“We also passed all our exams.”
“Well, you did. I need to wait for my official results.”
Will chuckled.
The asshole was already going to graduate top of his class with a slew of interesting job offers from all around the country. The CIA and FBI would probably be kissing his feet any day now, schmoozing him to work for them. Not only was his IQ off the charts, but he was killing it on the ice, and he had also begun development on his first computer game. Guy had it all.
“Excuse me.” A short redhead pushed past in a blur and Finn lurched to grab the door for her before she ran into it face-first. Short was a generous descriptor. She was dinky.
“You could have opened the door for her, man.”
Will shrugged.
Okay, so he almost had it all. His social skills left a little to be desired. Especially when it came to the opposite sex. The technical term was flummoxed. Will Morrison lost all power of speech and capacity for human interaction when a beautiful woman opened her mouth and spoke in his direction.
“Come on up, sir.” The woman in the fire-red heels in front of the bar beckoned Finn forward.
He nudged Will’s elbow. “She called me sir.”
“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you.” Will deadpanned and Finn laughed, making his way forward to the empty seats. Three guys had already taken their places on his row, Finn made four, which left two empty seats in the front row. The back row of another six chairs had already filled up.
Once each seat was taken, Beyonce’sNaughty Girlstarted playing through the speakers, and every person in the bar cheered. The cheering escalated when – Finn assumed – the dancers appeared behind the two rows of chairs.
Instead of looking decidedly gleeful, Will’s brows hung low over his eyes and his arms banded across his chest. How could any hot-blooded human being not enjoy a burlesque show?
Delicate fingers trailed across his shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine. He should have worn looser pants. Mercifully, he hadn’t worn jeans, so his bare dick wasn’t chaffing against a denim seam.
From fingers on his neck, to a perfectly jiggling peach shaped ass all up in his face, Finn had died and gone to heaven. He gripped the underneath of his seat with both hands to save himself from the embarrassing urge to touch the gold sequins molded to the lush butt cheeks. He clenched his jaw. It was going to be a long few minutes and it really wasn’t cool to touch dancers.
The ass then moved to his crotch, gyrating and brushing against the stirring bulge in his pants. He pinned his gaze to the back of her red, jaw-length bob, maybe that would tell his dick it wasn’t okay to caress a strange woman’s ass through the fabric of his pants. Was she wearing a wig?
Like Finn’s grin, Will’s scowl only grew. What the hell was his deal?
Another brush against his groin, the dancer straightened up, threw her hands over her head, and dragged the fingers of one hand down the length of her other arm. Shimmying her chest forward and ass back, the sequins on her costume tinkled against each other. She was clearly intent on killing Finn and sending him to hell for sitting in a chair in front of a room full of people and letting a beautiful woman with curves in all the right places shake her ass in his face for three minutes. Was it only three minutes?
He resisted the urge to pull his shirt away from his neck. The last thing he needed was Will – or any of the other teammates that were making their way across the bar to stand next to him – making fun of him for not being able to handle the heat. Finn grinned at Linc and Russell, pulling his brows up and pursing his lips.
Riiiiight? Look how fucking cool this is.
Except neither of them seemed to agree with Finn’s assessment that it was in any way cool, or hot, and neither of them was in any way jelly that they weren’t in Finn’s shoes. What in an alternate dimension was going on? Were the dancers wearing masks? Was she underage? He cringed. She still hadn’t turned around but from behind she was a ten. Was it legal for him to think she was a ten? His chest tightened.
She took a step forward and Finn’s shoulders unclenched. She turned side-on and the curve of her breast hung in front of his eyes. She had a delicious rack – also clad in gold sequins. Surely she wasn’t underage. She couldn’t be. While he couldn’t see her face, he also couldn’t see a Chucky mask, so maybe his teammates were just feeling a bit of the green-eyed monster. He didn’t give a flying fuck what they thought, the woman standing in front of him was a perfect fucking ten.
He dragged his gaze up her collarbone, up the column of her neck, and to the profile of her face. Sharp, angular bones, protruding from behind the curtain of flame-red hair. As the music grew, she spun to face him and his perusal of the beautiful dancer lifting her leg, with any luck to throw it over his thigh and mount him, continued.
Wide, green, familiar eyes met his.
Shit.
Fuck.
Mother fucking fuckety fuck.
Molly. It was Molly.
Behind her, Russell smashed his fist into his mouth. Linc shifted so he stood a step in front of Will. Finn made a mental note to thank Linc for his protective instincts later. He flicked his gaze back to Molly, who’d stuttered to a halt and was staring, even wider eyed and open mouthed.
“Keep going!” The woman who’d picked Finn as a sacrificial lamb encouraged from the sideline with a wide smile and two thumbs up.
