Easy Ride (South Florida Riders Book 3)

by Breezie Bennett

  I shut my eyes and sip the hot coffee, leaning against the counter and quieting the schoolgirl in my mind who thinks Chase Quarterback Kennedy might be into me.

  “It’s Chase, for Christ sake,” I mumble.

  “Are you okay, Whitney?” Sky, the cheery-eyed new nursing assistant, gives me a concerned look.

  “Oh!” I swallow a slurp of coffee and wave my hand in the air. “I’m totally fine. Just trying to briefly escape food-poisoning lady in room twelve.”

  Sky snorts and flips her shiny blond ponytail. “Yeah, she’s not having the best time. I can head in and check on her, if you want.”

  I laugh sympathetically. “The joys of nursing. Thanks, Sky.”

  She gives me a sweet smile and slips out the door, leaving me alone in the break room. I puff out a deep sigh and slump into a worn-out plush chair next to the window.

  The sun is beating down on Florida as hard as ever, but something about today seems extra bright. The sky is like an endless blue blanket, and the greenery seems to decorate the entire landscape.

  Suddenly, I feel my phone vibrating with an incoming call, and I curse the little flip my heart does when I think it might be Chase.

  It’s a number I don’t recognize. Probably some scam or sales call. Still, I hate being rude to salespeople, so I answer.

  “Is this Whitney Cooper?” The deep male voice on the other end of the line is vaguely familiar.

  “Yes,” I say slowly.

  “It’s Peter. Peter Chapman, from the party.”

  Oh my God.

  Nerves jolt through me, and I hop up out of the chair, pacing around the break room like an anxious twelve-year-old. “Peter, hey! It’s so great to hear from you. I didn’t expect you to call until you got back from London.”

  “I know.” He chuckles softly. “But I ended up getting talked into an international cellular data plan by my company, and I figured, you know, why wait?”

  Maybe because I can’t really think about you at the moment since I have tentative plans to go to “third down” with my NFL star best friend tonight.

  “Yeah, totally!” Jesus. I sound like my cousin. I clear my throat. “How’s London been?”

  “Oh, you know. Meetings and spreadsheets and a constant stream of emails and phone calls about which I have little to no interest. The office here is nice, though. Right in the city. Have you ever been?”

  “Oh, no.” I pick at a chip in the paint on the wall. “I’ve never been out of the country. I wanted to study abroad, but they only offered nursing classes in Europe during the fall semester.”

  “So, why didn’t you go during the fall semester?”

  I stifle a surprised laugh. “Because that’s football season. I was a Florida Gator, you may remember.”

  “I can’t relate, sadly. People at Colgate could take football or leave it. But wow.” He draws out the word. “Quite the loyal fan. I didn’t take you as a sports guru, but I can dig it.”

  “I wouldn’t say guru. It’s just kind of the culture there. Plus, my best friend was the quarterback of the team, so it was a whole thing.”

  Peter makes a sort of choking sound. “Wait, what?”

  I laugh nervously. “Chase Kennedy? He plays for the Riders now, so I see him all the time.”

  My mind flashes and races and jumps around. Kiss. Wall. Hot tub. Kiss.

  I hold the windowsill and steady myself.

  “Yeah, uh, I know who Chase Kennedy is. He’s one of the best QB’s in pro football.” His tone sounds a bit concerned. “You didn’t mention that at the party the other night.” He forces something that sounds like a laugh.

  Suddenly, I feel horribly awkward. Is there a reason I didn’t bring Chase up when I met Peter? No. Why would there be?

  “Oh.” I flick my hand dismissively, even though he can’t see me. “It’s really not a big deal. We’ve been friends since we were literally in diapers. He’s just Chase. Kind of a pain in my ass, honestly.”

  The tension over the phone seems to ease, although my gut is still tight. Why does it feel like I’m lying? Chase and I are just friends. That hasn’t changed and never will.

  Regardless of our plans for later.

  “Huh. Well, you do seem to get more fascinating every minute of a conversation, don’t you, Whitney?”

