The Guy on the Right (The Underdogs 1)

“That’s evident.”

“Momma!”

“Sorry, ma’am, in her defense, that kiss was on me.”

“I’m pretty sure you weren’t kissing yourself.”

“Mom, I’m about four seconds from leapfrogging you out that door,” Laney’s face turns a shade of red I’ve never seen.

A silent stand-off ensues. The force is strong with these two.

“Just chill out on the PDA until I make it home, please,” she says brushing past us to grab some champagne and opening the hall door. “Nice to meet you, Theo.”

“You too, ma’—Deidra.”

She eyes us both with expectation. “I’ll expect you at dinner next week.”

“Looking forward to it,” I say, just as the door drags closed behind her and Laney and I burst into laughter.

#herbestfriendswedding #getdowngirlgoheadgetdown #justmarried #cantlookaway #thisgirlisfire #livingourrealestlife

Grannism—Don’t smoke, but if you do, make sure the sex is worthy of it.

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Laney

I’m positive if I had my choice of dreams to play out, it would be the one I’m currently living in. Theo has his arms wrapped around me, and we’re on the dance floor mere minutes after Devin and Chase left for their honeymoon. My arms around his neck, I remain powerless to the look in his eyes. All I want is to feel his lips again. But we’ve been buying time since he’d kissed me in the hall, trying to keep it PG for my mother’s sake while never straying too far from the other. We’d kept a respectable distance in the last few hours until minutes ago when Theo wordlessly plucked me away from a conversation with the bridesmaids and led me to the dance floor to finally grant me my two-step. And I must admit, he wasn’t bad at it. The music changes to slow and sultry as we dance entranced, no longer able to avoid the pull.

“Small talk seems stupid right now,” I whisper heatedly.

“It’s not us.”

“No, it’s not,” I say as his thumb caresses my back.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, warm brown eyes penetrating mine.

I run my fingers through the damp hair on the nape of his neck. “No. Maybe a little. This just got heavy, didn’t it?”

He bites his lower lip briefly and nods. “Yes.”

“What are we doing?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to stop?”

“Take me,” I say without hesitation.

His brows lift. “Take you?”

“Take me, right now, to wherever you’re planning on sleeping tonight.”

The ride home has been silent, the air between us thick with gunpowder so heavy I can taste it. The longer he drives, the more my hunger builds. Fingers threaded, we exchange longing glances before I finally give into temptation and guide his hand to the hem of my dress. He takes his cue, sliding it up my legs as I sit back in the seat, my chest rising and falling in need. Studying his profile, he seems infuriatingly calm while my heart bangs against my chest in anticipation. But I have no doubt he’s thinking along the same lines when he brakes at a stoplight and leans over, reaching for me. I meet him halfway, our lips locking, his tongue thrusting, devouring, as he slides a warm palm up my thigh and brushes his fingers along the side of my panties. “Lift your dress,” he orders gruffly into my mouth, and I obey pulling the tulle away to give him better access.

Moaning into his mouth, I grip his hair and kiss him eagerly. Fingers exploring, he slides them beneath the elastic of my underwear to find me embarrassingly soaked.

He breaks our kiss, when the light turns green and slams on the gas, rocketing us down the empty road leading to his neighborhood. He pulls his fingers away, brushing his knuckles along my center before roughly moving them to the side and dipping a thick digit inside me. My back bows from the seat as I gasp out his name, gripping his hand, urging him for more as a groan leaves his throat.

“Theo,” I whimper, spreading wider as we fly down the street.