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The light pink hue traveling up her neck and radiating to her cheeks reminds me of how innocent she really is.
“You ladies talking about me?” I place my hands on the back of Avery’s chair and lean down, inhaling her strawberry scented shampoo. There’s also a slight smell of… garlic? Odd, but I like it.
Rhett shoulders me out of the way—the bastard—kisses his sister on the top of her head, and sits down in the empty seat next to Lucy, pulling her in his lap and burying his face in her neck.
“We might have been talking about you.” Elle gives Tag a quick kiss before turning back to face me. “And if we were, it seems that your kissing skills are mediocre at best.”
Tag snags her beer, drains half of it, and nails me with a pitying look. “It’s okay, Craig. We can’t all be good kissers."
“James Bond is a bad kisser?” Lincoln sits down next to Tag and shakes his head. They’re all a bunch of dickheads. “Sorry, Avery. Tough luck.”
Avery blanches beside me and casually takes a sip of her drink. I have a strong urge to pull her over my lap and spank her until her ass turns a nice rosy shade of red.
Great.
Now I have a boner.
I grab Avery’s forearm and still her movements as she fiddles with her straw. Her gaze flicks between my face and my hand and her eyes widen. In the dim light, they almost look like a deep brown with veins of green running through the irises.
They’re beautiful.
With a low hum, I brush my fingers along her soft skin and lean forward, slowly closing the gap between us.
She doesn’t try to move away as I trace my number on the sleeve of her jersey and brush her wavy hair over her shoulder. I make sure the tips of my fingers sweep over her neck and down the length of her hair. A shiver runs down her body, and I can’t help but feel a little smug that I’m the one doing that to her; making her react to the barest touch from my fingers.
I bend over her, running my nose along her jaw.
I’m close enough to hear the hitch in her breath. To feel the slight tremble in her shoulders. To relish that even in the slightest way, I’m making her come undone.
That’s how she makes me feel, especially sitting here in my jersey with my name stamped on her back.
“If you wanted me to kiss you, Princess, you could have just asked.” My words are a whisper, and with every single one, my lip grazes against the shell of her ear. “I wouldn’t want to leave you with an ‘okay’ kiss.”
She turns to face me, and I back up enough to allow it; anything so I can stare into her eyes and see how pretty she is when she tries to lie to me.
“I didn’t want another kiss from you.”
I trace the slope of her nose with mine and her hands come to rest on my knees, her nails digging into my black dress pants. “Liar.”
“Foster.” Her voice is barely a breath, brushing across my lips. “We should think about setting some rules.”
“When it’s us, there are no rules. Just you and me, Princess. Just you and me against everyone else.”
Her eyes darken and she lets out a low moan. I trail my hand up her back and tangle my fingers in her hair. Her head tilts back slightly, and as I lean forward to give us both what we really need in this moment, someone slaps my back with their big meaty hand.
“What do you want to drink, dickhead?”
Rhett’s lip is curled, not in a happy way, and his eyes are narrowed on me. I ignore him, smile at the waitress, and because I know it will piss him off, meet Rhett’s stare. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
“Diet Coke for the macho hockey player, got it.”
I don’t need to see her to hear the sarcasm in her voice, but instead of changing my order to a whiskey and coke like I should, I tap Rhett on his stubbled cheek. “Do you need more attention, big guy?”
“Touch my face again, and I’ll rip your hand off.”
“Your sister might like me to keep both of my hands.”
Instead of answering me, he growls, the low rumble coming from deep within his chest. I chuckle and turn back around to face Avery, raising a brow. “You’re drinking diet soda? No alcohol? I thought you said you weren’t—”
