Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Tilting her head back, she peers up at me. “I’ll be here.”
I want to kiss her. It would take nothing, no effort on my part to just lean down a little and press my lips to hers. I desperately want to know if they are as soft as they look. I want to know what she tastes like.
“Have a good practice.”
Not able to resist, I lean in and press my lips to the corner of her mouth. When my lips connect with her skin, she sucks in a breath. My lips barely grazed hers, but it was enough for both of us to know we need more. Want more. “I’ll see you soon,” I say, standing to my full height and releasing her. My cock throbs and I know that I fucked up. Thankfully, I have my gym bag that I can hold in front of me, and Caleb will be in the driver’s seat of his car and not in the passenger seat of mine. He’s always been one who preferred to drive over riding.
It takes extreme effort to walk away from her, but I manage to put one foot in front of the other and make my way to the garage. Sure enough, Caleb is sitting behind the wheel of his Audi, and I expel a sigh of relief as I climb in the passenger seat.
“I thought I was driving?” I ask.
“Can’t help it. I love this car, man. I should have bought one years ago.”
“You’ve had it what, six months now? The new hasn’t worn off?”
“Hell no.” He laughs. “This is the only woman I need in my life,” he says, backing out of the driveway.
A few days ago, I would have agreed with him. Now, I don’t think that I can. If he only knew his little sister was tilting my world upside down. I don’t know how he would feel, but something tells me I’m going to find out sooner rather than later. Joey is like this magnet, and I can’t escape her force. Hell, it’s not that I can’t. It’s that I don’t want to. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want her. I glance over at Caleb, aware that this thing with his sister could break us. I don’t want to lose him, but I’ve never felt like this. I owe it to myself and to Joey to see what this is.
We can keep it between us for now. Explore what might be happening, and then bring Caleb in. I just hope he doesn’t hate me after.
CHAPTER
SIX
Joey
New Ramblers Tight End Woos Model in Fiji
I stare at the headline posted fifteen minutes ago online, and instantly regret setting up that alert with Brock’s name. It was a stupid, juvenile mistake, but I did it in a moment of pure weakness around five this morning when my brain was reeling from lack of sleep and naughty fantasies with the man himself starring in the lead role.
I scan the article, trying to clear the image of Brock and Gisele Sorenson making out on the sandy tropical beach. A friend close to the “couple” is quoted as saying they really hit it off at the wedding of his former teammate and have maintained a long-distance relationship and plan to “meet up again soon.”
Well, fuck me running.
The article goes on to say how they met at the beachside nuptials and were inseparable the rest of the trip, spotted enjoying private candlelight dinners, and even sneaking out of each other’s seaside suites early in the morning with clothes wrinkled and askew.
Okay. Time to stop reading.
My deceitful eyes go right up to the accompanying photo. There’s only one, thankfully, but it’s a close-ranged shot, as if the photographer was standing not too far away on the beach. Perhaps from one of those fancy lounge chairs underneath an umbrella. He probably has one of those fruity drinks too with fruit slices and names that contain Caribbean or paradise.
I think back over the last few days, at the looks and the flirting, at the things he said and the way he responded. And by that, I mean getting hard.
All this time, he’s been seeing someone?
Sure, Gisele and Brock could have a relationship, even though I haven’t seen any signs that lead me to think he has someone he’s casually seeing. You know the kind. Hooking up whenever you’re in the same city, maybe a few late-night video sessions that end in orgasmic bliss. I’ve heard all the rumors about him, seen all the headlines. Brock Williams isn’t a “relationship” kind of man. He’s a “right here, right now, leave you smiling” kind.
This is exactly why I should keep my distance. No casual relationships for me. Even if the man in question is a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound solid piece of sex on a stick. Like a walking wet dream, only better. He looks positively edible in the photo, all tanned and toned in his black and green swim trunks.