Page 59 of The Quarterback Sneak

I swallow, trapping my lips for a second. “Can you repeat that?” I’m so lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my dick that I’m certain I imagined the words in my boner-filled haze.

“I’m tired of getting riled up from our kisses only to be let down,” she states, and I know she’s referring to her party, because I walked around with a boner for the rest of it. “So, I propose a new rule. We help get each other off.” She says it so simply that it sounds like it makes sense. Just two friends helping each other out again.

“Uhh.” I’m about to faint because of the lack of blood circulating in my head—the top one, that is.

“How about we start now?” A mischievous grin crosses her face, and her finger dips under my shirt. She toys with the button long enough that it unbuttons, then moves her hand to the next one.

“Sorry, Honey. Are you propositioning me to have sex with you in public?” I ask with a hint of amusement. There’s no way that can be the truth. She says nothing, just plants her lips on mine, and when she squeezes my ass, I get my answer.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

“Honey, you can’t be serious?” I ask as I back away from her. With my mouth agape, I watch as this beautiful girl turns shy.

Biting her bottom lip, she shrugs. “Why not?”

Dead. I must be dead. This can’t be my reality. Do I want to see what it feels like to have Honey all over me? Of course I do. But did I ever expect she’d suggest this? Nope.

She lets out an awkward breath when I back away. “I’m so tired of being what everyone wants me to be. Trying to act perfect for my parents. To look perfect for Jamie. Look where all this acting perfect got me. Embarrassed in front of the whole school with a lackluster sex life. Oh, and a fake boyfriend who’s only dating me to win a bet.”

I stay silent because of how tragically sad that sounds. Here’s this beautiful, intelligent, vivacious girl with such low self-esteem she thinks I’m only interested in hanging out with her because of a stupid bet. In reality, when I’m around her, I forget about the bet altogether. Sure, somewhere in the back of my mind are thoughts about the money and what it could do to help Ella and Tiff, but ninety-nine percent of my brain is focused solely on Honey.

“I thought you never wanted to talk about your sex life again?”

She raises her hand, a little more desperate than before. “Well, cat’s out of the bag. You already know I haven’t had an orgasm from a guy.”

I groan when she says the word orgasm, annoyed that it sounds so hot coming out of her mouth. “I want to feel something, and since you’re my fake boyfriend, I want to feel that something with you.”

Her points are logical, and as she steps toward me with purpose, I nearly give in and let her do whatever she wants. Then her hand clutches my shoulder, and clarity reaches my foggy brain. She can’t regret me.

“Babe. I’m not fucking you in the janitor’s room. We might be fake dating, but I have higher standards than dicking my girl in a closet for the first time.”

That makes her pause and search my face for any signs I might be serious. She throws her head back and sighs. It’s kind of sexy, but I stay silent because I need to hold my ground. Honey’s acting crazy, and I need to be sensible.

“But you were touching me,” she mutters, and now I’m embarrassed. Yeah, I nearly went under her dress the other day and today, but to be honest, I didn’t have a plan beyond palming her ass. Maybe a little squeeze or two, but I hadn’t thought there was much of a reality that she’d want to go further than that.

“I think if we did something, you’d regret it, and I don’t want you regretting me, Kitty Cat.”

“I can’t regret you, Z. It’s not possible.”

I want to believe her so badly because I’d do anything to touch her, but I can’t. This is not how things were supposed to go between us. I should feel guilty, but I don’t.

Honey leans against the wall and closes her eyes. “I’m not asking you to fuck me.” Damn it, those filthy, breathy words coming out of her mouth are nearly more than I can handle. “I just want to feel something,” she whispers. “Please.”

My fingers are itching to touch her. The idea of watching her fall apart makes my dick so hard I’m worried I’ll come in my pants, but I’m still unsure. Only the thin wood of the doorseparates us from our peers. “Plenty of people saw us come in here. They’ll know what we’re doing, and I’m not sure I’m okay with that.” Am I turning down guilt-free, relationship-free sex? Maybe the smell of bleach has fried a few of my brain cells.

She smiles with half-lidded eyes. “Olivia told me this morning.”

“Told you what?”

“That there’s more to the bet than just prom. That Jamie added a public sex bonus.” The words spill out of her mouth calmly, which frightens the living shit out of me. Something else has to be coming. “Surprised it took Brett and Jamie so long to think of something like that to add.”

“You aren’t angry?”

“Not at you. You hadn’t mentioned it, and you’re pretty much declining my offer now, so you can’t be that desperate for cash. Brett and Jamie aren’t exactly God’s gift to feminism. They both like pussy, money, and posturing more than anything else.”

She thinks I’m decliningbecause I’m not interested in her. Wait, am I interested in her? I guess that’s not really the question that needs to be answered. The question is ifshe’sinterested.

“How much do you get?”

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