Pick Six

by Max Monroe

  I whimpered. “Yes.”

  Quick as a whip, he grabbed a condom from the top of the nightstand and had it wrapped around his shaft.

  The instant he pushed himself inside of me, a deep, raw, needy moan escaped my lips.

  “Ride me, baby,” he whispered, and I obeyed.

  Lifting myself up and keeping my hips straddled over his cock, I braced my hands on his chest and took control.

  Up and down, circling my hips, then up and down again, I worked his cock.

  “God, Six, you drive me fucking wild,” he said through gritted teeth. “So beautiful. So sexy. So. Fucking. Perfect.” He gripped my hips and guided my movements until we both became too impatient.

  With a twist and a turn, Sean flipped me onto my back and proceeded to fuck me.

  Like, really fuck me.

  He drove in and out of me with the deepest of strokes, and hell if I didn’t love every single second of it.

  The speed, the rhythm, the feel of it all was too much. Too good. Too everything.

  It didn’t take long.

  I came hard. And my pussy milked his cock as he buried himself to the hilt and found his release.

  God, he was dangerous.

  When it came to Sean Phillips, I felt like I was playing with fire.

  “What time is it?” Six asked, and I loved the raspy, sex-drained tone of her voice.

  Her naked, soft as silk body was curled up beside me, her head resting on my shoulder. She was so perfectly close, I could feel the soft thump-thump of her heart vibrate against my skin.

  We’d been at each other ever since we’d tumbled inside her hotel room. And fuck if it hadn’t been the best damn sex I’d ever engaged in.

  “A little after eight,” I said after a quick glance at the clock.

  Normally, I’d be out celebrating our big win against Pittsburgh with the guys, but I couldn’t have cared less about my usual postgame routine.

  I was one hundred percent fully invested in this new one. With Six.

  Hell, I was mentally plotting ways to convince her we needed to make this a tradition. Create by-laws. Sign oaths in blood to keep doing this until the end of time.

  Jesus. Blood oaths? What’s wrong with me?

  I studied Six’s face a little harder, trying to see exactly what was making me think so crazy.

  Soft, creamy, brown skin and wide, honest eyes, she stared at me unabashedly, and my heart did a karate kick in my chest.

  Most women played coy, downturning their eyes and looking up through long, fake lashes. Six owned her actions completely.

  Is it because she’s so different? Is that why I can’t stop thinking about her?

  “God,” she muttered. “I feel like you’ve fucked me stupid.”

  That spurred a laugh from my lungs and a victorious grin on my lips.

  “God isn’t here, baby. Just Sean.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes. “It’s not funny,” she said and gently kicked her foot against my leg. “I feel like I’ve lost brain cells. Important brain cells, at that.” She sat up and rested her back against the headboard.

  But before I could respond, she was adding to her diatribe.

  “I’m also hungry,” she said as she scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “And I’m pretty sure we need to do something else besides have sex, or I’ll end up bowlegged and need to rent a wheelchair tomorrow.”

  “Damn, you’re a bossy little thing.” Another chuckle left my lips. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know…just…” She sighed and then sighed again. “Feed me and tell me I’m pretty and then feed me some more.”

  I sat up on the side of the bed, my shoulders resting against the headboard, and I locked my gaze with hers. “You’re pretty,” I whispered and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “The most uniquely beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She scowled, but I ignored it, because fuck, she was the most uniquely beautiful woman I’d ever seen. The truth hit me straight in the chest with a sharp pain.

  And it wasn’t just her pretty face or mesmerizing eyes or sexy little body.

  It was her. Her mind. Her humor. Her words. Every single piece that made up the quirky, gorgeous, wild little creature sitting beside me was different—better—than I’d ever encountered.

  “Now, could you be a little more specific about the feed me part?” I grinned at her over my shoulder. “Any food preferences?”

  “Anything,” she whined, and her full lips pushed out into a little pout. “Everything. Just fucking feed me food before I waste away from too much sex and starvation.”

