Game, Sex, Match!
By Alana Church
()
About this ebook
Ben was just trying to lose some weight. But tennis lessons with the club pro take a hot and sexy turn when the older woman recruits him for a grudge match against her long-time nemesis! Will victory on the court turn into a lusty romp between the sheets? Ingrid might be more than Ben can handle, but he is willing to try!
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
“Are you insane?” Ben asked. “I don’t have five thousand dollars, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be spending it on a stupid bet on a tennis match!”
“Twenty-five hundred,” Amanda replied absently. “That’s what your half would be. But don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll cover your half.”
“I don’t know why you roped me into this in the first place.”
Ingrid was tempted to point out that it had been Amanda, not her, who had brought Ben into the affair. But she doubted that would count for much. And besides, it was her own fault for losing her temper with the nasty little bitch.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Amanda’s mouth has finally written a check her talent can’t cash. I’m going to enjoy whipping her tail.”
“Yeah? And what if we lose?” Ben made a move toward the gate. “Forget it. I’m out.”
Ingrid blinked, staring, then hurried after him. “Ben, wait! I need you! You can’t just...bail on me like this!”
He turned, arms crossed. “Why not? I’m definitely not in your league.” He waved at the small figure of Amanda in the distance. “I’m not in her league, either, if she thinks she can beat you. I’m probably not even in her husband’s league. All I’m going to do is embarrass myself and cost you a lot of money.”
“You don’t need to be in his league. Or her league. Or my league.” It suddenly occurred to Ingrid that Ben had never seen her demonstrate her skill on the court. “Here. Give me a ball.”
He handed one over. “Now,” she said, bouncing it a couple of times. “Watch.”
She tossed it up in the air. Rising on her toes, her arm swept back, then violently forward.
As if it had been shot out of a cannon, the ball screamed across the net and hit the practice wall with a thud that resounded around the court.
“Jesus.” Ben licked his lips. “How fast was that?”
“About one hundred.” She shrugged against an ache in her shoulder. “I’m out of practice. Back when I was on tour, I could get it up to about one-fifteen.”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “All you have to do is stay on your half of the court and return their serves. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ben looked down at his shoes. “I’m not sure if I can.”
“You want some motivation?” she asked impatiently. “Twenty-five hundred bucks not good enough for you? Fine. If we win, I’ll let you screw me.”
Ben’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“Oh, stop it. You think I haven’t seen you staring at my legs and my chest?” Ingrid tilted her head and smiled. “And stop acting so weird. Sometimes a girl likes it when a fellow lets her know she still looks good.”
“You look more than good,” he muttered. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Well, let’s give you a little taste of what you’ll be getting,” she smiled. “After all, I can’t expect you to go in on faith alone.”
“You don’t have to...” he started, as she came up next to him. But whatever he might have said next was cut off as she snuck her hand down the waistband of his heavy gray cargo shorts. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
“Just relax,” she purred. “Don’t look around for anyone else, and don’t look guilty. I’m just helping you out with...your grip,” she sighed, as her fingers began to massage Ben’s manhood. “It’s a good thing you’ve lost all that weight,” she remarked, as he began to thicken. “Or there might not be enough room in here.”
Alana Church
Born and raised in Illinois, Alana attended the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, graduating with a degree in Education in 1994. She soon found out that the teaching life was not for her, and after a series of adventures has settled down in the Chicago suburbs, where she works for a telecommunications company.Alana lives alone, surrounded by books, pictures, a pile of story ideas, and a turtle named Pedro.
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Game, Sex, Match! - Alana Church
Game, Sex, Match!
By Alana Church
Artwork by Moira Nelligar
Copyright 2021 Alana Church
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~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~
== || < > || ==
Chapter 1: Humpty Dumpty
Ugh,
Lucy, wrinkling her lip at him. You look terrible.
Ben scowled at his sister, home from college for the spring break holiday. Nice to see you too, Twerpazoid.
He shouldered past her and into the house. Good thing I didn’t want your opinion. Hi, Mom,
he added, walking into the kitchen. What’s for supper?
Spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread,
his mother replied, tilting her head to accept a dutiful kiss on the cheek. Her brows furrowed in a pensive frown as he opened the fridge and fished out a beer. Already, Ben?
Hey,
Lucy asked as she followed Ben into the kitchen. Where’s Carla?
Not coming,
Ben muttered, twisting the top of the beer and tossing it into the trash can.
Is she busy?
his mother asked carefully.
No.
He took a drink and grimaced. We broke up night before last.
Oh, Ben.
Sheila Henderson said sadly. I’m so sorry. What happened?
He stared down at his feet. "It’s been a long time coming. You know how it is, Mom. I just got tired of her being on my case all the time. I’m out of college now. I’ve got a decent job, I make pretty good money. Why shouldn’t I unwind after work with a beer or two?
And Jesus. She was always on my ass about my weight and what I was eating! I mean, I’m not a blimp, am !? Why should I eat like she does? I told her flat out when we started dating that I wasn’t into veganism and all that. But as soon as she saw me pull out a pack of tortilla chips or put something on the grill, she would start nagging me about my weight again.
He drank off half the beer in one long pull, trying to ignore the glances between his mother and sister. I just got sick of it.
I’m not saying she’s right, Ben,
his mother said carefully, as if she were afraid of upsetting him. But you have put on quite a bit of weight since high school.
She stirred the meatballs slowly, sending up a wonderful aroma. And you’ve got a history on your father’s side of the family. I don’t want you to end up like him.
I won’t,
he said carelessly.
Yeah?
Lucy leaned against the counter, staring up at him. Take a look at the photo album, Ben. Right now you could be Dad’s twin, when he was your age.
But…
Ben closed his mouth and stared at the beer bottle, then put it down. Chuck Henderson had been a big, friendly man, the life of the party, and always willing to lend a hand to anyone who asked for his help. His big, booming laugh had filled the house, and Ben would give anything, anything in the world, to come through the door and have his father pick him up and spin him around the way he had when he was six.
Chuck had always laughed away concerns about his size, claiming that his own grandfather had lived to be over ninety years old, so what did he have to worry about. So his death had come as a shock to all of them, a gorgeous fall morning broken by his mother’s frantic cries when she came back from her morning shower to find her husband collapsed on the bedroom floor. Ben had been only seventeen. Lucy, three years younger.
It’s not…that bad, is it?
he asked, then looked down at his waistline.
It’s not good,
his mother said grimly. Can you hand me the strainer out of the cupboard, Ben?
He bent down, and grimaced as he felt the waistband of his jeans dig into his stomach. Maybe I should just have a salad,
he said as he handed the colander over, trying to make a joke out of it.
Lucy snorted.
One meal isn’t going to change anything, Ben.
Steam rose from the sink as Sheila poured the spaghetti noodles into the strainer. You want to lose weight, you have to make a lifestyle change.
Like maybe getting some exercise once in a while,
Lucy volunteered.
Fine, fine. I’ll do it.
He began to gather up plates and silverware to set the table, falling into the habits of his childhood. He grinned over his shoulder as he walked towards the dining room. But when I show up in a couple of months, looking absolutely ripped, you are all going to owe me an apology!
Ben pushed his plate away with a groan. Damn, Mom. That was good. Why can’t you teach me to cook like that?
Because by the time you arrive here, the food’s almost done. Be here when I start, and I might be able to show you a thing or two,
his mother answered with a smile.
Next time, I will,
he promised, then reached for a chunk of thick, heavy garlic bread.
Without looking up, Lucy smacked his hand with the flat of her knife, making his knuckles sting. Ouch!
I thought you were trying to lose weight,
she said.
Not right now! Can’t you give me a couple of days to get my mind around the idea?
I think you’ve got around quite a bit lately,
she smirked. A round face. A round butt. A round belly.
Lucy.
Their mother’s voice held a hint of warning, though laughter bubbled underneath. But she’s right, you know,
she said to Ben. "We’re not going to nag you