His thumb nabs my lower lip, gently tugging. “This is fun to you, isn’t it? The forced indifference, the teasing. It’s part of what makes things so electric between us.”
Said electricity buzzes through me like a live wire dipped in water, but I keep playing. “It must be incredibly difficult for you to wrap your head around. Rich, successful, sexy hockey player, and yet I couldn’t possibly be less interested.”
“Rich, successful, and sexy,” he murmurs. “Sure sounds like I’m renting a space in your brain, sunshine.”
“You’re not letting a few simple adjectives go to your extremely large head now, are you, Mr. Andersen?”
His grin turns wicked, and I gasp when he fists the hair at my nape, pulling my head taut. His gaze drops, hooded and heated, and he watches with a heady, starved look as my bottom lip slides between my teeth.
“Anything else?”
“You’re too timid and gentle,” I whisper, needling him on as I toy with his collar. “You don’t know how to take what you want.”
My heartbeat settles at the cleft of my thighs when he flips me around without warning, pushing me against the wall, his chest flush with my back. I give my ass a little wiggle to see how far I can push him, and bite back my moan at the weight of his desire pressing deeper against me.
His lips linger at my ear. “This sudden confidence of mine? That’s courtesy of you, Jennie. Knowing you want me as much as I want you makes me feel like I’m on top of the world.”
“I don’t want you,” I breathe out, even as I let my head fall onto his shoulder, our fingers tangling as he shifts the neck of my shirt over.
His teeth skim across my shoulder. “No?”
“N-no.”
Garrett’s fingers dance down my belly, and every muscle clenches as he pops the button on my jeans. My sharp inhale spirals into an unashamed moan, and I arch off his chest, pushing myself into his hand, begging for attention where I want it most.
And then he releases me. “’Kay.”
I whip around in time to see him adjusting the lump in his jeans. “’Kay? ’Kay what? What are you doing?” I watch in horror as he reaches for the door. “Where are you going? You can’t…You can’t do this. Garrett!”
He sweeps a soft, slow kiss across my cheek. “Enjoy your night, sunshine.”
I hate him.
I hate him and his stupid, hot face and his stupid, hot body so motherfucking much.
GARRETT
Fuck, she wants me so bad. It’s written all over her face, the flush of her high cheekbones, the murderous way she glares at me every time she finds me staring, ’cause she’s mad at me for not finishing what I started.
Cara slaps Jennie’s ass as she moves past her, remarking how incredible her jeans make her ass look, and I’m ready to rip them right the fuck off her.
Should I tell her? I should tell her.
JENNIE
“You look angry.”
“I am angry,” I grumble to Cara. I pin my arms over my chest, then promptly drop them at the look of approval on Garrett’s face when I push my own tits up. Fuck you, I mouth to him.
“Angry sex is the best sex,” Cara tells me sincerely.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You could find out.” Cara winks, a finger on her lips. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”
Sometimes avoidance is the best policy, so I reach for the closest thing, which happens to be the fridge door. I pull it open, staring at nothing.
Cara’s chin lands on my shoulder. “Forced proximity does wonders for two horny, single hotties.”
“I’m not—ugh.”
Another wink before the birthday girl sashays away, and I swivel back to the fridge, content with letting the cool air nip at my warm cheeks.
I know the second he’s behind me. My body reacts before my mind does, which is irritating. I’d like to tell him to get fucking lost, but my mouth isn’t forming the words, and my body’s trembling with desire. Desire to touch, feel, let myself get lost in this man until nothing else matters.
Garrett leans over me on the pretense of reaching into the fridge, fingers fluttering over the bottles of beer, though he never does grab one. His hips press against my ass as he whispers, “Do you have a preference in how I take these off you later? I can try to be gentle and peel them off real slow, but I’m leaning toward option two.”
I swallow. “What’s option two?”
“I destroy them. One way or another, they’ll be on my bedroom floor tonight, and you’ll be beneath me, saying my name.” His mouth dips low as he skims my bare waist with his frosty fingertips. “Over and over again.”
GARRETT
“Can you take us through the McDonald’s drive-thru?”
I glance at Carter in my backseat. “Put your seat belt on.”
He somehow manages to squeeze his sasquatch frame between the front seats, right between me and his sister. “I’ll put it on if you take us to McDick’s.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding. There was so much food at the party.”
“I want an Oreo McFlurry.” He taps Olivia’s shoulder five hundred times. She’s halfway to passed out beside him. “Want one, pumpkin? Extra Oreo? Gare-Bear’s takin’ us.”
She cracks a sleepy lid, smiling at me in the mirror. Sighing, I switch lanes. You don’t say no to a pregnant woman who wants ice cream.
“Pushover,” Jennie mumbles under her breath.
Carter swings his arms over both seats. “I’m so happy you’re friends now. It makes me so happy.” His forehead flops to my shoulder. “I’m so happy.”
I’m happy when he disappears inside his house, Olivia shouting both an apology and a thank you over her shoulder while she munches her ice cream.
Jennie looks the opposite of happy, glowering beside me, but then again, she almost always looks this way.
“Don’t look so glum, sunshine. We’ll have a pleasant, quiet ride home, just the two of us.”
“I’m no one’s sunshine,” she barks back. She’s been especially snippy since I left her in the closet.
I swallow my snort. “Clearly.”
“So stop calling me it.”
“But it suits you so well, what with the way you sprinkle it everywhere you go.”
I swear those arms of hers have a permanent spot folded over her chest. “I hate you.”
I reach across the console, skimming the edge of her thigh. Her hands fall to her lap and her lips part as she tracks the movement. “Sure you do, sunshine.”
A growl rumbles and she slaps my hand away, angling herself toward the window. The air between us sizzles like an electric current every time I catch her peeking over her shoulder at me.
At the condo, we ride the elevator in silence, and she fumbles with her key when I hang over her shoulder in front of her door.
“You’re not…you can’t…” She points at me, then her door, and wags her head. I smile, ’cause I think we might’ve switched roles.
I lean forward and she plasters herself against the door, each breath heavier than the last. Our eyes lock as I step into her. She tips her chin up, wets her lips, and I turn the key in the lock.