Pucking Parker (Face-Off Legacy Book 1)

by Jillian Quinn

  I smile, and it’s not even the slightest bit forced. “Thanks, Parker. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Spending the day with Preston has lowered my walls. He’s not as much of an ass as I had thought.

  “Shannon,” Jamie says to a girl with long blonde hair. “This is Bex.” He points to me. “And her friend, Taylor. They’re the girls I was telling you about.”

  “Oh, hey.” Shannon strolls over to us. “You two are such lifesavers. We were ready to bail on the contest until Jamie told me you could fill in for our friends.”

  “I don’t know how to dance,” I admit.

  “Yes, you do.” Taylor smacks my arm. “Bex is being modest.”

  “Okay, fine.” I hold up my hands. “But if we lose, don’t blame me.”

  Taylor invades Shannon’s personal space, already acting as if they’re best friends. “So, what do you need us to do?”

  “It’s nothing special. Just have fun. We have a few moves we were planning to do. But we don’t have to do anything choreographed. Move your hips to the beat and do whatever feels natural to you.”

  Preston comes up from behind me, placing both of his big hands on my hips. My entire body hums from his energy. He dips his head down, until his lips are so close, his breath on my earlobe. He sways my hips, rocking me from side to side. “Nothing to it, Bex.”

  Do that again.

  I don’t want him to stop touching me, and now that he’s all over me, I know tonight is going to end me with me in his bed. I want him so bad my pussy clenches from the promise of his hands on me, his cock filling me up. I haven’t wanted a guy this much since Kellan. And that was a long time ago.

  I look up at him, haunted by his beautiful blue eyes. “Easy for you to say. Maybe you should get up on the bar and shake your ass for money.”

  He laughs. “For five hundred bucks, I would.”

  “I think I need a drink,” I admit. “I had some vodka before we left the dorm, but it wasn’t enough for me to do this.”

  His hands on my bare skin send shivers down my spine. A blaze of heat licks my stomach as his fingers graze my navel. Without my permission, a soft whimper escapes my lips. Is he doing this to get me to focus on him, instead of the dance competition? Well, it’s working.

  “I’ll be right there… watching you. Look at me and no one else.”

  “Okay.” I suck in a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

  When we step inside the club, the bass is thumping, the music vibrating beneath my four-inch heels. I look like a giant in these. I’m well over six feet tall with them on, which makes me stick out even more. The other girls in our group are on the petite side, with the exception of Taylor. She’s almost as tall as me and built like an athlete.

  “We have to check in,” Shannon informs us.

  Preston slips his fingers between mine as we move through the mass of people. A prick of electricity stings my fingers. His calloused skin is so rough against mine, and I can’t stop myself from wondering how his hands would feel on other parts of my body.

  After Shannon confirms our spot in the competition, I untangle my fingers from Preston’s, already missing his warmth.

  I smile. “Wish me luck.”

  He gives me a crooked smile that sets my insides on fire. “Good luck. Remember what I said. If you get nervous, look at me. And no one else. It’s no different than playing in a game or a tournament. You’ve had thousands of people watch you over the course of your college basketball career.”

  “True. But I’m good at basketball. That comes natural to me. Dancing doesn’t.”

  “It’s one dance. No one will even know you were up there after tonight. The money is for charity. That should give you more incentive to win.”

  I flash a reassuring grin at him. “Thanks, Parker.”

  He winks. “Anytime.”

  I turn away from Preston, now following Shannon and her friends to the back of the club. A bouncer ushers us into a large open room with vanities on one wall, where a few girls are seated. Others stand behind them, fixing their hair or makeup in the mirror.

  I recognize some of the girls, and I have no idea why.

  “Do they look familiar to you?” I ask Taylor, motioning to the girls in the right-hand corner of the room.

  She tilts her head to the side, taking her time to look them over. “Yeah, I know them. Those are the girls from Kappa something or other. I can’t remember the full name of their sorority.” Taylor glances around the room, her eyes landing on another team of girls in the center of the room.

