move earning him my thumbs-up.
Ever so damn predicable, Ball-Busted stiffens, then shoves Francis away. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he snarls, “Try that again and I’ll bite off your fucking tongue.”
“Excellent. Give yourself a point. You’ve used sex to achieve your goal of making him angry.” Well, no shit, Sherlock. Then she wiggles her finger at Jaxson. “You’re up.”
He unwinds his big body from his perch on the sofa arm and saunters to the center of the room.
I drag my eyes away but not before they connect with Sabrina’s. Terrific. She’s probably caught on to my lustfest over him. It doesn’t take a psychology degree to figure it out. I mean, what woman can resist him? I mentally brace myself, instinctively knowing she’s about to fuck with me. That whatever happens will also be a lesson in how a female pecking order is established, with her believing she’s the head cheerleader and that I’m just some lowly, rock music–loving geek. I’m careful not to give any more of myself away, which judging by the snap of her head, displeases her.
I plaster a big, fake smile on my face then look back the other away. My heart gives a few fist pumps when I realize Jaxson’s attention is directed toward me.
He winks.
Jesus. In a split second, my newfound determination to resist him flies out the window. Damn him. This man is going to be the end of me yet.
“Who else?” Broken-Nose demands.
Sabrina shakes her head. No. No one.
What the heck?
Then she reaches up, wraps her arms around Jaxson’s shoulders, and, pressing her big boobs into his chest, draws his head down to her.
He lets her.
I contemplate leaving the room. Or worse, dragging her away from him. Yet that’s what she’s hoping for. Provoking me. Manipulating my insecurities with her sexually charged moves on Jaxson. Targeting me. I grit my teeth. I’ll be damned if I give her the satisfaction, so I lean back in my chair, cross my legs, and pretend the flush on my cheeks caused by the heat and not because my blood is boiling. Because of her. Because of him. Because of my own fickle horn-girl response to him.
His lips hover over hers. Familiar lips. Promised to me . . . to be mine. Damn them both.
Sabrina folds into him like a cat who’s ready to lick the cream off the naughty curve of his smile.
At the last second, Jaxson pulls his head away and whispers something in her ear. Her pout turns sinister as he breaks away and steps back.
“My throat’s sore from all the running in the rain. How about another healthier volunteer step up in my place? Someone who won’t make the pretty lady sick?”
Ball-Busted jumps up.
She gives him a vicious sit-your-ass-back-down wave.
I feel like clapping my hands. Outplayed by the player. Why should that surprise anyone, including myself? One hundred points, Jaxson.
“Fine,” she says in a tight voice. “Let’s move on to our next duo.”
I catch Hayden’s stern frown. Guess he’ll be thinking twice about inviting her back. “Her,” she bites out, addressing—you guessed it—me. “Any volunteers?”
Ball-Busted stands.
Terrific.
“Sit,” Jaxson tells him.
Sabrina’s eyes widen like they’re going to pop out of her head.
Jaxson shrugs. “Let’s see what she’s got,” he tells her.
For a second I think she’s going to bust a gasket but manages to compose herself. It wouldn’t bode well for the psychologist to flip out, though if there’s one person in the room who excels at pressing people’s buttons . . .
Everyone—Ball-Busted, Sabrina, me—glares at him. The room practically sizzles with furious energy.
“Do your best. Intoxicate him, sweetheart,” Sabrina says, her tone laced with insincerity.
I wince. Evidently, words even reached her ears about my tampering with the water bottles. Way to rile up the fellas’ vindictive sides. God, how I’d love the chance at knocking her down a peg or two.
Jaxson wiggles a come-hither finger at me.
I roll to my feet and approach him, giving my best overconfident, in-the-know vibe, when in actuality I don’t want to be anywhere near the man-whore. Especially not in a game of manipulation—when he clearly has the upper hand.
Sabrina leans in and hisses in my ear, “Get him to want you.” Jesus. Vindictive much?
She steps away, heading toward the vacant seat next to Hayden. Lucky man.
Let’s see what she’s got? How am I going to get Jaxson to kiss me when he doesn’t want to be kissed?
“‘Never mind the bollocks,’” he reads my T-shirt.
“Better mind yours,” I say.
Jaxson stares at me for a