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This guy's goal was to recreate someone's twenty-first birthday. Lake watched humorously as Candy and I tapped shot glasses together and downed something that resembled expired Robitussin, assaulting my taste buds as it slid down my throat.
My visit to the restroom provided more frustrations. While using the bathroom, I overheard a slew of women near the sink discussing their plans for the famous Lake Decker later that night. Discussions of sex with the football star reached my ears as they detailed not only what they'd heard about him in the sack but also what they planned to do to one up that. I felt a different type of churning inside me, and while I was glad no one had suspected he was with anyone, I was also simultaneously angered by it.
My mood, which had been altered by the jealousy growing deep within me, was immediately lifted upon seeing the bright smile that met me when I exited the restrooms. I warmed all over, my heart pounding to a new beat at the sight of his eyes on me alone. Even if Lake had been the guy who'd normally taken up a woman's offer to seal the deal at bar time, I had hoped that what we had meant more to him. That I was more than just a challenge to a guy who could have anyone he wanted.
I had to be naïve to think I could be the one.
After Candy's horrible karaoke rendition of Whitney Houston, the lights came on, sparking the dark corners of the wooden bar to life, filtering out the bodies that had taken up those hidden spaces. The remaining players, who were still stretching the most out of the evening alongside us, were slowly filtering out of the place.
People began leaving, getting safe rides home with each other as the cool, crisp evening honed in on us. Candy parted ways with his arms braced around the shoulders of two beautiful women, who I'm sure had plans to enjoy all the sweetness he had to offer. We said our goodbyes and the parking lot grew silent.
Lake slid his hand into mine, pulling me towards the driver's side of the truck, tucked away from the view of anyone else lingering.
“What are you doing?” I ask, a grin toying with my lips.
“That was practically unbearable for me,” he says, pushing me up against the door as if he's been waiting forever for the opportunity. “Tell me I can kiss you again.”
I study his face above me, his hands braced on the frame of the large truck behind me, eyes focused on my mouth, his pouty lips eager and waiting.
“No,” I reply quickly.
His shoulders slump slightly, and I deliver a devilish grin, turning around to get in the truck. He drops his head against the truck’s frame, letting out a whiny groan before I pop open the door, pushing him out of the way to climb across the driver's seat and slide into mine.
He remains there, sulking in the aftermath of being turned down, so I lean over the seat until his eyes lock onto mine.
“You think that just because we're out of sight, you get a free pass to do what you want with me?” I smirk as he cocks his head towards me. “Nah, I'm not that easy. You still gotta woo me, hotshot.”
He sighs for a moment outside the vehicle, attempting to get himself together before he hops in, giving me a quick, playful glare.
“You're even more sassy when you're tipsy.” He flashes that sexy smirk, the curve of his smile intoxicating. “It's unfortunate for you I like that.”
Tipsy, I was. Even more, I was lustful now. Horny and needy.
“Classic Lake Decker,” I reply cheekily. “Always up for a challenge, aren't you?”
He looks me up and down, licking his lips before peering back into my eyes, and I can't breathe.
“It's why I'm the best in the game, baby,” he coos, and I'm a puddle at his feet.
He called me baby.
Lake called me baby.
Butterflies need rehab.
Before I melt into a puddle of useless admiration at his feet, I summon the strength I need to fight for whatever weak woman lies buried beneath the alcohol and the wordbaby, remembering the words of the women in the restroom. My goal isn't to fuck Lake. I've done that. It was to somehow maintain this fling while keeping feelings in check and not allowing anyone to know about it.What a mess this has become.
“You won't win if you make me out to be a prize,” I retort.
“You say that now.” He grins, twisting his keys in the ignition. “But by Wednesday, you'll be on your knees, begging for some Lake in your life.”
My eyes narrow at the specific comment. I'm reminded of my need to check the planner. He must've penciled something in.Little shit.
Even so, I have a feeling it won't take till Wednesday for me to be on my knees for this man again.
The engine roars to life, and I watch the corded muscles in his forearms as he clutches the shift and throws it into reverse. His torso turns as he grabs the back of my seat, looking behind us while his other massive hand grips the steering wheel, maneuvering us back out of our spot.
I'm staring at him like a psycho would, but I can't help it. The way he operates this massive truck with such ease is turning me on, and I can't understand why. Nothing about this is sexual at all, yet here I am, wishing he'd control me like he's controlling this metal on wheels beneath us. It's the alcohol.
