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Can’t put my finger on what I’m in the mood for . . . Could be tacos and a margarita. A little online shopping? Maybe an orgasm . . . Yup. That’s it. Ding-ding-ding! Orgasm is the winner.
This woman is my sisters’ best friend, which makes her part of my circle.
And I protect what’s mine.
“Zane Richardson. And you are . . . ?”
“Nixon Sinclair.”
“Her boyfriend.”
What is it about this tiny woman that’s always made my mind spin in ways it shouldn’t?
“Mackenzie would be fine without me,” I confirm because this woman is more than capable of taking care of herself. “But she won’t need to be. My first preseason game isn’t until the following week. I’ll be escorting her.”
“Come on, Mac. You can’t walk home barefoot, and you’ve almost kissed the ground twice since you left the bar. It’s not like it’s your first piggyback ride.”
Jesus. She brings out the inner thirteen-year-old in me.
“Go inside and lock the door so I can go to bed, Mackenzie,”
“You’re not my babysitter, Nixon,”
“Nope. But I am your fake boyfriend, Mac. Now shut the damn door and lock it.”
“I’m not looking to do the dating thing.”
“Then what are you wanting to do, Nix?”
“I want to taste your come on...
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“I want to hear you scream my name as you’re coming on my cock.”
“I want to remind you just how incredible sex can be.”
“Tell me you want that too, Mac. Tell me you’re good without labels or expectations. Tell me you want what I’m proposing.”
I will never be anything but yours.”
