“I can feel you through your jeans.” I bring my beer to my lips, giving the ball babe a side-glance. “Course you can, you’ve been scratching your nails across my zipper for the last ten minutes.” Tipping my head back, I finish off the bottle and look back to the girl. “If it ain’t hard yet, it ain’t gonna be, babe. Better luck next time.” She takes a second, deciding if she’s going to be offended or not, but when my boys at the table to our left start laughing, she sets eyes on her next target of the night, and happily skips her fine ass over there—bit skinny for my taste, but fine
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