turn into sandpaper.”

  Laughing, she replied, “Great con list, but I’m still gonna consider it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Nashville. But it’s also like Nashville down here and Las Vegas up here as far as overall city rankings go.”

  Glancing at the difference between the heights she’d created with her hands, I commented, “Don’t do my hometown. It’s not that low.”

  “But it’s your hometown, so of course you have some special ties,” she argued like I wouldn’t have a defense for that too.

  “I lived out in LA and still had my reasons to come home.”

  “Yeah. A job,” she emphasized with another chuckle. “Which was the same thing that brought me to Nashville and the same thing that could bring me out here to Las Vegas if I so choose.”

  Because there wasn’t much more I could say about it without sounding whiny and ridiculous, I ended on my personal truth. “I still think Nashville is the better choice.”

  “I bet you do; especially now that you’re all boo’d up and barely have time to go out for drinks with your main bitch,” she joked, holding up her hands to add, “Not that I’m hatin’. Cause trust and believe, I’d diss your ass for Dre Leonard too.”

  Peeking around at the other folks in the training room who weren’t really paying us any mind, I still whispered, “Will you keep it down?”

  “You’re right. That picture you posted was loud enough,” she replied with a chuckle that made me roll my eyes before offering an explanation.

  “It was an act of defiance.”

  “Which I support cause it was also cute as shit,” Ari mentioned, something I had to agree with since Dre and I had always been cute together long before we were even a thing.

  Just the thought of how far we’d come had me grinning as I slipped my shoe back on so that I could hop down from the training table, resting my hand on Ari’s shoulder as I groaned, “Anyway. Thanks for getting me together. And don’t get too comfortable in here.”

  “Mmhm, we’ll see,” she replied with a smirk before sending me to join the rest of my team for the weekend out on the court for warmups. But when I saw who was already making himself cozy in his courtsid
e seats, I made a detour, my eyes squinted as I observed his attire that looked a little too familiar.

  Once he saw me heading his way, he cheered, “Dun-a-dun-a-dun-a-dun-a-dun The Champ is here!” making me shake my head as I addressed what really had my attention.

  “Kage, where the hell did you get this jersey?”

  It was a replica of the one I’d worn back at Lynstone, essentially a Selena Samuels exclusive that he only had me even more curious about when he answered, “I have my ways.” And before I could ask for more information, he put a hand to my arm to say, “Congratulations on that monster performance last night.”

  “I appreciate it,” I replied with a nod, crossing my arms over my chest as I continued, “But I also have a bone to pick with you. Cause that shirt of Dre you posted was…”

  Before I could even finish, he raised his hand to cut me off. “I’ve already apologized to him. But I suppose I should apologize to you too, seeing that that’s your man now.”

  Frowning, I asked, “Who told you that?” wondering if my act of defiance might’ve really been as loud as Ari had insisted.

  But when Kage answered, “He did,” I only grew more confused. And I suppose it was that confusion that prompted him to explain, “I mean, not directly. But he was just about ready to knock me out for even mentioning you, and I respect it cause I’d be ready to knock a nigga out over your pretty ass too.”

  “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, K,” I warned, knowing Dre was still close enough to follow through on that if he got too fresh with me.

  Thankfully, he changed the subject, clapping his hands together when he said, “Aye. But on some real shit, I need you reppin’ for the set somethin’ heavy during this game today cause I’ve been talkin’ mad shit to the other niggas that are here from the league about our sister squad being the best.”

  “Oh my God, Kage…” I sighed with an amused giggle, shaking my head at the fact that his loyalty to everything Nashville already ran so deep.

  That amusement only grew when he asked, “Am I lying? You can tell me if I’m lying.”

  “Our record indicates you’re telling the truth. And the only reason I’m here is to, as you put it, rep for the set somethin’ heavy,” I answered, putting him somewhat at ease according to his response.

  “That’s what I like to hear then. Now lemme go give my suga’ mama Sugar the same pep talk.”

  “Boy…” I groaned, giggling again as I watched him do a little jog towards where Sugar was standing on the sidelines watching our team warm-up. And with his exit came Dre’s arrival, his innocent hand resting at the top of my back when he asked, “You good, lil’ baby?”

  I did him one better when I turned his way with a smile and answered, “Actually, I’m great.”

  You would’ve thought I’d said something crazy the way Dre’s eyebrows furrowed in response, a look of concern on his face once he acknowledged, “You seem very… relaxed.”

  Giggling, I reminded him, “It’s an All-Star Game, Dre. It’s supposed to be relaxed, right?”

  “Yeah, but I also know you. And for you, basketball is typically a very serious thing.”

  Shaking my head, I told him, “Not today. Today, I’m having fun with it.”

  It sounded good coming off my lips. But as soon as the game started, I realized that wouldn’t be the case at all, the other team on some hyper-competitive shit from the very beginning that forced me and my squad to rise to the occasion. And we did for the most part, the game going down to the wire but ending in a loss that had me annoyed since I hadn’t come all the way to Las Vegas to lose.

  At least I had my Three-Point Shootout trophy to give some sort of balance, still feeling a way about the whole thing when I received a text from Dre to meet him in his suite. And while I pouted the entire walk there, I couldn’t help but smile after he opened the door and pulled me inside before demanding that I get naked.

