She turns on her seat to face me, her legs fitting in between my thighs. “Yes, I’m very creative.”
And hot.
I graze my eyes over the neckline of her dress, the skin shimmering with some kind of glitter that accentuates the creamy rise of her tits. They’re small enough to fit in my hand. Do her nipples match the deep red of her lips?
One step at a time, Tuck.
First, you flirt. Then you fuck.
“Okay, let’s warm up by using people here,” I say.
“Got it. We’re gonna make up stuff about people we think is true. You go first.”
I glance around the room, and my gaze lands on Deacon and Snow White as they come back into the club area.
“Not the guy,” she says, her gaze following mine. “The girl.”
I study Snow White for a few beats. There’s a confident air about her, a sense of power. “Hmm, she’s an executive who gets her kinks out in the dungeon. She loves the beach, jazz, and pumpkin spice lattes.”
She giggles, but come on—what girl doesn’t enjoy the beach, jazz, and fancy coffee? Plus I know they left the bar area to visit the dungeon.
“Fine. You try,” I say.
She studies Snow White while I drinkherin. When she bumped into me earlier, I didn’t have the chance to appreciate her. She’s not the soft-and-sweet pretty I usually go for; she’s striking.
My body buzzes, feeling drawn to her.
Perhaps it’s the contrast of her hair with the white mask and dress. Maybe it’s her fire. Maybe it’s the fact that even though I can’t see her entire face, it’s easy to imagine how beautiful she is.
Or I’m drunk as shit.
Her scent wafts around me, like ripe peaches from the South. I itch to stick my nose in her neck but settle for soaking in the elegant lines of her throat, the shapely shoulders, the lush curve of her waist. I imagine her naked on my bed, her midnight hair spilling on white sheets.
The truth is I haven’t had sex since I broke up with a girl a few months ago, and with football starting, I haven’t had time to meet anyone. I’m starved for something (or someone) to take my attention away from the block of cement on my chest. Most days I’m able to ignore that pressure, but my birthday just brings it all full circle, a stark reminder of everything wrong in my life.
She taps her chin. “Snow White is a high-class call girl who keeps a burn book of anyone who’s ever crossed her. She has revenge plans for every entry, and she’s the kind of girl who’ll accomplish her goals. She’s jaded but wants to fall in love.”
“Nice. You win.” I toast her, then order us tequila shots. Three each. We slam them back at the same time, then suck the limes.
“All right. My turn to pick someone.” Her gaze stops on Jasper. He’s sitting by the pool, his feet dangling in the water as one topless Cinderella massages his shoulders while her twin is in the pool giving him a foot rub. “Him. The skeevy guy with the blond hair.”
My lips twitch. “Perfect.”
“In high school, he was a wrestler, but now he’s a shoe salesman. He uses social media to troll for women who love micropenises.”
I burst out laughing. Jasper does have a contract with a sneaker company.
Her lips curve up. “Ah, Player, you have a great laugh.”
“Really?”
Her voice softens. “Thank you. Again. You’re so great.”
Unease stirs inside of me. Shit. I’m not. I mean, this started as a bet. I doubt I would have noticed her if she hadn’t bumped into me.
My breath hitches when she leans her head on my shoulder, trust in her ocean-blue eyes.
“Okay, now you do him,” she murmurs as she crooks her arm inside my elbow. “Wait! Can I touch you? Oh my God, I forgot to ask!”