Breaking the Rules: A Brother's Best Friend Romance: The Rules Duet: Book 2 (The Dating Playbook)

by Mariah Dietz

  “Maybe we’ll see you later,” I say, gripping Poppy’s fingers a bit tighter and tugging her toward the opened front door, regretting I hadn’t waited to see if they’d go in search of the keg when they nail themselves to the doorway, requiring us to brush past them.

  “God, and you smell good,” Johnny says, taking an exaggerated breath through his nose. I continue past them into the shadowed house where red is splashed across nearly every person, white and black numbers written across faces and chests.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re going to get an A for originality,” Poppy says.

  I’m regretting allowing her to talk me into wearing a pair of black stilettos as I pass another group of guys, feeling like I’m in a display case as their eyes follow us.

  Poppy pulls out her new favorite concoction of orange juice and vodka and takes a long pull before passing me the bottle. My nerves are desperate to dim the multitude of second-guessing. I take a drink and then a second one before returning it to her.

  “No going upstairs with anyone,” I tell her. “And if things aren’t going well, find me. We’ll get out of here.”

  She grins. “Are you giving me this pep talk or yourself?”

  “Both,” I admit.

  Poppy grips my arms with both hands and gently shakes me. “Have fun, Rae. Don’t think about anything tonight. Just … have fun.”

  I try on a smile, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels. “You’re right.”

  “I’m always right. I don’t know why you haven’t figured this out yet.” She flashes a wide grin that I don’t doubt will cause several guys to start approaching because my best friend is gorgeous, and when she smiles, she’s downright breathtaking.

  I glance up to confirm my point, catching sight of Chase making his way toward us. “He’s coming,” I whisper. “Chase.”

  “Shit,” she mutters.

  “Want to ditch him?”

  She sighs. “No. I should talk to him. Clear the air. I’ll never be able to date one of his teammates if we have bad blood.”

  I swallow my laugh, knowing she’s mostly full of hot air at this moment.

  “Do I look okay?” she whispers as he gets closer.

  I nod. “I’d offer at least three c-notes if I saw you on a corner.”

  She laughs again, her beauty radiating and drawing attention to some guys standing even closer, creating a competition Chase wastes no time to close, sliding a hand possessively around Poppy’s waist.

  “Remind me to work on convincing the student body to only throw athlete parties from here on forward,” he says, taking Poppy in with a long and slow glance.

  “I’m going to get something to drink,” I say. “But I’ll be close.” I eye Chase, a frown heavy on my lips. “Really close.”

  “Rae!” Poppy calls as I start in the opposite direction.

  I turn to look over my shoulder, ignoring a scrupulous set of eyes traveling over my midsection.

  “I love you!” she yells.

  I blow her a kiss that she catches in her palm and presses to her lips. Then her eyes grow bright, and her smile turns devious seconds before a hand meets the bare flesh at my side.

  “Tell me you’re here to tutor me,” the voice is rough and playful and too familiar.

  I spin around and discover Arlo, whose eyes grow three sizes as recognition dawns on him. He throws a hand across his eyes, tipping his face toward the ceiling. “Rae Rae,” he says. “Do not tell Pax I just said that.”

  “Deal.”

  He groans, wiping his hand from his face and looking at me again. “Or the President. He’d kill me.”

  I laugh, my cheeks burning with a flush I know is staining my cheeks. “I’ll forget about it if you do.”

  Arlo nods. “Already done.” He takes a long drink, though he already looks a little unsteady, likely contributing to his delayed recognition. “When are you planning on telling me about you and Lincoln?”

  My cheeks flush, and he laughs, taking another gulp. “I have no qualms. He likes you. You’re good for him. But, you guys need to tell Pax because if I could figure it out, you damn well know he will.”

  “Next week, after your last game.”

  He shrugs. “Not a bad plan. But, we still have bowl games. There’s really no reason to wait.” Before I can consider his words, he lifts his chin. “Pres!” he calls.

