I swallow the electricity that zapped me just from her touch and hand her the drink. “So…” I gesture to the table at the edge of the balcony where a bunch of Riders and other people are all hanging out. “You had fun today?”
She touches her lips to the straw in her glass, smiling around it and looking up at me. Either she has something dirty on her mind, or my imagination needs to chill the fuck out.
I’m going with the latter.
“It was such a blast. I didn’t realize that I actually missed football, but…” She shakes her head. “I forgot how much I love it. And the women, oh my gosh. You’ve met Melody, right? She’s a riot. And Whitney!” Her face beams with joy, and I feel a warm sense of satisfaction, remembering exactly why I gave her that box ticket.
“They’re pretty awesome,” I agree.
“Just such great people. I was a little nervous at first. I didn’t know what to expect. But they welcomed me and laughed with me, and by the end of the game, I felt like I’d known them for years. It was exactly what I needed.” She narrows her gaze and inches closer to me, her thick lashes perfectly framing those ridiculously blue eyes, decorated with a bit of sparkle tonight. A touch of extra makeup for the bougie bar. But not too much. Perfect, as always. “But you already knew that would happen, didn’t you?”
I sip my drink and set it on the bar, cocking my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She bites her lip and looks up at me. “You gave me that ticket because of what I told you in the secret room. You knew I’d get along with them and make new friends and spend time with people outside of work.”
I stifle a smile and lift my shoulder nonchalantly. “Just thought you’d like to see some football. I get a bunch of those tickets. It was no big deal.”
“Well…” She sips the drink and smiles again. “Thanks.”
“Come on.” I jut my chin. “Let’s go say hi to all your new pals.”
Kendall’s phone starts dinging like crazy, and she digs it out of her purse. “Sorry.” She glances at me apologetically. “It’s work. Normal business hours don’t really apply to house renos.” She taps the screen and frowns at it. “Just give me one—”
“Hey.” I reach out and gently cover the phone with my hand, lowering it slowly away from her face. “I’m by far your biggest and most important client, yes?”
She raises her brows. “And the most humble.”
“Well, then, I require, per my contract, that you don’t do any more work tonight for my house, or any other house, and have fun.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that I blew off the entire day because of the game and feel like I should check up on some progress and the…” Her voice trails off and fades into silence as I get closer to her, my lips just inches from hers.
“You took the day off. What’s a few more hours?” My voice comes out huskier than I intended.
I take the phone out of her hand and drop it back into her purse.
She chews her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling against the heat building between us. “I guess I am technically working for…you.” The whisper of that last word is barely audible in the loud bar.
My gaze falls on her soft lips, remembering the way she tasted sweet and sexy and sunny all at the same time.
Reluctantly, I break the moment, knowing full well my Kendall-resisting willpower can go only so far with a few shots in my system and her in those ripped jeans.
“Let’s go,” I say abruptly, forcing myself to think about Wyatt.
We weave through the crowd, and I reach behind me and grab her soft, delicate hand. Because it’s packed in here. I don’t want to lose her. I’m just looking out for her.
“You came!” Melody, with her pink hair and her flowy, patterned dress, leaps off of the barstool and throws her arms around Kendall.
She quickly drags Kendall away from me and into the cluster of Riders women at one end of the table.
Sandwiched between Melody and Whitney, she’s laughing and talking, every word and gesture vibrant and animated. She looks the most relaxed I’ve seen her—not fussing with her hair or worrying about a speck of dust being in the wrong place. She looks…happy.
I finish off what’s in my glass and shoot the shit with the guys, reminding myself that she’s not actually here with me. She’s here with her new friends. And somehow, I like that even better.
“Look.” Chase nudges me and points my gaze in the direction of Matt McKenzie, who is entering his number into the phone of a skinny, pretty redhead. “He’s blossoming. He really is.” Chase nods approvingly.
I watch the girl swoon and flirt and touch Matt’s arms, and then I turn to the guys. “Girls really go that crazy for QB2, huh? Who doesn’t love a good second string?”
“Ha!” Chase snorts.
Dylan chuckles and sips a beer, shaking his head. “You ever miss those days?” he asks Chase sarcastically.
Chase runs a hand through his hair and laughs. He nods toward the women, where his wife, Whitney, is chugging a beer, and Dylan’s fiancée—along with Kendall, shockingly enough—is chanting her name. “Not even slightly.” Chase smiles.
“What about you?” Dylan raises a brow and looks at me.
“Yeah, Smoke. You’re single as fuck.” Chase gestures toward the bar. “South Florida is yours for the taking.”
I lean against the table and shrug, letting my eyes find Kendall again. She’s bubbly and laughing, flipping her hair away from her face as the breeze blows it all around.
She catches my gaze, and everything freezes for a second, those ocean-colored eyes grabbing my soul.
“Nah,” I say after a longer-than-necessary pause. “I’m just chilling tonight.”
Wyatt doesn’t want me banging his sister. And I get that. But what if it’s more than physical? Would he be pissed if I was into her? Like…really, really into her for a hell of a lot more than just her looks?
