I Bet You(55)

“Thank you for fixing my car.”

“Thank you for last night,” he says then kisses me gently. My arms go around him and we go from zero to a thousand in a heartbeat. I’m squirming against him, pressing myself against his hard cock. He murmurs my name as his hand slips around my lower back and slides under my skirt. Precisely why I wore it.

His mouth moves down my neck as his fingers dance over the silk of my underwear. He hitches my leg up and wraps it around his waist, his hand gliding up my thigh to my panties—

A car horn blows in the distance and we both laugh under our breaths as we separate.

He smirks down at me. “I guess it’s not a good idea to make out right in the middle of town.”

“No,” I agree, clearing my throat. Then I see his neck on the left side, the side that was facing away from me during the drive, and I bite back a smile.

“What is it?” he says when I let out a giggle.

“I gave you a hickey last night.” His eyes flare as I lean forward and touch the purple bruise near the base of his throat. “It’s barely noticeable,” I say.

I reach for my purse and pop out my compact mirror to let him see it.

He laughs and looks back at me. “Your mark.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “That’s right.”

“So…when can I see you again?” His voice is husky. He rests his forehead against mine when I don’t answer right away. “Well?”

“Why?”

He looks down at me. “I want you. You want me. There’s nothing complicated about that.”

I want you. It does sound simple, and I may have given him my V-card, but if this is just a let’s-fuck-a-while kind of thing then I want to play it cool. I have my pride. “What is it about me specifically you want?”

He looks at me. Arches a brow. “Really? Did I not just make you orgasm three times?”

I feel tension building in my chest, and I battle it down. I’m not going to be sucked into my insecurities right now. “I’m not a jersey chaser and I want things clarified.”

“Oh.” He stills, a line forming on his forehead as his brow pulls down.

“Are you planning on…doing laundry with anyone else soon?”

“No. I’ve been waiting on you to figure out that I’m the hot piece you want—not Connor.”

I grin. “Then you can see me soon.”

“Soon?” There’s a hint of impatience in his voice, but I ignore it.

I nod. “Text me later?”

He agrees.

“Now kiss me,” he says, pulling me back into his arms. My hands are already curling around his neck, missing the feel of his, the hardness of his muscles, the scent of him that lingers on his shirt. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, our tongues tangling, and when he pulls back to end the kiss, my mouth chases after his, wanting more.

He tells me he’ll text me later, and with a kiss goodbye, I walk to my car, crank it, and drive away.

I glance in the rear-view mirror and he’s still standing there, watching me.





Ryker



Blaze is adjusting his shoes when I walk into the locker room. The place is mostly empty since most of the team is already on the field. I’ve just come from working on the sidelines with the quarterback coach and popped in to grab a new jersey.

“Is that a hickey?” he says, laughing.

I touch my neck and grin at the memory.

“You look radiant as shit,” he comments with an eye waggle. “Get lucky last night?”

I smile. I’m already jonesing to see her. To slide between those perfect legs and feel like I’m home.

I just shrug.

He walks in closer. “Oh, you’re being tightlipped. Nice.” He grins. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Who was she?”

“Hmmmm.”

“You didn’t come back to the dorm,” he continues. “And you never do that. I even texted you this morning to check on you.”

It’s true. If I’m with a girl, it’s at my place and on my terms. But she’s different.

“Well?” he presses. “Who’s the girl?”

“Ah…” My eyes go to the bet board on the wall. The bet isn’t there, but it may as well be. Every guy on the team knows about it.

I scratch my jaw, not sure what to say.

I decide to play it off.

“I helped Penelope with her car. Flat tire. It was late…” My words linger off.

I turn back to my locker, hoping like hell he doesn’t ask more questions.

“Her tire? Again?”

Again? I toss a look at him over my shoulder. “Yeah. Why?”

He darts his gaze away but doesn’t say anything.

I frown. “What is it?”

He scratches his head. “Nothing. Just…she had a flat last week outside of Sugar’s.”

A spark of jealousy flashes through me at realizing he knew something about her that I didn’t. “I got her a new tire, so it won’t be flat again.”

“Cool.”

I study his closed-off face—which is weird. Blaze is an open book. In fact, usually he never shuts up.

I face him, giving him my full attention. Something is off. “So when was this? Did you help her?”