“Wait. I told you about that?”
Allison’s eyebrow arches dramatically. “Of course you did. You said he was the best sex you’ve ever had.”
I did not say that.
Her smile widens. “Like I said. Gullible.”
“Shut up.” Now I’m laughing. She might be my best friend, but it’s damn near impossible to have a serious conversation with her.
“But that’s unimportant,” she says sweetly. “What’s important is that you like him. Are you gonna sleep with him again?”
Of course my best friend asks me this when I’m taking a drink and it requires a lot of snorting and swallowing to keep from spewing my green drink all over her. I choke, but manage to keep it in my mouth. Unfortunately, it goes down my esophagus wrong, which earns me a pat on the back from Allison.
The bartender walks over to deliver her drink. Allison grins. “It’s okay. Just her first time drinking from a glass. You know how it is. She usually just puts a straw in the bottle.”
The man grins, then turns and heads to the other end of the bar.
When I manage to stop choking, I down more green liquid, holding my finger up so Allison knows not to speak.
She waits until my finger lowers, then she grins. “So, are you?”
I shake my head. “No. God, no. I’m…” I sigh. “I’m supposed to be workin’ with him.”
“On?” Allison’s brow furrows.
I shrug. “Working on some PR stuff.”
“What exactly does that entail?”
“It means I’m supposed to be getting him some face time with reporters and shielding him from the asshole ones.”
“Oooh.” Allison smiles, then takes a sip. “I see some role-play in your future.”
This time I’m not taking a drink and I snort a laugh, then glare at her. “Will you stop? I’m tryin’ to be serious.”
“Uh-oh. You’re dropping your Gs, honey. That means you’re nervous.”
“I am not. Nervous, that is. I just…He kissed me…again.”
“Were your clothes on or off this time?”
This woman. Sheesh.
Once again, I’m laughing. “On. Definitely on. We were in the parking lot.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Probably a good thing to keep your clothes on in public. So, did you do it in the car?”
“We didn’t do it,” I declare. “He kissed me.”
“Last night,” she clarifies.
I glare at her.
“And now you wanna do it again.” It’s not a question. This woman knows me.
“Like I’ve never wanted anything before in my life,” I say in a hushed tone. “Seriously. If I wouldn’t look like a complete slut, I would go to his house tonight, knock on his door and…”
“Day-yum,” Allison croons. “You got it bad, slut.”
“You’re not helpin’.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She looks anything but. “Hold on.” Allison takes a drink, then looks back at me, this time her face totally serious. “I say, you go for it.”
“What?” I exclaim. “You’re supposed to be my voice of reason.”
“Oh, honey, we’re beyond reason where you’re concerned. When was the last time you got laid? Before Hottie McFootball Man?”
Did I mention that Allison’s voice tends to carry? Well, it does and now half the bar is staring over at us and I can feel my face heating.
“Okay, for serious,” Allison says, smirking at her odd word choice. “Why can’t you just sleep with the guy?”
I shrug.
“Are you lookin’ to marry him?” Her eyebrows lift. “ ’Cause if you are, then sure, maybe you should hold off. Play hard to get for a little while.”
“No,” I say with my best get real face. “I’m not lookin’ to marry anyone.”
“Then I say have fun. Ride him like a world class bull rider and have as many orgasms as you possibly can. What could it hurt?”
Again, I don’t think this woman hears me, however, the rest of the bar probably hears her.
“I’ll be workin’ with him,” I stress.
“So what?” Allison uses the same tone I did. “It’ll make the time you spend together more interesting.”
“What if things go bad?”
She takes a long sip. “You mean, what if that first night was a fluke and you realize he sucks in bed?”
I roll my eyes. That night was not a fluke. Jason Stone does not suck in bed. Hell, I’m tempted to say he’s the best sex I’ve ever had, quite possibly better than any sex I’ll have in the future. You know, if it’s not with him and all.
Not that I’ve had a lot of great sex. And no, I’m not a virgin. Unless there’s a time period in which you can get that back. Considering it’d been quite some time since I’d had sex before that night, it’s possible my body doesn’t know the difference.
“No. I mean, what if one of us doesn’t want to do it anymore? How are we supposed to work together after that?”
“Cross that bridge when you get there.”
Dropping my mouth open, I stare at my best friend. “You are absolutely no help at all.”
“Sure I am. What’s the worst that could happen? You both have lots of orgasms for…” She waves her hand in a circle. “However long you have to work together. Then you both go your separate ways with all those memories.”
“In a perfect world,” I note.
“Maybe. But you know I’m right.”
No. What I know is that my best friend just told me to jump the man’s bones. What’s worse than that, I can’t think of any reason not to.
And here I was thinking she was the crazy one.
