Boyfriend Bargain(38)

She kisses me.

And shit, the world is golden.





30





Sugar





“Movie drinking games. Wahoo,” I say as I toss back the sip of tequila Z poured for me earlier. We’re standing in his kitchen, barely keeping our hands off each other as everyone—a few of his friends plus Taylor and Poppy—waits in the den. Tonight we’re mixing our worlds together, and we’re laughing about how interesting it’s going to be.

He grins and leads me back into the den. My eyes run over him, taking in the broad shoulders, long legs, and blond hair. He looks relaxed and I feel a burst of joy.

He turns and takes a sip of his water, watching me too, and I shiver as I think about the things we do to each other.

There’s no denying it—we have this whole when I see you, I want to get naked with you thing going on, and it’s intense and I’m giving in to all of it. I’ve never wanted a man this much. I’ve never given over so much control, and while a small kernel of me is scared, I don’t care. I’ve pushed my reservations aside for now and just…going with it.

Over the past weeks, February arrived and now it’s almost March, and he spends more time at my place than his. During the day we barely see each other because he runs, goes to class, goes to hockey, and then does more training. Toss in three days of therapy and he’s a busy guy. I’m still popping in at Mara’s in the mornings and grabbing an early night shift here and there tending bar.

But the late nights in my bed…

I’m his.

I own his darkness.

Tonight is Sunday, the guys are fresh from a win on the road, and I haven’t seen him since Friday when they left. My body is craving his.

“Get your drinks ready. Who’s ready for movie games?” Z says to the small group of people dotted around the den.

They all clap or shout.

Eric is on the couch with Eleanor, a cute girl with bouncy brown hair and a bright smile. Boone is here too, and he keeps giving Z awestruck looks. A pretty girl sits next to him, another freshman, but Boone’s all about his hero. Poppy is on his other side, and I see the heated side-eye she gives him, but I don’t think he notices. Taylor is sitting on a kitchen chair he pulled from the kitchen. Looking fabulous as usual in royal blue skinny jeans and a cream cashmere sweater that contrasts beautifully with his brown skin, he’s all about the man candy, eyes wide, a pleased look on his face as he talks to everyone. Brice, another hockey player, is kicked back in the recliner. I haven’t been around him much, but he’s familiar from the games I’ve been watching on TV.

I still haven’t made it to a home game, mostly because I’ve had to work or study. The closer it gets to law school—even though I technically don’t have one to go to yet—the more I’m pinching every penny. I’m not taking the inheritance from my father. Mara says I’m being stubborn, says I’m letting my pride get in the way, and maybe she’s right. I’d be the first to admit I’m a stubborn person, but when I think back to my childhood, all I see is him not wanting me. I don’t need his money to build a life. I don’t. I’ve been fine all these years without his help, so why start now?

“What’s the movie we’re drinking to?” Eric asks, bringing me back.

“Thor: Ragnarok, one of my favorites,” Z says. “As you may know, there’s a strong resemblance between us.”

“Boo, hiss.” Eric picks up a glass of vodka he poured earlier. “I’m the Viking here.” He pops up and does some air guitar. Completely random. Poppy’s eyes are wide as saucers. Taylor claps.

Z points at him. “For disagreeing with the game person, you must drink!”

“Bold words from someone who’s only drinking water,” Boone says with a grin.

Z slaps him on the back. “That’s so I can play the best hockey in the world.”

“You’re my Thor,” says Eleanor next to Eric, and he gives her a kiss on the cheek.

Z clears his throat. “Okay, here are the rules: we all have to drink when there’s a fight scene, something explodes, there’s a reference to another Marvel movie, Stan Lee pops up for a cameo, or Thor smiles like the sonofabitch he is. Got it?”

“Who determines the winner?” I ask, relaxing into the loveseat, leaving plenty of room for him to join me.

“We don’t usually have a winner, just bragging rights for whoever is able to keep up the longest,” says Eric. “But if you win, you get to pick the next movie.”

“Done!” I say. “Next time we should do a romantic comedy.”

Boone groans.

“Yes! You’ve Got Mail is my favorite! Next weekend,” Poppy says.

