The Way We Touch: or Wrangling the Wide Receiver (The Bradford Boys)

Energy surges through my lungs, and I’m surrounded by my brothers on the field. We’re hot and sweaty and fired up and starting off strong. I caught ten passes for two touchdowns, but only 190 yards. It’s not the best, but it’s pretty damn good.

A few of their linemen tried to play dirty, but Garrett was right with me the whole time blocking them.

Craig made a group chat and sent a photo of all the gang watching at Cooters & Shooters. Dylan was right in the middle wearing a huge smile and my Number 12, and pride surged in my chest. Damn, she looks good in my jersey.

I’m fast on the field, but I’m even faster getting cleaned up and changed and in the black SUV taking me to my place. The guys are all going out tonight to celebrate our win, but I’m headed to my apartment for a date with my girl.

I grab my iPad Pro and quickly pull up her number. When her bright smile appears on the screen, my entire body relaxes. She’s sitting in her bed still in my jersey with her hair down and her legs crossed. Her pretty eyes shine, and when she smiles, she steals my breath a little.

“You were amazing out there tonight!” Her excitement tightens my stomach, and I’d give a million dollars to have her in my arms right now. “Garrett was right. Lightning.”

That makes me chuckle. “Did you watch the whole thing?”

“Yes, from a safe place behind a post in the dining room.”

I laugh more at that. “What were you doing behind a post?”

“Hiding from you getting tackled.”

“They only got me a few times. Garrett had my back.”

“I didn’t like seeing Garrett getting tackled either.”

“From what I understand, he did most of the tackling.”

“How are you feeling?” Her voice is quiet, and she lies on her side, resting her head on her hand.

“Pretty good. I need to get my numbers higher, but it’s only the first game of the season.” My fingers ache to touch her. “I don’t want to talk shop. Tell me about your day. How’d it go?”

She exhales a little groan. “It was fine—so much better than I imagined. I really built it up in my head.”

But I push back. “Don’t do that. Your injury was a big loss for you. It changed everything.”

“I was just a kid, though. I had my whole life ahead of me.” Her voice gets quiet. “I faced much bigger losses.”

Damn, this distance. “If I were there, I’d have you in my arms right now.”

Her lips press together, and she blinks up at me. “I’d like that a lot. I saw your signal on camera.”

“Yeah?” I grin. “What did you think of that?”

“It was kind of perfect.” Her chin dips, and she almost seems embarrassed. “In the middle of everything happening around you, you thought of me.”

I want to say I’m always thinking about her, but that feels like a lot. “Johnson’s wife is organizing a charity gala next month. Think you can get your fine ass up here and go with me?”

“I can try.” Her eyes brighten. “Text me the date. I don’t have class on Fridays, and I’m sure Craig and Allie will cover for me at the restaurant.”

“You forget, Allie’s doing the Friday night lights now.”

“Oh, shit!” She slaps her hand against her forehead adorably. “I keep forgetting Austin’s in high school. He was really great in class today. They all were. As I was watching them, it was just like you said, my love for the dance seemed to heal the pain in my heart.”

She’s so thoughtful and pretty. “You’re going to be the best teacher for them.”

“Do you remember that old saying, ‘Those who can’t, teach’?” I nod and she continues. “I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be an insult, like you weren’t good enough to do the thing, so you had to teach it?”

“You’re right.” My jaw tightens, and I’m not sure where this is going.

“I have a whole different perspective on it now.” Her brow furrows, and I can see she’s struggling with her emotions. “As much as I want to, I can’t dance the way I did before I was injured. It’s not because I’m older and out of shape. I literally can’t go up on pointe… But I can teach.”

Her chin quivers, and I’m on my feet. “Hold that thought. If I can get a plane, I’ll be there in five hours⁠—”

“Wait!” Her voice is high, and she taps her fingertips under her eyes. “You don’t understand. It’s like I’ve reclaimed that dig. I can’t dance, but teaching dance is such a gift to me now. I understand why Jack coaches. The students are so precious, and they want to learn from someone who knows how hard they’re working and understands their dreams.”

My shoulders are still tense, but I exhale slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am.” Her eyes are still misty, but her smile is genuine. “I’m really happy.”

Sitting heavily on the foot of the bed, I lean my forearms on my knees. “You’re a really great girl, you know that?”

I can’t get over her strength. I mean, I was pretty sure it was in her the night we talked about it, after she told me her story. Here she is proving me right.

“I’ll tell you what else.” She lifts a finger to her mouth, sliding it over her bottom lip. “It made me wonder what it would’ve been like if you’d been in my ballet class in high school.”

