Easy Ride (South Florida Riders Book 3)

by Breezie Bennett

  “So,” he says with certainty, the syllable breaking my mental web of confusion and yanking me back into this moment, which seems to consist of nothing but him.

  I lower my gaze to his lips. Those lips…I’ve watched them smile. And cry. And laugh. I’ve never kissed them, never really kissed them, and I’m suddenly wondering how that’s even possible.

  Unable to take the explosive tension that Chase has expertly built between us, I lean forward half an inch and press my lips to his. A million thoughts, many of which are dirty, swirl through my mind.

  He draws back a second later and smiles. “Not yet, Little Miss Eager.”

  “But…” I stammer. “I thought kissing was first down.” My whole body feels hot and shaky.

  He places his index finger on my lips. “It is.”

  “Then why don’t we just—”

  “Shhh.” He presses his finger harder against my mouth, which somehow just makes me really want to kiss him more. “I’m the teacher, remember?”

  I roll my eyes.

  “You don’t just lay a peck on someone if you’re tryna make it dirty.”

  “But won’t it get dirty as things progress? I mean, this is only first base—”

  “First down,” he corrects.

  “Whatever.”

  “Yeah, shit progresses, of course. But…the kiss sets the tone for everything. A little closed-lip peck says, ‘This is about to be boring, forgettable, and average in every way, so strap in.’”

  I frown and draw back. “Okay, then, teacher. Show me how to do it so it’s…you know…” I look through the window and let my voice trail off.

  Chase positions my chin between his thumb and index finger and turns my head back so I’m facing him again. “Dirty? Hot? Sexy?”

  I swallow. “All of the above.”

  With his fingers still holding my chin, Chase takes his thumb and uses it to part my lips slightly. He angles my head back and slips his other hand onto my waist.

  I try not to let it be obvious that my body feels like it’s melting under his grasp.

  It’s just Chase.

  A few burning seconds later, his mouth is on mine. Heat rushes through me as I lean into Chase’s electrifying kiss. He moves his mouth slowly and rhythmically, every stroke of his lips convincing my mind and my body that I desperately need things I’ve never even thought about.

  He slides his hand up my back and gives my hair a gentle pull, making me arch my back and sink my body into him.

  “Now…” he pulls away slightly, leaving my lips begging for more. “We’ve kissed.”

  I swallow, searching for composure, but kissing Chase has me rattled to my core. “Mm-hmm,” I manage weakly.

  His hand slips under my shirt, moving slowly up my side, sending a wave of goose bumps down my spine.

  There’s no hiding the physical effect Chase is having on me. I guess he must be used to that.

  “What’s next, Six?” I run a hand through his hair, riding the rush of confidence that apparently comes with being kissed and touched and turned on by Chase Kennedy.

  “Ready for more, are we, Nit Whit?”

  The minty taste of him lingers on my tongue, and suddenly I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to see my best friend the same way again. In the way that doesn’t involve heat and need and sexy kisses.

  I draw in a breath and nod quickly. “We’ve barely even scratched the surface,” I say, my voice sounding more like moans than words. “And based on that…I have a lot to learn.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve wasted all these years not getting kissed right.” His fingers are still tracing the curves of my body, making me shiver.

  I decide Chase is like some sort of sex magician.

  “Time to change that.” He leans in again, kissing me hard. His hands are all over me at once, and everything seems to just make my body hot and achy and wet.

  He reaches down and grabs my ass.

  “Chase!” I jump, laughing through the kiss.

  He smiles, his mouth still against mine. “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that since I was, like, twelve.”

  “You’re nasty.”

  He slips his tongue into my mouth, lightly running it along my teeth and making out with me at a slow, steady pace.

  My mind is hazy and foggy, and everything seems to be floating. He holds me tight, and in a swift movement, he shifts me so I’m sitting on his lap, straddling him.

  “Damn,” I pant. “You really are good.”

  He winks at me and dips his head low, kissing my neck, making me wetter than I can remember ever being.

