Page 47 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“Someone's excited to strip me down,” Depp volleys back. “You curious what’s under these boxers, Baby Thorne?”

With a cocky smirk, I bounce the Ping-Pong ball against the surface. It lands with a wet plop, and Depp’s eyes narrow as I meet his gaze from across the table.

“Drink up, babe,” I say, my voice syrupy sweet.

He drinks the beer, tugs at his jeans, and shoves them past his knees. “One more layer to go, and you’ll get front row seats to my dick.” He bends at the waist to pull them off his ankles and attempts to look…seductive? Too bad the guy’s this close to falling on his ass thanks to the alcohol filtering through his system.

I snort and cover my mouth as he starts wiggling his butt back and forth, turning the awkward display into some kind of warped striptease.

“Wait. Are you twerking?” I ask on a laugh. Apparently, he’s more drunk than I gave him credit for.

“All right, enough of that.” Theo shoves him in the back, and Depp tumbles onto the lawn, his jeans still wrapped around his ankles as everyone cracks up around us.

“Hey,” Depp whines, rolling on the ground.

“Depp’s out. I don’t wanna see his dick,” Theo interjects, ignoring his teammate’s half-assed protest. He lifts his chin at my date. “Burrows, you’re up.”

I step aside and give Burrows some room at the edge of the table. He rubs his thumb back and forth along the white ball in his grasp, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen.

Then, with a soft flick of his wrist, he tosses the ball onto the table, and it lands in a cup closest to Theo. The small crowd cheers, and Theo reaches for his other shoe when a brunette––who’s been watching the game and eye-fucking him all night long––cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “Take off your shirt!”

My gaze flicks up toward the dark sky, and my lips pull into a thin line as I almost choke on my scoff.

Is she serious right now?

Theo catches the movement, hesitating for barely a moment before he plants his shoe-clad foot back onto the ground. Curious, I look back at him to find his gaze on me, making my skin hotter with a simple freaking look. He sets his baseball hat onto the table, reaches for the collar of his T-shirt, and tugs it over his head. There’s a silent dare in his gaze, though I’m not sure what it means. Then again, I’m not sure I want to know. This game between us, the push and pull, has been going for so long, it’s hard to know what the terms are anymore.

But one thing’s for sure. The man’s as much of a health nut as I am. Either that, or his god-like genes have been even more blessed than I’d anticipated.

Holy crap on a cracker, Batman.

I’ve seen the guy without a shirt more times than I can count. I even got to touch those bad boys in the locker room a little while ago. But it doesn’t matter how many times I get front row seats to the Adonis in front of me. The sight never gets old.

Sunkissed skin. Tiny nipples. A small dusting of hair on his pecs. And a blonde happy-trail leading from his belly button to his jeans. Not to mention his broad shoulders and chiseled abs.

My mouth waters as they come into view. He drops the cotton material onto the ground, his gaze never leaving mine.

Hot damn.

Is it hot in here?

The brunette whistles and picks up a stray Ping-Pong ball from the grass. Then, she strides closer, taking his compliance with her suggestion as some sort of twisted approval to approach him. Her dark red lips pucker as she holds Theo’s gaze and blows on the Ping-Pong ball like it’s the head of his dick or something before she offers it to him.

“Wow,” I whisper under my breath.

Subtle, girlfriend. Really subtle.

Theo’s attention shifts to me again for a split second as if he heard me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but his eyes spark with…something as he pastes on the fakest, most arrogant smile I’ve ever seen. His chuckle is low as he winks at the girl, takes the ball from her talon hand, and lobs it toward the table without even bothering to look at his target. It bounces once in the center, then lands in a cup on our side.

“You been practicing?” Burrows jokes as he reaches for the cup, drinks its contents, then tosses it over his shoulder onto the grass. Then he turns to me and smiles, hooking his thumbs in his boxers.

I look up at the sky, ignoring the curiosity buzzing in my veins or the fact I can most definitely still feel his gaze on me, along with another pair of eyes from across the table.

“You’re out, Burrows,” Theo calls, his tone brooking no argument. “And that’s game.”

My head snaps toward him. “Excuse me? I believe I’m still playing.”

“I think we’re done here.”

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