I dragged a hand down my face and turned toward the highway, staring hard into the dark, willing myself to remember that I shouldn’t be lusting after my teammate’s little sister. She might as well have a shirt with “OFF-LIMITS” stitched across it.
Maybe Ian could knit her one.
Behind me, there was a rustle of fabric, followed by the soft slam of a door as she presumably stepped out of the dress and into her spare clothes.
I fixed my gaze on the wet asphalt and counted my breaths, trying to think about anything other than the sound of her moving behind me.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t—
“Ow!”
The sharp sound snapped me out of my counting. “Are you okay?” I moved without thinking, turning to face her.
And then I froze.
Bella stood on the other side of the car, turned away from me, bent at the waist, ass on full display for the second time tonight, only now it was clad solely in nude tights and a scrap of cotton and lace. White. With . . . bumblebees?
JesusfuckingChrist.
“I’m fine,” she said, a breathy moan slipping out. “I just scraped my knee on the door.”
I nearly let out a moan of my own when she stood up and twisted, revealing a glimpse of her in her bra. Fuck. Me. Her tits were full and round, spilling out of the lace, begging to be touched and sucked. Her waist was thick and soft, flaring out to hips that looked like they were made for gripping while I pounded into her.
Close your eyes, you fucking perv.
I quickly averted my gaze, giving her the privacy she deserved.
What the fuck was wrong with me? The sight of a woman in her bra shouldn’t undo me like this.
I was twenty-nine-years-old, for fuck’s sake. I had seen my fair share of tits. And yet, I had already committed those five seconds to memory, one that I would no doubt play back on repeat during this evening’s shower.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. The rain continued to fall, creating a soothing backdrop to the chaos of my thoughts. Next thing I knew, a light tap on my shoulder had me jerking upright.
I hadn’t heard her approach, hadn’t even registered her footsteps over the rain. I turned, heart still thudding against my ribs.Thankfully, she was fully dressed, this time in gray sweatpants and an oversized Roasters hoodie.
“Sorry,” she said, wincing a little. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling stupidly warm despite the cold. “I just didn’t hear you. The rain fucks with my processors.”
Her expression softened immediately, eyes flicking up to where the edges of the plastic devices peeked through my hair.
“Right.” She smiled, just barely, then nodded toward the truck. “Still good for that ride? I know it’s out of your way.”
I nodded toward the passenger door.
“Just a little,” I said, even though we both knew it was a lie.
Her townhouse in Rose City was a good forty minutes northwest of Portland and about ten minutes from the stadium. When the Roasters franchise had first formed two years ago, most of us had opted for places in Portland instead.
Rose City had charm, sure, but Portland had convenience, not to mention more options for late-night takeout after road games. And for a bunch of dudes who spent the better half of the year living out of duffel bags, convenience won out every time.
Bella had been to my place for more than a few Movie & Margarita nights, a routine event amongst our teammates and in recent months, their significant others.And fuckable sisters.So yeah, she knew just as well as I did that her house wasn’t exactly on my way.
But you wouldn’t hear me complaining.
“I don’t mind,” I said, pulling open the passenger door for her.
She hesitated for a second, tugging her sleeves over her hands before eventually climbing in. By the time I started the engine, she had tucked herself into the farthest corner of the cab, nearly hugging the window.
