Page 35 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)

LOGAN

N ever have I ever wanted to put my fist through something the way I want to right fucking now.

I’m surprised my Jack and Coke hasn’t exploded in my hand with how hard I’m clenching the glass as I’m forced to watch on while Millie throws her head back and laughs out loud at something Happy says.

Total bullshit, by the way; Happy isn’t even that funny.

She’s just trying to get a rise out of me.

She’s succeeding, too. I’m about three seconds away from marching over there and claiming her as my own; fuck her brother, and fuck the rules.

She’s been openly flirting with my best friend for the last fifteen minutes at least. Jokes on her though; Happy knows the truth, and he keeps looking at me, silently checking that I’m okay, ready to put a stop to things if it goes an inch too far.

And sure, he’s a pain in the ass most of the time, but in my opinion, everyone should have a friend like Happy Slater in their lives.

“What the ever-loving fuck am I seeing right now?” Dallas grits out, coming up beside me. I glance at him to see his face murderous as he glares at his sister who currently has her hand on Happy’s arm, squeezing his fucking muscles .

“Your sister’s flirting with Hap,” I say flatly, taking a sip of my drink.

“Is he flirting back?”

Not if he values his fucking life , I don’t say out loud. “No.”

Dallas exhales a relieved sigh, sips his beer, and thankfully, before either of us can intervene with the shit show occurring less than a few feet away from us, we’re interrupted by someone yelling across the bar. “Coach and Hannah are about to pull up!”

The entire party breaks out into a sudden flurry of chaos as people rush about trying to get into place. The music dies down and the lights dim even more, but I choose to stay to the back of the crowd, up against the wall, which is when I spot my chance.

With her head down, Millie weaves her way through the crowd, and I snag her hand.

She spears me with a wide-eyed look, relief softening her features when she realizes it’s me and not some random grabbing her.

I pull her toward me, turning her so her back is to my front.

With one hand on her hip, I wrap my other arm around her waist, holding her flush against me, feeling her body shudder, causing my cock to spring to life.

And when I look down at her, I see her chest hitch with a gasp, goosebumps erupting all over her skin, and I can’t stop my own smug smirk.

I duck down, breathing her in, my lips skating against the skin in the crook of her neck as I whisper, “I warned you, Red.”

She shivers again, her chest expanding with a big breath. “What the hell are you doing?”

Is this dangerous and probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done?

Fuck yeah, it is. Do I care? No, not really.

No one can see us. I mean, they could if they really wanted to.

I can literally see Dallas across the room; one glance to his left and I’d be a dead man.

But with our six-foot-seven rookie, Cameron, standing in front of us, and everyone’s intense focus on the door, waiting for Draper to walk in, I take my chances.

With a low chuckle, I don’t answer Millie’s question with words.

Instead, I drag my hand from her hip, down over the generous curve of her ass, stopping at the indecently short hem of her dress.

She stops breathing. And, as I inch my fingers up her soft skin, gently coaxing her thighs apart with my knee, I watch her clamp her bottom lip between her teeth the moment my fingers meet her hot, wet pussy lips.

Holy mother of fuck, she was telling the truth.

No fucking panties. An unmatched possessiveness rips through me and I swear, I wanna throw her over my shoulder and get her the fuck out of here.

“Chrissake,” I rasp, swallowing a groan, my dick jumping in my pants. “What’s got you so wet, huh?”

Millie’s head lolls back against my shoulder, her hand gripping my arm secured around her waist and holding onto me as I glide my fingers through her slit, circling her swollen clit.

Her nails dig into my skin through my shirt, and it’s a welcomed pain as I tease her tight hole with my index finger.

“Answer me, Red,” I whisper. “Why is your pussy dripping?”

“You,” she grits out on a shuddering breath.

“Me?” I ask, mock surprised, putting pressure on her clit as I start to thrust my middle finger in and out of her, inwardly cheering when I feel her hips move, seeking more. “Why me?”

Her body quakes in my hold, and I see her throat bob with a thick swallow as she chokes back a whimper. She turns her head, her dazed eyes looking up at me as she says, “I like seeing you jealous.”

“Oh, I’m not jealous, baby.” I laugh, concealing my blatant lie, and my casualness completely contradicts the way I’m finger fucking her right here in a room full of our friends and my teammates, for literally anyone to see. “Happy’s just playing along. He knows you’re mine.”

“They’re here!” someone whisper-yells.

“I am not yours.” Millie narrows her eyes, but her bravado falters when I pinch her clit, her knees almost giving way.

I hold her upright, plundering her with my fingers in a slow, teasing motion. “Your pretty little cunt sure feels like it’s mine. ”

“Oh, my God.” She sighs heavily, trying to clamp her thighs together to stop me or hold me right where I am, I can’t tell.

“Not God, sweetheart,” I quip. “Logan.”

“Fuck, don’t stop,” she croaks, her face turned toward me, eyes rolling back.

“You want this, huh?” I thrust a little harder. “You wanna come, don’t you? Here in front of all these people, you filthy girl.”

