Shenanigans (Brooklyn, #6; Brooklyn Bruisers, #9)

by Sarina Bowen

Holy, holy crap. I licked Neil Drake. And I liked it.

“Neil, there are two kinds of people in the world—the kind who eat their feelings, and the kind whose feelings eat them. I think I’m the latter.”

I have it so bad for Charli that her attitude only makes her more attractive to me. Even her growl is sexy.

I’ve been attracted to her ever since that first day when she yelled at me. And last night was a game-changer. I can’t unsee that. I can’t unwant it, either.

“And we’d throw in Neil’s disability.” “Hey!” I argue. “It’s not disabled. Usually it works.” “He means your diabetes,” Charli corrects. “Not your penis.”

Everyone thinks that professional athletes are well paid. That’s really only true if you’re a man.

I’d often wondered what Neil Drake looked like naked. And now that I know, I wish I didn’t. Because he was a truly breathtaking sight.

I’ve always had the hots for Charli.

I only remember the night in blurry snippets, but I’ll never forget that I’d had my hands on her smooth skin. On her body. I’d liked it. A lot.

Eggplant is super healthy. You should have more of it in your diet.”

My inner kitty-cat had forgotten to be afraid and had rubbed herself all over Neil Drake. And she’d liked it.

A word of advice, though? If you’re set on staying out from under me, better lay off the sauce yourself. I’ve noticed you like me a lot better with a couple of drinks in you.”

“You wouldn’t make your wife sleep on the floor, would you?” “No, ma’am. A succession of nannies raised me better than that.”

We should have skipped the marriage and the whiskey and had all the sex.”

“You’re dangerous in the way that Pringles are dangerous. One of them is fine, but before you know it, half the can is gone. I have to keep my distance or risk forming bad habits.”

“You notice me, Charli. And someday soon you can notice me again at very close range.”

“I’m sure you could give away that sofa. That’s what Craigslist is for.” “I thought Craigslist was for prostitution.”

My accidental husband is super hot. At least there’s that.

“Although I once got so drunk that I pulled a testicle out of my fly instead of my dick and then peed down the leg of my pants.”

when he levels that hazel-eyed stare at me, it’s really hard to stay cool.

“Does she know you’ve had it bad for her since the first minute you met? Does she know you get all hot and bothered whenever she smiles? Does she know your eyes are always pasted to her fine ass?”

“I’m Anton Bayer. Jersey number seventy. That’s one better than sixty-nine. I also do some modeling, and I’m available for impromptu musical performances. Ask me anything.”

“Do not ever refer to a hardworking athlete as a bitch. Or any woman. Especially not my wife.”

Turns out there was a wild man inside me just waiting to get out.

And drunk logic is still logic.

I can’t lust after my fake husband. That’s just bad news.

Yup. Great form. Unfortunately, I know more about his form than I ever have before. And I’m a big fan.

I have got to stop thinking about how good Neil smells and how hot he is. Lustful thoughts are like a deep crevice—if I fall in, it will be tricky to claw my way out.

“I’ll go,” Newgate says. “I don’t have plans. And Drake is in, right, bro? Gotta watch the little woman play?”

I want to taste her again. I want to savor it this time.

I’ve been an afterthought my whole life. Just once I’d like to be somebody’s first choice.

I shouldn’t have called her doll, because there’s nothing doll-like about Charli. She’s feisty and sharp. Prickly, not warm. But when you break through all those defenses, there’s nothing better than her smile or the sound of her quick laughter when a joke lands.

I could become addicted to Neil. It wouldn’t just be the sex, either. It would be the whole package.

Her pretty face swings around toward mine, and I experience a jolt of longing. It’s the fierce look in her eye that always knocks me flat. Charli has a fighter’s energy, and it’s so fucking sexy.

Those beautiful eyes dance, and I’m in danger of falling into them.

Let’s face it, wifey. We didn’t end up wasted and half-naked together in a hotel room by accident.”

“It was drunk logic,” he says. “But that’s still logic.

“You know I’m right. Every time I look at you for longer than a second, you get all hot and bothered.” “I do not get hot and bothered,” I insist, even as I feel quite hot and very much bothered. At the same time.

“I know you’re attracted to me, and you don’t feel like admitting it. But your real problem—the thing that makes you crazy—is that you actually like me. That’s gotta drive you nuts, right?

He’s about to kiss me. I can feel it. And I’m going to let him.

Her lips part in surprise as I pull her closer to me. Then I tilt my head down and do the thing I’ve spent a lot of time trying not to do. I kiss her.

“That is not what a man says when he’s trying to get in my panties.” I lean in close to her ear. “You’re not wearing panties,” I whisper. “But if you were, they’d be drenched. Because you want me, even if you hate saying so.”

I hold her gaze. The craving I feel for her is both strong and familiar. I know she feels it, too.

His touch lights me up as brightly as the midtown buildings we’re cruising past. The city passes like a movie we’ve muted in the background. It barely seems real.

He’d been so smug. He’d said I’d beg him for it. I’d told him it would never happen. I’d been wrong.

I’m truly, deliciously caught, like a fly that finally stops struggling in the spider’s web. I’m Neil’s tonight, whether it’s a good idea or not.

“You undo me. You always have.”

“I’m not done dazzling you.” “Oh please, I think you already proved you’re a sexy beast.”

That man ravished me on the backseat of a luxury car, and I encouraged him. What the hell has come over me?

I admire his muscular body as he goes. Grrrr. Maybe if he’d put some clothes on, I could think straight.