Good Boy (WAGs #1)(33)

“But that’s all she does! This nursing program is literally the only thing we have in common.”

“No, it’s not.”

I roll my eyes. “You know something about Violet that I don’t?”

“I know something about college,” he says with a shrug. “Thing about college, Jessie, is that it’s goddamn stressful.”

I can’t help but snort. “Uh-huh, I’m sure you were so stressed at whatever party school you went to. All those exhausting frat parties! God! How did you ever survive?”

He wags a finger at me. “Well, aren’t we judgy. I needed a C-average to be eligible to play hockey—you think I kept that up without going to class? I went to class, dudette. I even wrote a few papers. Typed them up and everything.”

Guilt pokes at me. I really do need to stop judging this guy. “Sorry,” I mumble.

He waves off the apology. “Anyway, school means stress. And stress makes everyone a little bitchy.”

“So you’re saying I should be patient with Violet?”

“I’m saying you should get trashed with her. Fuck studying. Take Bitchy Betty to a bar and get lit. I guarantee you’ll find some common ground if you both let down your guards.”

I stare at him.

“What?”

“That’s not bad advice.”

“Course it’s not. It’s grade-A wisdom.”

I bite my lip again. “What happens if we go to a bar—that’s if she even agrees to it—and we’ve got nothing to talk about?”

“Naw, that won’t happen. Text me the deets. I’ll come along. People always have shit to say to me.”

He’s right about that. “You’re inviting yourself to my roommate bonding date?” I say with a grin.

“Why not? I’ll bring a couple of the guys. Maybe Bitchy Betty is just bitchy because she needs a good lay. Is she cute?”

“Violet?” I picture her stern face. She’s so severe that it’s hard to objectively assess her appearance. “I guess she’s cute,” I finally answer. “She’s got great skin, and she’s very petite. Like a china doll. Brown eyes, glasses—”

“Lemming,” Blake interrupts. “Yeah, Lemming will be all over that. He’s got a librarian fetish.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Every away game, he asks the team manager to try to put us up in a hotel that’s got some business conference going on. Then he sits in the bar and waits for a glasses-and-pantsuit-wearing broad to walk in.” Blake grins. “My friends are the coolest.”

“Your friends are the weirdest.” My teeth dig into my lower lip. “I don’t know how Violet will feel about hanging out with a bunch of rowdy hockey players.”

“She’ll love it,” he assures me. “And would you quit biting your lip like that? It’s making my dick hard.”

Shaking my head, I pick up the knife again and get back to dicing. “I should’ve known you couldn’t go five minutes without bringing up your stupid dick.”

“My dick isn’t stupid. He’s the smartest fella I know.” Blake slides that enormous body off the counter and lazily approaches me.

I stiffen, but for some reason, I don’t move. I just stay put as he slowly eases in behind me, planting both hands on my hips as he nuzzles the nape of my neck.

My pulse quickens. Damn it. Why is he so frickin’ sexual? And why does he smell so good? I’ve got an onion right under my nose, yet all I can breathe in is Blake’s woodsy scent.

“Jess…”

I squeak when his groin tucks up against my butt. Oh my God, he is hard. Unbelievably, mouth-wateringly hard, and his erection is so impressive that I choke down a moan. The first and only time he’d slid that huge monster inside me, I almost came on the spot. I’d never felt more full in my entire life.

“Jess,” he murmurs again.

I find my voice. “Mmmm?”

He rotates his hips, and a jolt of desire shoots down to my core. “I haven’t had sex since June.”

The hoarsely voiced confession startles me. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”

“It’s the truth. Haven’t been with anyone since I went down on you at the wedding.”

I’m tempted to turn around so I can look into his eyes, gauge if he’s telling the truth. But I’m afraid that if do, the lust I’ll find on his face will shatter my defenses.

“I jerk it every night thinking about you,” he rasps, his lips tickling the shell of my ear. “So for the love of God, babe, why don’t you put me out of my misery and throw me a bone? You know I’ll make it good for you.”

I have no doubt about that. My gaze unwittingly travels across the open-concept space and lands on the massage chair. Every square inch of my body begins to tingle as dirty, filthy images flood my mind. Blake unzipping his pants while I wiggled out of mine. Blake’s teeth sinking into my neck as his hands toyed with my breasts. His low growl of need as he lowered me onto his cock and—

“Jess! You here?”

Blake and I break apart at Jamie’s shout. I immediately pick up the knife, while Blake slides to the other side of the counter. My cheeks are hot enough to start a brush fire, and I pray that Jamie doesn’t comment on it.