  “So…the whole room service menu?”

  “That’d be a good start,” she said, and her words held more sass and attitude than a sixteen-year-old girl.

  Any other woman acting like this probably would have driven me fucking crazy, but not her. Grumpy, demanding Six, in my eyes, was fucking adorable.

  “Any other special requests?” I questioned as I pushed to my feet to grab the hotel’s menu off the coffee table in front of the small lavender sofa.

  “If you could find a way to make watching Game of Thrones possible, that’d be perfect.”

  “So, eat room service in bed and watch Game of Thrones?”

  “Oh my God!” Her eyes widened with excitement. “Yes! All the yesses!” She clapped her hands together briefly before sliding back down onto the bed and curling up beneath the blankets. “Tell me you love Game of Thrones as much as I do.”

  “I’d love it even more if they’d get season eight finished and released,” I said as I opened up the room service menu and started browsing the dinner options.

  “Wait…” She paused and sat herself back up. “You’ve seen all of the episodes?”

  “Yeah,” I said and lifted my gaze to hers. “You haven’t?”

  She shook her head. “The only ones I’ve seen were the ones we watched at Martinez’s house.”

  “No shit?” I questioned. “Well, you’re definitely missing out, then.”

  “Well, that sucks,” she muttered. “Now we’re going to have to find something else to watch.”

  I raised a confused brow. “Why?”

  “Because you’ve already seen them all.”

  “So?” I said. “I’ll rewatch them with you.”

  Her big brown eyes went wide with surprise, and it made my chest ache.

  It might have seemed small, but I didn’t like that she might think I was that big of a selfish bastard that I wouldn’t even rewatch episodes of a TV series with her. I mean, I knew I was known for being a cocky son of a bitch, but that didn’t mean I was thoughtless, too.

  “We’re sticking to the original game plan, baby,” I said and forced a smile to my lips. “Game of Thrones and room service.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I could’ve gotten a suntan beneath her bright and beautiful responding smile. As an African-American man, that was really saying something.

  I browsed the room service menu once more before walking over to the hotel phone on the nightstand and picking up the receiver. But just before I could hit the speed dial button for the restaurant, the sound of my phone ringing filled my ears.

  “Is that yours?” Six asked, and I nodded, eyes searching for the damn thing.

  “Shit. Yeah,” I muttered. I hung up the hotel phone and started scouring the room for my cell.

  “Do you remember where you put it?” she asked from the bed, and instantly, a flash of memories filled my head.

  Six and me tumbling into her hotel room.

  Kissing. Touching. Clawing greedily at one another.

  Stumbling into the bathroom as we damn near tore each other’s clothes off.

  Fucking in the shower… Aha! The shower.

  With four long strides, I walked across the room until I reached where my Mavericks sweats lay haphazardly on the tile floor of the bathroom.

  Pulling my phone out of the side pocket, I checked the screen.

  Inco
ming Call: Cassie.

  My sister.

  But the call ended just before I had the opportunity to answer it.

  And the five missed calls and five unread messages from her proved this wasn’t the first time she’d tried to reach me.

  Damn, how had I not heard her calls or texts?

  The reason is currently lying naked between the sheets of the bed.

  I grinned at that thought and scrolled through Cassie’s texts.

  Cassie: Sean? Where are you? Call me back.

  Cassie: SEAN. CALL ME BACK PLEASE. This is your amazing, gorgeous, beautiful sister Cassie, by the way. Just in case you forgot about my existence because YOU WON’T ANSWER MY FLUFFING CALLS.

  Cassie: Sean. You. Mother. Fluffer. Answer. My. Calls.

  Cassie: I will murder you in your sleep.

  Cassie: Okay. I take that back. No murder. I need someone to watch these kids from time to time, and you’re our top choice. But that’s not why I’m calling, and I will fluffing hurt you if you don’t call me back. CALL ME BACK. CALL ME BACK. FLUFFING CALL ME BACK!

