Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,104

that’d unhook a bra strap through the strength of his willpower, and it wasn’t a talent that should have belonged to a man more confident in a pair of beat-up jeans and boots than a wedding tux.

The blonde scruff on his hard jaw was as intimidating as his smirk, like a wolf licking his chops and preparing for the next course.

Which, of course, was me.

It had always been me.

Nate spent a majority of our time together eating me up, and it was pure bliss to be absolutely devoured by this man. I wished he took his taste and moved on, but Nate hadn’t let me escape from our one night unscathed.

He chased. I ran.

And it became a wild game that I’d never win.

Nate leaned against the doorway, watching me struggle against my own arousal, irritation, and cowardice—which I easily faked as juggling the wedding materials. He didn’t offer to help. He just watched me.

Amused.

Entertained.

Hungry.

His voice teased with a playful edge, one side a feather, the other as dangerous as a leather flogger. He took the wedding binder from my arms and arched an eyebrow.

“When we have our wedding…?” His grin paralyzed me halfway between indignation and foolish hope. “Promise me we’ll just elope.”

2

Nate

Goddamn. Mandy was cute when she got flustered.

She was also beautiful when she was excited. And angry. And irritated. And overwhelmed.

Which was now.

“Our wedding?”

She squeaked over the word. Teasing her was too easy, but I loved hearing that squeal any way I could get it. Whether she stomped her feet and got pissy or whimpered it with her heels over her head, her cry rang like music to my ears.

She huffed like she could read my thoughts, but I never hid what I wanted from Mandy. My desires were as honest as she could imagine.

I thumbed through the wedding binder, but Mandy wrenched it from my hands, nearly slicing my finger on the cheap plastic cover.

“We are not getting married,” she said.

I grinned. “Not with that attitude we aren’t.”

She stormed into her own house, which was as amusing as her ordering me out of it. I ignored her, following her into the kitchen as those plump hips swayed a sultry beat. She meant to stomp. Instead she shimmied, slipped, and then slid across the linoleum in pink socks.

Socks I distinctly remembered.

Socks I told her to keep on while I fucked the blessed hell out of her that night.

I always considered myself a stockings man—thigh high with no mystery. Instead, I chased a girl in pink, polka-dot socks.

But Christ, she was gorgeous, even while she glared at me. If only she realized I could see her perky little nipples pressing against her shirt. Never got a better greeting from her before. I might have complimented her, but sure as sin she’d hide those pebbles from me, and I’d be jerking from memory all over again.

“Don’t make me get on one knee.” I loved to watch her squirm. She did her best to avoid my gaze. “You. Me. A quick getaway to someplace fun. Atlantic City. Vegas. Key West? What do you say?”

Mandy nibbled on her bottom lip, full and plump. She didn’t realize she was the perfect little tease, luring me into a chase.

“Like you’d ever settle down,” she said.

“And if it meant a chance to go down again?”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful reason to get married.”

“Come on. You’re not naive. You know why people really get married.”

“Love? Commitment?”

Maybe she was that naive.

Mandy set her binder on the counter, laying out all the plans for Lindsey’s freak-show of a wedding. I saw a couple trendy ideas that were more expensive than practical, but apparently that’s what people liked to waste time on now.

She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe they get married because they want to start a family?”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s all about the wedding night, baby.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“So were you.”

I took one step too close. Mandy pushed a finger into my chest, and I grinned as I retreated.

She was a gorgeous little thing—like a wisp of a fairy, dark-skinned and gentle with almond eyes and a skin-tone to match. She was beautiful enough for me to wish I hadn’t already fucked her, if only for a chance to seduce that perfection again.

Almost.

But nothing could make me regret that night.

“Can’t we just be…normal around each other?” she asked.

“I’ve always hit on you, baby. Am I really acting any differently now?”

“Yeah, you’re worse.”

“Only because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She glanced over my shoulder, probably worried someone heard me declare my