The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

More silence. I open my eyes and find hers trained on the exposed skin at my stomach.

“Busted. You know you check me out almost as much as I stare at your ass.”

“More ass talk,” she rolls her eyes.

“It is one amazing ass you have. And those legs.”

Red creeps up her cheeks as her chewing slows, and she swallows loudly.

“Are you innocent, Harper?”

Shit, Lance, subtle much?

I can sense her deer in headlights vibe. “Don’t answer that. I had no right to ask.”

“I’m not. Not exactly. I fooled around when I was way too young.” She slides closer to me, and I tuck my hand behind my head and peer up at her. “I, uh, made a big mistake in judgment and let’s just say, I compensated with my virginity. My parents found out. It was a bad time. So innocent, no, far from it. But I haven’t…uh, done much since.”

“Much?”

She frowns. “Why are you so interested?”

“Because I am.”

“That’s too vague. If you want to pry, you’re going to have to give me a better reason than that.”

“Because I think about you. A lot lately.”

She pauses her drink halfway to her mouth and stares down at me before recovering.

“I’m thinking it’s not about my sharp wit or pizza ordering capabilities.”

“It’s not like you’ve given me much of a chance to get to know you, Priss.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re the most receptive man in the world with your mastery of resting bastard face.”

We both laugh until I lift her hand and put it on my chest.

“I’m serious, Harper. I think about you. I wonder what it would be like if we just cut the bullshit.”

“You want more of a chance to know me?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“That clears things up,” she spouts sarcastically, tossing her half-eaten slice down and pulling her hand from my grip to clear her fingers of the crumbs.

“Look, I’m not much into tap dancing around subjects.”

“That’s obvious.”

“I’m just saying let’s not waste time denying there’s something going on here.”

I reach out and run a finger down her cheek, and she freezes. Our eyes lock and my cock stirs. “I know you feel that.”

“I do,” she says, a little breathless. I grip the back of her neck from where I lay and pull her towards me, my thumb sliding along her throat. “Closer, Harper, I want to run something by you.”

She leans in, her breath catching with each stroke of my thumb.

“W-w-what?”