Page 39 of Playing By The Rules

“What’s gotten into you?” I ask.

“I’m your new babysitter.” When I don’t respond, he continues, “Knox sent me over here to keep watch over you and tell everyone else to back the fuck off.”

Cam sends a pointed look in Ace’s direction.

Huh?

“I’m just being friendly, QB.” Ace lifts his hands up like he’s being held at gunpoint, just before he starts laughing.

He doesn’t seem to take too much seriously, which is the complete opposite of Cam.

“Friendly, my ass,” Cam mutters under his breath, shooting invisible daggers at Ace with his eyes.

“Oh, calm down.” I reach out and settle my hand on his thigh, giving it a platonic pat and he quickly settles his hand on top of mine, trapping it there. I lift my gaze to his, suddenly breathless.

He angles his head away from mine, answering a question one of the guys asked him, his grip gentling but not moving. I’m able to splay my fingers out, touching as much of his thigh as I can, marveling at the muscle I feel beneath my palm.

He’s rock hard and so freaking hot. I swear my hand is going to go up in flames if I keep it here much longer. But I don’t want to stop touching him. In fact, I test him to see how far I can take it before he pushes me away.

I slide my hand inward, my fingers shifting to the inside of his thigh and he doesn’t stop me. Keeping my gaze focused on the table in front of me, I stroke my index finger back and forth. Slowly.

Cam doesn’t push my hand away. He doesn’t stop me either when I shift my hand higher, close enough to touch his crotch. My heart racing, my breaths accelerating. I lift my head, my gaze seeking his.

He’s not even looking in my direction, engaged in conversation with his teammates, but there’s a tic in his jaw. Like he’s barely restraining himself. As if my touch affects him.

Of course, it does. I’m zeroing in on his junk. It doesn’t matter who I am, he’s going to enjoy it.

Feeling emboldened, I brush the side of my hand against him, shocked to discover that he’s…already hard?

I snatch my hand away, my entire body going hot. Blindly, I reach for my mug and chug the rest of it in a couple of swallows, needing the liquid to cool me down. I chance a look at him to find he’s watching me, his expression impassive. No emotion noted.

Just before he settles that big hand of his on my knee.

I’m tense. Aware of his hand on me. It’s innocent enough yet not. This is all taking place beneath the table, where no one else can see us, and my brother is sitting in the next booth over, which is dangerous. Though I can see from the corner of my eye that Knox is flirting with some random fangirl when he has the sweet and beautiful Joanna sitting right there in front of him.

My brother is such a bonehead.

“You need another beer?” Cam’s voice is low, his focus entirely on me.

I stare into his eyes, my lips parting, all the air leaving me when he slides his hand up my leg, his fingers curving, sliding to the inside of my thigh. I clamp my legs together, trapping his hand, he smiles, the look on his face…

Sexy.

Slowly, I shake my head, unable to speak. His hand struggles to move between my locked thighs and I spread them a little to give him room. He shifts closer, his hand sweeping back and forth, getting closer. Closer…

“Hey, Blair! You should come to my frat tomorrow,” Ace says.

Cam glares at him, but Ace is oblivious.

“Um, why?”

“We’re having a big bash. Chasing away the Sunday blues. Would love to see you there. Already invited everyone else at the table, can’t forget Maguire’s sister.” Ace grins.

“You’d be smart to forget all about her,” Cam says like a freakin’ threat.

I send him a look, but he’s not paying attention to me. Well, with his eyes anyway.

His hand though? That’s now firmly lodged directly between my thighs, pressing right against the seam of my jeans.

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