Dex snorts. “Hey, déjà vu.”
Adam picks up his beer. “Alright, who wants to be in the pool this time?”
“I put a hundred that they crack within the month,” Tripp tosses out his bet.
Then Will. “I’ll put my money on New Year’s.”
Dex throws up his hand. “They won’t make it two weeks.”
And with that, I’m out of my chair. “Oh, fuck off.”
Walking away from this conversation might only encourage them more, but I don’t have to convince them. I’d love to tell them it’s none of their business, but that means jack shit to this group.
I barely make it past the tables before Jensen’s breaking away from the girls dancing in the middle.
Her smile tells me she was watching all that unfold. “How much shit did they give you, Stalker?”
I chuckle, stepping closer to her I already feel ten times better. My shoulders fall from being pinned up. “Enough. Our friends have lots of opinions.”
“And questions. They’ll get over it.” She sweeps her hair behind her shoulder. “Should I ask you if you’re sure, or are you going to come dance with me? Give them something else to have opinions on.”
Her hands reach for mine and every comment, bet, even the people around us seem to disappear.
“I have a better idea.”
“Oh, yeah?” A spark lights in her eyes as I pull her to me.
“If we’re going to give them something to have opinions on, might as well go all out.”
“Lead the way, Beckham.” One of Jensen’s hands trails up my shirt then slides her fingers in between the gaps of the buttons.
Any and every fuck to give in my body leaves at her touch. I’m damn near tempted to toss her over my shoulder and carry her—just for good measure—but I’m sure anyone looking at us right now will get the picture just fine.
My grip on her hand tightens slightly as I weave us through the table set up then slip through one of the curtains.
Jensen doesn’t ask any questions about where we’re going. She definitely doesn’t ask what we’re going to do when we get there either.
Pulling open the door to Dex’s former office, I prop the door with my foot and haul Jensen to me. Her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her in and set her right on top of the desk.
My lips hover an inch or so away from hers. “In the spirit of communication, I really want to kiss you.”
Jensen hums while her fingers find their way back in between the gaps of my shirt. “Put that energy someplace else, Beckham, and don’t you dare rip this dress either.”
A small groan comes out at the thought, but then again, I have to agree with her. “No, I want to fuck you in it.” I place a kiss on her shoulder. “Have your legs shaking in it.” A kiss to the marigold on her collarbone then up her neck to her ear. “I want to fuck you so good that whenever you wear this dress it reminds you of me.”
Jensen’s whole body quivers and her hands latch on to my biceps to steady herself. “You’re stealing a lot of my memories, Beck. First the window, now the dress…” Jensen lets out a breathy moan as I kiss her neck. “What’s next?”
“Let’s find out,” I whisper against her skin.
Jensen’s head tilts back and she arches her back. If I can’t kiss her lips, then I’ll happily cover her body with them. Trace every single tattoo she has with my tongue.
“Beck, for my sanity—remind me that you had a vasectomy.”
My body stills. My knee-jerk reaction is to be a little hurt that she thinks I’d lie about something like that, but when I lean back to meet her eyes I know that’s not what she meant.
“It’s done. Snipped. Doctor cleared, Jen. I swear.” She nods her head slowly and her hands reach out for my belt, but I capture her face with mine. “We don’t have to have sex. I can have your legs shaking and leave you with an orgasm to ruin this dress without it.”
“Always so cocky.” Jensen’s eyes nearly roll out of her head before she undoes my belt. “I want to. I want to find out what piercings you’ve got down there.” She pushes me back then sinks down to her knees. “And after I’m done showing you how good of a girl I can be, you can fuck me against that window.”