  I turn, seeing Lincoln. He pauses, his eyes traveling over me in one quick pass. He pivots, making his way toward us, his attention on Arlo. “Hey.” He’s wearing his practice jersey over a pair of jeans, his dark hair mussed in a sexy way that makes me want to mess it up further. He discreetly glances at me, his eyebrows lowering a fraction before looking back at Arlo. “I don’t know how long I’m going to stick around,” he says.

  “What? Dude, your expectations are getting too inflated. This is the best party of the year. You basically have a buffet of woman to choose from, all of them tattooed with your jersey.”

  I take a fleeting glance around the red jerseys and shirts, realizing how many display his number. I wonder if he’s offended I didn’t wear his number?

  Lincoln nods dismissively like he doesn’t feel the need to explain his reasoning.

  Arlo winks at me. “Yeah, I get it. Well, I’m off to find someone to celebrate with.” He cuts into the crowd, leaving me with Lincoln in a sea of people.

  “What sport are you representing?” he asks, his gaze dropping down my front too fast.

  “A mathlete.”

  The ghost of a pirate smile appears but is gone before I can appreciate it.

  “Poppy with you?” Lincoln asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, Chase showed up. They’re talking.”

  He nods. “I’m going to get a drink. If you need anything, call me.” He walks away, making my heart sink faster than a popped balloon.

  I should take advantage of tonight and spend this time with Poppy, dance and drink too much and have fun, but no matter how many times I try to tell myself how I should feel and act, a trace of bitterness creeps into my thoughts, tainting the moment.

  I slide between two guys making their appraisals of me obvious as I follow Lincoln to where he stops at a table cluttered with clear and brown bottles and reaches for the nearest one to him. I catch it in my hand before it meets his lips.

  “Lawson,” he says.

  “Really?”

  “What?” His tone is innocent, his eyes wide, making me believe I’m fabricating the situation and making something out of nothing.

  “Are you really going to act like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m not here.”

  He pulls the bottle from my grip and takes a long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Before you say anything, alcohol kills the germs.”

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  His eyes taunt me, knowing I’m lying.

  “Forget it,” I say. “I thought we—”

  “Thought we what?” his words are a demand.

  “Why are you mad?” My tone reflects the anger visible in his darkened eyes.

  He tips the bottle back, taking another pull.

  I blow out a sigh, glancing in the direction of where I left Poppy when Lincoln’s fingers slide against my skin, his nose skims my shoulder, and then my neck, stealing my breath. “You walked in here, and I wanted to fight everybody in here.” His voice is quiet and ragged and utterly intoxicating. “Everyone’s watching you.”

  “Except you,” I whisper.

  His fingers slip farther across my skin, pressing into me, leaving the memory of his touch like a branding. “Especially me,” he says, pulling me closer to him.

  “You’ve barely looked at me,” I remind him, hoping he doesn’t hear my breath hitch as his fingers span across my stomach, his touch too light.

  “I can’t see a goddamn thing tonight except for you.”

  “And anger, apparently.”

  “Like a red fucking lens,” he agrees, his f
ree hand trailing the back of my thigh, his touch varying between an intense and direct route to a light trace I have to focus my attention on.

  “Is Chase a nice guy?” I ask him.

  “Define nice.”

  “Should I intervene?”

  “Isn’t that her decision to make?”

  “Sometimes, we all need saving from ourselves.”

  His lips graze my neck, his grip tightening, pressing harder against my skin, revealing each callus on his hands. He breathes me in, and it knocks me unsteady, leaving me drunk on his touch. “Sometimes it’s not the before you have to consider, it’s the after. Regardless of what he’s done or acted like, what is he like now with her.”

  I work to keep my footing and prevent myself from leaning into him and letting him swallow me whole. “Are you going to work me out of your system tonight?”

  He dips two fingers below the waist of my mini skirt, tangling in the hem of my underwear. “I’m going to try,” he says.

  I eye the door of a bathroom open. “Meet me in there,” I say, pointing to the opened door.

