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“A dick?” Jessie suggests.
“You have dicks on the brain,” I say.
“Not where I like them.” she admits.
I clear my throat because I’m thinking about giving her my dick again. Pretty sure that option flew out the window when I walked out of the bathroom. With nothing else to say, I read the slip of paper. “I come in many sizes. It feels good when you blow me.” I groan.
Jessie sets the glue gun down, getting to her feet. She hands me Timothy’s freshly decorated phone and taps me on the nose. “Boop.”
“Right! Nose.” Mina laughs.
Jessie’s eyebrows lift and she blinks innocently at me. “Want me to explain it to you?”
“I get it,” I say, but she’s standing too close. If we were alone in this kitchen, I’d throw her over my shoulder, haul her over to the mistletoe, and kiss the shit out of her. Then she could demonstrate exactly what this little riddle means by blowing me.
Which would be a mistake. A mistake I don’t think I could stop myself from making—what is it about this woman that has me crossing lines and ignoring warning signs?
My head is full of her. The smell of her, the way she tastes, the sound of her laugh, and the softness of her skin. There isn’t room for anything else.
My hormones have a lot to answer for.
Tonight will save me. I’ll be locked in a poker game with Timothy and a bunch of his friends. With a little luck, I won’t see Jessie until morning. I’ll have my shit under control.
A couple of Timothy’s old high school friends—the only ones he’s more or less kept in contact with over the years—turn up after dinner. I never bothered to keep in touch, since they were more his friends than mine. And I loathed Scotty Bryant.
“How’s your sister?” Scotty asks Timothy, and my grip tightens on my beer.
“Still off-limits,” Timothy says. His tone is good-natured. His eyes are not.
I take a swig of beer and wonder if this applies to me.
“I forgot how much I don’t like him,” Timothy whispers to me later, jerking his chin toward Scotty.
A handful of stunt guys who flew in from LA for the wedding show up and I’m happy to see Danny among them. There’s at least one other person here I can stand.
The night begins with pool and darts and moves on to poker. I move on to whiskey but I’m taking it slow.
Somewhere upstairs, Jessie’s playing games in skinny jeans and a black shirt with an exposed midriff. Red, red pouty lips. I’d caught a glimpse of her earlier through a crack in the door of our shared bathroom. Pausing to watch her apply her lipstick felt illicit. The drag of the red stick over those lush lips was obscene. My desire to grab her chin and smear that color with my thumb was balanced only by my desire to not be murdered.
She caught me peeping. The smile she gave me was suggestive and cruel. My heart stopped when she walked up. I could already taste her kiss. Until she slammed the door in my face.
She’s making me pay for it. Hopefully, she’s still thinking about my hands on her, my kiss, the way my cock—
“You’re up, man.”
I don’t look at my cards. “Check.” Playing blind is my only shot at winning. Timothy knows all my tells. Except whatever will give away the fact that I fucked Jessie. If he knew, he wouldn’t keep silent, therefore he doesn’t know.
It was supposed to be one time. That’s why I touched her like that. Kissed her like that. It could only be once, and I wanted to remember it. I wanted her to remember it.
I want to fuck her again.
Goddammit.
“Nic?”
I’m not going to throw myself at her feet, begging for more. No way. “All in.”
I win on a pair of twos.
