Hoops Holiday (Hoops 2.50)

Jared

I know how I want to ring in the New Year, and it’s not at this party schmoozing some dick who keeps looking down my wife’s dress. I mean, I get it. Banner looks sexy as hell. Her strapless dress defies gravity, magically supporting the fullness of her breasts. The red silk hugs the dip at her waist, stretches over the flare of her hips and caresses the curve of her ass.

“Would you excuse us, Claude?” I ask, slicing into whatever nonsense he’s spouting while rudely ogling Banner at my side. “There’s someone over there we need to see.”

I gesture vaguely across the room. Claude, president of one of the largest sports drink companies in North America, turns his head in that general direction. By the time he looks back, I’m already leading Banner away.

“See you at the All-Star break,” I call, glancing back to give him a NutraSweet smile. “You’ll be there, right?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but I don’t give a shit, and I’m tired of pretending I do.

“Great,” I answer before he can respond. “Happy New Year. Give your wife our best.”

“I don’t think he’s married,” Banner murmurs, smiling at a Gatorade executive with whom she’s been hammering out a deal for one of our clients.

“Oh, that explains why he couldn’t keep his eyes off my wi

fe,” I answer from one side of my mouth and grinning at a VP of basketball operations with the other. “I’m ready to get the hell outta here.”

She stops in the middle of the room, which makes me stop, too.

“Jared, you were the one who wanted to do this industry party on New Year’s Eve.” Her eyes go wide, long lashes feathering up to the thick arch of her eyebrows.

“Don’t even try it.” I laugh down at her, my hand tightening at her waist because it’s so hard not kissing her in front of all these people right the fuck now. “You said there would be contacts here we needed for the next few months.”

“Okay, maybe I did say that.” She bites her bottom lip, which makes me envy her teeth because I want to bite her bottom lip just like that.

No harder.

“But I said let’s just stop through,” she continues, a grin crinkling her eyes at the corners. “You were the one who got us roped into that long conversation on unrestricted free agency.”

“We need to know that guy.” I take her elbow and set us in motion again. “He’s working with the NBA Player’s Union.”

“Did you forget that Kenan’s on the executive committee of the Player’s Union?”

“Oh, yeah.” I shrug, but don’t stop our forward momentum. I have a goal in mind. “Not a waste of time, I promise you.”

I wave to a retired player who has been requesting a meeting with us for representation. Not tonight, dude.

“Where are we going?” Banner asks. She glances over her shoulder and then forward down the long corridor ahead of us. The music and murmur of conversation and tinkling liquor-filled glasses fades the farther we venture down the darkened hall. “Are we supposed to be down here?”

“Our host has this incredible library with a view of the hills.” I look back over my shoulder to make sure no one is following us. All clear. “It’s right in here.”

I open the door to our right and give Banner a gentle shove inside. She stumbles a little and swings around to face me, the dark length of her hair arcing out behind her.

“What the hell?” she asks, her mouth slightly open and her expression startled.

I don’t leave her time to wonder, but lock the door and pin her to the shelf of books against the wall.

“All night,” I mutter against the satiny column of her neck. “I have been wanting you all night.”

“Jared.” She laughs, a flush sifting pink into her honey gold complexion. “We’re gonna get caught. Stop playing.”

“Does this feel like I’m playing?” I press my erection into the cradle of her hips. “I’m as serious as a heart attack. Or maybe a hard on. I’m as serious as a hard on.”

“You . . . we can’t.” She looks up at me, and I hear what she’s saying, but I know that look. It’s the sense of adventure my girl leashes when she’s not sure she should take a risk. And I’m the guy who sets that leash on fire. I tug at the neckline of her strapless dress, and her breasts fall free. I squat and take one nipple in my mouth, groaning and slipping my hand under her dress and up her thigh.

“Jared.” She pants and wrings my hair in her fingers tightly. “That feels . . . you’re really gonna do this here?”