  “Kissing…” he says, his voice low. “Involves the entire body.” He grabs my hips and rocks them against his lap, giving me a tease of his rock-hard erection. “Write that in your notes.”

  I let out something between a gasp and a giggle as he slips his tongue into my mouth again and deepens the kiss so hard that my whole body aches and squeezes, and my head is practically spinning.

  Is this what kissing is supposed to be like? I guess with Chase, it is.

  He pulls away for a brief second, and I fight the magnetic urge to get my lips back onto his as fast as I can.

  “Whit…” He traces my cheek with his thumb, melting me with his sizzling gaze. “I’ve known you literally forever. And somehow…” He pushes his cock against me, forcing a tiny moan to slip from my throat. “Deep down…” His hands run up and down my back, setting off spirals of chills and heat and need. “I always kinda knew this would happen one day.”

  I push away the physical desire that’s consuming my mind and roll my eyes, shoving my hand into Chase’s painfully handsome face. “Shut up, jackass. I’m here to learn. I didn’t fall for your magical spell.”

  He glances down and nods toward our hips, which are slightly, almost instinctively, grinding against each other every second. “You get that tongue technique?”

  I bite my lip, looking through the window and leaning back on Chase’s lap. “Yeah, I think I got it.”

  “And body movement, well…” He guides his hand down my side, teasing the burning-hot space between my leg and my desperate center. “That seems to come pretty naturally to you.”

  I tilt my head and shake away the fog of arousal, relieved that I’m starting to be able to see Chase for Chase again and not some kind of hypnotizing sex god.

  “Yeah, because you’re…you.” I make a face. “You have…” I purse my lips and gesture at his sweatpants, covering a raging hard-on that seems to get bigger every second, and I somehow resist the overwhelming urge to grab it. “This.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “You surprised? The ladies don’t line up around the block for six inches, baby.”

  Yep. There’s Chase Kennedy.

  I make a fake gagging sound and roll off his lap, slumping into the couch next to him. “Oh, now I remember. You’re obnoxious.”

  He laughs and turns to me with a bright smile and raised eyebrows. “But you did forget for a second there. You forgot everything, for just one second.”

  I feel my expression turn serious, and I look deep into the eyes of the person who’s been a constant, steady, platonic friend for as long as I can remember. “Maybe for just a second,” I admit quietly.

  Chase swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gazes out the window. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Suddenly, he turns to me and lightly grabs my arm. The high of being that turned on, for the first time in years, still has my head swimming, and I jump at his touch.

  “You’re coming to my game on Sunday, right?”

  “We have an agreement, Kennedy. Of course I’m gonna hold up my end. I already rearranged my shifts at the hospital.”

  Relief and genuine happiness fill his eyes. “Hell yeah.”

  “I’m just glad you got me those crazy-nice box seats so I can sit with Frankie and Jessica and all them.”

  “Duh, Nit Whit. I’m the QB. I got hella pull around there. They have to do pretty
much whatever I—”

  “Chase?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking.”

  He lets out his classic, self-deprecating, I know I’m an asshole, but you can’t help but love me laugh.

  I curl my knees up under me and lean my head back on the sofa, once again feeling the weight of that twelve-hour shift pressing on my bones.

  “See?” he asks quietly. “It’s not gonna be weird. Nothing’s ever gonna change our friendship.”

  His words hang in the air, and something that feels like a thread of disappointment plays with my mind.

  What the hell? This is a good thing. Of course I don’t want my friendship with Chase to ever change. I guess I just didn’t expect one little make-out session with him to hit me like a freaking train of sexual desire moving at a thousand miles an hour.

  Ten

  Chase

  I spit on the grass and wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. The sun is blistering, and any concept of a breeze is nonexistent in the stadium during an outside practice.

  “Quick-release drills! Kennedy, move it!” Coach Watson barks, followed by a blow of his whistle.

  I shake my shoulders and start running over to the other end of the field to run the drill, trying to channel any drop of energy that might be left after this daylong practice. I’m hot and exhausted, but I look over and catch a glimpse of Baby Matt McKenzie. He rips one perfect spiral after another.

