Roman (Raleigh Raptors 2)

“Desiree,” Hendrix offered, slapping my back. Guy knew more than a few of them on a personal level. A very personal level.

“Right. Desiree.” I flashed her what I hoped was an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to say no.”

“Oh.” Her face fell.

“Don’t take it personally,” Hendrix said with a grimace. “He’s basically a fucking monk right now.”

“Shut it.” I drained my glass of water and set it on the bar.

“What? You are.” He shrugged as a cloud of college-aged girls headed our way.

Desiree made her exit as Savannah—the birthday girl herself—spun out of the group of co-eds and stumbled.

Hendrix caught her before she hit the ground and set her back on her feet. No wonder she’d tripped, she was three shots past drunk, wearing thigh-high boots and a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass under a Ramones t-shirt. Of course, she wasn’t wearing a costume. She never did.

She flipped her long, red hair out of her face and grinned up at Hendrix. “Thanks for the save, Hollywood.”

“What the fuck are you wearing? Aren’t you twelve?” He looked her up and down, and then his jaw popped.

“Twenty-one, today. I’m all sorts of legal now.” She winked.

His jaw hit the ground.

“Hey, Coach!” I waved at no one, unable to let the moment slide without fucking him up a little.

Hendrix’s hands shot into the air like he was under arrest. “My hands aren’t on her!”

I laughed.

He backhanded my arm. “Fucker.”

“Wow. Even you’re scared of the thou-shalt-not-touch-my-daughter decree?” Savannah scoffed, flanked by a couple of her college friends.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You might be sexy as fuck, but a piece of ass isn’t worth my contract.” Hendrix leaned back against the bar, earning him a solid glare from Savannah. “Now, go play in the sandbox like a good little girl.”

She got right in his face. “And what if someone else wants to come play in my sandbox?”

His jaw ticked again. “Then I’d say be careful and choose well. The guy who orders your drink second won’t let you come first.” He smirked.

“News flash, I don’t need a guy to let me come.” She tapped his nose and then stepped back. “I do quite well on my own, thank you.”

She turned to walk away with her girlfriends.

“Hey, Red,” Hendrix called out.

Savannah turned.

“There’s a difference between an orgasm that you work for, and one that’s been given to you by a man who knows how. Something you might want to remind your little frat-boy sandbox partner.”

She rolled her eyes and continued her walk down the bar.

“There was no need to be a dick. She’s still Coach’s daughter,” I reminded him, since Nixon was busy talking to Weston Rutherford, our owner—who was dressed like a 1920’s gangster. Of course, his assistant, Brynn, was in a Flapper costume, complete with feather boa.

“And she knows I’d fucking kill any guy who did her wrong. Doesn’t mean she gets to fuck with me just because she’s drunk. She knows she’s off-limits.” He folded his arms and glared at her back, then promptly turned down the next girl who asked him to dance.

Interesting.

I locked eyes with Teagan as the song changed, the rhythm dropping from a quick, techno beat to something sultry as Beyoncé sang about being a naughty girl. Her lips parted as her hands skimmed down her costume-clad hips and back up. Damn.

She tilted her head and crooked a finger at me.

“Your Cleopatra beckons,” Hendrix laughed softly.

“We’re just friends.”

“Please. You guys brought a joint gift for Savannah. You might as well be married at this point.” He scoffed.

Married to Teagan? Only in my wildest dreams. If I’d even thought I had a chance of making her happy, of her wanting me the way I’d always wanted her, I would have proposed in a heartbeat. I couldn’t imagine a better future than being married to my best friend. But she’d said it herself—she didn’t think of me like that. But the way she’d kissed me…

She arched a brow, and I abandoned Hendrix without another thought. She was all I saw as I crossed the floor.

“Dance with me?” she asked, her eyes bright.

I nodded. Like I’d ever deny her something I had within my power to give? Her answering smile was more than enough in return.

We moved to the rhythm, but I kept a few inches away…until she put her hands on my waist and slid her way down and back up my body. Holy shit. She kept her eyes locked on mine, and my pulse kicked up a notch.

“Oh, you want to play?” I dared her with a smirk.

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.

I tugged her against me with a smile and moved. It wasn’t the first time we’d danced together, but it was the first time we’d ever done it like this. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest as my hand splayed over her lower back, holding her as we dipped and swayed.