Page 58 of Behind the Net

“For what?” My tone is flat with tension.

She gestures around the party, and then between her and me. “For this. For letting me sit in your lap. For going along with this whole charade.”

Lettingher sit in my lap? I actually feel like laughing. Pippa’s ass pressed into me is the most erotic thing I’ve experienced in years, and I’ll be jerking off thinking about it for weeks. Also, the poisonous look Zach gave me the moment Pippa wasn’t looking made the whole night worth it.

Whether she realizes it or not, Pippa doesn’t need him anymore. Zach realizes it, though. A burst of smug male satisfaction hits me in the chest as I lock eyes with Zach across the party. He pauses mid-conversation before resuming, and I know I’m right.

Fucking asshole. The urge to protect Pippa expands tenfold.

She squeezes my knee, and sparks shoot up my leg, straight to my cock. This is sweet torture, having her in my lap like this. The only reason I’m not moving her off to give my dick a break is because I’ll never get this chance again.

I glance between her eyes and her mouth. “Promise me you’ll never sleep with Zach again.”

She chokes. “What?”

“Do it,” I demand. I sound like an asshole, and I don’t care. “Promise me, Pippa.”

She shakes her head, laughing. “I promise. Oh my god. After what happened? I’m not that stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all.”

“Well.” She shrugs, giving me a lopsided, self-deprecating grin. “I did stay with the guy for way too long,” she says in a low voice, leaning in. Her breath tickles my ear. “And he was terrible in bed.”

“Really.” My nostrils flare as I picture them together—him on top of her. No, he’d probably make her go on top each time because he’s a lazy fuck.

I fuckinghatethat image.

“Ow,” she says, shifting on my lap.

My fingers dig into her hips, and I loosen my grip immediately. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She gives me a small smile.

“Why was he bad in bed?” The question falls out of my mouth before I can stop it. I can’t help it. I need to know.

She gives me a look. “I’m not telling you details.”

“I put on a suit for this.”

“You put on a suit multiple times a week for games,” she argues back, smiling, and my chest feels pressurized like a pop can.

I love that she isn’t afraid of me, and that she likes to argue back.

The side of my mouth tugs up. “It’s past my bedtime.”

She chuckles. “Fine. Okay.” Her gaze slides to Zach before coming back to mine. “He would do this thing with his hand,” she whispers to me, and I lean in, even though I can hear her just fine. She flattens her fingers and then shifts them back and forth fast, like she’s a DJ, and she’s baring her teeth.

A rusty laugh scrapes off my chest. “What is that supposed to be?”

She laughs, and when her sparkling eyes meet mine, my pulse trips. “That’s Zach rubbing my clit.”

My stomach churns. I don’t like her using his name in the same sentence asmy clit.

“It always felt rushed, and I’d worry I was taking too long and then I—” She shrugs with a wince. “I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere.”

With us, it wouldn’t be rushed. I’d take my time. I’d take all fucking night. When the sun rose, she’d still be coming, exhausted from countless orgasms in every conceivable position.

“The whole thing felt like a chore near the end.” Her gaze flicks to mine. “Sorry. Too much information.”

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