  Fuck. I spit again. It doesn’t matter how hot it is or how wiped I am. I have to give everything I’ve got, or Junior over there is gonna be starting before I know it.

  I jog past Matt and the quarterback coach, keeping my eyes forward and realizing how tightly clenched my jaw is.

  “Hey, Chase!” Babyface grins and waves at me way too eagerly.

  Christ. He’s like a high school freshman at his first varsity practice.

  I give him a vague nod and keep moving toward Coach Watson, but apparently that wasn’t enough disinterest.

  “Chase, wait up, man.” Matt is running to catch up with me, his lanky-ass arms still clutching the football like it’s made of gold. “I don’t know if we ever met, like, for real.”

  I squint and hold up a hand to shield my eyes from the sun. “I think it’s pretty clear you know who I am, kid. If you wanna know more, just turn on ESPN.”

  He laughs obnoxiously, still following me. “That’s funny. Coach says I need to start running passing drills with you. That’s dope, right?”

  I stop in my tracks and turn to look at him. His face is full of energy and shiny, like he’s never grown a whisker in his entire life. I open my mouth and angle my head toward him.

  He draws back in slight intimidation.

  “Yeah.” I narrow my eyes. “That’s dope.” I smack one of his skinny arms. “If you’re gonna run drills with me, or even call yourself a Rider, you better start drinking protein shakes like water and living in the gym.”

  I pivot and start walking down the field again, but the damn puppy is still at my heels.

  “I’m already on it, dude. I’m really trying to bulk up. Thanks,” he says cheerfully.

  I puff my chest and get right in his face. A bit more intimidation could do the little shithead some good. “You fucking with me?”

  His eyes widen as he shakes his head vigorously. “No, not at all. I’m so stoked to be here. I’ve looked up to you since you took the Florida Gators to that national championship six years ago.”

  Good Lord, I don’t feel like dealing with this shit.

  I look him right in the eyes. “Are you trying to play football or get a fucking autograph?”

  He laughs again. “Play football. But still, you’re, like, a total legend.”

  Coach tosses me a ball, and I catch it, keeping my eyes straight ahead and wishing I could swat the little rookie away like a fly. Shoo.

  Now I get to run passing drills side by side with him. Fucking yay. At least if I completely smoke him, he’ll get the message that backup means backup, and he’s staying there.

  “Go wide, Kennedy,” Coach orders.

  I wind up to drill a long spiral. I’ll show you a legend, kid.

  As soon as I release the ball and it soars down the field with wild accuracy, I feel a sharp tearing pain in my shoulder.

  Fuck.

  I roll it around quickly. It must have just been some weird, leftover pain from that nasty tackle in the first game. I went down on it bad, that’s all. Fucking linebacker.

  Searing, sharp pain rips through my arm, and I grit my teeth as hard as I can. This is not happening.

  I grab my shoulder with the other hand and press into the muscle, feeling my breathing become rapid with rage at the thought of being injured.

  “You okay, Kennedy?” Leo shouts from down the field.

  “Fine, bro,” I call back.

  I’m not injured. No shot. I’m Chase Kennedy. I don’t get injured. But holy shit, my shoulder hurts.

  I raise my right arm to throw another pass, still trying to shake off the tearing feeling that’s somehow surging through my entire body. I push through the pain, determined to maintain my status as a top NFL quarterback and get rid of any possible threat of Mr. Second String.

  Practice ends shortly after, thank fuck, and we walk back into the locker room.

  “Dude, you’re holding your shoulder a lot.” Leo pats my arm as he walks past me to his locker. “You sure you’re good?”

  “Sterling. Come on. It’s just a little tight, that’s all.”

  He stands and looks at me with raised brows, as if he’s waiting for me to say something else.

  “Insert some dirty joke about the word tight.” I wave my hand. “I’m too tired to be creative.”