  “Hello, have you not seen all the lights out there?” A girl says from behind us, talking loudly to her friend. “They’re filming this for the senior project. It’s in high def.” She tugs on the girl’s arm, helping her to an open chair. “C’mon, I need your expert blending skills. This concealer is being a real bitch. I don’t want to go out there looking like a pumpkin.”

  I shudder at the mention of the senior project. Will I be included in this footage? For my sake, I hope not. How would I explain this to my dad?

  I feel so out of place around these girls. My childhood was spent at either an ice rink or on a basketball court—not at Neiman Marcus. They are the kind of girls Preston would date. Beautiful and made up like Barbie dolls.

  Shannon introduces us to the girls in our dance group, seven in total. I can’t remember any of their names. Mostly because I know I won’t need to after this dance is over. We will go our separate ways after tonight.

  Once it’s our turn, a bouncer leads us out of the room and down the creepy back hallway. He pushes open a door that leads to a long bar, the one we’re expected to dance on. He helps each of us onto the bar. There are so many people in the crowd.

  Why did I agree to this?

  I shouldn’t have bet Preston. But why not? I should have won. H-O-R-S-E is my jam. It should have been a slam dunk. But Preston had other plans, and with a mom like his, the game was probably already in the bag for him before I even knew it.

  I squint when the bright lights hit me in the face, now realizing why the girl in the dressing room was so concerned about her makeup. Poles line the bar, each of us stepping forward to grab hold of one. I glance over at Taylor, my body shaking from fear. No amount of drinks could have prepared me for the throng of drunken idiots staring up at me.

  Recalling Preston’s encouraging words, I scan the crowd for him. He’s three rows back from the edge of the bar when his eyes find mine. I bite my bottom lip, trying to contain my nerves. He must notice my reaction, because he taps Jamie on the shoulder, telling him to move forward.

  Preston’s friends follow his lead, and I can’t take my eyes off him. Because of Preston, I don’t care about the people in the audience. The only person that matters is staring back at me, keeping me grounded.

  I smile, and this time, I feel more confident, like I can handle this. One dance. One song. And it’s for a good cause.

  An announcer, with a microphone in hand, stands at the center of the bar. He introduces us as House Theta. Once the song starts, the girls next to me sway to the beat. And I freeze up. Staring at them in horror, I tell myself to move, but I can’t budge. Then, it hits me. I look worse standing up here, frozen in place. So, I find Preston again.

  His eyes burn a hole through me. He licks his lips, as if he likes what he sees. I’m dancing for him—and only him. Moving my hips to the beat, I go with the flow, allowing the rhythm to take over. Preston inches through the crowd, until he’s standing below me. I drop to the bar, shaking my ass along with the rest of the girls.

  I laugh, and once I do, I can’t stop. This is fun, way more fun than I had realized. All I had to do was lighten up, lower my guard. But everything comes to a screeching halt when someone drops a glass. My shoe collides with a puddle of spilled liquid, and I lose my balance. The sudden disruption causes me to fall forward.

  Except my body never hits the floor. Preston’s strong arms wrap around me, his muscles tigh
tening as he holds me. The scent of sweat, musk, and laundry detergent fill my nostrils. He smells so manly I want to stick my tongue out and lick him.

  “You okay, Bex?” he whispers into my ear, his voice deep and sensual.

  “No, I think I might die from humiliation. I told you this was a bad idea.”

  He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, inspecting me. “You were killing it up there before. What happened?”

  “Someone spilled their drink. I slid on it and couldn’t grab the pole in time to steady myself.” I run my hand through my hair, frustrated with the turn of events. “They’re going to lose, all because of me.”

  He sets me on the floor, keeping his hand on my hip. “Don’t worry about winning. No matter which team wins, the money will help fund a good cause.”

  “Yeah, but I feel like I let everyone down.”

