A one-night kind of thing.
The guys don’t even have to know.
I can keep it a secret.
We can pretend this is Vegas, right? What happens here stays here?
Layken drags her hands down my chest, her beautiful brown eyes hungrily staring up at me.
“I’ve never had a husband before.”
Grinning back at her, I tug on the front of her dress, right at her abdomen, pulling her closer to me so I can slide my hands across her bare back and feel her skin.
She has nice skin.
Smooth.
Warm.
Creamy.
“I’ve never had a wife before,” I tell her. “Also, I like your skin.”
She giggles. The shape of her mouth when she smiles makes me happy. “You like my skin?”
“Mhmm.”
“I think I’d like your skin too. Do I get to see it?”
I lean down and brush my lips against hers and then grab her ass, my fingers playing just at the hem of her short sparkly dress. “You’re my wife now so you get to see whatever you want to see.”
Because alcohol equals zero inhibitions.
As if I had inhibitions in the first place.
“Good. Because I want to see every last inch of this sexy hockey body.”
“That’s right. I play hockey. I make money playing hockey. A shit ton of it too.”
Her eyes grow wide and her pupils darken. “I like a sexy guy with a shit ton of money. Can he fuck too?”
Can I fuck?
I chuckle to myself.
Sweetheart doesn’t know who she’s talking to.
“Honey, I can fuck better than anyone you’ve ever been with.” I thrust my pelvis against her body. “Are you ready for me to blow your mind?”
Somewhere in the recesses of my brain I’m asking myself what in the ever-loving hell I’m saying out of my mouth hole, but the other part of my brain…the part where I have zero control thanks to all the alcohol flowing through my veins right now, thinks I’m the sexiest, Rico Suave man this world has ever known.
Bet with the guys be damned.
Layken Hobbs is worth every bet I’ll ever lose.
Her smile widens and she licks her lips. Her hands slide down to my belt, which she somehow manages to pull apart, and then she unzips my pants and lowers herself to her knees.
Hell, yeah baby.