  He chuckles and walks away, and I circle my right shoulder slowly, hoping the pain will magically disappear, but knowing damn well that it won’t.

  I can’t tell my teammates, and I sure as shit can’t tell my trainers or coaches. They’ll sit my ass on the bench and get that prepubescent shrimp to take my place throwing the ball.

  But I need to tell someone. A Riders doctor or physical therapist would rat me right out to my team. But what about…a nurse?

  I feel a smile sliding across my face as I carefully pull off my sweaty practice jersey. Whitney will be straight with me about how bad this really is. I trust her to keep it hushed. She’s always had my back.

  Whitney is my golden ticket to fixing my shoulder and balling out this season. And I’m her golden ticket to mind-blowing orgasms. Seems fair enough to me.

  Eleven

  Whitney

  “You’re doing awesome, Sky.” I smile kindly at the cheery new nursing assistant who got assigned to my hospital wing this week. “I know it’s overwhelming at first. And nowhere is more overwhelming than the ER.”

  The girl rubs her eyes and lets out a sigh. “I’ve wanted to be a nurse since I was little. I just never knew living my dream would be so…exhausting.”

  I dig my purse out of the cabinet in the staff room, feeling my own exhaustion from a long overnight shift pounding in my head. “You’ll get used it.” I laugh softly. “Kind of.”

  “Thanks for mentoring me on my first overnight.” Sky grins.

  “Oh, of course.” We walk out through the swinging door. “It was fun!”

  I fish through my purse for my keys and phone—which I haven’t checked in hours. I see that I missed four FaceTime calls from Chase.

  My heart flips, and my fingers quiver slightly as I call him back as fast as I possibly can. He knew I was working last night, right? Something must have happened.

  Relief hits my gut as the call connects, and his stupid smile appears on my phone screen.

  “Hi, Nit Whit.”

  “Um, hi, asshole. What’s with blowing me up? I checked my phone and almost had a heart attack thinking you were dead or something.” I laugh through my quickly fading anger.

  “I need your help.” His tone turns s
erious, and even through the spotty hospital Wi-Fi connection, I can see concern flickering in his eyes.

  “Oh, no, are you in jail?” I tease.

  “Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “I can’t tell you until you’re in your car. Nice scrubs, by the way.”

  I smile and look down at my aqua-colored scrubs with little South Florida Riders logos on them, remembering when Chase got them for me as a present for graduating nursing school the year he got drafted. “All right, Mr. Secretive.”

  I swing open the door to my Honda Civic and slide into the driver’s seat. It’s still sort of early, but the car is already scorching from the morning sun.

  “Okay, I’m in the car.”

  “I think I hurt my shoulder. Not torn, but definitely pulled something.” Chase is whispering nervously, as if he’s telling me that he robbed a bank.

  I frown and study his face on the tiny phone screen. My gaze gets stuck on his lips, remembering the way he kissed me. Hard and fast and needy, like he’d always wanted to. Like he’d thought about it before.

  “Whit? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Bad connection,” I lie. “Well, why don’t you just tell your trainers? God knows the Riders have the best sports medicine doctors and PT’s money can buy.”

  “I can’t tell them. I can’t tell anyone. If I’m hurt, even slightly hurt, that’ll mean bench for me and playing time for Babyface.”

  “Oh my God,” I groan, leaning my head back against the seat of the car. “Are you still hung up on the whole Matt McKenzie thing?”

  He draws in a breath, and I watch his face glint with a touch of something very…human. Very imperfect. Very not Chase. “He’s good, Whit. He’s good, and I’m…”

  “Incredible,” I finish, not sure if I’m talking about his football skills or his tongue skills.

  “Struggling,” he mumbles.

  I press my lips together, feeling a confusing wash of emotion for Chase. I know he doesn’t talk like this with anyone else. Not even Dylan or Leo. He never admits fear, or failure, or anything that might be perceived as less than cold, hard strength.

  Except to me. And that’s how it’s always been. But now that we’ve kissed—not to mention, the way we kissed—something feels different. More raw and…intimate.