  “That’s what they tell me,” I say jokingly. “So, are you doing any traveling while you’re there? Or mostly staying in London?” I divert.

  Peter muses about weekend trips to Prague and Venice, and I half listen while I adamantly remind myself that he is the reason I have this whole crazy agreement with Chase in the first place. I want Peter. I want to impress him and wow him and hopefully find forever with him.

  With Peter, that is.

  “That sounds incredible. I’m cooped up in the hospital for another several hours, but after that I’ll be…” Finding out what third down consists of. “Going for a run or something, probably. Nothing like traipsing around Europe, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m honestly just ready for this trip to end. I’m really looking forward to our date.” His voice is so steady and certain, with just the right hint of sweetness.

  “Me, too!” I blurt a little too excitedly.

  “Well, I’d better go. Heading into a meeting in five. It was wonderful to talk to you, Whitney Cooper.”

  “Yeah, same here. Have a good meeting,” I say with a laugh, not really sure what you’re supposed to say to someone before they do something that isn’t emergency surgery or a football game.

  I set the phone down on a table and slouch back into the soft chair.

  I have to shake off all this weirdness about Chase. It’s natural for things to get a little messy when you bring physical intimacy into a twenty-eight-year-old friendship. It gets even messier when that friend is an actual god of sex.

  I have to keep it physical. No more butterflies, no more kisses—unless they’re part of the plan.

  I know it’s nothing but a little fun for Chase. He likes teaching me, and I need to learn. And that’s all there is to it.

  Nineteen

  Chase

  I take a long, deep breath and lean against the railing of my balcony, watching the last bit of sunlight disappear behind the Miami Beach skyline. The air is sticky and humid, and it settles like a warm blanket on my skin. I roll out my shoulder, noticing that the pain is starting to go away, or maybe I’m just distracted.

  I feel my phone in my pocket vibrate with a text.

  Nit Whit Cooper: On my way, Six. Leave the door unlocked.

  I bite my lip and slump down onto the huge patio couch. I narrow my eyes and stare at the text for way too long.

  The kiss in the stadium was just a moment. It was a one-time thing. The product of a shitty game and seeing my favorite person.

  But I’ve never wanted to kiss Whitney before…unless…did I? I don’t even fucking know anymore. All I know is I can’t be in this weird-ass mood thinking about feelings when I’m supposed to teach her how to suck my dick.

  I get a little hard at the thought and pick up my phone to text her back with just one word.

  Balcony.

  Staying out of the bedroom will keep things chill and purely physical and avoid any accidental kissing or, God forbid, cuddling.

  I prop my feet on the coffee table in front of me and laugh to myself about the insanity of this whole situation. And about how hyped sixteen-year-old Chase would be if he knew one day he’d be sitting on his penthouse balcony waiting for Whitney Cooper to come over and give him head.

  Shit, he’d be hyped just to know Whitney is still his best friend. I’m so fucking glad she’s my best friend, and I’m beyond determined not to let this arrangement fuck it up.

  “Look at you, so pensive.” Whit’s voice hits me like sweet, sexy music as she walks through the sliding doors and joins me on the sofa outside. “What’s going through that deep, dark, terrifyingly dirty mind of yours?” She ruffles my hair playfully.

&nbs
p; She’s wearing tiny black shorts and an oversize Gators Football T-shirt that was probably mine at some point. She tucks her legs up underneath her, and I admire their perfectly toned and slender shape.

  I think about touching them. Grabbing them. Having them wrapped around me.

  “You know, the usual,” I say.

  “Football and sex?” she says with a laugh.

  “Am I that simple?” I turn to her with a half smile.

  “You’re just…Six. You’re who you’ve always been.” She smiles brightly, and something in her expression is so comforting and familiar. It’s the way Whitney’s always looked at me. Like she knows me inside and out. Like she can predict everything I think and feel and do.

  It’s not how she was looking at me at the stadium yesterday.

  I decide quickly that she’s clearly forgotten about that, or at least pushed it away, and I do the same.

  “So…” I run my tongue across my bottom lip and angle my head down, giving her my token suggestive look. “Third down.”

