by Piper Rayne
A chorus of answers hit him, but he really only cared about one. And the woman who held his attention with her long black hair and button-down sweater that was doing its job and hugging the breasts he itched to caress. Hell, just being this close to her was affecting the fit of his jeans. Any hint of her previous wariness with him gone. In fact, her gaze held nothing but interest, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her gaze was greedily eating him alive.
Evie guided him over to the open chair next to Amber. “Here, take my seat. I see someone I haven’t talked to in ages.”
Amber’s eyes briefly flashed panic, but her gaze shifted as their drinks arrived, and she took a healthy drink, sighed, and leaned back in her chair. Royce sat and watched her features relax into an alcohol aided grin.
“Yum. I love Pina Coladas.” She listed toward him before catching herself. “I bet you’re strictly a beer guy, right?”
Royce nodded. She’d just said more words to him in those two sentences than in all of the six months they’d known each other. Even with the slight slur from the alcohol, her voice was sexy as hell. Usually, at this point, if he was interested in a woman, he’d offer her water, soft drink, or maybe an appetizer. He wasn’t interested in taking advantage of women under the influence. He preferred a willing and sober partner. But, hell if Amber wasn’t a cute drunk.
“How many of those have you had tonight?” He nodded toward her frilly drink with the pineapple slice and umbrella.
“Oh, this is my first one here. But at Sophie’s shower, I had two, no…wait; it was three glasses of punch. It was spiked with something, but I’m not sure what. It was good too, but not as good as this.” She lifted the drink and stuck her tongue out searching for the straw.
Royce didn’t try to hold back his groan as he watched her duel with the long piece of plastic until finally she captured it and sucked. With great concentration, she finished the drink, and for the first time ever he was jealous of an inanimate object.
Sweat broke out across his forehead, and he rethought sitting down. He was playing with fire, and if word reached Reese that he was seen drooling over Amber while she was obviously under the influence he’d never hear the end of it.
He reached for his own drink and took a long pull on the now room temperature liquid. No help there. He’d need a bucket of ice to put out the flames Amber had unknowingly ignited. “So, how was the baby shower?” He cleared his throat and tried not to notice how Amber’s sweater perfectly hugged her breasts. He found himself wondering what her skin would taste like.
“Wow.” Amber frowned down at her glass. “Oh, well.” She giggled, then took the straw out and tipped it up to her lips, and the remaining contents slide out onto her tongue. “Mm. So good.” She tossed the straw on the table and turned to Royce.
Trouble arrived with a neon-bright fucking T.
The smile she gifted him with dazzled him. But he didn’t let it distract him from her glassy-eyed stare. “Did you have anything to eat at the party? How about I order us something?” His jaw dropped as Amber reached up over her head with both arms and stretched. His mouth went dry. If someone handed him a million dollars to stand up from the table at that moment, there was no way in hell he’d be able to do it without showing everyone in the pub just how turned on he was by this petite beauty.
“Royce, you’re frowning. What’s wrong?” Amber blinked several times and placed a hand over his on the table.
Warm, slender fingers rubbed over his knuckles before she tucked her fingers under his. Warning bells erupted inside his skull. Danger ahead.
“You know what would make you feel better?” She licked her lips and kept blinking.
The noise level in the bar had reached the point where he needed to lean in and asked her to repeat herself. Please let her have said something else. “I’m sorry, could you say that again?”
Amber leaned in too and lifted her face, her lips full and glossy. He needed to get out of there before he did something stupid like…kiss her.
“I can make you feel better, Royce.” Her lips inches from his, she opened her mouth about to say something when the scent of her fruity drink hit him. It should have been overwhelming; instead, it made him want to dive in and drink deep. On the edge of jumping in, the cutest hiccup he’d ever heard escaped.
She covered her lips with her fingertips and giggled. “Pardon me.”
He wiped a hand down his face and looked around the table. The other women he didn’t recognize. They were in an intense discussion with two guys who’d pulled up chairs to their table. He wouldn’t find rescue from any of them.
“Royce?”
Amber’s tone held a hint of confusion mixed with longing. He knew what she wanted. He wanted the same. Just a taste. Only one; then he’d know and could put it out of his mind and move on. Yea, right, Kincaid convince someone else.
He held her gaze, and as if a time had decided to stand still, Amber wound a hand around his neck and into his hair. She pulled his head down and captured his lips in a kiss he swore he’d never take, but now gladly accepted. Amber took his lower lip and sucked it lightly before she angled her head and covered both of his lips and fucking rocked his world with her wicked tongue as she expertly twirled and dueled with his.
She let out a small moan as she opened further and surrendered to him.
He was the last guy to proclaim he knew how to romance a woman. He was good at pleasure, giving and receiving, but this kiss was one of the hottest moments he’d ever experienced. Each consumed, and when neither could breathe, he reluctantly pulled back and nipped her lower lip with his teeth as she let out a long sigh.
She sat back in her chair. Her hair loose around her face, and he lost himself in her blue eyes. Eyes that had darkened a shade. She again blinked several times, this time a bit more slowly. Another hiccup escaped, her lashes fell and stayed down for a few seconds before they went back up, and the process repeated itself.
