Barely.
“So she’s moving in for the summer,” I announce. They both stare at me in quiet shock. “I’m in love with her. And she’s in love with me. We’re trying to make this work.”
“Seriously?” Gabe asks. “She’s moving in?”
“Seriously,” I confirm. “Just for the summer though.” Maybe longer if I can convince her.
“That is pretty fucking serious,” Tristan adds.
“I know.” I smile. “I can’t wait.”
“What are you going to do this summer besides play around with Jade?” Gabe asks.
“Probably officially join the soccer league again.” I’ll need to so I can keep the weight off from all the cookies Jade’s going to bake me. “Maybe take Jade on a trip or two for a couple of days. Nothing too far. She’s going to work through the summer.”
“Unbelievable.” Tristan shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see this day, especially not this soon.”
“What day?” I ask.
“The day that Shepard Prescott settles down with a girl. A normal, working girl he actually wants to be with.” Tristan smiles. “I’m happy for you, man.”
“Thanks,” I say, settling on the barstool right next to Gabe’s. “I’m happy too.”
“So no more one and done,” Gabe says. “You’re over that.”
“Totally.” I start to laugh. I forgot about the one and done thing. I can’t imagine being with Jade only once. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of her. “That stupid rule was definitely made to be broken.”
Epilogue
Shep
Early August
I stride into the house, polishing off the bottle of water I brought with me to soccer practice when I stop short at the view greeting me in the kitchen.
It’s Jade, bent over the oven with the door open as she peers inside, her perfect ass wagging in my direction. She’s wearing a brightly printed bikini with a little white coverup skirt over it and she looks like something out of a dream.
A particularly dirty one.
Quietly I sneak up on her, careful not to pounce when the oven door is still open. She closes it and resets the timer, then turns to approach the counter opposite where she stands when she spots me.
And smiles.
“Hey, sweaty man,” she greets, a coy smile curling her perfect lips. Her skin is tinged with pink, her hair is pulled up in to a high ponytail and I’d bet big money she just spent some leisure time out by the pool. That bikini barely covers her goods and my hands itch to touch all that bared skin. “How was practice?”
“Exhausting. Hot like the depths of hell.” All true. I approach her, drawing her into my arms and holding her close. She pretends to protest, like she hates it when I’m shirtless and sweaty after a particularly hard soccer practice, but I know she’s full of it.
She loves me like this. I don’t know how many times I’ve pulled her into my sweaty arms and the next thing I know she’s attacking me. Yanking off my shorts and grabbing my cock and trying her best to get me inside her as fast as possible.
My girl is dirty. Insatiable.
And I love it.
“Mmm, well I made cupcakes so that should make your day brighter,” she murmurs against my neck just before she kisses it.
I close my eyes and savor the feel of her in my arms. We’ve established a steady routine over the summer that’s worked out perfectly. I love having her living in my house, sharing my bed. She’s quite the cook, her skills not just limited to baking. We spend a lot of time by the pool, she works part-time at the candle shop and as every day passes, I realize I’m more and more in love with this girl.
Life couldn’t get any fucking better.
“Tell me you made homemade frosting,” I murmur against her hair.
She pulls away slightly to smile up at me. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“A woman after my own heart.” I lean in to kiss her but she dodges my lips.
“I thought I already owned your heart,” she teases, her fingers dancing across my chest.
My skin tightens at her touch and my cock hardens beneath my shorts. Damn it. It’s like she looks at me wrong and I get a hard on. Not that it’s a bad thing. We always put my condition to good use.
“You do,” I whisper, taking her hand and placing it directly in the center of my chest. “You own every piece of me, baby. Just like I own every piece of you.”
Her eyes darken in that way they do when I know she’s aroused. I have all her tells figured out. When you spend as much time together as we do, that happens. And I love it. I love her. “I like it when you talk possessive.”
“Really? Because when I won you in that bet and I claimed you as my prize, you slapped my face. Hard,” I remind her.
She smiles and reaches up to cradle my cheek. “That’s before I knew better.”