  With one tap to her contact, I did as requested, and she answered on the first ring.

  “What the fluffing fluff, Sean?” she said by way of greeting. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for, like, an hour!”

  Obviously, I’d been so lost in Six I hadn’t even heard my goddamn phone ring.

  That’s a fucking first.

  “Sorry. I had it on a silent,” I lied by way of avoiding her inquisition. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Everything okay?”

  “We’re here.”

  “Here?” I questioned and furrowed my brow. “Where is here?”

  “In fluffing Pittsburgh,” she retorted, and my brother-in-law Thatch’s voice boomed in the background. “Fantastic game, dude!”

  “You guys were at the game?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  Cassie sighed. “Because we decided last minute, and my big-ass ogre of a husband thought it would be a grand idea to drive instead of fly.”

  “Makes sense considering it’s not that far of a drive from NYC. It’s what, like, four or five hours?”

  “See!” Thatch shouted from the background. “Even Sean understands!”

  “Well, Sean didn’t have to sit in a car with your giant fucking ass listening to you sing along to Britney Spears!” Cassie yelled back at him.

  “Don’t you dare start talking blasphemous things about Britney!” Thatch shouted back.

  Cassie snorted. “Pretty sure the internet is filled with a shitload of blasphemous shit about 2007 Britney.”

  “How dare you bring up 2007?” Thatch retorted in outrage. “It was a bad year. She was going through some serious shit.”

  Jesus Christ. I needed to change the subject and fast before I just ended up a third wheel in their verbal tug of war.

  “So…uh…are you guys still in Pittsburgh?”

  “Yep,” Cassie responded. “We’re at your hotel, and we want to grab some dinner.”

  “Dinner?” I repeated, and my gaze locked with Six’s. She was still gloriously naked and sitting on the bed. “And you’re at my hotel? Like, right now?”

  Fucking hell, my sister had the absolute worst timing in the world.

  “Yes, Sean. I want dinner, and I’m at your fluffing hotel.”

  Cassie’s voice muffled slightly—but not fully—as she stopped speaking into the phone and started talking to Thatch. “God, I think he took too many hits to the head, T. He’s having trouble with simple words.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t take any hits to the head, Cass. And I can sure as fuck hear these words just fine.”

  “I think he heard me,” she said to Thatch, and the big fucker laughed, commenting, “You think, honey?”

  “Whatever,” my sister dismissed quickly, never one to wallow in embarrassment. “Since I had to drive a million hours in the car with Thatch singing ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time,’ you’re going to fluffing eat dinner with me.”

  I sighed internally.

  “What room are you in?” she asked. “We’ll come up.”

  “I…I’m not in my room.”

  “Where are you?” she asked, completely oblivious. “We’ll meet up with you.”

  “I’m at the hotel, but I’m not in my room.”

  “You’re…” She paused. “Ohh…you’re in someone else’s room…”

  “Something like that.”

  “So, you’re busy fucking someone.”

  I grimaced. “Jesus, Cassie.”

  “Don’t act like such a prude. Everyone in the whole fluffing world knows you’re quite the little manwhore.”

  Manwhore. There was that fucking nickname again.

  And for the first time in pretty much forever, I kind of hated the fact that my reputation had that moniker attached to it.

  Of course, my sister didn’t think of it in the same way someone else might, musing, “I’m hoping my little brats are manwhores too. Better than me having to wash basket loads of crusty socks.”

  Thatch’s laughter boomed. “Little sperm factories like their daddy,” he added proudly.

  Jesus. I had to cut this off at the pass.

  “Just sit tight in the lobby,” I said. “Give me, like, fifteen minutes, and I’ll meet you guys down there. We can just eat at the hotel restaurant.”

  “Okay. See ya soon,” she said, and just as I hit end on the call, she added, “Oh, and bring your lady friend slash fuck buddy along!”

  My crazy, blunt as fuck sister, ladies and gentlemen.

  “Everything okay?” Six asked, and I nodded.

