Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens
Eighteen
Wolfe
Why does she have to taste so damn good? I part her lips with my tongue and she wraps her arms around my neck. We begin to kiss and her body presses against mine, and that ache I was feeling on the drive back from Boston intensifies a millionfold.
“I can’t stay back here long,” Rebel pants, breaking the kiss.
“I know,” I say, because I don’t want her getting in trouble and sacrificing her job for whatever is going on between us. This is only a hookup. No commitments.
My arms wrap around her waist and our tongues tangle. “What if I just slip a finger inside you?”
She moans. “You’re making it very difficult for me to say no.”
“So don’t.”
“I said I was going to the bathroom. I can’t exactly have an earth-shattering orgasm right now,” she says, and my hand cups her between her legs. She must be wet because I can feel her heat.
“Is that what I give you? Earth-shattering orgasms?” I tweak her nipple.
“Your ego is big enough. I don’t think I should be contributing to its size,” she says breathily as she sucks on my lower lip.
“I’m so damn hard.” I push my hard-on against her thigh.
She moans some more, seemingly turned on by my words.
“I should go,” she says, pressing herself against me. I rub her between her legs. “That feels so good, Wolfe.”
“Say my name again,”I urge her.
“Wolfe,” she breathes and rubs her hand up and down my jeans right over my cock.
“Come back to my house tonight. I’ll pick you up after your shift,” I say, but my voice is so pleading I’m sure I sound like I’m begging. Maybe I am.
She hesitates and I see the wheels turning in her head. “Okay.” Her agreement surprises me since it’s the middle of the night, not a quick afternoon hookup.
“Text me when your done here?”
She nods.
The door to the closet flings open and light shines in, blinding me. Rebel pulls away from me.
“Oh shit, sorry.” Matt the cook stands there looking shocked.
“Sorry,” Rebel says, straightening out her shirt.
I straighten my cock in my jeans. “I was just leaving. I had a message to deliver to Rebel,” I say. I walk past the dude, but first I wait to make sure Rebel is okay.
“Sure,” Matt says.
Rebel eyes him awkwardly, her cheeks stained pink.
“Dishes are piling up,” he tells her.
Douchebag.
Rebel rushes back to her station.
I follow her and lean into her ear. “You okay?”
“I’m lucky that wasn’t Darren,” she whispers, just as the kitchen door swings open and Darren walks in.
“I don’t know how you snuck by me, Judd, but you really can’t be back here. It causes all kinds of trouble,” he says, but he doesn’t sound angry, just maybe annoyed.
“Sorry, man. I’m heading out,” I tell him, giving his shoulder a friendly tap. He looks at me, then at Rebel, curiously. Rebel has her gloves back on and she’s busy washing dishes.
“Yeah, okay,” Darren says.
I head out the door, figuring I already gave Rebel my goodbye. I make my way out of the bar and back to my place. The guys aren’t back from town yet, which is good. I know Rebel is uneasy with them around and I can’t blame her. They can act like idiots.
I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass of water. Coach’s words ring in my mind. They want me to try and enter the draft. That changes all my plans. I wonder what Rebel would say. The moment I think the thought I have a WTF moment. What is wrong with me? She’s a hookup. We’re having fun. So why do I care to discuss a life-altering decision with her then?