“Knew better?” I reach for her ass and cup her cheeks, tempted to yank her bikini bottom off and take her right here in the kitchen.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
“I had no idea that I was the one who was the real winner.” She smiles and pushes up on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to my lips. “I love you, Shep. Shepard. Sexy Shep. Man of my dreams. Owner of my heart,” she murmurs.
“I love you, too,” I whisper just before I deepen the kiss.
More than she’ll ever know.
IN THE DARK SNEAK PEEK!
Chapter One
Gabe
I never thought I’d admit this, least of all to myself, but I’m man enough to realize…
I am head over heels in love. Like, a complete goner. Sprung over a girl. A gorgeous, sexy as hell, makes me wanna lose my mind girl who just about fucking slays me every single time I look at her.
And when I say she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, I’m not lying. Not even close. With her golden tan skin and long, dark brown hair that falls in glossy waves down her back. A body to freaking die for, with curves that look made for a man’s hands. My hands. A real woman’s curves, with flaring hips and full breasts and a narrow waist—a body she casually flaunts in a tiny string bikini that should be made freaking illegal. I could stare at her all day.
I do stare at her all day.
The problem?
I don’t even know her name.
“God, you perv, are you watching her again?”
My sister’s whiny voice pierces my eardrums and I turn to glare at her for a long, quiet moment before I resume my position. “Go away,” I mutter, sounding like I’m twelve. I used to tell Sydney exactly that when I was a kid. Back when she’d been a total pest constantly trying to get up in my business.
Nothing much has changed. Only now, she’s an eighteen-year-old pest trying to get up in my business.
“Seriously, she’s going to call the cops if you keep this up.” She sits on the lounge chair next to mine, acting like she has nowhere else to be. Considering we’re both trapped in this elaborate fortress of a house that my parents have rented for us for the entire summer, I guess Sydney really doesn’t have anywhere to be. Not like we have any friends in Santa Barbara. We’ve gone out to dinners. We’ve gone to the beach. We’ve gone to the country club as guests of our parents and I chatted up a hot girl—not as hot as my newfound love but she was decent—until my father came along and cock-blocked me by saying it was time to go home. Making me look like a loser who still lives with his parents.
He’s definitely not what I would call a proper wingman.
We’ve been here almost three weeks and my sister and I are slowly going insane.
“Maybe I should be the one to dial 911 and end this stare fest once and for all,” Sydney says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She’s practically pouting, not that I can blame her. I’m climbing the walls here. I’m falling in love with a woman and I don’t even know who the hell she is.
Clearly I’m losing my mind. And irritable about it too.
“Are you purposely tryin
g to be a bitch? Or does it just come naturally?” I glare at her again, just in time to see the hurt fill her eyes before she leaps to her feet and takes off without another word.
Sighing, I return my gaze to my newfound love interest. I’m sitting on the balcony of the second floor, gazing down at the backyard of the next-door neighbor’s. That’s where my girl hangs out every afternoon by her pool. Her curvy body stretched out on a lounge chair, sunglasses covering her eyes. She jumps in the water approximately every twenty minutes to cool off. Doesn’t bother drying herself with a towel, just lies back down, usually on her stomach, her skin glistening with little droplets of water, her ass absolute perfection and barely covered by the black bikini bottom that haunts me in my most perverted fantasies.
Yeah. So I’ve jacked off to thoughts of her late at night. Early in the morning. Sometimes in the shower. This is what happens when a healthy twenty-one-year old male is cooped up with his family for too long. He resorts to jerking himself off instead of gathering up the balls to go and talk to his temporary neighbor so he can get to know her.
I’ve turned into the world’s biggest weenie, I swear to God. I miss my friends. Shep and Tristan wouldn’t stand for this. They’d tell me to man up. Encourage me to go talk to her. Hell, they’d probably abduct me out of this hellhole and take me back home. This sterile mansion-slash-summer house sure as hell isn’t home.
