by Lane Hart
"We're getting it all out of our systems now, I swear," Jax assures me, still unable to hide his smile at my expense and at his son’s new vocabulary.
"Fine, but I'll kick your ass-pen if you or your wife crack one joke," I warn, catching myself that time.
"We'll be on our best behavior," Page says, pulling out her phone. "Now let me get some pictures of you three tall, dark, and handsome guys together. You look seriously hot, Jude."
"Hey!" Jax scoffs with jealousy at her compliment, and I punch him in the ribs with my free hand, knowing he won't hit me back as long as I'm holding his son.
After a few poses, I fasten Xavier back into his car seat so I can head out.
"Getting practice?" Jax laughs. "Is Sadie still in the five-point harness system or just a booster seat these days?"
"That better be the last one."
"Okay. I'm done. Until tomorrow. I'm sure I'll think of a few more later tonight."
I groan and walk back to my big, blue Toyota Tundra, and wait for them to move so I can leave the driveway. Coach lives just a few streets over from us, right near his gym, and when we pull up to the curb, the limo is already in the driveway. It's a big son of a bitch, too. A stretched Cadillac Escalade. A group of kids dressed in prom attire stand around the yard that's also littered with parents and camera flashes.
“I'm too old for this shit,” I mumble to myself, but nevertheless, climb out of my truck. I know Coach would never forgive me if I back out now.
I scan the clusters of people, looking for Sadie. When I don't see her, I head for her father.
"Damn, Jude. I'm not sure I've ever seen you in anything but sweats." Coach Briggs chuckles, with a pat on my shoulder.
"Didn't think my sweats would be appropriate attire tonight," I reply, running my hands down the sky blue vest that, according to the formal wear store, supposedly matched Sadie's dress.
"Sadie's so excited. Thanks for doing this," he says quietly. "They're waiting for one more couple to show and then they'll be ready to go."
I nod as I pull my phone out to look at the time, trying to calculate how many hours I have to endure before this nightmare ends. Great, it's just six-thirty.
"Curfew?" I ask Coach, hoping to God it's early.
"Nah, not tonight."
"What?" I exclaim, baffled. I look over, and he's standing coolly beside me with his hands in his khaki shorts.
"Sadie said the prom lasts until two, and then they have a senior breakfast or something around four." He shrugs like letting his teenage daughter stay out all night long is no big deal.
Four fucking o'clock in the morning? That means I won't be home until...until almost twelve hours from now!
Twelve. As in a whole goddamn day. I didn't sign up for this shit.
"But you probably want her home by two, right?" I ask. More like beg.
"Nah, I know she's in good hands with you."
I'm completely bewildered and speechless at how I've been blindsided by the old man.
Again.
I panic and look around the yard, trying to think of a viable exit strategy. Coming up empty handed, I'm wondering what I've done wrong to warrant God punishing me so severely when my gaze suddenly gets stuck on a tan leg.
Yep, a leg—singular. There's just one, but that damn thing is being flashed from the toe of silver, strappy fuck-me-harder-heels all the way up to a lean hip bone.
A fucking hip bone.
Not a panty line in sight where one typically appears.
As if that wasn't enough to blow my mind, there's another six-inch gap of more golden skin around a sexy flat midriff, showing a teasing hint of navel, before the grand finale of partially covered sequin tits with enough cleavage to smother your face in and die a happy man.
What the fuck is wrong with the girl's parents letting her leave the house dressed like that? If she still has a v-card that shit is about to get revoked by her date in a matter of hours. Maybe minutes or even seconds. Goddamn, this girl is too young to be so fucking sexy.
For the first time ever, I'm ready to say to hell with my own carefully guarded innocence and throw it out the fucking window. My cock enthusiastically agrees. It's throbbing and twitching in her direction so hard I expect the bastard to start beeping frantically like a metal detector discovering gold.
My pervy, cradle-robbing ass is instantly imagining a variety of dirty deeds, all of which include ripping the two small teasing pieces of fabric out of the way to get her naked. And knowing there aren’t any fucking panties on underneath...oh shit. I think I just dribbled like an adolescent boy in my boxer-briefs.
I should've jerked off before coming over here, but how was I supposed to know I'd be this fucking horny and desperate? For a high school girl!
Oh God, my cock doesn't give a shit about age and is so hard it hurts. I wonder if I have time to say I forgot something in my truck, then rub one off real quick. It won't take but a few strokes to get me there. Two, maybe three, tops.
I barely suppress my groan of how good it'd feel to wrap my hand around myself to relieve the pressure...or even better wrap her hand around my cock...or her mouth. Oh yeah, I bet she's got an incredible mouth, too.
When my eyes finally make it above the shoulders of the gorgeous jailbait responsible for making my pants embarrassingly tight, I notice she has long, silky straight blonde hair that falls in a curtain down to the center of her mostly bare back.
And of course, she makes eye contact with me at the exact same moment my hand reaches down to the front of my pants. I’m trying to make a quick crotch adjustment before one of these dads kicks my ass. Her beautiful smile widens, and yes, she has perfect pink and pouty, cock sucking lips I notice right before she heads to me.
Oh shit!
I'm so busted. This chick is going to call me out, and Sadie will be pissed when she finds out I've been eye-fucking one of her friends. Only...the closer the sexy girl comes, the more familiar she looks.
"Sadie?" I think I may have asked the preposterous question aloud. No fucking way.
No.
Fucking.
Way.
