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She nods. “You bet your ass you were. When I ran into you, I thought you were such a pig.”
“I still am,” I quip, slipping my hand into her panties.
“You know what I mean,” she whispers. Her face twists into a painful expression when I shove my fingers inside her.
“Always so wet for me.” I dip my head down to kiss her neck as I fuck her with my fingers.
“Preston,” she moans.
“That’s it, baby.”
She tightens her grip on my fingers, holding them in a vise as she comes all over them. I raise them to my mouth to suck her juices. And in record time. Because the second I lick my fingers clean, the waitress strolls into the room with our salads. The air stinks of sex and Italian food.
She sets our salads in front of us, refills our wine glasses, and then disappears once more.
“That was a close call,” Bex says. “How awkward would that have been if I was in the middle of coming when she opened the door?”
“I guess it would have given her something to think about later.” I wink. “Because I wouldn’t have stopped trying to make you come.”
“You have no problem doing that.” Bex lifts her fork and digs into her salad, speaking between bites. “What time do your parents want my dad and me to come over for Thanksgiving?”
“Whenever. Everyone usually comes over for the kickoff of the first game. So around noon or so.”
She nods. “Who’s playing this year?”
“Bears and Lions, Redskins and Cowboys—”
“Ugh, I hate the Cowboys,” she interrupts.
“As any self-respecting Philadelphian should,” I say.
She laughs. “You sound like my dad.”
“Falcons and Saints are the late-night game,” I add. “I don’t know if you guys will want to stick around for that, but it’s kind of a house rule. No one leaves until the games are over.”
“I have to spend twelve hours at your parents’ house?” She stuffs her mouth with lettuce. “That’s a long-ass time. Turkey dinner with my dad usually consists of one of those take-out meals you can order from the supermarket followed by football and pumpkin pie. The night usually ends with him passed out on the couch, snoring.”
“Has it always been just the two of you?”
“Pretty much. My mom left so many years ago I can’t even remember what it’s like to have her around. Not like I would want her there anymore. But I did when I was younger. My parents are both only children, and so am I, so I never had aunts or uncles around. Grams passed away a few years ago. She would come over and help me cook until she got too sick to stand in the kitchen.”
“I’m glad you’re spending the day with us.” I cup her knee with my hand. “My family is big. You are warned. They will ask you tons of questions, probably hug the shit out of you. There might even be some kissing from my aunts who will die when they see you.”
“This is really that big of a deal for you? You never had a girlfriend in high school?”
“No. Just girls I hung out with. Nothing serious. Hockey has always been my number one priority. Every coach I ever had told me to focus on being the best and not to worry about settling down with a girl. My parents reinforced that, drilled it into my head.”
“I can see that,” she mutters. “Your schedule is so hectic. It doesn’t leave much time to date.”
“If anyone gets it, you do. That’s why this works so well with us.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “It does make it easier that we have similar practice and game schedules. I wish I could see more of your games.”
“I’m coming to your game against Villanova. We don’t have a game that weekend, and of course, my mom is going since that’s her alma mater.”
“Don’t go making me nervous.” She bites her lip. “So, your whole family will be at my game?”
“Pretty much.” I pat her arm to soothe her concerns. “No pressure.”