“I’m kind of tall for a ballerina.”

“Male dancers are called danseurs.”

“I’m still kinda tall.”

That makes her laugh, and it’s the best sound. It relaxes the fist in my chest at seeing her almost cry. Shit, that was rough.

“I would’ve been so into you in high school.” She leans on her side in the pillows, a naughty smile curling her lips. “I imagine your big hands lifting me in only a leotard and tights. Maybe you’d be shirtless, and I’d slide down your chest. Mmm…”

Her eyes close, and she does a little shiver.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” My voice is low and growly. “If I’d had my hands on you in high school, they’d have kicked me out of the class.”

“Why?”

My eyebrow arches. “You know why.”

“Show me.” Her voice is sultry, and my dick stirs in my pants.

I walk over to place my iPad on its stand, then I step back and start to unbutton my shirt. She jumps up, flipping onto her stomach with her chin resting in her hands and her eyes wide.

“Take it off!” She yells, and I start to laugh.

Reaching behind my head, I pull my shirt off in a sweep. She puts her fingers in her mouth and does a perfect taxi whistle, which causes me to stop mid-strip.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Stop stalling and show me that dick!” Her carnival-barker voice is fucking hilarious.

“You’re going to wake Zane.” How did I become the old school marm in this situation? Redirect. “Shut your yap, Danger, and show me that pussy.”

Her eyes flare, and she scoots to the end of her bed, placing her laptop on the desk across from her. I watch as she stands and lifts my jersey, revealing white lace panties that rise over her hips.

“That’s more like it.” My cock is at full attention now. “Have I mentioned how good you look in my jersey?”

She turns and wiggles her soft booty wrapped in white lace before threading her fingers in the sides and slowly lowering them down her hips.

Looking over her shoulder, she blinks her eyes. “What do you want me to do, Lightning?”

I’ve never thought my nickname was sexy until I hear it dripping off her lips. “I want to watch you touch yourself while I come.”

She walks forward, climbing on all fours onto the bed, and I lube up before wrapping my fist around my erection.

Leaning her back against the pillows, she lifts the jersey over her bare tits and spreads her legs so I can see her touching herself.

“Damn,” I groan, moving my hand up and down my cock.

Orgasm builds in my pelvis, tightening my ass as I watch her bite her lip and moan. Her lids flutter, but her eyes are fixed on my hand.

“That’s so hot,” she moans. “I want to hear you come.”

My breath grows heavier the faster I pump, and I brace the desk, exhaling a groan. She moans in response, rubbing her knees together as her fingers circle her clit.

It’s a surge straight to my cock. “I’m close,” I groan and now my eyes are fixed on her bare pussy.

She slips two fingers inside and moans. “You’re so big. I wish I could put you in my mouth and suck…”

“Fuck,” I groan, reaching for the box of tissues on the counter as I continue jacking off for her.

Her eyes narrow, and her back arches. “I’d slide my tongue all over your tip, then I’d pull you all the way to the back of my throat.”

It’s another surge of pleasure. “I’d bend you over the bed and fuck you so hard.”

“Yes,” she moans. “I’d twerk my ass up and down your cock…”

“You take me so good. I’m so hard.”

“Oh!” Her legs jump, and I watch her orgasm. Her mouth opens, and her stomach shudders. “Logan…” she cries, and I groan deeply.

I start to jerk, and I grab a tissue to cover the tip.

“Let me see it…” She gasps, and I move to the side allowing come to spill over my fingers. “Oh my god.”

I exhale another groan as my hand slows, and her thighs tremble. My arm bends, and I give my cock a final tug before stopping with a hiss. “Too sensitive.”

She rolls to the side, cupping her pussy with her fingers. We’re both breathing fast, and she hums, a smile curling her lips.

“You are five million on the Scoville scale,” she teases.

I take a step back, sitting on the edge of the bed with a heavy exhale. “Which pepper is that?”

“It doesn’t exist.” She lifts up onto her elbows, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s the Logan Murphy pepper.”

That makes me laugh weakly. I’m sitting on the foot of my bed buck naked. My dick is still pulsating on my leg from that orgasm. “Damn, I wish you were here. Hearing you say my name while you come in nothing but my jersey is a real-life wet dream.”

“Is it?” Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I want to touch your body.”

“Text me the date of the gala. I’ll be there.”

The thought tightens my chest, and I think about her here, in my place, making love all night. “I might lock you up and never let you leave.”

“Hmm… I might let you.”