Overnight Sensation(4)

“But you’re not down with that plan?” I stroke my thumb across her hand, and Heidi shivers almost imperceptibly.

Her gaze returns to our joined hands. “Weddings are a snore. Lawyers are, too. The ones I’ve met, anyway.”

“Your taste runs more to hockey players, I assume?”

Now her cheeks are on fire. “When the mood strikes,” she says primly, removing her hand from mine. “More tequila, maybe?”

When the mood strikes. Jesus. She’s going to make me work for it. And I’m a hundred percent down with that.

This girl is teasing me in the best possible way. She pushes her shot glass closer to me, then raises that kissable face to look at me. And there’s a challenge in her eyes that I plan to answer with a whole lot more than a couple of drinks.

For now, though, I pick up the bottle and pour.





2





Heidi


I’ve always kept a wish list. When I was a preteen, it lived in one of those journals with the tiny lock and key. But now I keep it on my phone, updating it whenever the mood strikes.

My list is pretty long. Some of the wishes are awfully materialistic, like designer shoes and luxury cosmetics. I could really use a shade of lipstick that’s just a little pinker than Sassy Petal, but not too pale.

But some items can’t be bought in a store. For example, I need to figure out if I have any marketable skills. That’s close to the top of the list. And while I’m at it, I really want one of the Katt phones that the Bruisers players all have. Those are super cool. The team owner—Nate Kattenberger—only gives them out to official employees of the team. My internship doesn’t count.

But also? I’ve been wishing hard for a hookup with Jason Castro. And tonight it seems possible. Somebody pinch me, and please let it be him.

As I watch him pour tequila into my shot glass, I have to wonder where my good fortune is coming from. Why tonight? I’ve angled for this before, but he never responded. And maybe I shouldn’t count unhatched chickens. I still need to seal the deal.

“Here you are,” Castro says, passing the shot glass back to me.

There’s a little drip on the rim. I tidy it up with my fingertip, and then suck the drop of liquor off my finger.

And—dear Lord—Castro’s eyes go one shade darker than they already were. His gaze focuses on my lips. Just to be sure I’m not crazy, I draw it out a moment, tonguing the tip of my finger.

He makes a low sound that’s impossible to describe, except for the way that it affects me. My body tightens in a host of private places. No man has ever watched me as intently as he is right now.

And it is intoxicating. Forget tequila. I feel high on a brand-new drug—courage.

“Cheers,” I say in a perky voice, and then we clink our glasses together. I toss my second shot back and then reach for the limes. This time I’m ready for the alcohol’s burn. I always was a quick study. I could rock that psychology degree if I wanted to.

But I don’t. So here I am, watching my favorite athlete pour his tequila shot down his beautiful throat.

Up until this moment, today has been wretched. Daddy blew up my inbox with angry voicemails, until I had to shut off the phone completely. He’s furious that I’m not going back for my senior year at Bryn Mawr. I don’t think he’ll ever get over it.

I’m just going to have to learn to be okay with that.

Not that it’s easy. I’m used to being a good girl. I never refuse Daddy’s calls, and I never drink shots of tequila with the team in the bar.

Tonight, though? It’s time for a change. Take that, Daddy. And who knew I could slug back tequila like a party girl?

The problem is that I don’t know what to do next. I’ve never had a one-night stand. And every time Jason looks me up and down with those sinful eyes, I feel a little thrill of excitement.

And—fine—nerves. Although the tequila will help with that.

Besides, when you need a job done right, you’re supposed to hire an expert. And that’s what I want from Jason Castro. He’s the most notorious hookup artist on the team. He’s hot as blazes, and a real smooth-talker. I like everything about him, from his rich, bronze-toned skin to his hypnotic brown eyes.

He can talk me through it. I’m a quick study.

And I’m not a virgin. There have been boyfriends—four of them. But not one of them ever managed to… There’s no polite way to say it. Nice Southern girls aren’t supposed to speak in detail about sex. But let’s just say I’ve never been very satisfied by my sexual experiences so far.

That will all change tonight. This is not an opportunity to be squandered. In fact, it’s time to up the ante. Just because I don’t have a whole lot of experience seducing men doesn’t mean I’m clueless about life in general.

Slowly, I ease my body a little closer to his. Two inches, maybe. Then I smile at him.

And—holy heck—the results are instantaneous. His eyes sweep down my body. And it’s almost as if he touched me with his hands, too. I feel that gaze burning me up everywhere it lands. Then he looks up again and gives me a hot smile. We’re having an entire conversation without words.

This is a revelation. I feel bold and a little wild.

“So what happens next, Hot Pepper?” he asks.