Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Sure.
Instead, I’d yanked off my own T-shirt before forcing her to pull it on. Even though it’s a couple sizes too big and swallows her up, I like the way she looks in it. The thought that a piece of my clothing is wrapped around her body does things to me.
“Oh?” I say, half distracted as my attention wanders back to Brooke. And the guy who is now talking to her.
What the fuck?
Shandi slinks closer, attempting to regain my distracted attention. “I was thinking we could get out of here. Maybe head back to your place for a while.”
My brows snap together as the guy inches closer before picking up a thick lock of her hair and twirling it around his finger.
I know exactly what kind of dirty thoughts are running amok in this asshole’s head, and it’s not going to happen. I’ll make damned sure of it.
“Crosby?”
My gaze snaps back to the blonde who is staring up at me. If my main objective is to get naked and enjoy myself for a couple of mindless hours of pleasure, this girl is here for it.
“What?”
Irritation flickers across her pretty features. “Do want to get out of here?”
“Nah. Not right now.”
She blinks before frowning. “Really?” Disbelief weaves its way through her voice.
I shake my head as my attention slides back to Brooke and the douchebag attempting to make moves on her. Even in an oversized T-shirt, she still attracts male interest.
For a handful of seconds, we both remain quiet. Shandi seems knocked off kilter by the sudden turn of events. This is the first time I’ve turned her down. As far as fucks go, this girl is perfect. She understands that an hour or so of fooling around between the sheets doesn’t equate to a relationship. She also realizes that I’m going to screw other girls and she’s free to do the same. What I’ve discovered is that Shandi enjoys a little girl on girl action and is no stranger to threesomes.
So yeah…
No red-blooded guy in his right mind would turn her down.
There are a lot of chicks who swear up and down that they’re cool with one-night stands, but very few actually feel that way. I’ve been burned a couple times. So, I’m careful about who I jump into bed with, which is exactly why the groupies who hang out at the football houses are my first choice. It’s kind of hard to claim you thought it was the start of something beautiful when you’ve spread your legs for half the team and counting.
If I were smart, I’d take the nubile blonde up on her offer. A hard come just might help clear Brooke from my head. She’s the last person I need to be focused on. But…there’s no point in screwing one girl when I can’t stop thinking about a different one. I’ve attempted that feat before, and it doesn’t work. I’m usually left with a vague sense of dissatisfaction and regret. I’m better off going home and jerking off to thoughts of her.
How fucking pathetic is that?
I clear my throat and shift my weight. “Sorry. I’m not in the mood.” Which is also a first for me.
She rears back as if I’ve bitch-slapped her into next week. “Are you being serious?”
“Yeah.” Unfortunately.
“All right.” Her hands fall away as she retreats a step. “If you change your mind, come find me.”
“Will do.”
As soon as she spins on her heel, I take off toward Brooke and the jackass who seems to think he’ll be getting into her pants tonight. Like a man on a mission, I plow my way across the room until someone steps in front of me, blocking my path. My irritated gaze snaps to his.
Andrew.
Fuck. How the hell did I forget about him?
“Hey,” he says, looking a little bleary-eyed.
When I give him a chin lift, he frowns before glancing over his shoulder toward his ex-girlfriend.
“Why is Brooke wearing your shirt?” His words are all slurred together, which is par for the course on a Saturday night. He works hard on the field and likes to play even harder off it. He’s certainly not the only one of my teammates with that mentality.
“She spilled a drink down the front of her sweater, so I gave her mine to wear. It’s not a big deal,” I tack on, hoping we can drop the conversation.
He searches my eyes, holding my gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time before saying, “You know that she’ll always be my girl, right?”
My shoulders slump.
“Yup.” Mostly because he never allows me to forget it.
He stumbles a few paces before bringing the glass to his lips and sucking down half of it. Belching, he drags the back of his hand across his mouth. “You think I should talk to her again?”
In this condition?
“That’s probably not a good idea.”