  “Nah. They’ll get over it. Shannon’s pretty chill. And at least you held up your end of the deal. Now, I know you’ll follow through with any future bets we make.”

  “This is the last one,” I say, not sure if I mean it. Because I don’t want this to be the last time I hang out with Preston. “No more dares.”

  “You’re no fun, Bex Bryant.” He tilts a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a sip.

  I grab it from his hand and gulp down the remainder of its contents. “I’m tons of fun.”

  “Prove it,” he challenges.

  “How do you expect me to do that?”

  “For starters, you can dance with me.”

  “How about a drink first?”

  He nods. “Deal. What are you having?”

  “Whatever you’re ordering.”

  “And then you’re mine,” he growls.

  A ripple of pleasure shoots through my body.

  I’m his.

  Chapter Ten

  Preston

  Rap music cranks through the speakers suspended from the ceiling of The Sixth Floor. The bass vibrates beneath my feet, sending a tremor up my legs. My dick is semi-hard, and it’s not from the sea of half-naked women which surrounds me. Because all I can see is Bex. She has no idea how sexy she can be without even trying.

  Her anxious stares and nervous lip biting only make her more real. More my type. Most girls care about my name and what I have to offer them. Not Bex. I find myself lowering my guard around her, telling her things I wouldn’t confess to other girls.

  For a split second, I even consider what it would be like to date her. Then I remember her dad’s rules. And his warning. I can’t jeopardize my spot on the team. She deserves better than me.

  Bex slides her fingers up my arm, and now she has my undivided attention. Her skin is soft against mine. Flames lick my skin everywhere she touches, her fingers slowly navigating my bicep. She’s rough around the edges, but there’s a softer side to her. A side she keeps hidden.

  I lick my lips, and the corners of her mouth curl up into a smile. Taking a sip from the beer in my hand, I suck down the last of it before setting it down on the bar.

  “You promised me a dance,” I remind her.

  She nods. “How could I forget?”

  I take the beer from her and chug the rest of it, leaving it on the bar.

  “Hey, I was drinking that,” she shouts over the music, and then smacks my arm.

  I grab her hand and pull her into my chest, dragging her far enough into the crowd that we’re in the middle of the dance floor. Tilting her head back, she stares up at the bright strobe lights shining from one side of the room to the other. I watch as she admires the light show above us. She’s so beautiful I could look at her all day.

  Hooking my arm around her back, I close the short distance between us. She presses her palms to my chest. Her bright blue eyes slice right through me. I lose myself in Bex. In this moment. Nothing around us matters anymore. Not the sweat-slick bodies rubbing against us or the wave of heat that rolls through the club like a thick fog.

  When I look at Bex, I no longer see what we’re doing as wrong. I like that we’re forbidden to be together. Knowing there’s a risk of getting caught makes being with her even more exciting. I think she likes it, too.

  A tiny smile crosses her lips as she slides her hands further down my chest, stopping at the hem of my jeans. Her fingers linger. My cock thickens the longer she touches me. My skin pricks with electricity when Bex slips one of her fingers below the waist of my pants.

  Fuck, I can’t stand it anymore.

  What is she doing to me? I’m two seconds away from bending her over. Her slow exploration of my body stops, and I instantly miss her touch. She steps back, almost bumping into the girl behind her. Making eye contact with me, she sways her hips to the music.

  She wants me.

  She wants me to watch her.

  I want her.

  I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

  Because there’s nothing I want more than Bex.

  Bex inches toward me, raising her hands above her head, as she rocks her hips to the now techno beat. My mouth falls open. I can’t believe my eyes. Bex Bryant has transformed into a different girl. She’s confident, more in charge of her body. This isn’t the same girl who fell from the bar. Not even close.

  I reach down to fix my growing erection, and her eyes follow my hand. Her expression changes, as if she’s hungry and needs me to satisfy her craving. Bex turns around, with her back facing me. She rubs her ass on my thigh. As if to intentionally torture me, she takes her time moving her tight ass up and down my leg, making her way closer to my cock.