He’d for sure want us to be together, right? He just doesn’t want me casually hooking up with her.
Which is good. Because that’s not even close to what I want.
Eleven
Kendall
“I definitely should not drive.” I lean against Andre’s rock of a body as we walk through the parking lot outside of the high-rise.
The moon is full and bright, and the warm air wraps me up like a blanket.
“I only had one drink,” he says, sliding a strong arm around my shoulders, holding me tight against him. “I can drive you home.”
Disappointment swirls in my already swirly head. I don’t want to go home. Every neuron in my brain and every cell in my body are screaming at me to stay as close to him as humanly possible.
It’s just the liquor. I should go home.
But I know it’s not just the liquor, because I’ve been feeling this way since the second he walked into my office last week. It’s just a little…stronger now.
“Actually…” I turn to him. His eyes glisten in the moonlight. “There’s something I have to do at the house—your house,” I add quickly, brushing hair away from my face and fighting a giddy smile. “I have to take some measurements for the…bathroom tile.”
Okay. That was the liquor.
Andre runs a thumb along my jawline, lingering on my bottom lip and igniting sparks through my entire body. “You have to do that right now?”
I know that he’s teasing me. I’m a tiny bit tipsy, but still completely aware of that crooked smile and playful expression.
“Yes,” I whisper, wetting my lips and gazing up at him. “It’s a very urgent matter.”
He locks eyes with me for an extra beat, everything about him tempting me. The curls on his head are begging for me to run my fingers through them. His soft, sexy lips are just asking to be kissed.
“All right,” he rasps, keeping his gaze on me as he reaches into his pocket and clicks the unlock button for his fancy-ass car. “Let’s ride, then.”
Yeah, Andre. Let’s.
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I slide into the passenger’s seat and lean back against the smooth, cool leather.
Andre starts the car, and the engine roars, making me giggle and roll my eyes and try to pretend I’m not completely and totally turned on.
As we cruise the curves in the roads, laughing and talking and admiring the beauty of the scenery, I notice the alcohol has mostly worn off. I’m not a heavy drinker. I can’t stand not being completely in control. But right now, I still feel crazy-intoxicated on something that isn’t alcohol.
Every time I look at him, at his sharp, handsome profile, and his massive hands on the steering wheel, I feel like I’m seeing him in a new light. Every minute, my body burns and aches more and more for the need to feel him physically.
A feeling that is familiar, but totally new.
As he whips the car into the driveway, I lean forward and shift my attention to the Esplanade House. “Gosh. It’s even more stunning at night.”
I swing open the car door and hop out, taking in a long inhale and savoring the salty ocean air.
“Florida nights.” Andre flips his keys in his hand and shakes his head, motioning for me to follow him into the house. “There’s really nothing like ’em.”
He pushes open the heavy wooden front door, and I walk in first.
“That’s gonna be glass.” I knock on the dense, hard wood. “It’s on the list.”
“Good.” He laughs. “Because that thing reminds me of some sort of old castle entrance or some shit.”
I laugh and slowly walk through the foyer, my feet crunching on the plastic sheets and tarps laid all over to protect the floor.
“I’m so sorry about the mess.” Andre looks at me with his brows raised in mock concern. “There’s this absolutely crazy girl who’s renovating my house, which evidently includes completely destroying every inch of it first.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest, and I let myself lean against his arm. “She sounds like a real pain in the ass.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” He looks down at me and winks, instantly turning my knees into gooey liquid.
I draw in a slow, shuddery breath and swallow hard. Heat radiates from his body and electrifies me.
“So…” he whispers, his voice deep and husky, echoing through my brain and down my spine. “You needed to measure something?”
I narrow my eyes and inch closer to his lips, which curl into a wide smile. “You’re about to make a dick joke, aren’t you?” I chew my lip and stifle a laugh.
He chuckles, his eyes a mesmerizing cocktail of playfulness and seriousness, of flirtation and intensity. “Hey, you said it. Not me.”
I let my hands find his back and slowly run up and down his hard, cut muscles. His chest rises and falls, and my heart slams like a bass drum.
I know the second I look up that he’s going to kiss me. And I’m going to kiss him back. Because right here, in this midrenovation mansion, with the man I’ve dreamed of since I knew how to dream, there’s really just no other option.
Unless he rejects me again.
I hold my body against him harder and try to push away that nagging thought. I’m still looking down.
“Hey.” He touches my chin and angles my face up to find his gaze, which is gleaming with lust and attraction, but also with concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say under my breath. “Yeah, I’m good,” I add quickly, waving a dismissive hand through the air.
“What’s up, then?” He frowns a little.
I inhale to say something, but stop myself. “Just a bit of…” I force a smile and try to keep it playful. “Déjà vu.”
“Ah.” He draws back, relaxing a little. “Kendall, that was seven years ago. And trust me, I had no idea how much it hurt you when I turned you down that night. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I thought we talked about—”
“We did.” I nod. “I know. We did.” I sigh and lean against the wall.
You’re right, Andre. It was seven years ago. And here I am, seven years later, wanting you to take my freaking virginity.