  Instantly, as I stared down at her looking all cute and sexy in the hotel bed, I decided I wanted her to come with me. Not out of obligation or because I felt like I had to, but because I just loved spending time with her.

  In everything she did, in every word she said, Six never failed to be a good time.

  She just…made everything fun. Better.

  “Yeah, but there’s going to be a change in plans,” I updated. “We’re going to have dinner with my sister and brother-in-law in the hotel restaurant.”

  Her eyes popped wide as saucers. “Dinner? With your family?”

  “No, not my whole family. Just my sister and her husband.”

  “Which would equal your fucking family!” she exclaimed. “I can’t meet your family right now. Look at me,” she added and glanced down at her sheet-covered body. “I’m a freaking mess, Sean.”

  “It’s just dinner, Six. And it’s not the whole family. Trust me, Diane and Greg are in Portland.” I offered a reassuring smile. “And, anyway, you said you were starving…”

  “Starving for room service,” she retorted, and I just grinned. “Diane and Greg?”

  “My parents.”

  Her eyes bugged out at the mention of the p-word, and I laughed.

  “Who are not here, so stop freaking out.”

  “Do you seriously want to bring me along to dinner with your sister?” she asked, and I didn’t miss the weight of her words.

  “Yes,” I responded immediately, gaze locked with hers. “I want you there.”

  She stared at me, her eyes searching mine.

  “Six, baby, just go ahead and come to terms with the fact that I’m not going to take no for an answer…” I paused and glanced at the time on my phone. “Oh, and you have about ten minutes left to get ready.”

  “Ten minutes!” she shrieked and hopped off the bed. “Oh my God!”

  “Just throw on some jeans and a shirt, and you’ll be good to go.”

  Six sighed but immediately started rummaging through her suitcase.

  And I headed back toward the bathroom to toss my after-game sweats back on.

  “Hey, Sean?” she called from the other side of the room.

  “Yeah?”

  “Remind me later tonight I need to strangle you.”

  I laughed and smiled at that.

  Remind
me later tonight.

  That meant she’d already planned on spending the entire night with me.

  Yeah. I’d remind her, all right. Most likely, when my cock was buried ten inches deep inside of her.

  “Are you sure about this?” I whispered to Sean as we waited for the elevator.

  He just grinned. The bastard.

  “This isn’t funny,” I said, my voice growing loud enough to catch the attention of the older, sixtysomething couple standing a few feet away from us. “I mean…” I paused and glanced down at my clothes with a sigh. “I’m hardly dressed to impress.”

  The woman couldn’t not stare at my clothes after that. Her gaze moved down my body, and her lips pushed out into a disapproving frown once she saw my shirt. She smacked her lips together, the way only old ladies with disappointment do, and shook her head as she brought her eyes back to the elevator doors.

  Cool it, lady, I shouted internally. I’m wearing this out of desperation.

  “Are you hearing anything I’m saying right now?” I asked Sean and looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m hearing you, baby. Loud and clear,” he said and shot a little wink in my direction. “But you have nothing to worry about.”

  I scowled at that. Nothing to worry about. I looked down at my outfit one more time. Yoga pants and a freaking T-shirt with a doodle of a cat holding up two middle fingers and the words fluff you, you fluffin’ fluff written on it.

  The judgy old lady’s reaction was correct.

  Dressed to impress? Not likely.

  I cursed myself for thinking it was a victory to travel to Pittsburgh with just a carry-on. I’d brought only the essentials. No backup outfits. Only a goddamn shirt with a cat on it and yoga pants that had seen better days.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, cowardly pointing out the pink elephant in the room. Meeting his sister and brother-in-law seemed a bit odd considering we weren’t in a relationship. We weren’t even dating, really. I didn’t know what we were, but I knew it wasn’t serious. Sean Phillips didn’t do serious. He did friends with benefits, fuck buddies, one-night stands, but serious? I honestly doubted that word was in his vocabulary.