He wasn’t’ sure if he should be offended or flattered that she was comfortable enough with him that she’d let herself relax enough to fall asleep. He’d been around enough people who’d over-indulged both on the job and off. He knew when someone had passed out from too much to drink and someone who’d simply succumb to sleep. And Amber was definitely in the latter category.
Either way, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to leave her like this; he needed to get her home.
The question was, would he have enough strength to see her to her door and safely inside—alone?
3
Amber woke curled around her pillow. She cracked her right eye open and slammed it shut as bright light zapper her eyeball. The shock of light matched the thudding at the base of her skull. “Oh, no.” What had Evie put in the punch at the baby shower?
She rolled onto her back and regretted the move immediately. Shades of white flashed in behind her eyelids. She flung an arm out and smacked the side table until her fingertips bumped into the water bottle she kept handy. She couldn’t quite grab it. Desperate to wash the taste out of her mouth, she sat up. A string of words her long-passed grandmother would charge her fifty-cents each for left her mouth before she gingerly took a sip.
“A lady uses vulgar language only in extreme circumstances, Amber Rose. This is not one of them.”
Her grandmother’s powdery cheeks would lift, and a sparkle in her eyes assured her she was still loved but had to pay up. She didn’t think she had enough cash in her wallet to cover her bill. She took a second and a third sip as the memory of her grandma filtered through her fuzzy mind. Gosh, she missed Grandma Wyatt.
As she looked down at the hand holding the water bottle, her gaze caught a flash of pink. The pink was from her favorite pearl button sweater, which she was still wearing. And her cute white capris. The outfit she wore to Sophie’s baby shower. Last night. Why was she still wearing her clothes?
A moment of panic took hold. She glanced around the room and located her pumps with the tiny florets on the heel lined u
p together on the floor next to the wall. She always put her shoes away in her closet. Always. She bit her lip to keep from running up her swear word tab and flung herself backward—poor choice.
She grabbed a pillow and put it over her face, blocking out the annoying sun, and started running over last night’s events. Everything after the first couple of hours of the party began to run together. How many cups of punch had she had? She needed to call Evie. And that meant sitting back up again. She sighed and, in slow motion, reached for her phone.
It wasn’t on the side table. She always put it there before she went to bed. A cold dread filled her. First her clothes, then the shoes, now her phone wasn’t where she always left them. The sense that she’d had company last night filled her knotted gut as she swung her legs to the side of the bed. She found her purse hanging from the doorknob in her room. She dug out her phone.
After dialing her friend's number, a picture of them in the rideshare popped into her mind. The driver was an older woman, maybe late sixties. She teased, then lectured the group of women she picked up about hooking up with a guy at O’Malley’s. Plus, to make sure if they didn’t have protection, their partner needs to. Then she said she kept a supply in her glove compartment if anyone wanted one. Giggles filled the van as they piled out and thanked her for the ride.
Her call went to voicemail. “Evie, call me. Now, please. I, uh…can't remember much. I’m not sure though. Could you call me? Please? Bye.” Amber flopped back down again after disconnecting. Damn. She needed to stop doing that. Wait, what if she’d brought someone home? Her gaze traveled over to the door leading into the master bath; it was open. No sounds filtered out. She heard what was probably a leaf blower coming from outside, but her condo was silent.
Okay. Think, Amber. What happened after they got to the pub? She remembered the new hot bartender make a beeline for their table. Then Evie shouted to someone she knew and left. Their drinks arrived. Hers had an umbrella. Probably a Pina Colada. She always switched to those when she’d already had a bit too much to drink because by then, she didn’t’ care about the extra calories. Another quick flash hit; she was being helped into a toasty warm car, or maybe it was a truck? People whispering then nothing. Except for a sexy dream kiss with Royce.
Huh? Did she have that dream more than once?
Okay, so she had more to drink on top of an unknown number of cups of punch with an unknown amount of alcohol. And what the heck happened after that? She wasn’t going to remember anything without caffeine and an aspirin or two.
But she was also pretty sure she hadn’t done anything that required the protection their driver had offered. She couldn’t imagine putting her capri’s back on while under the influence, and after a quick peek, her pink lace panties were still on too.
She made it to the kitchen, her head protesting loudly at every step, but she was able to boil water, add coffee grounds to her beloved French press, and brew a blessed cup of her favorite dark roast without creamer today. She sat at her counter on the barstools she’s scored from an estate sale last month and sipped and tried to play last night’s events over again.
After a second cup and a toasted bagel with butter, she wasn’t going to tempt fate with her usual preference of strawberry cream cheese. The only new thing she remembered was a dream she’d had about Royce Kincaid. But she had those pretty much every night lately. This one was different in that it was pretty tame. They hadn’t ripped each other’s clothes off in desperation. But they did share one hell of a hot kiss before the dream faded. The memory caused her body to perk up a bit. A warm rush settled in her abdomen as the vividness of the dream kiss looped in her brain.
