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“I don’t think we were done. Why are you here tonight?”
“This is a public club. I’m allowed to go wherever I would like.”
“No kidding. I meant why are you here on the night of Cory’s bachelor party?” He released her arm and pushed his hand into his back pocket. She couldn’t be sure in this light, but she was willing to bet he’d worn super tight jeans, like he usually had as a teenager. “Kind of coincidental, don’t you think?”
She sniffed. “I can’t say.”
“Oh, I bet you can. This has the markings of my sister all over it.” He nudged her against the wall and braced his hands on either side of her waist. “C’mon, Jilly Bean, ’fess up. What’s Vic up to?”
“Do not call me Jilly Bean,” she hissed, glancing to the right and left in case they’d been overheard. For a girl trying to shed her staid reputation, a childhood nickname like Jilly Bean was worse than the kiss of death. It was the kiss of purity, and Lord knew she already had plenty of that.
“Why? It’s your name, isn’t it?” He touched a purple strand of hair clinging to her cheek. “You might look a little different, but you’re the same innocent—”
“I’m not freaking innocent.” She went with her impulse and gave him a live demonstration by palming his cock through his jeans, right there against the side of the building. She flashed him a triumphant smile when a tremor went through his body, and she curled her fingers that much tighter. “Now,” she purred, “what was that you were saying?”
…
His little sister’s sweet best friend had her hand on his cock. And she wasn’t fumbling or blushing or shaking, either.
On the other hand, he wasn’t too far from shuddering. Little sister’s best friend. Little sister’s best friend. Little sister’s best friend.
Maybe if he kept chanting that in his head, he wouldn’t push up her skirt to see if she was as ready to play as she seemed. The only thing that seemed to undermine her casually sexual demeanor was the way she averted her gaze, as if she were afraid to look him in the eye while she rocked his world.
Evidently, lots of people had changed recently—including him.
For months, he’d been riding the straight and narrow. He hadn’t taken a lover, had barely had a drop to drink. Ever since he’d heard the Mariners might not be renewing his contract, he’d given up the beer, females, and taco dip for a cleaner lifestyle. But with one look at that rounded ass and those fuck-me blue eyes, he couldn’t remember why he was supposed to say no.
It had been a long time since they’d seen each other for more than a few minutes at a stretch. One of the reasons he’d been glad to leave town years ago had been his hope of avoiding this. If they couldn’t even say hello without one of them groping the other, clearly they needed to retreat to opposite corners of the universe.
Get a hold of yourself.
He knew better. She was too sweet and wholesome for him, hand on his cock notwithstanding. One night of sex with her would turn into another night, and that would turn into what it always turned into with him. Eventually, he’d let her down. The way he always let his lovers down. That might be okay when it happened with random girls hyped up to sleep with a football star, but with Jill? His sister’s best friend? No way.
Besides, getting back to football required his entire focus. His image needed to be shined up, and that meant no wine, no women, and no thongs. Certainly not his little sister’s best friend’s hand rubbing against him, making him harder than a rock.
Not to mention he wasn’t in town long enough to get involved with anyone. Especially anyone who would only complicate his already complicated life with a capital C.
“What the hell are you doing?” he gritted out, pressing his knuckles into the brick wall. Even the quick bite of pressure didn’t distract him from the sudden heaviness between his legs. Jesus, Jill had some grip on her.
“Right now? I’m stroking your cock.”
For a second, he could’ve sworn he heard her teeth chattering. Was she really that cold or could she be more nervous than she seemed?
“Thanks for the update,” he said.
“It’s a pretty big one, too, isn’t it?” Her breathing stuttered. “I mean, nothing astronomical, but large enough as they go.”
“What do you know about cocks?” The response was a knee-jerk reaction to his dented pride. Later, he might feel guilty about it. Maybe. “A chaste girl like you.”
The words seemed wrong even as he said them. She damn well didn’t seem chaste anymore, other than those small signs of nerves. If that was even what they were.
But it was too late to take it back. Her shoulders caved in, and she bowed her head. Dammit, he’d hurt her feelings. He immediately gripped her hips and moved closer, intending to apologize. Instead she tilted up her chin and shot him a challenging look an angel couldn’t have resisted.
And he was no fucking angel.
“You’ve clearly gotten the wrong idea about me,” she said, her eyes flashing heat even in the cool winter night. The lights around the building didn’t offer much illumination, but he could see the fire in her gaze with no trouble. “But even if you hadn’t”—she opened her legs a fraction, putting his thumbs dangerously low on her inner thighs—“consider this your invitation to show me what I’ve missed.”
His brain scrambled, all the blood in his system surging south. Hell no. He wasn’t going there with her again, not ever. Despite the fact that he could remember exactly how eagerly her lips had parted under his all those years ago. There was no reason to remember. He’d been with plenty of women since.