  “You really think I’m that easy? Cause for you, I totally am,” I told him playfully, already getting rid of the Nike slides, sweatpants, and hoodie I’d thrown on after the game as he laughed me off.

  “If I only wanted to fuck, I would’ve just come down to your room,” he replied, pulling me deeper into his suite towards his bed that was surrounded by candles and covered in rose petals with an assortment of oils sitting on the nightstand nearby.

  “Dre, what’s all this?” I asked, already finding his efforts adorably romantic before he even gave an explanation.

  “I know how you get after a loss. So I thought a massage might make you feel a little better.”

  Now I was even more impressed, turning his way to ask, “You went and got all of this after the game?”

  Nodding, he chuckled and replied, “You’d be surprised how easy it is to get this exact assortment of items out here in Vegas.”

  “Now that you mention it…” I muttered, joining in on his chuckle as he urged, “Go lay down, lil’ baby. Let me get you right.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice, my bra and panties the last things to go as I laid face down on his mattress. And it wasn’t long after that Dre was beginning the massage I already knew I’d be thanking him for later with as much pussy as he wanted, his hands feeling heavenly as he worked my shoulders and asked, “Pressure okay?”

  “Perfect,” I piped out, slobbering a little on the pillow tucked under my head by the time he made it down to my lower back. And when he got to my ass and thighs, I was just waiting for him to slip a finger into either hole, frowning a little when he very politely continued down to my calves.

  It was worth it though, particularly when he got down to my feet that he took his time with like he just knew they needed the extra attention. Either that, or he was just really enjoying himself, seeming like the latter when he commented, “I could do this all night.”

  “If you’re asking for permission, the answer is hell yes,” I moaned, making him chuckle as he spread my legs and slowly started making his way back up my body.

  “Nah, I have somethin’ better in mind. Somethin’ you might enjoy even more.”

  Because what he was doing already felt so damn good, I didn’t want to risk exchanging it for anything less exhilarating, quick to tell him, “If the chances are only “might”, you can just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  “You mean, you don’t want me to do this instead?” he asked, running a finger against my slick folds that made me gasp and made him groan, “Mmm. What’s that all about?”

  “You touching me, that’s what.”

  I expected him to go in for more, but he didn’t, only building the anticipation when he popped me on the ass and urged, “Turn over. I’m not done.”

  While laying on my stomach allowed me at least a little bit of coverage, laying on my back left me wide open, my eyes low as I watched Dre pour more oil onto his hands. And after rubbing them together to get the oil to a more pleasing temperature, he hovered over me and started rubbing behind my ears down to my collarbone, being able to see him only making the whole thing even sexier; only making me even wetter.

  Crazy enough, that wasn’t the only thing that had turned me on about Dre today, my voice a little groggy when I mentioned, “Kage told me you two talked.”

  “Definitely not tryna talk about Kage right now,” he replied with a humorless laugh, making me realize I hadn’t even really scratched the surface of why I’d brought him up.

  So without wasting any more time, I explained, “He told me he apologized. He also told me you were just about ready to whoop his ass over me. That’s kinda hot, Dre.”

  I expected that to help him understand. But according to the irritated look on his face, it had only made things worse, his lips turned into a frown when he asked, “Me acting up and possibly getting in real trouble for it during a weekend all about you and your league is hot?”

  Shaking my head, I reasoned, “Not in that context. But like, the idea of you choking somebody out…”

  “Like this?” he
asked with a smirk, cutting me off with a firm hand around my neck that sent the rest of my body into a frenzy.

  Not because I thought he’d choke me out for real. But because it was so damn sexy, and I wished it was paired with his dick deep inside of me.

  Unfortunately, I was the only one naked enough for that to even be possible. But when he asked, “Are you gonna let me finish?” I took that as an opportunity to get him on my level, licking my lips to bargain, “Only if you take your clothes off to do it.”

  Like it was nothing, Dre made quickwork of climbing from the bed to pull off both his shirt and pants, getting ready to leave his briefs on until I raised an eyebrow and demanded, “Those too.”

  Smirking, he ditched his briefs to show off the erection I mentally took credit for before returning to the bed. And while I fully expected him to give in now that we were both undressed, he held strong, his dick propped up against my leg as he added a little more oil to his hands then took his time massaging my breasts to the point that I started to beg for him to be done.

  “Greedy, greedy, greedy,” he teased, continuing to taunt me by giving my quads some attention they really didn’t need. And I was just about ready to either implement some sort of reverse psychology strategy or straight up attack his ass when he draped one of my legs over his shoulder so that we were finally aligned, only building more anticipation as he ran the tip of his dick against my clit and teased, “Aww man. I forget to do your arms.”

  “Dre, if you don’t…”

  The rest of my words transformed into a moan as he plunged into me, going as deep as my body would allow him to before pulling out to do it again. And this time, he reached new depth, the wetness in combination with how relaxed my body was thanks to the massage creating a symphony of pleasure that made Dre grunt, “Nah, this shit feels too fuckin’ good.”

  He was right.