“Look, I’ll be real with you.” He runs a hand through his soft curls, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m pretty into you. And I know there’s this weird past, and I know you’re Wyatt’s sister. But I can deal with that. We’re adults now.”
Except I don’t feel like one. I feel like a lovestruck teenager all over again.
I pause for a long time, admiring the gentle, honest, painfully hot man who just said he’s actually into me.
“Look…” He leans back, giving me a reassuring smile that hovers somewhere between cocky and humble. “I’m not usually a big feelsy kind of guy. But the way I see it…”
My heart thuds, and I stop breathing while I wait for him to finish that sentence.
“Wyatt wants you safe and not to get hurt, right?”
I nod slowly, furrowing my brow. “Right, I guess. He wants what all big brothers want.”
“Well, that being the case…we shouldn’t hook up.”
My heart sinks, and disappointment hits my gut. “Oh.” I draw back and swallow hard, fixing a flyaway strand of hair. “Okay. You’re right.”
“We should be together.”
I swear the earth stops turning as I blink rapidly and try, unsuccessfully, to form a coherent response. Did Andre Smoke just say, We should be together? The same Andre Smoke who’s a multimillion-dollar-contracted household name in the sports world and the object of every woman’s fantasy, including my own?
The world still isn’t turning.
“Andre…” is all I can manage.
He smiles, reading the shock on my face. “Think about it. I don’t…” He scratches the back of his head and looks to the side, then back at me with a soft fire in his gaze. “I don’t really want just something casual with you. I’d be down for…the real deal.”
Every neuron in my brain is screaming bloody murder that this is really all I’ve wanted since I was a kid, and now he’s standing right in front of me asking for the real freaking deal?
“What do you say, baby Collins?” he asks softly, that half smile melting me.
I shut my eyes for a second, knowing if there was ever a moment to abandon all logic and rational thinking and just follow my heart and body and soul, then…shit. This is that moment.
So I listen to my thirteen-year-old self, and I lean forward and kiss him, hard, hoping that’s enough of an answer.
In an instant, his hands are holding me tightly, wrapped around my waist, and pulling me closer.
I let out a soft whimper as the entire world spins and an avalanche of butterflies lets loose in my stomach.
Andre tastes like mint and whiskey and sex, and kisses like a freaking god. His hand slides up my body, and his thumb grazes my nipple, making me gasp against his mouth.
He parts my lips with his and teases me with his tongue, sending hot aches down between my legs and chills down my spine.
Everything in his kiss feels perfect. Like I’ve always imagined it would, but so much more. I find myself smiling against him, laughing and gasping through the heat and passion of kissing.
He laughs, too, stroking my hair and my body and my face, both of us savoring the desperate anticipation and playful irony mixing in this moment.
“Come here, you.” Andre coasts his hands down my body and gives my ass a firm grab, making me suck in a breath of pleasure and surprise.
He cups my behind and effortlessly lifts me up, locking our lips back together as I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to his broad shoulders and feeling like he could just carry me literally anywhere.
“Watch the wall,” I say through a giggle, my mouth still pressed to his as he holds me up, stumbling through the hallway to the bedroom.
“You mean the wall that you’re gonna just take down and destroy anyway?” He holds me tight as we finally get to his room. “Open idea?”
“Concept.” I laugh and manage an eye roll as he lowers me onto the bed.
&nbs
p; My laughter quickly turns to a soft gasp as he positions himself on top of me, his heavy, solid heat pressing me into the bed.
I let my fingers slide over and adore every muscle as he kisses me, rocking against me and sending shockwaves reverberating through my body.
He dips his chin, kissing my neck and collarbone with the perfect balance of aggression and gentleness.
I arch underneath him as he slips his hands around my waist and holds me in his arms as he kisses lower and lower, slightly grazing the swell of my breasts with his tongue, turning my panties into a pool.
The walls and the world disappear. I wrap my legs around him and draw in a shaky breath as he slides his hand under my shirt, slipping it off with ease.
As he unclips my bra and cups my breasts, I can feel the length of his rock-hard erection grinding against me. All the sparks and fireworks in my head intensify as I run my fingers down his back and let my body beg him for more.
Everything is hot and slippery and desperate, and as he holds my waist and savors my body like it’s a treasure, I watch the hunger glint in his eyes and realize he wants me just as bad as I want him.
The realization pulls a smile onto my mouth as I pant and moan and breathe him in.
“You’re…” He unbuttons my jeans and tugs at the waistband slowly. “So fucking perfect, Kendall.”
Perfect.
Not hot or sexy or fine. Perfect.
Something new and bitter rises in my chest and pangs hard. Guilt?
I swallow and turn my head to the side, pressing into the silky sheets and cursing myself for hesitating or questioning the overwhelming bliss of this moment. But I know in my heart, if this is going to go any further, he deserves to know it would be my first time. That’s not something you can just keep from someone. As much as my body is needing and screaming and aching to dive headfirst into sex with Andre, I can’t keep the truth from him for another second.
I draw in a slow breath and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, angling his head toward me and pulling his attention away from the apparently very confusing zipper of my pants.
Rough Ride Page 8
