Lovegame(123)

Instead, I pulled my shit together, bracing myself against her spell.

“Hey, smiley…” She leaned in for a hug-and-cheek-kiss combo, wreathing me in her custom perfume’s lush blend of vanilla, jasmine and the ocean. I knew, because I had a fresh batch made for her on my every trip to Paris. She wore her long hair up, and I fought the urge to tug it down. “Just for me, couldn’t you at least crack a hint of a smile?”

I tried and failed, but she hugged me again and I couldn’t help it, being with her was so amazing that a half-assed grin emerged like shy sun peeking out from behind clouds.

“There it is. God, it’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah.” An eternity, yet still not long enough.

“How have you been? Mom said your friends Liam and Ella finally had their baby?”

I nodded.

“Is she as adorable in person as she is in tabloids?” The media adored Ella, and she loved them back—for a price. She used all photo proceeds of the little princess to fund her battered women charity.

Shrugging, I said, “I guess she’s okay. If you go for that sort of thing.”

“Garrett, stop. You cloak yourself in this tough-guy persona, but it’s me. I see beyond your mean lawyer act.”

“Whatever.” The growing crowd pressed her closer. Heat radiated from her thighs to my needy fingertips. “Let’s talk about your residency. When do you leave for Boston?”

“Two weeks. Mom insists on me having a new wardrobe. I don’t have the heart to tell her I’ll spend ninety-five percent of my waking hours in scrubs and the rest sleeping.” My mouth went dry. Over Christmas, we’d fallen asleep together watching Scrooged. Her faded monroe prep T-shirt had ridden high, exposing the curve of her perfect ass in reindeer-themed boy shorts.

“Take care of yourself. I’ve heard…” The rest of my sentence was covered by too many drunken conversations and Jerry’s ridiculous wail.

“What?” She smiled and cupped her ear.

“Nothing!” I shouted above the band.

She shocked me by taking my hand, grabbing a bottle of Patrón from the bar, then guiding me through the club until reaching the deserted pro shop where only muted ghosts of the party remained.

After parking on a padded bench, she screwed the top off the bottle and chugged.

She coughed, then laughed. “That’s better. Part of me doesn’t believe med school’s really over. I knew it would be bad, but…” She took a few more chugs, then passed me the bottle.

I downed enough to catch up.

“Remember when we used to spend our whole summers at the club pool?”

“Sure.” My mind’s eye saw flashes—slanted cut scenes of her mounded breasts squeezed into a red bikini. Her belly, gently rounded and beaded with sweat. The bronzed backs of her thighs. The bits of forbidden skin the sun never got to kiss that I caught lucky glimpses of when she rolled over and thought no one was watching.

I drank a lot more, and handed her the bottle.

She downed more than she probably should have. “I used to watch you.”

“Yeah?”

“My friend Elaine told me you always had a towel over your lap because you were happy to see me.” She laughed before taking another few sips. “I told her she was full of shit. You’re my brother, right?”

I f*cking died—especially, considering my cock was in equally bad shape now.

“But there was this one time when you were home from school and I caught you getting out of the shower. You must have just jacked off, because you were still semi-hard. I’d heard girls at school talk about sex, and sure, I’d made out plenty of times, but that was the first cock I’d seen live and in-person.” She giggled.

“Glad my cock amused you.”

“Oh no…” She once again hit the bottle, then slid off the bench to perch between my legs. I stopped breathing when she leaned forward, kissing my package. “I’m sorry, giant, beautiful cock. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She laughed and laughed.

“Jesus, stop. This isn’t funny.” I tried shifting from her, but that only made her more determined.

“No, really…” She clasped her hands on my knees, burying her face in my crotch. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be together? Like we’re brother and sister, but not really. It’s such a wicked taboo, but why, you know?” She palmed me, and I damn near lost my shit.

I’d never been harder. Like f*cking never.

Using my knees for leverage, she rose high enough to kiss me, and I was lost.

How long had I waited to feel her pouty-full lips crushed against mine? I slipped her my tongue and we were off. Flying high on what had apparently been years of mutual curiosity.

She stood the rest of the way, landing her honey box against my face. Momentarily stunned, the alcohol fogged my reaction time. It didn’t take long for my hands to catch onto her drunken offer.

I shoved up her dress to find she still preferred boy shorts, but in a silky-smooth variety. I tugged them down, pushing apart her legs, then nipping at her inner thighs, and then higher, until I was spreading her and tonguing her and loving the way she’d fisted her fingers in my hair, pulling harder the deeper I plunged.

“Holy f*ck…” she said on the heels of a moan.