Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors #3) - Samantha Whiskey Page 0,14

his Abercrombie pants. I ripped my shirt off and threw it into my bag.

“Uh…”

I shoved my head and arms through the clean, cotton shirt, then tugged it down my bare torso, which had all of Savannah’s attention. “Like what you see?” I snarled, just to snap her out of it.

Her gaze flew to mine, and though there was a slight flush on her cheeks, there was no apology, no embarrassment in her eyes. “Well, yes. Every woman in America likes what I see.” No coy flirtation, just…Savannah. Honest and blunt, as always.

I sighed, fighting off the smile that tugged at my lips. “Look, even if I wanted to—” Which you do. Right here. Now. On that bench. In the backseat of your car. On the dock. Wherever. “—your father is my coach. The first rule of being a Raptor is that you’re off limits. He’ll kick me off the team. And as much as I’d love to assist in the whole revenge-sex plot you’ve got going on, I’m not risking my career over it. People depend on me.”

Her eyes flew wide as she shook her head. “Oh, no. You have the wrong idea. This isn’t…revenge sex.” She finished those words quietly, leaning against the wall. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone. Especially not my dad.” She dropped her gaze and twisted the bottle in her hands.

“Savannah.” Okay, now I was confused. I closed the distance between us and took her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tilting her face toward mine. I loved how tall she was, how easy it would be to dip slightly and kiss her. Hell, I loved everything about her body. That was the problem. “You said this was about taking your power back.”

“It is.”

“That power doesn’t include telling your ex to shove his bet up his ass because you scored with me?” My thumb stroked her jaw gently. Fuck, my control was so shattered when it came to this woman that I couldn’t even hold her platonically.

“I don’t care what Trevor thinks.”

I never wanted to hear that name again.

“Explain this to me one more time.” I bracketed my hands on the wall on either side of her, holding on to the supports so I didn’t hold on to her.

“Okay.” She swallowed but held my gaze just like she always had. She’d always pushed and poked at me, got on every single one of my nerves, but she’d never hid from me. “I deserve to control who I have sex with for the first time.”

“Agreed.” Anything less would have me burying bodies.

“I didn’t know he had a motive.” Her shoulders dropped slightly, taking my stomach with them.

“Every man dating you is going to have a motive to get you naked, Red. It should be lust, desire, need, love…anything but a fucking bet.”

“I know.” She tucked a loose strand of her red hair behind her ear while the rest lay in a braid down the side of her breast. Not that I was looking at the deep cut of her blank tank, either. That way lay madness. “But at least if it’s with you, I’d know there’s no bet. No bragging. No request for sideline passes.”

Fuck. Now that was something I understood. “You want someone to want you for you and not what you can give them.”

She nodded.

“I get that.” My chest tightened. We were more alike than I’d ever realized, and it was dangerous, this connection.

“Simply put…I trust you, Hendrix.” There was a vulnerability in her eyes I’d never seen before, a crack in her infamous, tough-as-nails armor and it hit me straight in the heart.

“You shouldn’t.” She was twenty-one. A woman fully grown. Legal and responsible for herself in every way. She was beautiful, passionate, and so fucking sexy my dick was cursing the spandex of my rowing shorts. But more than any of that, she deserved way better than me. “I’ve fucked so many women I can’t remember their names or their faces.”

She looked away, and I cupped the back of her neck. God, she smelled good. I deserved sainthood for not immediately taking her up on her offer.

“Look at me.”

She did.

“Is that really what you want? To be added to a list I can’t even number?” That was the ugly truth of it.

“Yes.” She tilted her chin.

“Fuck that.” I pushed off the wall and put some much-needed space between us. “You deserve better. Go find some college boy who will love you.”

“Did you love the first girl you slept with?” Shit, the hand

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