I smile. “My future boyfriend will love to watch those movies with me.”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Z quips. “No future about it.”

“I want to see Z watch a rom-com,” Eric says with a snort, and Boone spits his drink out.

Z leans over and kisses me square on the lips. “I’ll watch it with you.”

“Pussy-whipped,” Eric calls, and Z gives him a glare.

“Language, dude. We have ladies present.”

Eric stands and gives us a bow, apologizing very dramatically.

When Z gets up to dim the lights, Eric leans over and gives me a fist bump. “Nice to have you around, babe. I won’t say too much because your man is so jealous of me and my awesomeness he can barely stand it.”

“Stop whispering in my girl’s ear,” Z says, but there’s really no heat there. He plops down next to me and tosses an arm around my shoulders.

Eric holds his hands up. “All we talk about is you.”

“Uh-huh,” Z says. “I know how you work, pulling them in with all the banter and then you pounce.”

“Whatever.” Eric laughs. “But I’m glad to have you back at the house. Been missing your sorry face at night. Long John Silver has even been trying to sleep with me. Crazy cat.”

“I like Sugar’s company better.”

“I bet.” Eric waggles his eyes.

“Watch it,” Z says, his hand on my nape.

Eric leans his head back toward the back of the house where Reece’s bedroom is. “You’ve left me here alone with Reece and Veronica. Not fun.”

“He’ll figure her out soon,” Z says, his expression hardening.

I think back to earlier when Reece and Veronica came in, mumbled brief hellos, and headed to his bedroom. I guess they’ll end up at the Kappa party later, but Z and these guys aren’t going. Those parties create anxiety for Z, and it’s one of the things he’s eliminated.

I don’t want him to eliminate his brother, though. I’m worried about it, trying to put my finger on where it stems from, besides Veronica. It’s deeper than that. At least she’s avoiding me. After the flower incident, Z told her not to ever speak to me or she’d never be welcome at his house again.

Later, after much giggling and fun, the movie ends, and it’s still early enough that we decide to crank up the music and dance. Boone pulls out his phone, hooks it up to Z’s speakers, and Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” throbs in the room. Not exactly a great dance song, so they try to lip sync instead.

Z and I sit on the loveseat and watch our friends. I lean my head on his shoulder and he pulls me closer.

“They’d make a pretty good cover band,” he says.

“Taylor would be an awesome Freddy Mercury.” The guy in question preens as he struts across the room.

Z leans down and kisses me for several moments, his lips soft and sweet. After a while, he pulls back and pushes a strand of hair out of my face, his forehead against mine. “Boone and Poppy disappeared, by the way.”

“What? They were just here,” I say, looking around the room.

“I caught them leaving out of the corner of my eye.”

Sure enough, neither of them are anywhere to be found, leaving Taylor, Eric, Eleanor, the other girl, and Brice dancing. “Where did they go?”

Z grins. “Bathroom, I think. Maybe the garage.” He gives me a smirk. “It’s a great spot.” His fingers slip under the shoulder of the red sweater I’m wearing, toying with my bra strap. “We can sneak off too.”

He bites that lower lip, and I feel myself melting.

“What do you have in mind?”

“You on your stomach with me behind you,” he whispers in my ear, the scruff from his beard sliding deliciously against my neck.

“What else?”

“I’ll take you real slow at first, but your pussy is so sweet and wet and I’ll want you hard. I’ll want to tie your hands to the bedposts and push your legs together when I fuck you.” His grey eyes find mine, smoky with heat.

Hell yeah. I stand up, legs shaky. “I’m ready when you are.”

He stands and laces our hands together then we walk out of the room, leaving them to their party.

In his room, he pulls my hair out of its ponytail and arranges it over my shoulders. Moving excruciatingly slow, he slips my sweater over my head and drops it. His gaze darkens, tracing the lines of my pale pink lace bra. His fingers turn me around and I feel the heat of his gaze on my back.

“Is it irrational that every time I see this, I’m pissed at the guy who saw your bare back to give you this tattoo?” he says as his lips brush my shoulder.