Page 74 of Heart of Thorns

“Yeah, but your perfect spiral landed in what’s-his-face’s hands, he scored a touchdown, and we won the game.” My best friend smirks. “So what if you got a little knocked around?”

“I—”

“He’s probably trying to say, you got the job done even though it seemed impossible,” Briar interrupts. “Just like now. I’m your, uh, receiver. Just throw me the ball, baby.”

I groan through my teeth.

We’ve got an hour until Rhys and I need to be at the stadium, and then I have to play while Briar is left unattended in the presence of my parents… andthenwe’re going out to dinner.

So, basically, fuck my life.

Not to mention I haven’t been able to scrub the thought of fuckingherout of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face as she came. And every time I lick my lips, I swear I taste her arousal.

“Rhys, get out.”

I focus on Briar, who stares down my best friend with her arm lifted, finger pointing to my door.

He blinks at her, then slowly nods. He closes the door behind him, and then it’s just us.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times,” she says, pushing up from the bed and coming closer. “We’ve got this. I’m wearing the fancy shit we bought, you know what my parents fake do for a living, and I’ll survive them without you.”

Yeah, right.

“I probably won’t even see them until after the game,” she says. “Lydia and Marley are going to sit with me.”

“Oh. Good. But if you see two people in expensive outfits looking like they don’t really belong?—”

“I’ll say, ‘Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne,’” she finishes with a wicked smile. She steps into the bathroom with me, using one finger on my chest to back me up. “Now, Cassius Remington Thorne the Third… you seem a little stressed. I think I can help.”

Her fingers trail down my dress shirt and hook on the waistband of my slacks. Her eyebrow rises, and I slowly nod.

This is not part of the plan.

But I’m sure as fuck not going to stop her.

She unbuttons my pants with deft fingers and drags the fabric—and my briefs—down my thighs. As it goes, she lowers herself.

“Your knee?—”

“Is fine,” she murmurs. “For this? It’s fine, Cassius.”

I open my mouth to protest her using my first name so much, but then she wraps those fingers around my cock—which is quickly waking up—and my brain stops working.

She can call me whatever she wants.

Thorne. Cassius.Baby.

“Briar—”

“Just lean on the counter and enjoy it.” She meets my gaze and winks. She strokes me to full hardness. Her tongue pokes out between her red painted lips. “Mmm, hello, friend. Long time no see.”

“It’s only been?—”

“Shh,” she interrupts. “I’m getting reacquainted to the one that made me see stars the other day.”

I huff out a laugh, but she keeps stroking, twisting her wrist and squeezing around the tip like a damn expert. When she leans forward and takes me in her mouth, I just barely stop my hips from jacking forward and pushing deeper.

I grip the counter to keep from threading my hands through her hair.

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