Chapter 16
Stone
By the time I boarded the plane on Saturday morning, I was in full game mode. Well, with one exception. I couldn’t stop thinking about Savannah. In fact, during the entire flight I thought of little else besides her.
More accurately, I can’t seem to get her off my mind. I’ve relived the night we met over and over again, then I started fantasizing about all the dirty things I want to do to her the next time I get her in my bed. It probably hasn’t helped that I haven’t heard from her since Thursday night. And no, the email she sent me with the list of questions she approved for the reporters doesn’t count.
I thought for sure I would have a chance to talk to her during the flight, but my plans were shot to hell when I saw her sit with her father. Not like I could waltz up and steal her away. That would be far too obvious.
So, I sat in the back of the plane next to Snyder. Thankfully, he isn’t a chatty one and neither of us really spoke, choosing instead to listen to music and doze.
However, now that we’re in the hotel, I’m pacing my room, debating shooting Savannah a text and asking if I can meet up with her.
“Damn it,” I grumble, snatching my phone off the dresser.
I pull up her name in my text messaging app, my fingers hovering over the screen.
What the hell am I supposed to say?
And why the fuck am I so damn nervous?
This is ridiculous. I haven’t been this nervous about a girl since I took Laurelin Howard to the homecoming dance my freshman year of fucking high school.
I’m too damned old to get nervous.
Deciding to go for casual, I type: Hey. Saw you on the plane.
Oh, great. Now I’m Captain Obvious, too.
I delete the text, then inhale deeply, exhaling slowly.
“Come on, Stone,” I mutter.
I type again.
Wondered if you’d like to grab some dinner.
I delete that too because…well, because it sounds stupid.
Doesn’t it?
>
Interested in trying on that cheerleading outfit? I’ve got time to kill.
Yeah. No.
I’m just about to type some more nonsense when my phone buzzes in my hand. I toss the damn thing into the air and fumble to catch it, failing miserably.
“Good damn thing you’re not a receiver,” I chastise, grabbing it from the floor.
Savannah. You busy?
What the hell? If I had said something like that, she would’ve had some sort of smartass retort.
And I’ve got nothing. So I go with: No. You?
If I was, I wouldn’t have texted.
Some grinning emoji follows the text and I flop down onto the bed.
Right. Sorry.
I stare at the phone as though by sheer force of will I’m going to get her to text me faster.
She doesn’t text back immediately, which only makes me feel like an idiot.
I’m still staring at my phone when there’s a knock on the door. Without looking away from the screen, I walk over, grab the door handle, and pull it open. When I finally glance up, I find Savannah standing in the hall, staring back at me with a huge grin on her beautiful face.
“Figured it’d be easier to just talk to you.” Her eyes trail down the hall, left, then right. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I feel like an idiot now, but I manage to step back out of the way.
Once she’s in the room, I close the door. As I turn around to face her, I start with “What’s—” but that’s as far as I get before the woman plasters herself to my front and her mouth is on mine. Or maybe I’m the one kissing her. Shit, I don’t know, but I really don’t give a damn who’s to blame because Savannah Andrews is in my arms, her mouth crushed to mine, her tongue sliding confidently against mine.
Holy fuck.
The next thing I know, I’ve got her backed against the door and her hands are in my hair, holding my head down to hers while I practically devour her. It’s all I can do to keep my hands from roaming any farther than her hips. This is a side of Savannah I only got a brief glimpse of the other night and never had I thought we’d be doing this again.
Oh, I’ve wanted to. Ever since the first time I kissed her, but I honestly felt she was tossing me into the client zone. Which is the very reason I’ve been hesitant to proceed.
When we break for air, I drop my forehead to hers, my eyes closed.
“Hi,” she says softly, a smile in her voice.
“Back atcha.” My voice is rough, as though I just gargled glass.
“I’m sorry I practically attacked you, but…”
I pull back enough that I can look in her eyes. Her beautiful bright green eyes. “But what?”
“I have honestly no idea what I’m doin’ here, Stone. I know I shouldn’t, but…”
There she goes again, leaving me hanging with a but.
I wait this time, hoping she’ll continue.
Savannah shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”
“Really?” I do my best not to sound surprised, I go for a cocky, teasing tone, but I’m not sure how well I fare in that regard.
“Yes. Really. And it’s absurd, I know.”
“Definitely not absurd,” I tell her before leaning down and fusing my lips to hers once more.
When she sighs into my mouth, I realize that this thing between us is definitely not going to remain in the friend/client zone for long.
And I can’t be upset by that.
Savannah
I am going to sleep with Jason Stone again.
Wait.
No, I’m not.
That isn’t the reason I’m here, although now that I am, it seems like a pretty damn good excuse. The way his big hands curl around my hips, his thumbs pressing gently against the sensitive flesh over my hip bones, makes it rather difficult to think.
