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At first I miss it, too focused on trying to not make a fool of myself. Plus her legs are bare, long and sexy, her thighs cut off by the hem of the oversized jersey. It’s not until my eyes travel up that I really see her.It.

The tear in the sleeve. The number eight stitched just above it. Shelby Rakestraw is standing in the middle of that little porch wearing my jersey and nothing else.

Have. Fucking. Mercy.

I step into the room, not bothering to shut the door, and reach out, fisting the front of the shirt in my hand. “Where did you find this?”

Her head tilts back and I see the line of her throat clench as she swallows. “In the laundry room. I saw it in the basket and just thought… because you said–”

“I know what I said,” I growl, pushing her hair off her neck. I plant my lips on her soft skin, sucking hard. “I just didn’t know…” I trail off licking a hot trail across her skin because I don’t know if I can admit what I didn’t know. Like how seeing her flipped a switch inside of me, unleashing something possessive and feral. Like how my cock is so hard that with onetouch I’d probably blow. But the one I really can’t confess, the biggest one of all, is the urge coursing through my veins that demands that I take her, mark her, and claim her.Mine.

I’m not supposed to make girls like Shelby mine. I’m not good for them. Goodenough.

But I did promise her adventure and experience, and so far she’s met me step for step. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I drag her to me with one hand and kick the door shut with my foot. I sit on the couch, pulling her into my lap, afraid that if I get her horizontal it’ll go too far, but this, feeling her hot little pussy pressed against me, it’ll do.

“We can go upstairs,” she says between kisses, “and get in bed like you said.”

I laugh running my hand up her shirt and feeling the soft underside of her tit. “Sorry, GG, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” she asks, breath hitching as I swipe a thumb over her nipple.

I withdraw my hands and use them to cup her face, making her look at me. Her eyes are filled with doubt and insecurity. Not cool. “Remember when I told you that if I were David there were other ways I’d show the world you were mine than a ring full of promises?”

She nods.

“There’s nothing sexier than a girl you’re into wearing your clothing.” Wrapping my arms around her, I trace the letters on her shoulders, starting with the ‘W.’ “Especially when it has your name on it. It sends a message.”

“To who?”

Fuck. She’s so innocent and sweet and has no idea how much effort it’s taking to control myself right now. “To the guy and to anyone else that sees it.”

A shiver runs up her spine and her back arches, drawing my eyes down to where her nipples poke through the fabric. Themovement makes her press down on my erection and my mind goes blank. Hell. This girl is going to be the end of me.

“Did Darla wear your clothes?” The question comes as a surprise.

“No. Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Darla was more into fashion than I was. It was something we were kind of into together. Dressing like a fan, or worse, a jersey chaser, didn’t fit her style.” She also made it clear she didn’t want to be identified by my accomplishments. I understood it, but it also sucked. There’s something motivating for an athlete about having their “person” out in the stands supporting them. “It was fine.”

“But you like it.” She runs her hand down the side of my face, fingers trailing over my jaw. I’ve noticed she likes exploring my body. Touching the muscles on my abs and chest, the lines of my face. Something she couldn’t do with David. “Shouldn’t your girlfriend do nice things for you?”

I shrug it off. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Her fingers move south, to the ‘V’ at the top of my button down shirt. I swallow, growing more aroused with every second. “I don’t know,” she says, a little of that naivety slipping away. “I think you deserve better than that, Reid Wilder.”

I restrain myself as Shelby unbuttons my shirt, giving me a soft kiss between every loosened button. She parts the fabric, revealing my chest, dipping her head to lay her tongue flat over my nipple. There’s no rush as she moves her hot, wet lips from one side to the other, toying and teasing me.

Did I say naive? Because none of this feels innocent or inexperienced.

I grab her behind and massage her ass over the cotton covered panties that drive me wild. Another way that she’s the opposite of Darla. No pretense, just function, and it’s still sexyas hell. I dip my fingers under the edge and feel the warm heat of her pussy. She seems more comfortable this time, leaning into my touch. “Fuck, GG,” I groan, stomach caving as she kisses my abdomen, “you’re so wet.”

She licks the spot under my belly button and I blame that tongue for short circuiting my brain because the next thing I know she’s unzipping my pants and has positioned herself between my thighs, down on her knees. Christ, she looks like a goddess.

She reaches for me and my brain comes back on all cylinders. I grab her wrist.

“Hold up,” I say, sitting up from where I’ve slumped down the couch. “What are you doing?”