Once Upon A Half-Time 1(30)

This was a rendition of Let’s Get it On that even Marvin Gay would have appreciated.

Elle hid her eyes as I belted the song, but she was going to miss the best part.

Each sultry beat rolled through me, and I broke through the buttons on my shirt one at a time, each revealing a bit more skin, a lot more attitude, and earning the approval of everyone in the bar.

I fell to my knees, hip thrusting. The shirt tossed into the audience, nearly getting incinerated on Jack’s lighter before Elle could catch it.

“Lachlan!” Elle chastised me. “Don’t you dare!”

“Ladies and gentleman…” The song dipped, and I got a little too intimate with the stage with one, two, three leisurely thrusts against the wood. I hopped to my feet as the team nearly drowned in their beers. I gestured to Elle, giving another little pop of the goods as the spotlight turned on her. She sat, mortified, cursing at me with every breath. “I just want to ask this beautiful woman one question. Just one.”

“No, no no. Lachlan!” She wagged a finger. “No!”

“Oh yes.” I hissed a satisfied yelp. “Gotta ask my team, my friends, and a dozen random, panty-less strangers to help me. I need you to answer me this…”

“Charming, I am not doing it!”

“All I’m asking of her is three little dates!”

The crowd whooped. The extra bump of my hips helped.

“Go on, hon!” Caleb yelled.

Jack gave her a shove. “He’s on his knees!”

I pumped my arms for the bar to applaud. “I just need three nights for us to talk, get to know each other, rekindle the greatest marriage a man could ask for.” I winked. The co-eds screamed. “Three dates for her to fall completely, totally in love with me.” I dropped into the chorus of the song with a spin, pop, and lock. “So Let’s Get It On!”

“Cut the man a break, Elle!” Jack yelled. “He’s trying so hard.”

“Yeah, what else is hard though?” Elle hid her eyes.

Wouldn’t she love to find out? I threaded the mic through my fingers, softly touching my bare chest. The guys liked the nipple tweak. I liked that Elle couldn’t stop staring.

She shouted as my hand drifted lower, popping the button on my jeans.

“Stop!” Elle stood. “If I say yes, will you stop stripping?”

“Sure thing.” I eyed the crowd. “For now. Three dates, Elle. That’s all I’m asking.”

She didn’t relent until I nearly deflowered the microphone stand. A white napkin waved in the air. She surrendered.

“Fine! Three dates!” She pointed at me. “But only three!”

I ended the song as the bar exploded in applause, cheers, and laugher. Better than winning a fucking game.

Elle arched an eyebrow as I plucked her out of her seat. “What are you doing?”

“Playing to the crowd.”

I held her close, spun her around, and dipped her low. The team hooted as I gave her the single greatest kiss she’d ever gotten in her life, the kind that made every fairy tale prince blow his load before he ever bedded his princess.

But I had a lot more planned than just a simple kiss.

Fuck the shattering slippers. I didn’t wait for a rose to drop its petals.

This woman would love me after three dates.

And she’d fall as hard for me as I’d crashed for her.





7





Elle





Dating my husband was probably a huge mistake. Indulging him was worse.

But I was nothing if not a woman of my word…especially when that integrity faded by the second.

I knocked on his door and fully expected him to answer naked.

I was wrong. Very wrong.

Lachlan wore a sleek suit, dark pants and a sexy vest tailor cut to his muscular frame. He cleaned up well. Problem was, he knew it. He grinned at me, a playful warning of all the things to come. And, if I wasn’t careful, I’d be the one coming.

“Welcome home.” Lachlan guided me into his newly purchased house. “Since you own half of this place now, I should give you a tour. Or should we skip ahead to the bedroom?”

Some players on the team lived in castles. Some built beautiful mansions for themselves. Lachlan bought a modern home, something bright and full of windows. A very northern Californian theme—white and wicker and driftwood. His furniture was white, but someone decorated it with good taste. Splashes of green colored the living room, matching the sea-foam hint of his eyes.

His home wasn’t a mansion, but it was far larger than my apartment, and much more expensive than the tuna can that was my childhood home.

“No bedroom yet. You promised me a date.” I spun, showing off a rather revealing black dress that hugged my curves, boosted my breasts, and flared just right to showcase my butt. “You said I’d have the greatest night of my life.”