It can't be Sadie because this heart-stopper isn't wearing glasses and her hair is stick straight and blonde. But those big green eyes?
Maybe Sadie has an older sister Coach never told us about. Although, upon closer inspection of her revealing dress, it is the same damn light blue as my vest.
"Hey sweetie,” Coach calls out to her from beside me, confirming my suspicion. “You ready?"
Sadie must have a fairy god-damn-mother who bippity-boppity-booped her ass from plain Jane to fine as fuck.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I turn and ask her father, apparently loud enough to make everyone in the yard look our way.
"Excuse me?" Coach replies with a crinkled forehead.
"You actually let her leave the front door of your house looking like that?"
"After spending four hundred dollars on that damn dress, I didn't have much choice."
"That's not a dress. That's...that's..." I snap my gaping mouth closed right before the words "the biggest cock tease I've ever seen" spill out.
"A losing battle," Coach grumbles with a sigh. "Let me get my camera and I'll be right back."
No wonder he wanted me to take Sadie to prom! Any of the other guys at the gym would be trying to bend her over right this second in front of God and everyone. Hell, I'm a virgin, and I want to bend her over right now in front of God and everyone.
I have an ironclad grip on that wasteful emotion known as lust. That shit is responsible for the prevailing downfall of most men, and as I know all too well, some women. Or at least I had a grip on it...until two minutes ago when those raging hormones I missed out on in my teenage years roared to life; angry and overcompensating for the delay. Sure, I have needs, but my hand doesn't require fancy dates or any wooing to leave me feeling satisfied whenever I have the urge. The convenience frees up my time for important shit like training.
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sp; When Coach leaves me standing here alone with temptation personified, it turns damn uncomfortable real quick. Sadie even smells sexy tonight, all floral and shit with a hint of peaches. How does her father expect me to go twelve hours without trying to get under the thin pieces of fabric barely covering her top or bottom? I'm already plotting nefariously to do exactly that.
And how is it possible that Sadie's body is this sexy, and I've never noticed it before?
Thinking back...it must've been the baggy, tomboy clothes she always wears, because if she had walked into the gym like this...holy fuck. My thoughts are so impure I'm probably breaking at least three laws.
Where's Page?
I look around the yard for my attorney sister-in-law. I need her to give me a rundown on whether or not I'll get thrown in jail just for thinking about fucking someone so young. And, yes, much to my horror, I still want to fuck her, even though I now know who she is, which is...damn upsetting.
"So…you don't like my dress?" the temptress asks hesitantly.
I'd like it better if it was pooling around her ankles. It's a goddamn peek-a-boo tease, from the soft swells overflowing at the top making me wonder what shade of pink her nipples are, to the hip bone being flaunted, knowing exactly what I'll find just three inches to the left, but going crazy wondering how she'd taste. Sweet like peaches and flowers? Oh hell, smack my ass and call me a naughty boy because I'm dying to fall to my knees and beg for a fucking taste.
High school boys are selfish bastards, so I'd almost bet my balls she's never had anyone lick her pussy until she screams and convulses. Of course, I've gone down on a few women over the years. As I see it, it's only fair after they suck my cock, and no, despite my name, I'm not a goddamn saint. When a woman gets on her knees, a man doesn't ever refuse that shit. Just ask Bill Clinton.
I wonder what my chances of getting my head between Sadie's legs are tonight. Sex is a staple for prom, right?
Oh shit, I've gone off the deep end so far. I don't even know whether or not she's a virgin. How does one tactfully ask such a thing, and then if the answer is no follow it up with “Wanna fuck”? If she's a virgin...well then, unfortunately, all bets are off.
I could still eat her out, though, right? Hell yes. I'm gonna get my tongue in that tempting pussy if it's the last thing I do.
While I've been ogling her, she's looking at me expectantly like she's waiting for me to answer a question. What was the question? Oh, right, do I like her dress? Ha!
Barely suppressing my groan, I bark out a laugh instead at the absurd question and force myself to look anywhere but at her, shaking my head. "That's not a dress, that's...that's a goddamn cruel and unusual torture device."
"Oh," she says quietly, sounding disappointed.
"Sadie, no, I didn't mean it as a criticism. I just meant me and every other man, or...boy," I amended since they’re high schoolers. "Probably like it too much. Hell, I didn't even recognize you."
"I'd hope not," she says softly. "It took four hours of work to avoid looking like my usual dorky self."
I was about to try and find the words to assure her she's the furthest thing from dorky as she could get when Page interrupts.
"Okay, I want some pictures," my sister-in-law says when she approaches, phone in hand and at the ready. Here's hoping boners are like vampires and don't show up in photos.
BUY JUDE AND THE OTHER COCKY CAGE FIGHTERS NOW ON AMAZON!
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM LANE HART
The Gambling with Love Series
All In: Double or Nothing
All In: Betting on a Full House
All In: Calling His Bluff
All In: Playing the Fool
All In: Playing to Win
All In: Paying to Play
Bound by Blood Paranormal Romance Series
Blood Drive
Blood Ties
Blood Loss
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author Lane Hart was born and raised in North Carolina. She continues to live in the south with her husband, two daughters, and several pets named after Star Wars characters.
When Lane's not writing or reading sexy novels, she can be found in the summer on the beaches of the east coast, and in the fall watching football, cheering on the Carolina Panthers.
Connect with Lane:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/WritingfromHart
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/lanehartbooks
Website: http://www.lanehartbooks.com
Email: [email protected]
