“Wish I could help you out with that, Fireball, but this outfit isn’t quite the easy access I’d need.” I smirk wickedly at her, easing back a fraction more. Sliding my hand from her neck, along her shoulder and then arm until I reach her hip, I grip her tightly. “Don’t move.”
Glancing over my shoulder to the rest of the bar, I don’t notice anyone looking in our direction, and between the cover she offers and the quiet corner I found us, I stick a hand into my pocket and the other down the front of my pants. It’s fucking hell because all my cock wants is attention, and I’m giving it nothing but a solid adjustment so that it’s hidden between my stomach and the belt of my pants, tucked under my shirt.
When Jordan coughs, clearly trying to hide a giggle, I look up at her. “You’re a brat.”
“You don’t hate it.”
My eyes narrow at her. She isn’t wrong. “You gonna survive whatever your aunt has in store for us? She was plotting something.”
“Are you?”
She smirks, gathering her dark hair at the back of her head. Given how hot she looks, I’d bet she’d put it up if she could. Which would be awful for me. That neck of hers beckons to be touched, and being exposed would do nothing for my control that’s hanging on by a thread.
“They love me. How hard can this be?”
Turns out, harder than I anticipated. When we got back to the table, they were ready for us. For starters, I’d forgotten all about the drinks. Aunt Laura wouldn’t stop giving me shit over that one, claiming how crazy for Jordan I must be to forget something that had happened five minutes prior.
Then she brought up her stipulations for the game—a game I’d already agreed to.
For every sunken ball, the losing team not only had to drink the beer but also had to answer a question. Can’t say I had a lot of burning questions for either one of Jordan’s aunts, but despite Jordan’s warning, I figured it would be harmless.
You fucking moron.
These women have only ever batted their lashes at me and asked when I was going to find a woman to settle down with. They’re older, they’re sweet, they enjoy the attention I give them. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard the horror stories. Hell, I should have taken Nate wanting me to fake date Jordan as a blaring warning sign. But I can be a cocky fucker.
Tonight that bit me in the ass.
The other thing I didn’t anticipate was how fucking good these two would be at this game. Jordan and I have sunk a total of four balls to their nine. Nine fucking balls. Apparently one shouldn’t underestimate the power of an older woman with some balls. Lesson learned.
Part of me thinks Jordan is losing on purpose. Payback for me agreeing to this damn game in the first place. She’s been prettysilent on most of the questions, so it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m pretty sure she’s enjoying it.
The questions started out simple enough. When did you change your mind on dating? When Jordan became single. How long have you two been dating? Not long. What was your favorite date? The Grand Canyon. Are you going to turn into a schmuck like the last guy? Don’t plan on it. What’s your family like? My dad is awesome.
That’s when the questions started to get a little trickier, and I had to start dodging things. Which is weird because the line of questioning they pelted at me is generally something easy for me to answer. But standing here with Jordan, pretending to date while actually fucking all week, I’ve found it awkward as hell.
Have you two been in a fight yet? We’re still in the honeymoon stage. Is Jordan okay with your previous behavior? Apparently my reputation precedes me, but Jordan answered it with a resounding yes. Do you want to get married? Never thought about it. Do you want kids? Again, not something I’ve thought about.
Jordan gave them both a warning after that question. Despite my casual answers, and what I hope is nonchalant demeanor, I think she can tell that I’m growing increasingly uncomfortable. I know the aunts both want better answers from me, but I don’t have them to give. The pressure is fucking real when it comes to these women.
Not only that, but a crowd has started to gather. Hailey and Luke, Quinn, Savanna, and her friend Maddie, a couple of uncles—the husbands of Aunt Laura and Aunt Shirley, the rest of the aunts, and Jordan’s mom. I’m just glad Nate hasn’t decided to poke his head into the fun, but he and Brody are busy playing golf with Savanna’s brothers.
“Yes!” Aunt Laura throws her hands in the air, claiming thevictory for their team as her last ball drops into the last cup on our end.
It was only a matter of time.
“Well, we tried,” I say, slinging an arm around Jordan’s shoulders.
She looks up at me with a sly smile. “Did we?”
“I fucking knew it.”
With a devious giggle, she shrugs beneath my arm. “Sometimes you need to be taken down a notch. This seemed like one of those times.”
“One last question, Liam,” Aunt Shirley calls from the other end of the table. The glee is palpable as she rubs her hands together. “And it’s the best question yet.”
Naturally this gets everyone’s attention. Of course they’d save the “best” for last.
I puff my chest out, full of confidence. “Hit me.”
