Heat of the Moment
Page 6
She met Garrett’s gorgeous brown eyes and offered a little smile. “So what do you say?”
Garrett decided he was dreaming. Because, really, there was no other explanation for what had just happened. One moment he and Carson were about to leave Shelby’s café, the next she’d somehow convinced them to stay and put a quarter-full tequila bottle to good use. He didn’t know why he’d agreed, but somehow he had, and now here he was, watching Shelby Harper toss her head back and take a shot.
Fuck, she was sexy. Her blonde waves cascaded down her shoulders, her delicate throat bobbing as she swallowed back the fiery liquid.
She made a face, then handed the bottle and shot glass to Carson, who was more than ready for the challenge. Carson swiftly took his shot and passed the bottle over.
Garrett glanced at it for a moment, debating. He had no idea what Shelby was trying to accomplish. Was she trying to get him drunk? Was she planning on jumping his bones if he did? And if so, why the hell had she asked Carson to stick around too?
Something niggled in the back of his mind, but he forced the absurd idea away.
No. No. Freckles or not, Shelby definitely wasn’t the type who’d go for a three-way romp.
Was she?
“C’mon, Johnny,” Shelby teased after he’d hesitated too long. “Scared of a little tequila?”
Uh-oh, she’d called him Johnny. He’d once told her how he felt about the nickname.
His exact words had been, “I hate it. I kick the asses of people who call me that”. But he didn’t want to kick Shelby Harper’s ass at the moment, not by a long shot. She looked so damn good in that tight yellow tank top with her fair cheeks flushed from the heat and the alcohol. He wanted to kiss her. Badly. So badly he could practically taste her on his lips.
But rather than jumping across the table and capturing her mouth with his, he met her challenge and downed some alcohol instead.
The tequila burned its way down to his gut, warming his body and easing the knot of tension coiled inside him.
“God, it’s so hot,” Shelby said with a groan, fanning herself with one dainty hand.
Then she smiled and shot to her feet. “We need ice.”
Garrett admired her tight little ass as she hurried out of the room. She was wearing a filmy blue skirt that was practically transparent, and if he looked hard enough he could see the outline of her panties. Wait. The skirt moved and…yeah, she had a thong on.
Oh Jesus.
Trying not to groan, he shifted in his chair, but no matter how he arranged himself his pants still felt exceedingly tight.
“So…I think she’s trying to seduce us,” Carson murmured. He looked a little startled, as if he couldn’t quite believe this turn of events. “I guess I stand corrected on the freckles thing.”
Garrett swallowed, not believing it either. He’d been thinking the same thing, and hearing his best friend and teammate say it confirmed his own suspicions. “She’s had too much to drink,” was the only reply he could come up with.
“She’s not drunk, man. Walking in a straight line, not slurring her words…”
Carson’s mouth stretched out in a smile. “I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.
And exactly what she wants.”
He wanted to argue, but Shelby returned with a plastic bowl filled with ice and flopped down in her chair again. When she reached for an ice cube and began trailing it down her neck, Garrett decided Carson was right. Shelby knew precisely what she was doing. And her plan obviously included making her two companions as hard as granite.
A little moan slid out of her throat as she rubbed the ice along her collarbone, leaving a path of glistening moisture on her silky skin.
Garrett shifted again, but it was futile. He had an erection of monstrous proportion, and it only continued to grow the longer Shelby dragged that ice cube over herself. She lifted her wavy blonde hair up and cooled the nape of her neck. Ran the ice up and down her bare arms. Brought it back to her collarbone, then—oh sweet Lord—slid her fingers under the neckline of her tank top.
It amazed him to realize that he was jealous—of the f**king ice cube. He could see her palm moving beneath her shirt, hear her sighs of contentment as she rubbed the ice over the tops of her perky br**sts, and all he wanted to do was push her hand away and take over.
“You guys are missing out,” she teased, gesturing to the bowl on the table.
“Seriously, take some ice and put it down your shirt. It feels like heaven.”
Carson chuckled. “Can’t speak for Garrett, but I’m having more fun watching you.”
Shelby made an irritated sound and pulled her hand out of her cle**age. The ice had melted, and her fingers were wet, making Garrett want to lean forward and lick the moisture off with his tongue. And when he finished licking her fingers, he’d tear that shirt off her body and lick everything beneath it. And then…then he’d get down on his knees, lift that skirt up to her waist and lick under there too…
Quickly averting his gaze, he clenched his fists, stunned to realize he was unbelievably close to coming. He’d almost blown his fricking load, in his pants, without so much as touching Shelby.
The woman was far more dangerous than he’d ever suspected.
“Look how nice it feels…”
He slowly uncurled his fingers and lifted his head just in time to see…yup, Shelby was running an ice cube along Carson’s jaw line.
