by Jacob Chance
Thank God he’s never read the entries or knows of their existence. I’ve no doubt he’d love to see his name at the top of my ‘wish list’ of guys I’d like to be with. It’s a short list, but he’s still in the top spot.
“Say I’m going to go along with your theory about my drink, what would you suggest?” Gripping the stem, I hold out my empty glass.
His fingers close around the rim, sliding it across the bar while his eyes study me carefully. Raking his teeth over his bottom lip, the action calls my attention to their full shape. He probably did that on purpose.
Returning my focus upward, I catch his amused expression. Yep. He did. The bastard.
“Devil’s Advocate.”
“Is that the name of the drink, or are you playing one?”
He smiles. “That’s the name of the drink. Although, that’s also one of my favorite parts to play.”
Okay, I’ll go along with your game. “What’s in it?”
“Fireball whiskey, spiced rum, apple schnapps, and lemon-lime soda.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds horrible.”
“I figured you wouldn’t try it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s just that this drink is probably too much for you to handle.”
I rise to my full height and narrow my eyes at him. “I can handle more than you could imagine, buddy.”
He grins and looks at me appraisingly. “Can you now? I’d like to see exactly how much you can handle.”
Wait a minute.
Is he still talking about this drink? Or is he flirting with me?
My stomach tumbles madly at the thought of him being interested in me.
Turning, I raise my hand signaling the bartender once more. He ambles over, but before I can order, Clancy beats me to it.
“Can I get a Devil’s Advocate for her and a Jameson neat for me?”
“Sure thing,” he replies, before moving toward the clean glasses.
“Have you ever tried this drink?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I have, actually. One of my cousins went to bartending school and I helped him out by trying all the drinks he made.”
“I’m sure that was a real hardship for you.” I roll my eyes. What young guy wouldn’t jump at the opportunity for free booze?
“You can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. “But that’s the kind of guy I am. I’ll jump right in there and take the bull by the horns when no one else wants to.” His tone is teasing, but he probably thinks he’s all that.
And he is.
Tall and thick-chested with shoulder length blond hair, he can get any girl he wants and probably has had most of them.
He’s captain of the hockey team at Boston University and, from what I’ve heard, an animal on the ice. And if I had to guess, I’d say between the sheets too.
They don’t call him ‘Wilde Man’ for nothing.
I’ve heard too much about his love ‘em and leave ‘em ways from Sophie. I know she wanted me informed so I would keep my distance.
What she doesn’t understand is being aware of his hook ups doesn’t turn me off like you’d think it would. It makes me assume he must be really good between the sheets from all that practice.
Clancy is the worst kind of player there is because he’s also a nice guy. And it would be all too easy to fall for him without meaning to.
He leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him wherever he goes. Even I’m susceptible to his handsome face and charming personality.
And let’s not forget that hard body.
The bartender returns, placing my drink on a napkin in front of me. Eyeing the beverage skeptically, I can’t help but wonder what it will taste like.
Golden in color, it looks harmless enough, but Clancy rattled off the liquor content, so I know it’s going to pack a punch.
His Jameson gets set on the bar and he immediately raises the glass to his lips for a sip. “Come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” He tips his chin toward my drink. “Try it. I’m interested in hearing what you think.”
Uncrossing my arms, I hesitantly close my fingers around the tumbler. It’s cold against my skin.
“Go on. It’s not going to bite you. At least not right away.” He laughs.
It’s his amusement at my expense that goads me into raising the glass to my lips and knocking it back in one continuous gulp. I don’t stop until every drop is gone. Raising my head, my empty hand lands on my tingling lips.
I try not to cringe from the sweet aftertaste in my mouth, followed by a fiery burn down my esophagus and into my stomach. It feels like I swallowed a tiny fire breathing dragon.
The ice in the empty glass clinks together as I place the tumbler on the bar. A weary warmth envelops my limbs, instantly relaxing me.
Clancy watches for a reaction. “So? What did you think?”
Hmm. What do I think?
