“My kisses are always spectacular, don’t worry.”
Fuck, now my dick feels like a brick. I couldn’t hide this erection if I wanted to, which I don’t. I want CeCe to know what she does to me.
“How about we end the game right now and count our money,” I suggest, not wanting to prolong this any further. “Biggest bank wins.”
“You’re on,” she says. Her eyebrow rising in challenge and I fucking love it.
She starts counting her fake bills, which turns out to be more difficult than you’d think. I get distracted watching her separate them by denomination, the tip of her tongue poking out between her full, pink lips. I want to suck that tongue into my mouth and taste her.
When she’s done, she looks at me with hazy eyes and a very confident smile. It’s the smile that does things to my insides—weird and new things, but things I must ignore.
“Two thousand, eight hundred and fifty-two dollars. What’d you end up with?”
I’ve been keeping a running tally in my brain for the entire game, so I don’t really need to recount my stack to know she has more money than I do. I’m not afraid to lose a silly board game. I’m not even afraid to lose to CeCe Calhoun. It’s not about winning or losing tonight; it’s about getting that kiss I was promised.
I want it. I want her. But just for tonight.
So, I do something I’m not very proud of. I slide three five-hundred-dollar Monopoly bills out from under my thigh, the same ones that have been hiding there since the game began, and add them to my stack.
“Sorry, babe. Looks like I got you by seven hundred dollars. Congrats on a great game, though.”
Glancing up, I catch sight of those big, brown eyes and the way they go a little wider when they realize I’m serious. Yeah, CeCe, I always collect on my debts, so pay up. When she swallows hard, my dick twitches in my pants and my fingers itch to touch her.
It’s been a while since I’ve fucked anyone. Relationships aren’t my thing and I’m not interested in making my life messy with females who get attached. Co-workers are off-limits. People who are after my family fortune are way the fuck off-limits. So, my options are limited.
A woman I met in a hotel lobby in San Francisco.
The lady who shared an Uber with me in Chicago.
Hot, red-headed bartender in New York.
She was the last one, over a month ago, but now I have my sights set on the delicious brown-eyed, brown-haired beauty across from me. I shouldn’t. My best friend is in love with her best friend. She’s too closely connected and if things work out between Maverick and Carys, I’ll be forced to see her again. It’s not my style. She’s not my style, but fuck if I don’t want her more than anything I’ve wanted in a long damn time. Which is all the more reason I need to fuck her. She’ll mess with my head if I don’t. I’ll always wonder.
What does she taste like?
What does she sound like when she comes?
What face does she make when she’s at the peak of ecstasy?
“You want to kiss me?” she asks, her voice coming out slow and breathy, a hint of disbelief.
I can’t help being intrigued by her. In one breath, she’s confident and sure of herself. In the next, there’s a bit of self-doubt, just enough to keep her feeling real and honest. She doesn’t come off like a girl who’d be up for a one-night stand, but the way her tongue darts out to wet those fucking lips, I know there’s more to CeCe Calhoun than what you see on the surface.
Standing from the chair, I let it screech against the floor as I walk around the table and brace my arms on either side of her. “We have a deal.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, leaning back a little due to my proximity, but her eyes are still drinking me in. Her smidge of self-doubt is mixed with lust and desire.
“We’re both business people, right?” I ask, letting my voice drop as my mouth lingers near her ear. “I don’t know about you, CeCe, but I never go back on a deal.”
“N—no…me neither.”
“Good.”
The second my lips brush her cheek, I hear the inhale of breath and then her hands come up to grip my shoulders. Oh, yeah, she wants this.
Chapter 1
Shep
2 Years Later
“Fucking hell, it’s hot. How did I manage to forget how hot it gets down here? And, who the fuck thought it’d be a good time to move?” I glare at my best friend and business partner—who might be demoted to ex status after today—as I carry another box inside my new townhouse. “Oh, that’s right, you.”
He smirks. “If you think it’s hot now, just wait until August,” he calls back as he turns to retrieve more of my shit from the moving truck. “Your balls will be melting down your legs!”
I meet him at the back of the truck and take the box from him. “That’s a lovely visual, Mav, but that won’t be me. I’ll be locked away with my new, high-powered air conditioner until December.”
“Such a fucking spoiled brat,” he mutters to himself, making me chuckle. We’ve always given each other shit for being rich kids, but we’d never let anyone else talk about the other that way. “No worries. New Orleans will fix you right up.”
Maverick pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes his brow before heading back into the truck to grab more of my belongings.
“You sound like such a local when you say shit like that.” I say it like it’s a bad thing but, deep down I know it’s not. I also have a feeling he’s right, but I won’t be admitting that any time soon.
“I know. Ain’t it great?” he counters with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Smug bastard.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy Maverick has settled in here as well as he has. Thrilled, even. He’s living his best life in The Big Easy and it shows. I’ve never seen him happier and more content. Our business is doing very well and the hotel he helps run, the Blue Bayou, has been booming for the last year or so. And, as if that weren’t enough, the poor sap is in love. Like, completely smitten, head over heels in love. I don’t envy him that, though. He can have his real-life fairytale and I’ll gladly stick to the single life, thank you very much.
That’s another bonus to living in a new city, fresh fish. Particularly, ones who don’t know me from Adam and couldn’t care less my last name is Rhys-Jones.
We finish unloading the truck and spend the next half hour soaking up that a/c I mentioned earlier while downing a few bottles of water.
“I still can’t believe you didn’t hire a moving company. It’s very un-Sheplike of you.” Maverick tosses his empty water bottle in a bin by the back door then pulls a beer for each of us from the cooler he brought with him.
“Come on, I’m not completely incapable of doing things on my own…or with the help of my best friend.” I take a swig of the cold beer, enjoying the crisp flavor on my tongue more than the water I’d just finished. “Besides, I only brought the necessities. This place came fully furnished, so I left everything else back in Dallas.”
“Ahh, so you’re keeping your house on standby in case New Orleans doesn’t work out? That, my friend, is very Sheplike.”