Challenge (Harris Brothers, #1)

by Amy Daws

In fact, I’m feeling a bit of annoyance toward all the Harrises. I want Cam to have the surgery more than anyone. It’d be huge for my career, but it feels as if everyone is more concerned about football than they are about Camden.

“I came in to check on you and found you passed out in the shower!”

“I thought you were having a seizure or something.”

“Or are you too shy?” His expression is knowing, as if he’s certain there’s no way I’ll strip down in front of him. Because of that, some dark place inside of me wakes up. I want to wipe that smirk off his face and prove I’m not some innocent, naïve little girl he can predict.

I’m putting a stop to that right now. With this kiss, I’m determined to remind her what it means to be mouth-fucked by Camden Harris.

“After I’m out of here and you don’t have the stress of getting caught hanging over you, we’re going to do this. And I’ll make it better than good, Indie. I’ll make it so great that when I walk away, you’ll compare every bloke you ever meet to me.”

“You need to get some clothes on because I just pictured pulling that towel off and motor-boating your tits.”

“So this is just for the sleep. You’ll sleep so much better here, and it’s important you’re at your best when you operate on London’s sexiest footballer tomorrow.” “I’ve met all your brothers, Cam. Are you entirely sure you hold that title?”

I went to school for so long, and now that I’m an actual doctor, I decide to shack up with a patient? This is insanity.

“I’m processing. My sweet, perfect student, Indie Porter, has gone rogue on me. You skipped like eighteen steps, darling. I thought we made this list and these rules so you would know exactly what to do.”

Defence mechanism or not, I’ve never felt more alone in my life.

So when Prichard stroked my cheek in the scrub room in front of the entire surgical staff, it took everything I had not to knee him in the balls.

I nod and smile politely at Prichard, even though I want to be a cold bitch to him. I can’t lose my spot on the follow-up surgery in a month, so I plan to avoid any personal interaction with him until then.

When I first met Camden, he was warm and playful. Charming even. I escaped into a secret world where I was wild and carefree and broke all the rules. I laughed a lot.

Booker and I are leaving right now for our last match, but I swear I’ll skip it if this is how you’re going to be while we’re gone.”

“Nothing. I don’t give a toss about football right now. I care about you. You’re acting weird and depressed or something. I actually considered buying you a puppy today for Christ’s sake.”

It’s not that the woman did not know how to juggle, she just didn’t have the balls to try.

surgery. I keep trying to convince myself that maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me in the OR, but his mood shift begs to differ.

I can’t let him or anyone revert me back to that guileless, insecure girl ever again. That’s not who I am anymore.

“You have to admit he’s got a creep factor to him.” “But you luring a naïve doctor into your patient room at night is so innocent?”

My Penis List is finally going to start. Tequila Sunrise, baby.

I know Gareth’s not gay because I’ve seen his porno collection. But he’s almost thirty and, truth be told, I’ve never seen him with a girl.

Booker thinks he’s celibate for football. I think he’s got a secret girl in Manchester.

While my brother orders us drinks at the bar, my gaze scans the dance floor for a red, messy bun, preferably surrounded by happy gay men and not straight, trolling blokes.

I put the bottle to my lips and nearly choke when my gaze lands on the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.

thought Indie Porter was hot in scrubs and messy hair. The woman standing before me now is completely out of my league.

I can’t help but smile at his arrogance. “You came all the way here, to Club Taint, to tell me you want more sex?”

Everything I remembered about our first kiss, and the second kiss, and the third kiss…is gone. Erased. The bar has been risen so high, all the other bars have disappeared.

Now, with her lips fire engine red and pouty, every bloke in this club had to be checking her out, gauging their odds and how much work it would take to shag her. So I had to kiss her.

It was either kissing her or peeing on her so every guy knew to back the fuck off. Indie Porter belongs to Camden Harris.

Plus, if we don’t bring women home, there’s never the whole awkward “do I have to offer her coffee” sort of vibe. Making coffee for a girl is basically like getting down on one knee—something I can’t even fathom doing.

Tanner is gone and, right now, I want to see how Indie Porter looks on my bed.

“I envisioned you were tonight when I was dancing with some bloke.” My jaw clenches. “I don’t need to hear about you dancing with other guys.”

“Can we…maybe not…cuddle?” My voice is weak, my body frigid. Camden pulls back and frowns down at me. “Okay. That’s a first.”

For someone who likes space, her subconscious evidently hasn’t received the memo.

but I did ask about intercourse and he indicated it was a grey area. I took that as a resounding go ahead.

I’m drowning in deep, dark, delirious destiny. I’m in a place I never want to leave. A place I never want to say goodbye to. A place I never want to let go. Just sinking further and further into a world I’ve never known.

We brush our teeth next to each other like two normal folks. I mean, never mind he just took my virginity and gave me an earth-shattering orgasm to boot.

“That was the best sex of my life, Camden Harris. Is that what you need to hear?” “That was the only sex of your life, Indie Porter.”

“Cam, I wouldn’t feel right operating on you if your sister knows we’ve—” “Had the best sex of your life?” he finishes. “Yes!”

“Then that’s all that matters. Forget the rest. You’re in it for the sex. Not the coffee.” She winks naughtily at me.

He frowns and a low rumble comes from his chest. “You say a lot of things about yourself are daft, do you know that?” His eyes pin me with a serious glower.

I try not to take it personal that this room impresses her more than the pitch.

Her talking about other men again is not amusing. “What the fuck is Penis Number Two?”

For some bizarre reason, the notion feels like razors in my stomach as it tumbles out of my mouth.

Tanner steps in front of my path to the hallway and places both hands on my shoulders, gripping them firmly. But it’s not to stop me. It’s not to scold me. It’s to show me that he hears me.

My clothes are more casual than his because I didn’t realise he was playing dress up.

A girl could get used to a Penis Number Two type maybe. But he can’t fool me. A zebra can’t lose its stripes.

He’s obviously releasing something that weighs heavily on him; but, out of nowhere, the twelve-year-old girl inside of me begins to weep, which is odd because I’ve never allowed myself to feel upset over something I’ve never known.

What happens next is like nothing I ever imagined. Expected. Or asked for. Camden Harris makes love to me.