If only her made up kiss could become a reality. But as long as she and Reese were good friends, and there wouldn’t be any reason for them not to be, then Royce was off limits. He’d be forever regulated to her fantasies; because sisters before misters. Or something silly like that. She really did need to either find a boyfriend or pick a new guy to have dream sex with.
Evie never returned her call. Amber spent the rest of her Sunday doing chores and napping in between loads of laundry. Tomorrow was the start of the USBL’s championship series, and she’d been invited by her boss, Caris, and Reese to hang out with the player’s wives and girlfriends.
Thoughts of the too real dream she had about Royce kissing her and why Evie hadn’t returned her call kept her up. She tossed for a bit before she decided to use her lavender pillow spray to calm her racing mind. So, she had too much to drink, lost a chunk of the previous night and someone, hopefully Evie, had put her to bed with her clothes still on. On the verge of falling asleep, she finally convinced herself that she’d done nothing to be embarrassed about.
“What do you mean she doesn’t remember.” Royce had answered the unknown call thinking it might be a work call, but it was Evie.
“I just got a voicemail from her, and she does not remember. So, you need to take this as a blessing and hope someone else doesn’t tell Reese you and Amber locked lips last night. Because I’m not saying a word to Amber or Reese.”
Evie’s tone held just enough desperation that Royce knew any chance he had of finally going after Amber Wyatt was a bad idea. Now he just had to convince his constant hard-on whenever he was around her that there’d be no fun time with the curvy brunette.
“Tomorrow’s the first game of the championship. Where are you sitting?” Evie’s words rushed out.
“In the box with T.S. and Grant for sure. I don’t know who else they invited. Shit. Are you and Amber going to be there too?”
“Not this time. We’re joining all the wives and girlfriends in the section right under the owner’s box. So there’s no worry about you two running into each other.”
Yeah, except he’ll have a bird's eye view of the woman who kissed the hell out of him last night—twice.
“I’m sure there wasn’t anyone else at O’Malley’s that both of you know. So we may be in the clear. The other women with us last night were friends of Sophie’s we just met at the baby shower plus Caris, but she went home to put the kids to bed instead of hanging with the single ladies.”
“Yeah.” What else was there to say. As much as Pineville had grown since he was a kid, it still held onto its small-town roots. People knew friends of friends of friends. Chances were someone had seen him with Amber last night. The only thing left to do was wait and hope that Reese was so wrapped up in the postseason with Connor that anything said in passing wouldn’t rise to her notice.
“Thanks for the call, Evie. I mean it, but it’s out of our hands. As long as Amber doesn’t suddenly remember that has to be good enough. I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.” Royce ended the call and walked around his apartment. His mom had helped him out with the furniture and necessary household stuff when he moved back, but it didn’t feel like home. Not yet. He still thought of his parent's place as home, where his mom still lived almost two decades since dad had passed.
He was living in a glorified hotel room minus room and maid service. Right now it suited his needs. His years on the police force and recently with SWAT had left him little time to establish roots. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find anyone who’d put up with his moods anyway. Mindless hook-ups filled the hole when his sex drive ramped up, at least temporarily. Hell, if he could find a woman who matched his needs in the bedroom and could also cook and was fulfilled with something outside of a relationship, he may just marry her.
His wishful thinking wouldn’t conjure a dream woman. Shaking his head at the turn his thoughts had taken, he showered and changed into his uniform. Another day protecting and serving was ahead of him, and he needed to banish personal wants for now. The problem was his mind kept wandering back to a curvy brunette with dark chocolate eyes whose face he imagined whenever his thoughts turned to his dream woman. And now he knew how her lips felt, tasted.
And damn if no other woman would do now. Not until he worked Amber out of his system. As he drove his truck toward t
he Pineville Police Station, he realized he only had two options—either leave town or make a play for Amber and somehow keep his sister from finding out.
He wondered if Connor would be willing to take Reese on an extended vacation after the championship series was over?
4
For the past two weeks Royce spent his time in two modes; focused on his job or strung tight as a new violin anticipating an angry text from his sister. He wasn’t good at keeping secrets, but he was an expert at avoiding his sister.
He hated the feeling of limbo he was in. But today, if the predictions were true, the Outlaws would win the fourth game of the USBL championship, and it would be the last time he’d need to endure watching Amber from feet away. The level of anticipation for game seven was electric throughout the Crystal Palace, the nickname the locals gave to Outlaw Stadium.
Each time he saw her, his waking fantasies increasingly became more vivid. Her long hair tied back in a long pony-tail tonight had him imagining how it would feel in his hand wound around his wrist as he entered her from behind, all the while her soft moans of pleasure urged him faster.
“Hey, Kincaid. Stop ogling the poor girl and go sit next to her. I’m sure she doesn’t bite.” Grant Conrad, the part-owner of the Idaho Outlaws, handed Royce a beer.
Royce held back a sigh. “That’s only part of the problem.”
The crowd and those in the owner’s box erupted in cheers as the home team took the field to begin game seven.
“Wait…what?” Grant finished cheering and turned to Royce.
“Nothing. Forget it. She’s off limits. Reese and I have an understanding about her friends. I stay away, and I get to continue to breathe.” He looked over to his sister, who was three seats down from him.