Page 78 of Pucking Wild

“Five more minutes,” Patrick calls without turning around. “I’m kicking Jonesy’s ass on Mount Wario—hey—”

As he spoke, Ryan snatched up the remote, turning off the TV. He rattles it down, giving them all a death glare. “You assholes have ten minutes to get this place looking spotless, and then you’re leaving. And if my girl finds even one Cheerio on the carpet later, I’ll be dragging you all over here to vacuum every inch of the floor with your mouths. Got it? Good. Get up and get out.”

The guys grumble, but they immediately start cleaning up.

I glance over at Ryan, not bothering to hide my smile. I love myself a cinnamon roll boy, but life is all about the sweetandthe spice. Something gives me the feeling that Ryan thrives on control. One could even go so far as to call him bossy. I’m taking that little nugget of knowledge and storing it away on the shelf for later…right next to the memory of him calling me his girl.

30

“Whoa,” I say, eyes wide, breath caught in my throat. “Tess, you look…”

She walks past the kitchen table over to where I’m standing by the couch, the full skirt of her dress swishing with each step. “Ravishing? Divine? Clean?” she adds with a teasing smile.

“All three,” I say with a stunned shake of my head. I keep the words I was actually thinking to myself.

Gorgeous. Fuckable. Goddamn desirable.

As soon as the guys started cleaning up the place, Tess disappeared into her room. That was over an hour ago. Now, the place is spotless, and she’s standing in front of me with her red curls tumbling around her face. She’s rocking a smoky eye and red lipstick that makes the freckles on her cheeks pop.

But I can barely pay attention to her beautiful face because she’s wearing the flounciest, girliest bubblegum pink dress with puff sleeves and a plunging “V” cut that perfectly shows off her breasts. As she steps closer, I see that the dress is covered in little pairs of bright red cherries.

Fuck me dead.

I don’t even bother suppressing my hungry groan. This woman is going to be the death of me.

“You look great, too, Ryan,” she says, taking me in.

She never said what this date entailed, so I’m just dressed in a pair of jeans, a white button up, and a half-zip sweater. I’ve got a more functional knee brace on under the jeans and Doc told me to start bearing weight, so I’m going without the crutches tonight.

She fumbles with the little clutch in her hands, pulling out a few cards and a lipstick from her other wallet and tucking them safely inside.

“So, what’s the plan?” I say, slipping my hands in my pockets.

“Hmm?” She keeps her eyes down, still rifling through her purse. “Oh, I have some ideas.” She glances up, flashing me another smile with those red-painted lips.

Okay, fuck her plans. I want to stay here. If I’m only getting this one night and this one date, I want to sit on the couch with her on my lap in that dress. I want to feel the way the soft tulle bunches in my hands as I pull it up, reaching under it to graze my fingers up her bare thigh, seeking out that heat between her legs—

“Is this the new contract?”

I blink, pulling my attention away from Tess’s ass and back to her face. She’s standing at the bar now, glancing over her shoulder at me, a packet of papers in hand. I refocus on the papers. “Oh…yeah, that’s it.”

She sets her clutch down on the bar and starts flipping through the first few pages. “Wow, I’ve never seen a professional sports contract before. This all seems pretty complicated. Have you taken a look at it yet?”

I shift uncomfortably. “Well, I have an agent to help with all the contract stuff, so…”

She turns back to the contract. “Agents are great, but it’s always good to read a contract for yourself just so you know all the particulars—”

“Hey, Lawyer Tess?” I tease, reaching over her to splay my hand across the page she’s reading. Our fingertips brush, and I feel her go still next to me. Fuck, standing this close to her I can smell her perfume. It mingles with the smell of her coconutty hair oil to make a fruity, floral bouquet. It’s like she’s a damn walking tropical paradise. My very own Sex on the Beach.

“Hmm?” She turns slightly to glance up at me.

I push on the contract and she lets me lower it to the bar. “I was promised a date with Tess Owens. I’d prefer we not spend it pouring over contracts.”

She purses those red lips at me. “Some might consider it foreplay.”

“What, are you gonna read aloud my bonus payout schedule line by line so we can both get hard over how much money will be pouring into my account?”

“Mhmm,” she says, the sound a hum in her throat. “A quarter million upon signing. Five hundred thousand will transfer on March first…”

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