Page 32 of The Wrong Game

But I’d never met anyone like her, and I’d had more fun in the few hours we’d spent together than I’d had in the past twelve years.

If she thought I was letting go that easy, she was in for a rude awakening.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open, and as I stepped inside, I readjusted my still-hard cock under my shorts. I could still taste Gemma on my tongue, feel her writhing under my touch, and there was no way that after that first taste I was just going to walk away from her.

There was another home game next Sunday — just one week away — and Iwouldbe there beside her. One way or another, I’d be there.

That was a promise I could keep.

Gemma

“I think you should see a therapist.”

Belle was dead serious as she judged me over the cup of coffee I’d just poured her on Monday morning. I laughed, shaking my head and filling my own cup before rummaging in the fridge for creamer. She came over before work every morning, but she’d comeextraearly today — punishment for me ignoring all her texts last night.

She wanted the dirt, and I wasn’t escaping until I gave it to her.

“Why do I need to see a therapist?” I asked. “Because I stuck to the planyouset in place for me?”

“No, because you kicked a tall, sexy, pussy-rocking god out of your apartment right after he ate you out like he hadn’t eaten in weeks and you were a steak dinner.”

“That’s what I was supposed to do!”

“No,” Belle said, holding up one manicured finger in protest. “What you weresupposedto do is have fun, watch football with a new friend, and get an orgasm that wasn’t battery-operated. Where in that plan was there any fine print that said you had to boot the poor guy out before his lips were even dry from eating you out? Or that you weren’t allowed to see him again?”

“If I saw him again, it would be more than just a game with a friend. It would bedating. Which, as we discussed, is off the table.”

“Why is getting banged more than once by the same guy dating?” Belle argued. “I see it more as insurance. I mean, youknowhe’s fun, you know he’s going to stand up for you if shit goes down at the game, and you also know he’s going to rail you until the headboard breaks, if you give him the chance.”

I laughed. “God, he really would.”

“I KNOW. So, let the guy, for the love of Christ.”

“I can’t,” I said, folding my hands over the steaming mug of coffee as I took the barstool next to Belle.

“Why not,” Belle whined, kicking her little feet.

I laughed. “Because, okay?” My smile slipped, heart squeezing like the ghosts of my past had just wrapped it in a tight fist. I traced the handle of my mug with my pointer finger, swallowing. “I’m just not ready to take it past a one-night thing right now, okay? Last night was fun, but it was also really hard for me.” I looked at my best friend then, pleading for understanding. “Maybe I’m being stupid, or crazy, but I’m trying. And right now, this is what I’ve got to give. We agreed — a different guy every game.That’sthe plan I made, that’s what I agreed to, and that’s what my heart and my head have been able to wrap themselves around. I can’t see past that right now.”

Belle watched me, eyes softening under bent brows as she reached over and squeezed my knee. “For the record, Idothink you’re crazy for not seeing him again,” she said with a sigh. “But, I also have no idea what it’s like to go through what you have. And even if I don’t get it, I support you. Always.”

I covered her hand on my knee and squeezed. “Thank you.”

“So, does this mean it’s time to pick the next guy?” Belle bounced in her chair, waggling her brows.

“I can see you’re still really heartbroken over my decision,” I mocked, sliding my phone across the counter toward her. “Here, why don’t you see if shopping for the next one makes you feel better.”

“Retail therapy?” Belle pressed a hand to her heart, pretending to be touched. “My favorite. Youdolove me.”

“Shut up and swipe.”

She lit up as soon as the screen on my phone did, pulling up the dating app as I rolled my eyes and took the first sip of my coffee. As the hot liquid settled in, warming my bones, Belle swiped and remarked on the messages I’d gotten over the week.

But all my thoughts drifted to Zach.

Last night had been everything I thought itwouldn’tbe. It was fun. It was easy. It was comfortable. I’d laughed more than I had in months, and I’d had Zach’s face buried between my legs until I came in what I was almost positive was the best orgasm I’d ever had.

Literally, ever.