Fair Game (The Rules 1) - Page 29

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The other half wonders if he really could be in to me.


“You won’t stick around here for the summer?” he asks, knocking me from my thoughts.

“There’s no point. The dorms close and I can’t afford rent anywhere, not even if I had a bunch of roommates.” A breeze washes over me and I shiver, wishing I brought a sweater. I forgot my cardigan last night at the casino or whatever they call it. I should ask for Shep to look for it. I hate losing clothes, more so because I don’t want to have to replace them.

“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice soft, his expression pensive. He pushes away from his car and approaches, stopping directly in front of me. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I tilt my head back so I can look into his eyes. He’s so tall. And broad. He looks cute with the backward baseball hat on. I wonder if he used to play sports. If he works out constantly or maybe his body is naturally that amazing. “Where are we going?”

He smiles and the sight of it sends a zing of electricity through my veins. “It’s a surprise.”

“Your house?” I ask incredulously as he pulls into the driveway and waits for the garage to open. “If you think you can get me into your bed that easy, you’re sadly mistaken.” My voice comes out shaky and I clear my throat. What if that’s his real intent? Would I refuse him? I should.

I should, I should, I should.

He gives me a look. “Do you think I have a one track mind or what?”

“Well, you are a guy.” And all they think about is sex.

But here’s the problem. The more time I spend with Shep, the more I think about sex. With Shep. Only him. No one else.

What’s he like in bed? Fast and intense? Slow and methodical? Does he joke as much naked as he does clothed? Just imagining him stripping off my clothes, his mouth blazing a path along my skin, makes me uneasy. In a great but nerve wracking way. What if I don’t measure up? I don’t have any secret sexual tricks. When it comes to sex, most of the time I feel like an utter failure.

Yep, off I go. My performance anxiety is at it again.

“Right,” he practically snorts as he pulls into the garage and shuts off the engine. He turns to look at me, his hands loosely gripping the steering wheel. “And only guys think about sex.”

“Most of the time,” I agree quietly.

“And girls never think about sex.” He starts to chuckle and it’s this deep, rich sound that makes me warm inside. “I should be offended by your generalizations.”

I’m a hypocrite is what I am. I was the one who threw myself at him last night. Who agreed to see him again. Who can’t help but think about him. Naked.

“And you do realize you can have sex in places other than a bed, right? I mean, why limit yourself? You can do it against a wall. On the floor. In the back seat of my car.” He flicks his gaze to the back seat while he says that.

And instantly fuels my imagination, especially with the way he said my car.

As if he’s thinking of the two of us together. In the backseat. Right now…

“Don’t you think a bed is more…comfortable?” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation and that I’m actually encouraging it.

He stares at me quietly, his gaze dropping to my mouth, lingering there. My heart starts thumping extra hard and I lick my suddenly dry lips.

I swear he just groaned.

“Sometimes, it’s not about the comfort,” he finally says, his voice scratchy. Husky. Sexy. “Sometimes…you’re so overcome, you can’t wait to get your hands on her.”

I look at his hands, see the way they flex and shift as they still cling to the steering wheel. His palms are wide, his fingers long. They’ve touched me before and I wish they were touching me right freaking now. “Overcome?” No guy has ever acted like he’s had to have me, no matter what the cost. I wonder what that’s like.

More than anything, I wonder what that’s like with Shep.

“Well, yeah.” His fingers curl around the steering wheel tightly and he turns his head, his smoldering gaze meeting mine. “Don’t tell me you’ve never felt like that.”

I’m feeling like that right about now. Not that I can say so. “Not really,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper.

He’s quiet for so long I want to squirm in my seat I’m that uncomfortable. I look away from him, staring at my hands as I clutch them in my lap. I should’ve never said that. He must think I’m hopeless. He’ll probably start the car and drive me back to my dorm hall, drop me off and hit me with a casual, “Nice knowing you,” before he speeds off.

I know I would if I were him. I don’t measure up in more ways than I can count.

He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat and I lift my head, my gaze going to his hands as they drop from the steering wheel and he starts to move.

Toward me.

I lean back, my shoulders bumping against the passenger door, my breath catching in my throat. I look at his face, taking in his determined expression, the spark in his gaze. He looks…intense.


“Prescott! What the fuck man? Are you jacking off in your car or what?”

“Who’s that?” I practically scream, fear sending my heart into my throat. Shep falls back into his seat, muttering curse words under his breath as he reaches for the door handle and opens it, climbing out of the car.

“Fuck off, Tristan. Jesus.” Shep slams the door, leaving me alone in the car.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I smooth my hand over my hair, then rest it on my chest, my heart throbbing against my palm. I think Tristan is his cousin. Kelli gave me a run down of the people Shep’s known to hang out with and I already met Gabe.

A sharp knock sounds directly behind me and I shift away from the passenger door with a squeal, turning to find an extremely good looking guy peering at me through the window. He knocks again on the glass, flashing me a friendly smile and I try to smile back but it feels wobbly.

Shep appears by Tristan’s side, glowering at him so Tristan has no choice but to back away from the door. Shep opens it for me and I climb out of the vehicle, casting a nervous glance in Shep’s direction before I turn to Tristan. “Hi.”

Tristan smiles lazily, his perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth flashing. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Jade.” I feel my cheeks flush as Shep sends Tristan a deathly glare.

“Tristan.” His deep voice is a warning.

“I’m just being polite.” Tristan extends his hand, his expression neutral though his eyes are sparkling with mischief. “Nice to meet you, Jade. You must be the redhead Shep and Gabe keep going on and on about.”

I gape at the both of them, too stunned to say a word. They’ve been going on and on about me? What in the world? Why?

I’m dying to know why.

My cousin has the biggest mouth on the planet. I hate that guy. And I especially hate the way he keeps staring at Jade like he wants to gobble her up.

Only I get that privilege damn it.

“Where’s your restroom?” Jade asks, glancing around the giant kitchen that is perfectly clean because we never use it. Granite countertops gleam beneath the lights and the stainless steel appliances are spotless. It helps that we have a housekeeper.

Tags: Monica Murphy The Rules Romance
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