  He shakes his head. “My idea involves tying you to my bed.”

  I blink through the mental images, the idea paints in my head, a thrill racing through my veins.

  I grab the bottle he’d drunk from and take a long drink. “I’ll see you in two minutes.”

  31

  Lincoln

  The bottle dangles from her fingers, her hips swaying to an intoxicating beat. Her long legs command my attention, watching her go to the bathroom where she closes the door behind her.

  My heart pounds in my chest, desire and lust making me feel untouchable as I weave through the crowds, my focus never veering from the door she’s locked behind.

  I scrape a knuckle against the white door, and when the handle starts to give, I push it open, pushing it closed and flicking the lock into place before facing her.

  She takes another drink, then sets the bottle on the large counter, licking her lips as she stares too long at my mouth. She wants me to kiss her. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me, the way her body bows toward mine, and the slight gap between her lips.

  I close in on her, her blue gaze falling between my eyes and my lips with her intentions clear.

  “Public bathroom?” I ask. “This surprises me.”

  “I have this … fantasy,” she says, her voice huskier as I run a hand across her chest.

  “What’s your fantasy, Raegan?”

  “I want to do something sexy in a crowded place, where no one knows what’s going on, but would if they paid attention.”

  Her chest rises at my touch, the black lace staining my thoughts. I dip my mouth, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh of her cleavage. “What kind of sexy thing do you want to be caught doing?”

  She shakes her head, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink that reminds me of her innocence. “I have no idea.”

  “I’ll give you some ideas,” I tell her, righting myself and focusing on those pools of blue that pull me in and drown me, smoothing each concern and reason we shouldn’t be here doing this, making me forget everything except for the promise of pleasure. I seal my mouth over hers, and her hands wrap around my neck, hot against my skin. I grip her hips, lifting her up to the vanity where I plunge my tongue into her mouth and part her thighs. She moans, and I practically come undone, ready to shred the tiny skirt that has had enough glances tonight I’m amazed it’s survived the weight of the attention, and move inside of her, marking her so deeply and thoroughly she won’t be able to forget me.

  Her lips crush against mine, her legs wrapping around me, making the desire to fuck her here and now against the counter a near requirement.

  She slants her head to one side, deepening the kiss, and my hands fumble, tugging and pulling at the fabric around her waist, warring with her skin, demanding it expose each inch to me.

  Rae kisses me, pulling back with lust shining in her eyes. “The zipper’s on the side,” she says, smiling as she peppers kisses against my mouth before pulling my lower lip between her teeth and gently biting the flesh.

  My heart bangs erratically in my chest, chasing my desires in tireless circles. I reach for her skirt, forgetting about the zipper as I push the fabric up around her waist, revealing black underwear that conceals every part of her I want so badly to invade. I glance at her face for approval and find her eyes round with surprise, her breaths coming in shorter bursts as her nerves build. “You okay?” I ask.

  She swallows, and then nods, her blonde hair hanging in wide curls down her back. “Do you have protection?”

  I run my finger down her slit, loving the hiss she breathes in as her hips shift with the slight pressure. I blow out a breath, trying to steady myself and the weight of desire.

  Rae reaches for the bottle and takes another quick pull.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask.

  She nods. “And a little …. Embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed?”

  “I’ve felt uncomfortable since I got here, like I’ve been on display, but this brings that to an entirely new meaning.”

  A near-silent laugh breaks through me like a sigh.

  “What?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “Your sexiness and confidence are so fucking beautiful, but your vulnerability…” I shake my head, searching for this feeling in my chest. “It makes me feel like a god.”

  A smile curves her lips, and then she laughs, a sound that is so carefree and beautiful, it makes me feel nearly weak. “Like you needed an inflated ego.” She reaches forward, tagging my jersey and knotting her fingers in the cheap polyester fabric. She pulls me closer, her soft lips brushing mine as soft as I’d touched her, like she’s testing my reaction or possibly her place in this exchange. I remain close, opening my eyes when she doesn’t move to kiss me again. She’s inches from me, her eyelids heavy with her own desires—desires I wish to learn so I can give them all to her.

