The bathroom door swung open with a creak and her voice was heavy with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out how to turn this on,” I said. I snatched up the vibrator and turned to face her, forcing myself to look nonchalant. “Your drawer was open, and I saw this, and unless it’s against the rules, I thought I could use it on you.”
She had put on a simple baby blue robe, and when she zeroed in on the vibrator in my hand, her expression heated. “They didn’t say anything about it being against the rules.”
“Good.” My chest expanded on my deep breath. “Then take off that robe and get on the bed.”
-19-
Tara
It was overcast and windy, and I pulled my leather jacket closed as I made my way across the grassy field. I’d meant to get here before the match started, but time had gotten away from me. I climbed up on the metal bleachers, which were half full of spectators, sat down, and peered out onto the field.
To my untrained eye, the rugby match looked like chaos. It was a pile of brawny men in mud and grass stained uniforms piling on each other. A weird, oblong football was chucked between them, but unlike American football, it was never passed forward.
Ten minutes in, I thought I had part of the game figured out. Fifteen minutes in, I was hopelessly lost. Sports were weird.
What I did understand was the effect Grant had on me. He wore the Lions uniform—all black, with shorts and a fitted athletic shirt stretched across his broad chest. It was like he was composed entirely of thick, powerful muscles.
My body clenched as I thought about the last time I’d seen him. He’d put my vibrator between my thighs and sucked on my tits until I’d come so hard, it’d taken me more than a minute to catch my breath.
He was . . . surprising.
And fucking exciting.
I’d expected him to be bolt when I’d laid out Silas and Regan’s rules. Instead, he’d taken it in stride. Better, really. The day after he’d come by my place for pizza, he’d sent a text message asking if he’d left a mark on the inside of my thigh.
I sent him a picture of the hickey.
His response was I should send it to Silas and Regan. God, how this guy turned me on.
“Hey, new girl. You want a macaron?” a female voice asked.
I turned over my shoulder to look at her. She was a cute brunette, maybe a few years older than me. She had on thick, dark-rimmed glasses and held out a Tupperware box. Inside, colorful cookies were stacked in rows.
They looked great, but I wasn’t in the habit of taking food from strangers. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
She didn’t seem offended as she closed the lid and set the box beside her. “The same people come to these matches every week, so we all know each other. But I haven’t met you before. I’m Ruby.” She thrust her hand out for a handshake, which I accepted. “I’m with that one,” she said, gesturing to the field. I followed her long, manicured finger toward the player, and my heart dropped to my toes.
She was pointing at Grant. He was standing on his own from the pack of his teammates, his hands on his hips, while the officials nearby discussed something. There was no mistaking who she’d singled out.
I wasn’t exclusive to him, so I had no right to judge. And I’d never asked if he was seeing other people, but now I really wished I had. Because this hurt much more than I expected.
I hadn’t told him I was coming to his match today, wanting to surprise him. He hadn’t seen me yet. Was there a chance I could slink out of here without him seeing?
Ruby didn’t notice, or I did a good job of hiding my sinking feeling from my expression, because she kept talking. “Which guy are you here for?”
How was I supposed to answer? I stared at him as he awaited the call, his face flushed and chest moving rapidly with his hurried breathing. “Uh . . .”
Then he spotted me, doing a double-take. His expression warmed with pleasant surprise, and he lifted a hand in a wave. I had no choice but to wave back.
“Oh.” A wicked smile twisted on Ruby’s lips. “Of course. You’re Tara, right? I should have recognized you. Grant definitely has a type.”
“What?” There was a lot to unpack in her statement, and I wasn’t sure where to focus first. He’d talked about me? And he had a type?
“Blonde and beautiful? We’ve been friends since college, so I’ve seen all the girls through the years.”
It came from me without thought. “Friends?”