“Then you’re not a puck bunny. Problem solved.” I studied her. “Where’s this coming from?”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shrugged, making a little “I dunno” sound.
“Did someone call you a puck bunny?”
“Paul may have. That one day.”
A trail of expletives exploded in my brain.
My hit list had officially grown to two people.
We were due to play Callingwood again in a few weeks, and my entire team would be ready to clobber both of those dipshits. Repeatedly.
“Don’t let him get in your head. It’s exactly what he wants.”
“But it’s not wrong. First I was Luke Morrison’s girlfriend, and now I’m Chase Carter’s girlfriend.”
Ouch again. But now I knew where this was coming from.
“You’re not just my girlfriend. There’s so much more to you than that label. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together knows that.” Which ruled out Paul.
Plus, the way she worded that made it sound terrible. I would have 100 percent stayed friends with Bailey even if nothing had happened between us.
I would have had to deal with the insane attraction part somehow, sure. But I would have wanted her in my life.
“Do they?” She frowned.
“If they don’t, they’re too stupid to matter in the first place.”
Bailey fell quiet again.
There were times when I swore I could see straight into her brain. Some of those times were good, but other times, it gutted me a little. Like right now.
I sighed. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re a talented writer, a video game playing goddess, loyal to a fault, and so beautiful that sometimes it hurts a little.”
“Do you really think that?” she whispered.
“Of course.”
While Bailey packed up her bedding, I ran the last few loads of boxes out to the truck, ignoring Amelia and Jillian’s glares as I went back and forth. Couldn’t they have vacated the place for one goddamn day? It was like they’d purposely hung around so they could be relocation spectators.
Literal worst.
Vultures.
Returning to her room, I picked up one of the last boxes, but this one felt like it was full of bricks. “Holy shit, James. What’s in here? A set of kettlebells or something?”
“No, some books. Mostly hardcovers…” She turned to look at me and trailed off, eyes turning a little glassy.
I knew that look.
I was a big fan of that look.
OceanofPDF.com
BAILEY
“Are you checking me out right now?” Chase set down the box, a smug grin playing on his lips.
I was. I totally was. I was biting my bottom lip in full-on thirst mode.
Busted.
“What? It’s just…you know.” I gestured with an outstretched arm, heat flooding my cheeks. “You’re being all manly. Lifting heavy stuff. Muscles.”
Apparently, my brain had decided to take a coffee break while other parts of my body seized control.
But, I mean, look at the guy. Black joggers slung low on his hips, white tee hanging perfectly off his athletic frame, sinewy muscle covered with smooth, taut skin…
He closed the door and took a few steps in my direction, grin intensifying as he drew closer. “So you want me for my body.”
“It’s definitely a selling point.” I fought a sheepish smile.
Obviously, there were lots of other things I liked about him. But the view was pretty nice.
“Now who’s got the dirty mind?”
“Too much time with you, I guess.” I laughed softly, turning away from him to face the desk.
I attempted to look over my checklist again, but Chase’s proximity made focusing on anything but him impossible. He was close enough that I could smell the intoxicating combination of him and his cologne, and my brain shut off completely.
An aura of warmth surrounded me as he pressed against me from behind, broad hands landing on my waist. He gathered up my hair and moved it to the opposite shoulder. Soft lips skirted along the arch of my neck, drawing a line of light kisses. Desire pooled between my legs, and a familiar throb pulsed in my core.
One hand tugged at the button of my jeans, nimbly unfastening it and tugging the zipper down.
“Speaking of dirty minds. I’ve been thinking about you.” He slid his hand lower, past the waistband of my lacy white underwear. “How’s the toy, baby?” His skilled fingers moved against me, sending off a shockwave of pleasure.
“Um…” I arched my back, drawing in a ragged inhale in response to his touch. “It’s good.”
“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmured, lips pressing against my neck. “Think of me when you’re using it?”
“Maybe,” I breathed.
His voice rumbled in his chest. “That’s not an answer.”
“Y-Yes.”
“Good girl.”
His other hand slipped beneath my black T-shirt, his rough palm grazing the side of my ribcage. He squeezed overtop of the thin fabric of my bra. When he rolled my nipple between his thumb and finger, I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped my lips.
Desire from moments before had surged into all-out need. Nothing else existed besides his body pressed up against mine and his hands coaxing my desire.
“Gonna let me watch you sometime?”
“If you want to.” Then again, in the moment, I would have agreed to anything.
“Very badly,” said Chase. “That falls into my top five fantasies.”
He stroked me again, teasing. Heat flooded my body, and I drew in a soft gasp. “What are the other four?”
He didn’t even miss a beat. “Tying you up, you in a skirt without underwear, truck sex, getting you to talk really dirty to me, and teasing you until you beg me to fuck you.”
“Isn’t that five?” Maybe it wasn’t. Not sure I could count to three, let alone five, with what he was doing to me right now.
He slipped beneath my bra, palming the bare skin. “The last two are interrelated, so I’m counting them as one.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Sure have.” His hand beneath my underwear wandered even lower, one finger sliding inside, followed by another.
My knees went soft, and I drew in a breath, steadying myself against him. “The walls are paper thin in this place, remember?”
“So? That didn’t stop us before.”
From downstairs, the doorbell rang.
Well, that sure would.
We froze, then broke apart.
Chase sighed. “That’ll be Ward, half an hour early, which means he’s right on cue to cockblock me. I swear he has the worst timing.”
“I guess we’ll have to make up for it in the new place.”
“Later?” He grinned. “Absolutely. I meant what I said yesterday.”
Oh my.
I quickly refastened my jeans, straightened my T-shirt, and smoothed down my hair. But I still worried that what we’d been doing was obvious.
Chase grabbed the heavy box from earlier. “I’ll run this out while we let him in.”
We descended the stairs, and halfway down, made the unpleasant discovery that it wasn’t Dallas at the door—it was Paul. Here to either visit Amelia or simply to stir up shit.