  I’m rock hard now and definitely going home with blue balls if she keeps this up. But I don’t want her to stop. She leans back, her head on my chest, and peeks up at me without breaking stride. Reaching behind her, she grabs my hip, using me for support as she bends forward. She knows what she’s doing and doesn’t care.

  Dropping low, she pushes her ass into me. I take that as an offering and palm her backside with my hands. For a girl who doubted herself about the dance contest, Bex sure has moves. And she sure as hell knows how to work each of her killer curves.

  Moving one hand to her bare stomach, the other still on her ass, I bring her back to my height. In these heels, she’s only a few inches shorter than me. She’s so damn tall. I’ve never dated a girl I couldn’t tuck under my arm.

  I lean forward to whisper in her ear, and she stills from my breath on her skin. “Keep grinding on my dick like that, and I won’t be able to stop myself.”

  Bex tilts her head back so that our eyes meet. Sweat dots her forehead, glistening on her skin. “Stop you from doing what?”

  “You know what,” I growl, tracing my fingers over her well-defined ab muscles. “I’m trying to follow the rules.”

  “Maybe I want to break them.” I stare at her, confused, and she continues, “Just for tonight.”

  Is she serious?

  Well, fuck me.

  Literally.

  Chapter Eleven

  Preston

  After a few more drinks and too much friction from Bex’s tight ass, I can’t take it anymore. I have a hard-on that will not quit. And she knows damn well what’s she doing to me. She can feel my erection digging into her ass.

  Surprisingly, she gets even more bold and reaches behind her back, raking her fingers down my chest until she finds my very hard cock. Since the minute I saw Bex, I wanted her. As much as I try to deny it, I’m only lying to myself. I grow even harder for her, filling her hand.

  Needing a distraction, I dip down to kiss her neck. She squirms in my arms, and a soft moan escapes her lips. Bex hasn’t told me to stop. She’s pretty much challenging me to break the rules for tonight. I flatten my tongue, running it along her neck, making sure to lick every inch of her skin.

  “Make me stop,” I whisper into her ear.

  She shakes her head. “Don’t. Stop.” Her words come out in ragged breaths.

  Adrenaline rushes through my veins. The feeling is better than the high I get from a buzzer-
beating breakaway. When I apply more pressure, raking my teeth along her skin, she whimpers. It’s so fucking sexy I could nut in my boxers.

  Bex takes my hand, moving it from her hip to her stomach. She keeps going, inviting me to touch her. Her nipples are like daggers poking through her thin spandex top. I twist one of them between my fingers, and she squeals. And I’m dead. Because it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

  Cupping her chin in my hand, I hold her in place, long enough to plant a trail of kisses along her jaw. She locks onto me, knowing this is it. There’s no turning back. Bex nods, as if granting me permission. I pull down her bottom lip with my thumb, and she sticks out her tongue. Her wet heat coats my finger, igniting a fire inside me.

  I lick my lips. She does the same. And then my lips crash into hers. There’s so much intensity behind the kiss Bex stumbles backward. But I’m there to catch her, pinning her against my chest. With each flick of her tongue, Bex consumes me. She owns me. And I claim her in return.

  Our slow exploration of each other’s mouth turns into a heated debate for which of us can have more power over the other. And why am I surprised? Bex isn’t like the girls I normally hook up with. She wants to be in control. She’s used to doing things her way. But she doesn’t realize I’m always in charge.

  I take her lip between my teeth and suck on it, tugging at her delicate flesh. She slides her hand to the back of my head, commanding control once more. And I fight her. Because this back and forth between us is turning me on too much to stop. She’s so damn feisty. Not like I expected anything else from Bex.

  I sweep my tongue into her mouth, and she lets go, melting into me. Her body relaxes against mine, as if she’s finally given in. We stay like this for what feels like hours, until our lips separate.

  She’s panting, barely able to catch her breath.