Page 71 of Unforgettable Player

“Hey, you look good,” he says when I get in.

I scoff. “You look good.”

He’s wearing jeans and he keeps readjusting himself like his underwear is uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” He smirks. “Yeah, fine.”

What was that smirk about?

“Where shall we go?” he asks before I can probe any deeper.

I bite my lip, admiring that spot on the side of his neck that would be so good to suck on. “Can’t we just stay in the car?”

“Sure.”

“I mean … park up somewhere quiet.”

His lips quirk. “Oh.” He glances at the space between my legs and the dashboard. “This car’s way too small for my bulky-ass body to fuck in.”

Imagery unhelpfully rushes to the forefront. Connor kneeling in front of me in the tiny space and pulling my dick out. Kneeling on the backseat while he sidles in behind me, gripping my hips and pulling down my pants. If I don’t get to have him to myself at some point tonight, I’m going to explode.

He tugs on the crotch of his jeans again and shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. What is wrong with his underwear?

“Let’s get a hotel room,” he says. “I wanna take my time with you tonight.”

My entire body floods with heat at the concept of being alone—truly alone—with Connor, and whatever he has planned.

He tosses his phone onto my lap and tells me to look up hotel rooms in the area. “My card details should be stored on there.”

I scroll through local hotels, trying to find the cheapest one. Like he can read my mind, Connor says, “Get somewhere nice. Is the Hilton available?”

“Yeah, it’s $191 a night.”

“Perfect, get that one.”

“Are you sure? It’s kind of pricey.”

“Eli.” He grins. “Believe me, I can’t think of anything better to spend my money on.”

“You make me sound like a hooker.”

“I think the preferred term is ‘sex worker.’”

He pokes me and I blush.

“You know I’m not paying for you, right?”

“I don’t think I’d get $191 if you were.”

“Are you kidding? I’d pay at least a grand for you.”

“Okay, this is getting weird.”

He laughs. “How much would you pay for me?”

I roll my eyes, still blushing. “I’d pay just to watch you strip,” I admit.