Double The Ache

Just as I’m getting frustrated, people suddenly start moving out of my way on their own. When I feel heat at my back I know why. I don’t even have to turn to know they are both hot on my “apple bottom.” God help me, the reminder makes me add a little wiggle to my steps as I walk. I don’t know if that’s my doing or the alcohol swimming through my system.

I spot Nelson over at the table he snagged us earlier, along with a few other players from the team. He introduced me to a lot of them already, and everyone had been nice. I was happy to get to meet some of them out of a work environment. I didn’t want to get labeled as just being the boss’s daughter. I want them to see me as more than that and I want everyone to like me. Maybe that’s something I inherited from my mother and I don’t know if it’s good or bad. I’m not used to being around so many men.

Nelson is pouring shots when I walk up to the table. I notice one of the girls Wes and Dean came with is standing next to him. She’s beautiful. She has dirty-blonde hair that hangs all around her shoulders in long waves. She’s in a tight black dress and heels that have to be at least five inches, giving her supermodel height. She’s swaying to the music and making her hair bounce with each move. She not just pretty, she’s sexy. I’ve never considered myself to be sexy. I’ve been called cute and adorable, but not sexy. In fact, the dress I have on tonight is the sexiest thing I own and it looks frumpy compared to what she’s wearing.

Nelson’s gaze is on the woman. I have to hold back a snort as I watch him spill the shots he’s pouring because he can’t take his eyes off of her.

“Nelson!” I hear Wes bark from behind me, loud enough to be heard over the music.

It makes me jump and I stumble in my low heels. Warm hands catch me before I fall on my ass. I’m not sure whose they are, but I try to jerk free of the hold. The hands only tighten and fingers dig into my hips in a possessive grip.

“Let me go,” I snip, but then I freeze when lips come to my ear.

“Dean was right. You are even softer than you look.”

I feel Wes’s lips behind my ear and every cell in my body goes on high alert.

Nelson and the other woman are staring at us. Nelson has a cocky grin on his lips, while the girl’s mouth has formed a perfect O. I’m guessing she’s pissed because one of these two men is hers and they’re both with me for some reason.

Wes’s hand slides from my hip to my stomach and he wraps himself around me. I panic and use my elbow and swing back hard. Wes lets out a little grunt, and I hiss. It’s like hitting a freaking wall and I wonder if I did more damage to myself then I did to him.

Wes lets me go and I dart from his hold, scared he might try to grab me again. I walk straight to Nelson and pick up one of the shots on the table. I throw it back and a harsh bitter taste fills my mouth. I grab another and shoot that back, too.

A warm buzz flows through my body and I try to ignore the taste. I’ve never really drunk before, and I don’t know what this is going to do to me. I’ve had a few glasses of champagne at events my mother took me to, and I’ve occasionally sipped a glass of red wine when out to dinner, but this feels different.

Before I know what’s happening the shot glass leaves my hand as Dean takes it from me. He drops it down onto the table and gives Nelson a hard look.

I pull my eyes away from Dean to look at Nelson, who has his arm around the woman. He rolls his eyes and drops his arm from around her at the same time Dean puts his arms around me. I feel Wes at my back, his body heat familiar and strong.

I do a little dip to drop Dean’s arm from around me, then turn to look at the both of them. They’re like a human wall taking up all the space in front of me as both have their arms crossed over their chests. They look like they could be the bouncers in this club. I have to lean my head all the way back to even make eye contact with them.

I put my hands on my hips and square my shoulders. “Keep your hands off me,” I shout at both of them. Dean smirks, giving me that dimple, and Wes’s face is unreadable. I’m pretty sure he’s fighting a smile, which is irritating. A little growl leaves me, and the smirk Wes is fighting breaks free. God, he’s even more handsome when he smiles. I want to smack the looks off their faces.