Like clockwork I watch my girl take off her sunglasses and rise from the lounge chair. She reaches behind her, running her fingers beneath her bikini bottom, tugging the fabric as if she’s trying to cover her ass completely but it doesn’t work. The bottom curve of her ass cheeks hang out and my cock twitches at the sight.
I’m starting to believe she was put on this earth just to torture me.
She walks to the edge of the pool, her toes curling as she raises her arms above her head. It’s like a little ritual she performs with her every pool break. She goes into position. Pauses for a moment. Her chest rises as she takes a breath, drawing my attention to her full breasts and then she jumps. Executing a perfect dive into the pool. She barely makes a splash and I watch with a dry mouth as she streaks beneath the crystal clear water, popping up at the deep end as she slicks her hair back with both hands. Even from this distance I know little drops of water cling to her thick eyelashes and she blinks. Licks her lips and I stifle a groan.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I lean closer to the railing, the metal hot as I press my bare chest against it and I let out an unexpected yelp when I come into contact with the scorching metal.
The sound makes her whirl around and I go completely still, praying she doesn’t notice me.
Praying that she does.
She slowly turns in a circle, treading water, her expression one of quiet alarm. I swallow hard and ease back. Thankful she doesn’t look up. Wishing that she would look up, internally arguing with myself because I’m not one hundred percent sure if I want her to see me or not.
What if Sydney’s right and my neighbor does think I’m some sort of perv ogling her every chance I get? Because that’s basically the truth, as ashamed as I am to admit it. I’m not one to ogle. I see a girl I like I go talk to her. Get to know her. Eventually get in her panties. That’s how I roll. That’s how I’ve always rolled. There’s no point in falling. No point in dating. Ultimately I won’t be able to choose the one I want so why bother?
She lifts her head and our gazes clash. I freeze in place as I stare into her dark brown eyes, the air stuck in my lungs making it hard to breathe.
The seconds tick by as we continue to watch each other but they feel like minutes. Hours. My skin tightens. My blood runs hot and there’s a dull roar in my ears. I’m fully prepared for her to glare. Maybe even to yell and tell me to fuck off.
But then she smiles. A sensual curve of full lips, a dimple appearing on the right side of her mouth just before she tosses her head and floats on her back, her feet kicking, her breasts rising above the water that gently laps at her skin.
Fuck me, she is seriously the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.
Without thought I stand, letting my gaze linger on her for one more minute before I leave the balcony.
And go claim what I want.
Her.
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In The Dark
The Rules Series
Fair Game
In The Dark
Slow Play
Safe Bet
Acknowledgments
Writing a book isn’t easy, not always. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it feels like pulling teeth, each word painfully yanked from my brain.
Luckily enough, FAIR GAME wasn’t like that for me at all. I adored writing every word of this book, despite my being incredibly sick during the last few weeks I worked on it. I fell in love with Shepard Prescott the moment he appeared on the page and so did Jade, despite her early protests. I adore Jade too. I love everyone in this book and can’t wait for you all to read Gabe’s and Tristan’s stories.
There are people I need to thank who helped during the writing process of FAIR GAME. First up—huge, massive thank you to Autumn Hull who read. And read. And read this book as I fed it to her in chunks. Thanks for dealing with me, pushing me, and making sure I got this book done on time!
To Katy Evans who fell in love with Shep right from the beginning and encouraged me to keep me going. I don’t know how I’d do this writing thing without you.
I have to thank my family for putting up with me while I’m always, always, always working. Your support and patience means the world for me. I love you.
And to the readers, the bloggers, the reviewers, for reading my books, spreading the word, chatting with me on social media, sending me emails, stopping by to talk to me at a signing…you all means so much to me. I would be nothing without your support so from the bottom of my heart: thank you.
About the Author
Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over two million copies worldwide. Both a traditionally published and independently published author, she writes young adult and new adult romance, as well as contemporary romance and women’s fiction. She’s also known as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.
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Copyright © 2019 by Monica Murphy
Original copyright © 2015 by Monica Murphy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
rbadesigns.com
Editor: Autumn Hull
Fair Game (The Rules Book 1) Page 31