“It was better than I thought it would be. It’s definitely sweet, almost too much so. And it feels a little like I swallowed fire.” Licking my lips, I taste a bit of the lemon-lime mixed with the apple, or maybe I’m just imagining it. Either way, it’s not as unpleasant as I expected.
“The second one will taste even better,” he states.
“Second one? I don’t think my stomach can take another. It might already be flaming.”
“Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.” He winks and gestures to the bartender for two more drinks.
“Okay, but this is the last one. I don’t want to get drunk and feel like crap tomorrow morning. I plan on making the most of this weekend.”
“You mentioned before that you can handle a lot, so I think you’ll be fine.”
He’s so annoying for throwing my own words back at me. I’m going to have this one last drink and after that, if Clancy doesn’t find somewhere else to be, I will.
I’m not going to let him weasel his way past my defenses, or into my panties, like so many girls do.
I’m smarter than they are.
But do I want to be?
Our drinks get pushed along the shiny bar top toward us. Clancy tucks two twenty dollar bills down into the tip cup and hands my glass to me. He picks up his own and holds it up in the air.
“I think a toast is in order.”
“Why?”
“Because this is a happy occasion and it’s the first time we’ve had a chance to talk in a long time.” He leans closer.
“I’m not sure what you mean. We’ve never really talked much.”
“Well, maybe we should rectify that.” His voice lowers becoming impossibly deep.
I angle my torso toward him. “Okay. Whatever floats your boat, dude.” My words contradict my body language.
“Don’t sound so happy at the prospect. Look, I’ll even make the toast, all you have to do is say cheers. You can handle that, right?” I shake my hand like I’m holding a pom pom and he grins. “To friendship… close friendship.”
I mutter, “Cheers.” And ignore his innuendo.
There.
My duty is done.
Now to finish this drink and get away from all this suffocating machismo before I collapse under the weight of it. I don’t want to be one of those girls who give in easily. He should have to put in some effort for a change. I drink down this Devil’s Advocate slightly slower than the first one, but when all is said and done, it’s still pretty fast. I want to get away from Clancy ASAP.
No. I need to.
He’s looking a little too attractive and he smells amazing. I’ve been breathing shallowly for the past ten minutes trying to convince myself I was imagining it, but I’m not.
Trying to resist him after wanting him for so long is taking more restraint than I have. How do I ignore this opportunity when I may never get the chance to be with him again?
Setting the empty glass down, I lean toward him and sniff. He smells like sex in the woods. Okay, he looks like sex. But he smells like a c
ombination of pine and wood, very manly.
“Did you just smell me?”
“No. My allergies have been bothering me and I was just making sure my nasal passages are clear.”
What the fuck?
It’s not the greatest answer, but hey, it’s on the fly.
“And are they?”
“Yeah, you smell great.”
Dammit.
He smiles triumphantly and grabs my hand. “Let’s dance.”
I’m trotting along beside him before I can disagree. “Wait. I don’t want to dance with you.” I put up a token resistance and try to tug my hand free, but I want to be in his arms. Judging from the sly grin twisting his lips, he knows it too.
“Well, I want to dance with you. Come on. How bad can it be? Just one dance.”
Sighing, I give in and go with the flow, letting Clancy draw me into his arms. Agreeing is the path of least resistance. That’s what I tell myself anyway.
Those two drinks have what little resolve is left waning and my body feels languid and loose enough to relax against him.
Of course, a slow song would have to be playing. Silently I cheer and curse the universe at the same time.
Molded to the front of Clancy’s muscular body is the last place I should be.
But it might be the only place I want to be now that I am.
Which makes me a dumbass because I know he’s a top-notch player and I’m not supposed to get played by him.
But is it getting played when you go into the situation with your eyes wide open?
Sophie, his own cousin, has warned me to stay away from him. Therefore, I’m not supposed to be dancing closely with Clancy, and I’m definitely not supposed to be enjoying it.
I probably shouldn’t be so excited about the prospect of placing a check mark next to his name in my old diary. My stomach leaps and twirls. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
Who knew that dancing could feel so sexual? That every particle that makes up my body could hum with awareness? That every brush of our hips teases me to the point I might splinter?
