Page 27 of Grudge Puck
So I did.
“Hell. Works for me,” I said.
My arm had slipped from her shoulder and slowly trailed down her side, inch by inch. She hadn't resisted. If anything, she'd leaned into it. When my hand reached her hip, I grabbed a handful of her flesh and pulled her closer.
Could've sworn I heard her softly sigh.
And I knew it then:I got her.
Then I felt something surprising: Camille's dainty hand, softly laid on my thigh.
I don't know if sheknewit was there, but I did. It wasn't at all like when those MeatMarket girls touched me, either. When they did it, it was almost always for a reason—to get me excited, to steal my attention from another girl.
With Camille, though, it felt different. Just different. It wasn't like she was trying to tease me or get me hard. It was more like, she was comfortable. And like I said, she might not have even known her hand was there at all.
It just was.
But it wasn't there for long. She lifted that hand and checked the time. “Jeez, it's getting late. I need to head home.”
I pawed at her, tried to pull her back into my orbit. “Nah. Don't go.”
“Sorry, but I gotta. Tomorrow's our grand opening and the last thing I need is to be all hungover for that.” She gave my cheek a pinch and then a pat. “It was fun catching up, though. Even if you're still an ass.”
I whipped out my phone. “Hey, we'll have to take a selfie. It's not often you get to catch up with old high school friends.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “We were never friends. And I thought you didn't do selfies? That's what you told that one guy earlier.”
“Yeah—because he was aguy.” I gave a smirk. “But I'll take a selfie with a hot girl any day.”
“Wow. You're too much, Beau.” She gave a shake of her head, but battled a smile. “But fine. Go ahead.”
I turned on the camera and aimed it at us. Camille nearly jumped into my lap for the photograph. She wrapped her arms around my neck and we both smiled for the picture. I snapped it.
“Lemme see it!” she said, resting her head against my shoulder.
We looked at it together.
“Hey, that's not half-bad,” she said.
Actually, we looked kinda good together. We were close. And we wore two big, genuine smiles.
“Wow, yeah. I love that picture.” I pointed at her amazing rack. “Your tits are right in my face.”
“Ugh,” she playfully groaned. She gave me a shove and started scooting away, out of the booth. “You haven't changed, Beau Bradford. Still a sleaze.”
I grinned and stared at her ass while she climbed out.
And in a way, I was content to let her go. Earlier, yeah, I'd gotten myself all worked up over the grudge-fuck idea. And, yeah, it probably would be hot as hell for the two of us to take our frustrations out on each other.
But something told me that Camille wasn't like those MeatMarket girls. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, but that's how I felt. I guess it was one thing to pump-and-dump random girls you didn't care about … but you probably shouldn't treat girls like that from your past.
Not that it ever stopped me before.
Hell, I dunno.
Camille went to pry Piper off my teammate, Jack. She'd been all up in Jack's business ever since the girls came to sit with us. Funny. Jack's a rookie this year, and just turned 21. A real good kid from a small town in Iowa. He's quiet—doesn't have a lot to say. That's normal for rookies. Young guys like him just sit and watch and learn, soaking things up like a sponge until they're more comfortable to be a voice in the room.
“Piper,” Camille said. “Piper. Piper!”
