Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Greer and I exchanged a grin before we went over to join Colt, and then we got our fun. Or the first part of our fun, I should say. I started with Tate, sensing he was better focused than Corey and Gael.
We spun them around. Colt took care of Cam and Gael at the same time, leaving Greer to make his own boy dizzy.
“What the—!”
“I’d shut up if I were you, brat,” Greer told him.
A few more rapid circles, and then Colt said, “Sixty seconds on the clock—now!”
We stepped aside and let the boys fumble and steady themselves, not without protests. Oh my gosh, where are we? Is it this way? I can’t see you, so I don’t know! Fucking hell, just—let’s try this way. It’s slightly brighter by the patio doors.
Good observation by Tate. I made another note.
Then someone coughed over in the audience, and Cam picked up on it.
“It’s gotta be this way.” He felt around blindly till he grabbed on to Gael and sent him in the correct direction, followed by Corey and Tate. The latter was already on his way there.
“Thirty seconds left!” Greer announced.
“Fuck.” Tate found the boxes by the platform first and fell to his knees. “Follow the sound!” He shook the boxes, rattling the collection of handcuffs.
To their credit, they got started immediately, tossing the toys around and into the boxes they’d previously agreed.
“It’s one point per correctly sorted toy,” Colt said.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Corey urged.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!”
“Crap, crap, flogger in the right one,” Gael rambled.
I grinned.
“Four! Three! Two! One!” Colt blew the whistle. “Back away from the boxes!”
“Every second counts!” Greer yelled.
“Push it!” I tossed the tennis ball to Tate, who groaned and caught it.
Catching tennis balls was easy enough, but they had to do it while performing wall-sits, as in, they pressed their backs against the wall and kept their knees at a ninety-degree angle, heels touching the floor. Some called it the devil’s chair, and that seemed accurate enough for me.
“Fuck it, I can’t!” Tate lost the strength in his legs and collapsed on the floor about two seconds before Gael went down with a yelp.
“All right, Tate and Gael don’t wanna train their quads—it’s up to you two now!” Greer gathered a few more tennis balls.
I did the same.
When I tossed one to Corey and he didn’t catch it, he let out a long “Nooo!” and I went forward again and twisted his nipples through his shirt. “Ouch, goddammit!”
“All this bitchin’ and moanin’,” Colt muttered with a shake of his head.
Tate and Gael glared weakly as they tried to catch their breath.
I’d lost count of the times I’d failed to hide my laughter.
“Twenty seconds on the clock—go!” I barked out.
Cam sprinted up on the platform and started picking candy off the web, each piece attached with a nipple clamp. He could only get one before he had to return to the edge of the stage and drop the candy into a bucket. Then rinse and repeat, back to the web.
“Come on, Cam, you can do it!” Gael jumped and clapped.
“Remember, if you don’t grab the one at the very top, no pieces count,” Greer reminded.
“Yeah, I heard you the first three times,” Cam bit out.
I chuckled under my breath and made a quick note. Cam was getting testy. He was one of those sweethearts who kept his inner brat on a tight leash, so when he let go, he was fucking done.
“I’m so glad politeness is important for a good grade,” Colt mentioned.
“Right?” I checked the stopwatch. “Ten seconds to go, Cam.”
Cam grunted and started climbing the web to snatch the top piece. “I remember now why I hated PE in high school.”
“Because you didn’t have us as coaches?” I asked.
“That’s gotta be it.” Greer nodded.
Cam huffed.
“Four seconds—three, two…”
Cam rushed over to the bucket and tossed the lollipop in there, then promptly bent over to rest his hands on his thighs and pant.
I walked over to the bucket, counting seven pieces, including the top-positioned lollipop. It looked real tasty, so I picked it up and unwrapped the sweet.
“Isn’t that for us?” Corey gaped at me.
I stuck the lollipop in my mouth and raised a brow.
“Why would it be for you?” Greer followed suit and snatched up a couple chocolates. “This is PE, not some candy class. We’re here to keep you on your toes.”
“By eating our candy!” Gael laughed.
“It was never yours to begin with, little one.” Colt ruffled my boy’s hair and grabbed a fun-sized packet of Junior Mints.
Tate sucked his teeth. “All right. Are we done here? I’m fucking drenched.”
Oh-ho. I shifted the strawberry lollipop from one cheek to the other and picked up my clipboard. “Attitude from Tate. Noted.”
Corey legit balled his hands into fists. “I’m. So. Over. The. Notebooks.”
Greer tossed me a smirk. “It’s possible I have one at home. Kid gets riled up every time I make a note.”