Page 45 of Wicked Knight

I never miss the ball. But it happened in an unexpected split second when I was stealing a glance at Mackenzie. She was doing her routine with the cheerleaders, and I got lost in the way her body looked in her uniform.

The cheerleaders practice whenever the team does, so everything is as real as possible to game day.

We’re supposed to be so used to the cheerleaders that they become part of the furniture. It’s just difficult when you have one stuck in your head.

I’m seeing her after practice, and I can’t wait to have her all to myself. The craving to taste her pussy again has stayed with me all damn day.

I’m focused on the game now, but Mackenzie Domachenkov is never far from my thoughts.

“Dmitri!” Kade shouts from behind, his voice cutting through the chaos created when the ball sails through the air.

I don’t turn my head. I don’t need to. I know exactly where he is, and my job is simple: clear the way or die trying.

The ball comes my way, and it’s like the world slows down for half a heartbeat. I lunge forward, my arms thrusting into the chest of Illya Yurkov, the nearest offensive lineman.

He’s a tank of a guy, at least thirty pounds heavier than me, but I’ve got leverage because of my rage.

“Take him out, Valneko!” Coach roars at me. And I do. My forearms slam into Yurkov, and I feel the satisfying give as he stumbles back.

Another guy breaks through the line, angling for Kade. That’s not going to happen on my watch.

I pivot, shoulders low, and crash into him like a wrecking ball. He grunts as he hits the ground hard, grass and dirt flying up around us.

“Fuck, yeah!” Kade shouts speeding forward.

Then he gets the ball, and we all know the games over.

No one will be able to catch him.

“Go, go, go!” Coach Barrett shouts, his fists pounding through the air like he’s beating a drum.

Kade makes it to the endzone and scores the second touchdown.

The field erupts in cheers. Kade looks back at me, and we nod at each other. A separate silent conversation between us.

We‘ve been playing like that since we were five.

People used to joke around and say we were telepathic. Sometimes I believe them.

Kade runs back to me and gives me a high-five.

“I can’t wait for the championships to start.” He grins. “Ohio is gonna bleed.”

“Damn right.” We play Ohio first. They came close to winning last year. We won’t give them that chance again.

“Alright, men! Get over here,” Coach Barrett barks, summoning us over for a huddle.

We make our way over, and he begins his usual end-of-practice lecture.

Adrenaline still hums in my veins from my game play on the field, but it works through me in all sorts of different ways when I glance at the group of cheerleaders and see Mackenzie packing her things away.

Her long blonde hair gleams like gold under the sun, and her skin looks like porcelain.

She’s talking to one of the other girls, who is laughing at something she said. Mackenzie smiles, too, and it lights up her whole face, making her look more beautiful.

I was glad when she took up cheerleading in high school and even more glad when she decided to pursue it here.

Most of the girls here want to do it professionally after graduation, but everything Mackenzie does is to compliment ballet.