“Please, Logan.”

“Please, what?” I fuck her with my fingers, rubbing her clit furiously, her body jolting with every stroke.

“Make me come,” she pleads, breathless.

She’s barely hanging on, her pussy clenching around my fingers, thighs trembling, I don’t even notice the door to the bar opening until the place erupts with screams of “Surprise!” At the same time, a cry comes from Millie; she’s right there, and I know I should just let her finish, but also, she’s been an absolute brat to me tonight, not to mention these last couple of days, so just when I feel her start to crest, I pull my fingers out of her, leaving her gasping for air, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving.

Spinning around, she gapes up at me, eyes wide and full of lust, need, and betrayal, spearing me with a hard scowl. “What the fuck, Logan?”

“I warned you, Red.” With a cocky smirk, I shrug, bringing the hand I just used to play with her pussy to my mouth, rubbing my lips and tasting her on my fingers. Fuck, I’m addicted to her sweetness.

“You’re an asshole,” she bites out, glaring at me. But she’s not fooling anyone; she wants me now more than ever.

When she spins and goes to walk away, I can’t help myself. “Don’t slip, babe.”

I wink as she throws me a deathlike glare over her shoulder. And it’s the hint of the menacing smile curling her lips that has me excited because I know whatever this is, it’s far from over. And I can’t fucking wait for more.

Coach Draper is kind of like that uncle who has a little too much to drink at Thanksgiving and won’t stop talking about how things were back in his day.

Dallas, Robbie, and I have been standing here, listening to how different things were when he played in the league.

My glass has been empty for way too long, but I don’t want to be disrespectful and peace out to go to the bar.

“It was rougher, y’know?” Coach says, chugging his beer. “Less pussies.”

I nod.

Dallas laughs.

Robbie smirks.

“Your old man was the tail end of that generation.” He looks at me, and I try not to physically wince at the mention of my father.

“Right before they started bringing in all the ‘rules’,” he adds, using his fingers as air quotes as he says rules with such disdain.

“These goddamn refs are handing out penalties like they’re fucking Oprah giving away SUVs. ”

My phone shudders from the pocket of my jeans, and I pull it out, thankful for the distraction. But when I see Red’s name on the notification, my hackles rise because she’s literally on the other side of the bar, sitting at a table with Fran, Emily, and Alex Henry’s missus. What’s she up to?

Red: You look so fucking sexy right now.

Confused, I glance across the way, trying not to be obvious, finding Millie watching me, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, big green eyes glinting. I can tell she’s up to something, so me and my twitching dick decide to play along.

Me: Thanks. I know .

I watch her as she reads the message, her pretty face illuminated by her phone screen. And then she’s tapping something in response, lips pressed together like she’s trying to stop herself from smiling.

Red: My pussy is so wet after you teased me with your fingers. My thighs are all sticky. It’s taking all I have not to go to the bathroom to finish myself off.

Fuck. Me.

I know what she’s doing. And it’s working.

A thick swallow works its way down my throat, and I shift on my feet, glancing sideways to make sure Dallas is still captivated by whatever Coach is rambling on about.

I’m forced to tuck a hand in my pocket to try and adjust my hardening cock without being too obvious.

Me: What are you playing at, Red?

I meet her eyes right as her phone vibrates in her hand, and she looks down, reading the message, a casual smile claiming her lips.

Red: I’m horny.

Before I can respond, another message pops up.

Red: I want your fat cock in my mouth. I want to feel you fuck my face until I’m gagging so hard I can barely breathe.

I don’t know what the hell happens, but suddenly I’m choking on thin air, almost dropping my phone in the process.

“You good, man?” Dallas asks, slapping me on my back.

“Uh… yeah.” I cover a cough with the inside of my elbow, sure to keep my screen out of view. Clearing my throat, I look at Co ach, Robbie, and Dallas and hold my empty glass up. “Just… um, just going to go grab a, uh… a drink,” I say with another cough before scurrying away to the bar.

“Another Jack and Coke?” the bartender asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nod, glancing back at Millie.

Me: Are you trying to get me killed, Red?

I look over my shoulder, watching Millie grin down at her phone. Seconds later, my phone shudders, and I cast a quick look around to make sure there’s no one nearby to catch an accidental glimpse of the incriminating text messages on my screen.

Red: Take me home. Please.

Fuck, the way she pleads has my balls tightening, even in text form.

Me: What’s in it for me?

My phone vibrates, and when I open the message, I swear a small part of me dies. There, on the screen, is a photo. Not just any photo . That filthy little brat just slipped her phone underneath the table she’s sitting at and snapped a photo of her goddamn pussy.

Unable to tear my eyes away from it, a whimper works its way up the back of my throat.

Me: Get your shit and meet me outside, around the corner in 5 minutes.

Before the bartender can return with my drink, I toss some money onto the counter and turn, planning my escape so I can leave without being noticed. But honestly, with the big guy downstairs calling the shots, right now I don’t even fucking care.