Page 65 of Off the Post

“Thanks,” she says in a soft whisper, toeing off her shoes before heading to the couch. She collapses in a heap, a heavy sigh leaving her lips, her limbs slumped over like a rag doll. “You got Tanner home in one piece?”

The fact that her first thought is of her brother’s wellbeing has my heart filling with an emotion I can’t quite place. Ali cares a lot about everyone and puts other people first.

“He’s fine. Passed out in his bed with water and a basket next to him, just in case.”

I struggle not to fidget, unsure of what I should do. What I want to do is make her night easier and take care of her for once. Someone should do that. “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Her hair fans out over the back of the cushion, and she casts a glance my way with one eye open and the other shut against the glare of the overhead lights. Without a word, I find the correct wall switch and dim them down a few notches.

“A glass of wine would be amazing. Thank you.” She extends her legs and props them up on the leather ottoman in front of her. “The white grigio is in the fridge and glasses are⁠—”

“In the cabinet next to it. Got it.”

I head into the kitchen, carefully remove a glass from an upper cabinet, and pull the bottle from the fridge, then pour out some wine. I recork and place it back inside next to a few beer cans, straightening them up slightly before I let the door swing shut.

I return to the living area and find Ali with her eyes closed, long lashes spilling over her cheeks, her face relaxed. When the couch dips as I take the spot next to her, she pries open a lid and extends her hand for the glass.

She takes a sip and then plops her head back against the cushion. “Aww. Now all I need is a deep tissue massage and ten hours of sleep and I’ll be back to running marathons.” She snickers.

I string my arm over the backside of the couch and let my fingers glide over the hair behind her neck, my fingers toying with the smooth strands before burrowing underneath and rubbing the tight muscles there.

The sigh she lets out sends Morse code signals straight to my cock.

“You did great today. Your brother couldn’t stop going on and on about how proud he is of you.”

She smiles sleepily. “My brother has always been one of my biggest cheerleaders, and I love him dearly for it, but Tanner is also blind to my many faults.” She takes another sip and swallows it down.

I watch her elegant throat work, wanting to trace the move with my tongue, and I scoot closer to her until my knee nudges Ali’s thigh. The edge of her golf skirt bunches up and exposes the creaminess of her leg. The skin-on-skin contact sends shivers up my spine.

My fingers curl and work along her neck as I begin to massage her muscles with tight circles. That in turn provokes grateful moans from Ali’s mouth, and I want to swallow them down with my own.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, Wolf.” She turns her head to face me. “It feels entirely too good and I’m not going to want you to stop.”

Ahh, fuck.

I didn’t plan for this to happen tonight. I only meant to stick around until she arrived to make sure she made it home safe.

Bullshit.

The noises she hums as I continue to rub have my dick growing rigid in my golf shorts. I was already on thin ice the moment she walked through the door, but hooking up in her brother’s apartment while he sleeps down the hall isn’t on my bingo card tonight or any night.

I continue my ministrations and plan my exit for once she falls asleep, which I believe is at any moment.

But she surprises me when she sits up, leans forward, and sets down the glass on the ottoman. Without a word, she stands, yanks her shirt over her head, and unceremoniously drops it to the floor.

“Is this a good idea?”

Ali spins around and wedges herself in front of me. I arch a brow, questioning the sanity of us getting together, and point my chin toward her brother’s bedroom.

She presses the palms of her hands together and tilts her head to the side to indicate sleep.

“He’s not going to wake up anytime soon,” she murmurs, and wiggles out of her skirt, throwing it next to the shirt. Next is her bra, the straps of which she seductively slides down her arms before she cups her breasts with her hands.

Her naked body is mere inches from me. I could reach out and run my fingers down her arms and across her belly, settle them between her legs. But I don’t make a move.

Ali registers my hesitation and hooks a thumb down the hallway behind her. “We can go to my room if it’s more comfortable for you.”

My hard-on strains against the zipper of my shorts while I consider this proposition. But my worries disappear the moment Ali climbs over my lap, straddling me in nothing but panties and a sexy grin.