Page 98 of Hot Streak

“Welcome to the Strike Zone. Can I buy you a drink?” Connor asked, spreading his arms and using the special grin he saved especially for these occasions.

Sure, it had never worked on Jackson. In fact, he’d specifically said it didn’t work on him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t effective.

And sure, he had no intention of going home with any of these girls, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy them a few rounds and flirt and occupy his time before Jackson got his head out of his ass and realized what he was missing out on.

Chapter 16

“You need to handle that situation?” Deke asked, leaning back in his chair, gesturing over to where Connor was holding court at a table of four young women, all with stars in their eyes, their casual touches on his arms and shoulders making it obvious what they hoped might happen for one of them at the end of the night.

“No,” Jackson said.

“You sure about that?” Deke asked, chuckling, rising to his feet.

Jackson watched as he headed towards the bathroom and told himself that he wasn’t that transparent, but maybe he was.

At first, he’d been resigned, assuming that when Connor had walked over to those women, he’d made his choice for the evening.

After all—they’d never promised each other exclusivity.

Maybe it had felt that way, but he, and certainly Connor, had never used those words.

But then, with every glance Connor shot over towards Jackson’s table, it had become clear, over the next hour, why exactly Connor was over there, flirting up a storm.

He was trying to provoke Jackson.

Trying to make him jealous.

It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was. Jackson certainly hadn’t needed any additional motivation to take Connor home at the end of the night and take him apart, but his behavior further solidified his plans.

Why had he said yes to Deke’s offer of a drink at the Strike Zone?

The truth made him squirm in his chair.

He’d been afraid. He’d wanted Connor so badly, felt the need of him rising so sharp and fast inside him, so undeniable, it had terrified the hell out of him.

He’s not for you. Not to keep.

But he wanted to.

One night and one morning together—only three orgasms—and he was already thinking of Connor as his.

And that was not going to work.

“I decided,” Deke said, and Jackson looked up as he settled back in his chair.

“You decided what?”

“That you got it bad.”

“Why? Because I’m sitting over here, sulking that Connor’s flirting with anyone with a pulse?” Jackson didn’t need to say he couldn’t go over and make it clear who Connor belonged with.

Not just because he wouldn’t out Connor that way, but also because Connor didn’t belong to him. Or with him. No matter how much he wished otherwise.

“No,” Deke said, grinning.

“You gonna enlighten me?”

“Because you’re making him work for it. And he’s got it bad, too, because he didn’t even hesitate to do it.”

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