  “Let me guess.” She leans close to me and points a finger to her deliciously hot mouth. “It involves this.”

  “Wow.” I wink and run my thumb along her lips. “Someone’s been doing her homework.”

  She narrows her eyes, making them spark in the moonlight. “You didn’t give me any homework.”

  “I didn’t have to.”

  She smiles and looks out at the view, something that looks like hesitation flashing across her face. “I gotta be honest, Six. This one kinda scares me.”

  I instinctively push a strand of her silky hair behind her ear. “Understandable. I mean, we are dealing with—”

  She holds up a hand and makes a face of disgust. “If your dick has a name, I do not want to know it.”

  I frown and stifle a laugh. “Okay, but seriously, what’s the big deal with oral? I know you’re not some kind of germ freak, considering I was the one who flipped shit when you wanted to play with a bowl of raw eggs in third grade. I mean, Whitney. Ew.”

  She snorts at the memory. “I’m an ER nurse, Chase. The human body doesn’t intimidate me.”

  “Neither does salmonella, apparently,” I add.

  “It’s just…Troy and I never really…” She makes a vague gesture that I assume means she barely ever went down on her boyfriend of six years.

  I laugh and draw back in shock. “Define ‘never really.’”

  “Like, twice.” She swallows and looks down, toying with a thread on the T-shirt. “Maybe three times. He said it wasn’t his thing.”

  “Blow jobs? They’re not his thing?”

  She purses her lips and nods slowly.

  I feel my jaw drop and shake my head. “Well…” I slide my hand around the back of her neck and turn her head so she’s facing me, looking right into my eyes. “They’re my thing.”

  Her eyes widen with that same eager curiosity I saw in the hot tub. An expression that can get my cock completely fired up in less than thirty seconds. “Show me, Six,” she whispers.

  Those soft, pink, needy lips don’t have to tell me twice.

  I kiss her hard, knowing full well this kiss is driven by sex and desire and the ache of physical attraction.

  She kisses me back, perfectly matching my dirty, sexy energy.

  I slide my tongue into her mouth as my hands pull her body onto my lap, and I can already feel heat and blood racing to my dick.

  I slip my hands under her shirt and cup both her breasts, feeling her rock and arch against me. I yank the shirt off of her and kiss down her neck and chest.

  She leans back and breathes rapidly, letting the moon bathe her in a soft white glow. Her chest rises and falls in my hands, and I draw in a sharp sigh as she gently strokes my hard-on.

  My abs are tight, and everything feels hot and achy.

  “Should I—” she whispers.

  “Yes.”

  She slides off my lap and kneels on the floor of the balcony, looking up at me with parted, swollen lips. Lips that should have been around my cock a long-ass time ago.

  “Here,” I say softly, reaching for a pillow from the couch and tossing it down. “For your knees.”

  She scoots her legs onto it and laughs. “I never took you for such a gentleman, Six.”

  I shrug and run my hand through her hair, holding her delicate, freckled cheek. “See? I can still surprise you, Nit Whit.”

  She pulls lightly at the waistband of my sweatpants, staring up at me with those damn eyes. “Should I…”

  “Yes.” I smile at how adorable she is. I’ve never thought of a chick who’s on her knees about to blow me as adorable before, but somehow it fits with her.

  She pulls my pants and boxers off, and sparks jolt through me at the feeling of her touch on my skin.

  She draws back at the sight of my raging erection. “Jesus, Six.”

  I laugh softly and run my fingers through her hair.

  She tilts her head and closely examines my cock. “I mean…really?”

  “Complimenting your teacher isn’t going to get you an A, you know.” I shoot her a wink, eyeing the burning space between her lips and my dick and wishing it would disappear.

  She smiles and rolls her eyes, leaning forward a tiny bit, moving her hands up my legs just slowly enough to send heat waves all the way down to my toes. “Where do I start?” She grazes the length of me with her fingertips, so light and gentle and teasing.

  I jerk forward and feel my heart rate pick up. “You’re a smart girl. Take a guess.”

  A smile pulls across her face, dirty and curious and hot as hell. She dips her chin down and softly runs her tongue along the tip of my dick, moving her hand up to grab the base of it.