His large hands wander over my spine, sending chills plucking down each vertebra like fingertips on guitar strings.
His palms are hot against my lower back, caressing me. Making me want them to slide lower and cup my ass.
When his actions mimic my thoughts, my breath stutters. One cheek in each hand, he squeezes, urging me closer to his obvious hard-on.
Well, this escalated fast.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he confesses in a hoarse voice with his lips against my ear. “Holding you is the best thing about this wedding.”
“I’m not going to fall for your bullshit,” I inform him, leaning closer.
But who am I kidding?
I fell the moment I saw him standing next to me.
“Noted. But you don’t have to fall for me to fuck me. So, what do you say?” He grinds into me and I let out a low moan, my eyelids sweeping shut. “You know it will be mind-blowing. Fuck. You’re halfway to an orgasm already.”
My eyes snap open with annoyance. Is it possible to want to screw someone and strangle them at the same time?
“So are you. How do I know you won’t... “ I struggle for a polite way to say what I need to. “End early.”
He laughs. “I won’t. And even if I did, it wouldn’t keep me down for long.” He winks. “I recover fast.”
I curl my upper lip at him, but it’s really at myself. I hate being so tempted by his hard, hot body. But I’m pretty sure he could tempt a nun to throw caution to the wind.
Besides, I haven’t had sex in too fucking long.
In fact, I can’t even remember how much time it’s actually been.
But none of those reasons matter. What it boils down to is that I've never been the girl to doubt myself or to not go after the things I want.
I want Clancy Wilde.
He’s been an object of my desire for years now. He’s smoking hot and I’m pretty sure sex with him won’t make me regretful.
You only live once, and tonight I’m going to grab onto Clancy and enjoy the ride.
Want to find out what happens with Clancy and Tenley?
Click HERE to read the rest of CHECKED.
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to every reader who purchased, borrowed or read BLOCKED with Kindle Unlimited. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to have this amazing career that I love.
Thank you to my PA, Diane, for all the things you do to keep me organized and get my books seen. I know how much work you put into the past four months with 3 books releasing. I promise to never do this again. (My fingers might be crossed).
I have to thank my amazing editor and proofreader, Shauna Stevenson from Ink Machine Editing. Shauna please don’t fire me as a client for getting my chapters to you last minute once again. Just know that I have really great intentions and no matter how much I write every day, it still happens. I really appreciate how quickly and efficiently you get to my stuff. Thanks for another great job.
Marley Valentine, thank you for doing such a great job on the formatting of Blocked. You made it look so great, as usual.
Thank you to Marley and Lindsay for being my betas. You guys gave me such helpful feedback. I appreciate it so much.
Thank you to Shauna for coming up with the last name Masters. It was a much better option than what I had originally chosen.
Thank you to all the members of my Facebook reader’s group Spoiled by Chance for all your support. I feel you guys for pushing me on those frustrating days when I want to throw in the towel. Thank you for being so incredibly supportive of me and my books. You guys have embraced my storyline choices from day one and your enthusiasm is awesome.
Thank you for all the shares you give my graphics and for recommending my books every chance you get. It’s an amazing feeling to have such a strong support system behind me every step of the way.
About the Author
Jacob Chance grew up in New England and still lives there today. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.
All his books are available on Amazon
THE QUAKE SERIES
QUAKE | QUIVER | DELVE | TIED | DELUDE | QUAKE DUET | DELVE DUET
THE BOSTON TERRIERS FOOTBALL SERIES
PENALTY | DRIVE | COACH | TACKLE | JOCK | SCORE
THE BOSTON TERRIERS HOCKEY SERIES
CHECKED | ICED | BLOCKED
WORLD CLASS WRESTLING
TUSSLE | RUMBLE
KING UNIVERSITY SERIES
DEPRAVITY | DEVILRY | DEBAUCHERY
STANDALONES
PUNCHED | CANVAS | EDGE OF RETRIBUTION
ON THE EDGE SERIES
EDGE OF RETRIBUTION | EDGE OF HONOR | EDGE OF FOREVER
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