Page 7 of Time Out

“Is that your brother?”

Lou’s laugh was boisterous, almost shaking the walls of his own bar.

Davis’s smile, on the other hand? Charming. Completely disarming with a hint of roughness to it, and that gleam in his eye was no longer embarrassed.

It was heated.

Made my toes curl in my platform heels.

It was undeniably sexy.

“I have two sisters. No brothers.” As if I hadn’t just completely offended him.

“Huh.”

He turned to Lou, requested two more beers, one for each of us, although the shots had warmed my stomach, and the beer was going straight to my head, leading to only bad decisions.

This guy played professional football. He made millions.

I was in no place to be breathing his same air, much less flirting with him… or doing anything else that impulsive itch suggested every time he smiled, and my insides fluttered.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? I mean, you’re in the presence of greatness, and I get a completely unimpressed ‘huh’?”

Oh, I was impressed. With his muscles and his smile and his hair and those teeth and lips and that straight nose… I hadn’t looked down, but given the top half of him and now knowing his profession, I had a feeling he’d be ripped and muscled everywhere. Didn’t quite care about football, but the rest of him was on a level of greatness I’d never touched before.

“I should go live on the TikTok or the Facebook with this. This is liquid gold.”

Davis flipped his coaster at Lou like it was a frisbee without peeling his eyes off me. “What would it take, then?”

“What would what take?”

He leaned closer. There were four seats in between us, but we might as well have been pressed up against each other for all the heat he was giving off.

I shivered from the heat in his gaze.

“What would it take to impress you?”

Impulsivity won.

We stumbled through the door to Davis’s condo, thirty floors in the air, a tangle of limbs entwined, and our mouths fused together.

He kicked off his shoes, I stumbled out of my heels and he laughed against my mouth as I dropped three inches lower.

“Damn, you’re short,” he muttered right before his hands that had been at my waist slid to my backside and with a quick move, I was lifted, legs wrapping around him.

“Prefer fun-sized.”

He chuckled against my lips before pressing them to the hinge of my jaw. “Well, let’s see how much fun we can have.”

“Yes,” I rasped, right as he bit down at that tender flesh of my shoulder, making the already heated storm within me burn brighter. Dear goodness, I did not have to go home with a football player on my Bingo card for the year, but I was not regretting my choices.

Yet. I’d see what tomorrow would bring.

In moments, I was clinging to him, inhaling the musky scent of his cologne or shampoo as he bent down and laid me out on his couch.

“Can’t make it to the bedroom,” Davis murmured. He leaned over me, one foot braced to the floor, one knee between my thigh and the couch, and began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt.

Like hell, I cared where I was to get to enjoy a view like this.

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