  I’m completely hard and hot and so fucking desperately turned on, but I know we need to take this one slow. We can take all damn night if she wants to. I just like watching her.

  “There you go,” I whisper, my voice sounding raspy and breathless.

  I hold her head and lightly guide her as she slides her mouth around my dick and moves it down.

  Her eyes spark with heat and fire and lust, and my whole body rocks and aches and responds to every tiny move she makes.

  “Is that good?” she says quietly with that dirty-shy thing playing in her expression.

  “Yeah.” I choke a laugh, barely able to see straight with how turned on I am and how much I don’t want her to stop. “It’s fucking good.”

  She pulls away, and I gently guide her head back to my dick. “Rule number one: Don’t stop doing that,” I whisper.

  Her eyes brighten, and I watch as a new kind of sexy confidence comes over her. It’s a side of Whitney I’ve never seen before, and that in itself is a fucking crime.

  She’s having fun with it now, licking my shaft and tip, gliding her tongue and lips over every inch.

  Blood and heat and an unbelievable tension surge in my cock, which just gets harder and bigger with every stroke of her mouth.

  My abs are tight, and hot chills race down my spine as I lean forward into her.

  “You don’t…” I grip her hair with one hand and squeeze the couch cushion with the other, feeling my heart beating hard as fuck. “Need much help.”

  She slides her mouth up my dick and playfully licks the tip. “You’re so hot, Six.” Her words are breathless and desperate, consumed by desire and the fireworks of passion.

  I never knew how badly I wanted to see her like this. To feel her like this. To hear her say those words and watch those enormous brown eyes glint in the moonlight and stare up at me with sinful lust.

  I draw in a sharp breath as she pulls back and gives me a dirty smile, stroking my erection with her hand, holding it against the swell of her breasts.

  The lights of the skyline are scattered in the distance, and the sticky fall air presses on me as my body gets hotter and tighter and needier every second.

  “Any notes, Teacher?” She winks at me, obviously feeling how close I am and teasing me.
r />   I don’t mind a bit. I bite my lip and hold her chin, angling her face up to look at me. “You like this, don’t you?”

  She runs her lips along the length of my shaft, sending more waves of electricity through my body. “Shut up.”

  Her eyes say it all. She isn’t the only one who can read her best friend like a fucking book. Whitney Cooper is awakening her most wild sexuality, right on this balcony, with her lips around my cock.

  Heat and need continue to build as she sucks and licks and enjoys every second of it. I can feel my balls squeezing and my dick pulsing in her mouth.

  Whitney knows I’m about to come and looks at me with wide, sparkly eyes.

  Pleasure hits me like a fucking tsunami, crashing over my body as I release over and over again. My heart bangs in my chest, and a husky moan escapes from my throat.

  Whitney draws back, a sexy smile on her face as she wipes her lip with her thumb.

  I decide I’ve never seen anything hotter in my life.

  Whit rests her chin on my leg, leaning into me and gazing at me with a look of pure satisfaction. “Third down.” She grins.

  “You’re going straight to the Pro Bowl, Nit Whit. Now, your turn.” I wink and playfully touch her mouth. “You wanna go into the bedroom? It might be easier for—”

  She laughs and stands up, curling onto the couch next to me and looking out over the expansive view. “Six, I needed you to teach me how to do that. I think I’m okay on the receiving part.”

  Her expression flashes with hesitation and conflict, almost like me returning the favor of third down would make her feel something she’s not ready for. Something she’s scared of.

  I remind myself of her boundaries and take a deep breath, pulling my sweatpants back on. I look at Whitney, shaking my head. “The fact that you’ve been hiding these world-class blow-job skills is actually a crime against humanity.”

  She chuckles. “Honestly, I didn’t know I could do it like…that. I don’t know what came over me. Must have been your magical quarterback spell.”

  “That’s never even fazed you before.” I narrow my eyes and meet her gaze, realizing how desperately I want to kiss her. I think, for a second, she wants me to. Something burns between us, some strange mixture of sex and friendship, of passion and comfort.