Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(4)

“Right,” I snort. “First, she’s my friend and I’m not going to use her for stuff like that, and second, why would I call you? I don’t know you.”

Will smiles softly and raises a hand to my face, tips my chin up with his forefinger, making me look him in the eye. He’s so tall, he towers over me, but he’s leaning down to me. His bright blue eyes watch me lick my lips and when I bite my lower lip he inhales sharply and pins my dark eyes in his gaze.

His hand lightly cups my jaw and he raises his other hand to lightly brush my hair back off my shoulder, and I am just lost in his eyes. I can’t move. I should push him away. I don’t do this. I don’t let strange men touch me in public restrooms while their entire family sits outside chatting and laughing and eating.

But I can’t look away.

He lowers his face to mine, brushes my lips ever so gently, smiles down at me in that cocky way that he’s known for, and sinks into me, burying his hands in my hair, holding my face so he can move his mouth against mine.

Holy shit, he’s good at this kissing stuff. His lips are soft, yet firm, and that somehow makes perfect sense to me. They move with precision and purpose, across my lips and back again. I moan and wrap my arms around his waist, lean into him, and Will groans against me and suddenly this kiss has turned into not just want, but need. His tongue invades my mouth, twirling and dancing with my own. I reach up, wrap my arms around his neck and twist my fingers into his gloriously soft hair and practically climb up him, trying to get closer.

Finally, he cups my ass in his large hands and lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist and before I know it, my back is braced against the door, Will is leaning on me, keeping me firmly in place, and is still kissing the shit out of me.

Holy f*ck this man can kiss.

“God, you’re sweet,” he murmurs and nibbles and kisses his way across my jawline to my ear and down my neck. “We could have a lot of fun together, baby.”

Baby? And just as if I’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water, I come to my senses. I’m about to get it on in a public restroom – ew! – with Will Montgomery.

No!

“Stop,” I demand, my voice firm.





Chapter Two


“You don’t want me to stop.”

He pushes his pelvis against my center and I bite my lip to stop the moan that wants to come from my throat.

“I said stop, Will.”

He pulls back and looks me in the eye, panting, his eyes narrowed. He shakes his head as if he’s clearing it and gently lowers me to the floor. My knees almost buckle beneath me, and he steadies me, his hands on my shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I’m not doing this with you. Ever.”

He steps back, runs those fantastic hands through his hair, takes a deep breath and clenches his eyes shut. “Okay.” He swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I thought you were interested.”

“Let’s get something straight right now. I’m not some stupid sports groupie who’s dying to get into your pants and I’m not your baby.” God, I hate being called that.

“I apologize again, for the misunderstanding regarding my PR people, and for this.” His voice is steady now, his breathing under control and he shoves his hands into his pockets. Wow, he’s handsome.

I lick my lips, still tasting him on me.

“If you’ll step aside, I’ll leave you alone.” I suddenly hate this polite coldness I’m getting from him. I wish he’d take me in his arms again and kiss me, and I hate myself just a little for it.

Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought, but he’s not for me.

I quickly move out of his way, and he unlocks the restroom door. Before he opens it, he looks back at me and offers me a half grin, winks, and leaves me alone.

My eyes find my own in the mirror. They’re a bit glassy from too much wine and lust. My hair is just a bit messy, but I styled it that way to begin with, so no biggie. Aside from my lip gloss having been kissed off, I look the same as I did when I walked in here.

So why does it feel like everything is about to change?



*



“Okay, what are we drinking to this time?” I ask and look around the table at my friends and their men. All of the parents left the party a few hours ago, and all that’s left are Jules and Nate, Natalie and Luke, Stacy and Isaac, Brynna, Matt, Caleb and Will. All of the other guests have gone home, leaving the eleven of us to drink shots and laugh and catch up.

I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

If I drink this next shot, I just might forget the escapade in the bathroom with Will.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Speaking of Will, he keeps watching me, sipping a beer, quiet. But I ignore him and lift another shot of tequila in the air. So far, we’ve toasted babies, rock and roll, tattoos, shopping, and shopping again.

“Here’s to orgasms, and the three I’m going to have tonight!” Natalie exclaims, earning fits of giggles from the rest of us girls while the boys – all except for Luke – grumble about TMI.

“To orgasms!” we all concur and slam the shot.

I stopped using the training wheels of lime and salt three shots ago.

I glance back over at Will, who’s now in a deep conversation with his brother Caleb, and despite my clearly drunk state, my thighs clench just at the sight of him. Geez. He’s all broad shoulders and muscles and blue eyes and his shaggy dark blonde hair is all messy from his fingers, and mine, and I want to give it a good tug.