Garrett watched as she leaned in closer and traced Carson’s mouth with the ice. The lucky bastard was enjoying every second of it and Garrett didn’t blame him. He’d be pretty happy too if Shelby had her fingers on his mouth. Which raised the question—
Garrett decided he was dreaming. Because, really, there was no other explanation for what had just happened. One moment he and Carson were about to leave Shelby’s café, the next she’d somehow convinced them to stay and put a quarter-full tequila bottle to good use. He didn’t know why he’d agreed, but somehow he had, and now here he was, watching Shelby Harper toss her head back and take a shot.
Fuck, she was sexy. Her blonde waves cascaded down her shoulders, her delicate throat bobbing as she swallowed back the fiery liquid.
She made a face, then handed the bottle and shot glass to Carson, who was more than ready for the challenge. Carson swiftly took his shot and passed the bottle over.
Garrett glanced at it for a moment, debating. He had no idea what Shelby was trying to accomplish. Was she trying to get him drunk? Was she planning on jumping his bones if he did? And if so, why the hell had she asked Carson to stick around too?
Something niggled in the back of his mind, but he forced the absurd idea away.
No. No. Freckles or not, Shelby definitely wasn’t the type who’d go for a three-way romp.
Was she?
“C’mon, Johnny,” Shelby teased after he’d hesitated too long. “Scared of a little tequila?”
Uh-oh, she’d called him Johnny. He’d once told her how he felt about the nickname.
His exact words had been, “I hate it. I kick the asses of people who call me that”. But he didn’t want to kick Shelby Harper’s ass at the moment, not by a long shot. She looked so damn good in that tight yellow tank top with her fair cheeks flushed from the heat and the alcohol. He wanted to kiss her. Badly. So badly he could practically taste her on his lips.
But rather than jumping across the table and capturing her mouth with his, he met her challenge and downed some alcohol instead.
The tequila burned its way down to his gut, warming his body and easing the knot of tension coiled inside him.
“God, it’s so hot,” Shelby said with a groan, fanning herself with one dainty hand.
Then she smiled and shot to her feet. “We need ice.”
Garrett admired her tight little ass as she hurried out of the room. She was wearing a filmy blue skirt that was practically transparent, and if he looked hard enough he could see the outline of her panties. Wait. The skirt moved and…yeah, she had a thong on.
Oh Jesus.
Trying not to groan, he shifted in his chair, but no matter how he arranged himself his pants still felt exceedingly tight.
“So…I think she’s trying to seduce us,” Carson murmured. He looked a little startled, as if he couldn’t quite believe this turn of events. “I guess I stand corrected on the freckles thing.”
Garrett swallowed, not believing it either. He’d been thinking the same thing, and hearing his best friend and teammate say it confirmed his own suspicions. “She’s had too much to drink,” was the only reply he could come up with.
“She’s not drunk, man. Walking in a straight line, not slurring her words…”
Carson’s mouth stretched out in a smile. “I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.
And exactly what she wants.”
He wanted to argue, but Shelby returned with a plastic bowl filled with ice and flopped down in her chair again. When she reached for an ice cube and began trailing it down her neck, Garrett decided Carson was right. Shelby knew precisely what she was doing. And her plan obviously included making her two companions as hard as granite.
A little moan slid out of her throat as she rubbed the ice along her collarbone, leaving a path of glistening moisture on her silky skin.
Garrett shifted again, but it was futile. He had an erection of monstrous proportion, and it only continued to grow the longer Shelby dragged that ice cube over herself. She lifted her wavy blonde hair up and cooled the nape of her neck. Ran the ice up and down her bare arms. Brought it back to her collarbone, then—oh sweet Lord—slid her fingers under the neckline of her tank top.
It amazed him to realize that he was jealous—of the f**king ice cube. He could see her palm moving beneath her shirt, hear her sighs of contentment as she rubbed the ice over the tops of her perky br**sts, and all he wanted to do was push her hand away and take over.
“You guys are missing out,” she teased, gesturing to the bowl on the table.
“Seriously, take some ice and put it down your shirt. It feels like heaven.”
Carson chuckled. “Can’t speak for Garrett, but I’m having more fun watching you.”
Shelby made an irritated sound and pulled her hand out of her cle**age. The ice had melted, and her fingers were wet, making Garrett want to lean forward and lick the moisture off with his tongue. And when he finished licking her fingers, he’d tear that shirt off her body and lick everything beneath it. And then…then he’d get down on his knees, lift that skirt up to her waist and lick under there too…
Quickly averting his gaze, he clenched his fists, stunned to realize he was unbelievably close to coming. He’d almost blown his fricking load, in his pants, without so much as touching Shelby.
The woman was far more dangerous than he’d ever suspected.
“Look how nice it feels…”
He slowly uncurled his fingers and lifted his head just in time to see…yup, Shelby was running an ice cube along Carson’s jaw line.
Garrett watched as she leaned in closer and traced Carson’s mouth with the ice. The lucky bastard was enjoying every second of it and Garrett didn’t blame him. He’d be pretty happy too if Shelby had her fingers on his mouth. Which raised the question—