Truthfully, I have no idea why I’m in Jason Stone’s room.
I tried to tell myself I was going to come here so we could talk about…I was hoping to come up with something. However, I knew full well that once I got here, business was going to be the last thing I had on my mind.
I was right.
As soon as I saw him, my body heated at least ten degrees and I was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him.
And now I’m still kissing him. Or rather, he’s kissing me because no way can I claim that this incredible feeling is my doing. I knew this man would be dangerous, but I never thought he’d be capable of taking over my every thought. Yet, he has.
“Have you had dinner?” he asks when he pulls back.
I shake my head.
“Are you hungry?”
I look up and meet his eyes. “Yes,” I admit. “But not for food.”
It takes a second for him to realize what I said, but I see the instant that it clicks in his brain. A rough growl escapes him and the next thing I know, I’m in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist, our mouths once more melding together.
Then we’re on the bed and I’m holding him to me, refusing to let him go.
I’ve turned into some sort of hormone-driven hussy, but I can’t help it. Seriously. I’m so overwhelmed by this man, I can’t think of anything but him.
It’s actually starting to drive me crazy.
Hence the reason I’m here.
I want to get him out of my system so I can move on, so we can resume a business relationship and find a way to be friends.
And yes, I’ve thought about the repercussions of this decision but I haven’t yet come up with a reason why we can’t fuck like rabbits, enjoy some intense orgasms, release some seriously pent-up sexual frustration.
Okay, fine. I’ve spent so much time thinking about this, the sexual frustration has hit an all-time high. Sure, it’s not logical, but…so what?
Scratching an itch is as old as time. Men and women have been doing it for centuries. Why can’t I? I mean, come on. What sane woman wouldn’t jump at an opportunity to get Jason Stone naked?
Speaking of.
My body seems to be completely in charge, as seen by the way my hands have wandered beneath his shirt as I push the cotton higher on his chest. At least I have the sense to take my time, allowing my palms the opportunity to get acquainted with the rocky ridges of his abs, the hard planes of his chest.
“Sit up,” I urge, hating that I had to stop kissing him to say it.
Jason frowns, but he inches back, kneeling between my thighs.
I sit up instantly, shoving his T-shirt higher, revealing…
Yum.
I momentarily meet his gaze before I let my eyes roam over the beautifully sculpted torso inches from my face. Unable to help myself, I lean in, pressing my lips to his sternum, then sliding my tongue along the groove between his pectorals.
This is the part we didn’t get to truly enjoy the first night. That had been all about quenching that ridiculous thirst. This time…I want to take my time.
Stone hisses, his big hand gently cradling the back of my head.
I want to lick every inch of this man. I want him to be my own personal playground for a little while. That’s not too much to ask, right?
Knowing my inner hussy has won this battle, I don’t question myself when my tongue slides over to his nipple. I gently nip the small, flat disc with my teeth, my pussy clenching when Stone growls in response. I do the same with his other nipple, pressing down a little more firmly with my teeth until his hand jerks behind my head, holding me tighter.
Just when I’m getting familiar with his taste, the hand in my hair tightens, pulling my head back. I have to admit, the slight tingle of pain that ignites in my scalp is pretty damn erotic. I’ve never had a man take control with me, not even a
little. I’ve always been the one leading the charge. It’s the way I’m programmed, I guess.
To say that I’m more than a little turned on by the way he’s taking charge is an understatement.
Stone’s hand is still firmly twined in my hair when he lowers his head and kisses me. I allow my hands to grip his waist, his skin smooth and warm against my palms.
When I try to bite his lower lip, wanting more than what he’s giving me, he pulls his mouth from mine and hovers just out of reach. His dark eyes lock on mine, and I’m momentarily mesmerized by the desire I see there.
I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I can tell there’s a battle brewing in his head. Since I can’t simply sit here and not touch him, I slide my hands higher until I’m tweaking his nipples with my fingers and thumbs.
The next thing I know, Stone has my arms above my head, my wrists encircled by one of his big hands and he’s pressing me into the mattress.
It’s then that I notice I’m no longer in charge of the situation.
It’s then that I realize this man is going to command my complete surrender.
It’s then that I know Jason Stone is about to alter my way of thinking.
For whatever reason, I’m looking forward to it.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to something more.
Chapter 17
One thing I noticed about Jason Stone is that he is constantly on the sidelines working to motivate his team. The cameras rarely catch him on the field when he isn’t smiling, laughing, seemingly having a good time. That’s both on and off the field. So I asked him what motivates him.
“We all have an inner drive to be better than we are, I think. And I know I’m not the only guy out on that field. We’re a team. And in order to be a better team, we have to be friends, to know we have each other’s backs.”
—Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition
Stone
I credit myself with being a pretty easygoing guy.
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