The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

“Get offs?”

“Off. Yes. What do I do?”

“Send him a thank ju card.”

“Really?”

“Hell no. Oh God, jour a hopeless and dopey romantics, and ju chose a jocks to fool around with? Not smart, Mami.”

“I know. Trust me, but he’s so damned sexy.”

“Dey always are. Until dey steal jour favorite shirt and go have sex with another man while wearing it!”

“I don’t think I’m in that same danger.”

“Lucky ju.”

“You know whenever you say that it sounds like you’re calling me a lucky Jew.”

“Aren’t ju?”

I grin. “Tonight I am.”

“Look, have fun. Don’t over tink tings. This is probably a flings.”

“Fling.”

“Same thing.”

A knock at the window has me jumping out of my skin. I look over to see Lance holding the pizza box. Mortified, I roll down my window and narrow my eyes.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Pretty much your entire conversation.” Lance chuckles. “You forgot this, and my ride is here.” He points to a white Taurus. “I couldn’t hold out any longer.”

“Who is that? Mami?” I turn the volume way down; my eyes bugging out of my head. All the blood rushes to my face as I snatch the box out of his hands.

Lance leans down, his presence stealing my breath. “So, no thank you card?”

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t fake that orgasm.”

“You know damn w

ell I—”

He snatches my face into his hands and plants a long hard kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, his eyes are shining with amusement. “Goodnight, Mami.”

Harper

Lance’s tongue swirls around my center in a tease before he begins to lap me up while I rip at his thick hair. Since we’ve started to get intimate, the minute we enter the gym, we enter a different world.

Tonight, the second I locked the door he crossed the gym to meet me and we collided. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation on either of our parts. The trust he’s been earning evident now as he keeps me pinned, his hands around my wrists, his mouth devouring me.

For the last two weeks, we’ve been taking it as far as we can go without actually ‘doing’ the deed. Some nights we study. Others he works himself stupid on the bag until he collapses, mostly silent due to his frustrations. It’s getting easier to gauge his moods. And it’s also getting easier for me to see the weight on his herculean shoulders. Today he’s been more talkative than usual. Taking a break from his workout to watch me dance. Sometimes he sits atop the mats and just watches, quick to compliment, always ready to give soundless approval with the look on his face alone. He’s replaced every single man in my fantasies, and tonight, after touching and tasting me the way he has, I doubt he’ll be excluded in any of them in the future.

“Yes, right THERE!”