  I slide my hand along her jaw, grazing her cheeks, flipping a switch that carries this moment from sexy directly to intimate as we keep each other’s gazes, exposing our desires and the energy that builds between us—something so strong we’d be able to produce power to the entire Pacific Northwest if they could find a way to channel it. I lean closer, the first to close my eyes as I capture her lips with mine, demanding she kiss me. Her hand falls from my jersey, going around to the back of my neck, her kiss severe and intense, feeling like an answer to a question I didn’t know I’d been asking. We kiss until we can’t breathe, our breaths labored and eyes feral as we stare at each other.

  I hook my fingers around each thin strip of her underwear covering her hips and tug them down past her knees and ankles, dropping them to the cream-colored tiles, exposing her. I grip one of her ankles and bend her knee, pressing a kiss to the silky skin stretched over her kneecap as I plant her foot on the counter, her bright red toenails a stark contrast to the white marble counter. Her eyes trace over herself and then me too fast, revealing her nerves. I grab her other ankle, bending that knee and pressing a kiss there as I set this foot on the counter as well. “Stop,” I tell her. “Stop thinking. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  I watch her as I run a finger over her, catching her wetness on my fingers.

  She’s soaked.

  I groan, running another finger down over her folds and using my other hand to spread her apart. Keeping her parted, I stick my thumb into her mouth. I see her pulse in her neck, beating faster than a clock as she thinks too long.

  “Suck,” I tell her.

  Her eyes flick to mine, and then her tongue fits around the bottom of my thumb, tracing a pattern that makes my jeans feel too tight. She pulls my thumb farther into the warm, wet confines of her mouth, making me forget her inexperience for a few moments as I war with the idea of undoing my pants.

  I pull my thumb free from her mouth, and then strum it against her clit, making her hips immediately rock against my hand as she closes her eyes. I
run my thumb along her clit and then lower, dipping it inside of her. She gasps. I groan. She’s so fucking wet I could slide inside of her so easily.

  “You’re so fucking wet. So responsive.” I groan as she bites on her lip, swallowing a moan. “I want to make you so damn dirty. Mark you so you can’t remember anything but my cock inside of you.”

  I run my thumb gently over her clit once again and enjoy watching her hips push forward to increase the pressure. Then, her hips relax, waiting for me to return back over the same area now buzzing with anticipation and alive with nerves. Instead, I run my thumb farther down, parting her again as I slide my middle finger inside and feel just how soaking wet and warm she is for me.

  She grinds against my finger, the movement making her already tight pussy become even tighter, and I stroke the inside of her as a form of reward. “That’s right, baby. Grip my finger. Show me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

  I slide out, running my fingers along her clit, moving slowly, but increasing the pressure with each pass over the sensitive flesh until her thighs begin to tremble, and her legs struggle between spreading wider and closing with the last of her inhibitions that are keeping her from climaxing. “Stop thinking, Rae,” I coach her. “Just feel it. Absorb just how good I can make your body feel.”

  She gasps.

  “Your pussy loves this. Your pussy never wants me to stop. I bet I could even make you squirt if I kept this up long enough. Do you want to find out, baby? Do you want to find out exactly what I can make your body do?”

  She pants in fast and hard breaths that I move forward to swallow, catching every part of her as she starts to scream her release.

  Her knees fall together, leaning back against the mirror as I kiss her mouth and then her nose. She slides her feet forward so they drop off the counter. “I feel really tingly and warm,” she admits.

  “That’s the alcohol.”

  She shakes her head, then leans forward. “It’s your turn.”

  I shake my head. While I love the idea of her on her knees, her hand and lips wrapped around my cock, it’s not here on the cold tile floor. “I just needed to see you come.” I bend, grabbing her panties from the floor, and holding them out to her.