The Way We Score: A small-town, accidental pregnancy, sports romance. (The Bradford Boys)

We’re so close, it’s painful. Garrett’s large hands hold my waist, and his hips move with mine. He’s always been a good dancer, and it’s always been fucking sexy as hell.

Our faces are close, and that kiss floods my memory. It started out gentle, but it quickly turned demanding and possessive. I was hungry—make that starving, and it was a big fat steak. The slide of his tongue against mine, the feel of his hard cock against my stomach, had me antsy and adrenalized.

All night I dreamed of what it would be like to go further. Is it possible? Would he want that? The way he’s moving right now makes me think he would. It was his idea to start kissing after all.

A Beastie Boys song starts, and the guys rush onto the floor.

“Get over here, Grizz!” Craig yells out, and a frustrated smile curls his lips.

He presses his forehead to mine. “Hold that thought.”

My lips tighten into a smile, and I nod up at him. We’ve been dancing closer and closer to the fire and now the flames are tickling my inner thighs.

“Liv!” Dylan wobbles up, still in her wedding dress, and puts a crystal tumbler of amber liquid with a bright red cherry in my hand. “I had the bartender mix this just for you. It’s called a hot cherry because you love cherries so much.”

“Ahh…” I do a U-turn with the glass and pass it right back to her. “No thanks. You know I don’t like your hot stuff.”

“It’s not pepper hot!” she cries, passing it to me again. “It’s cinnamon—Fireball and cherry bomb. Try it!”

Wrinkling my nose, I take a careful sniff. “It’s your wedding day, and I hate to disappoint you.”

“Then don’t!” she cries, holding my arm.

It doesn’t smell like pure alcohol, so I figure one tiny sip can’t hurt. I tip the glass slightly, and I’m surprised when it doesn’t burn. It’s actually pretty tasty.

“Okay!” I smile. “Thank you!”

Dylan squeals, putting her arm around my waist. “It’s named for you, Hot Cherry, now get out there and bag my brother!”

“Oh, shit,” I laugh. “Keep your voice down.”

“Please. You’ve been eye-fucking each other all night. Everybody sees it.”

My face flames red, and I look around the expansive patio. From what I can tell, the guests all seem to be pretty wrapped up in their own situationships. Even our group seems focused on their own significant others.

Zane has his arms wrapped around Rachel, who’s happily sitting on his lap. Hendrix and Raven have completely disappeared. Kimmie is passed out on Jack’s shoulder, and he’s sitting at a table with Allie, who keeps sneaking swoony glances at him.

“I think you’re the only one watching Garrett and me.” I squint an eye at her.

“Logan and I are about to leave for the guest cottage. I just want to be sure all my guests are covered.” She bumps my hip with hers. “Garrett will have the house all to himself tonight.”

Chewing my lip, I glance over to where he’s lifting Craig off his feet and shaking him up and down. I almost snort. “I need to get Mom home⁠—”

“She’s already home!” Dylan cuts in fast. “She left with Aunt Thelma a little while ago, and they dropped her off on the way to the hotel.”

“Mom left without telling me?” I’m not really mad, I guess.

“I said I’d tell you, and she said she’d send you a text.”

Lifting my phone I see her message glowing on the face saying she got back safely and to enjoy my night. My brow arches, and I sense cahoots.

“Won’t Hendrix be at the house?”

“He likes to get a hotel when he visits. He says it’s too crowded on the second floor with only one bathroom.” Dylan leans closer. “I think it’s because he doesn’t want us to know his business.”

My eyes narrow as I look down at her.

I’m about to say she sure covered all the bases when Logan walks up and catches her around the waist. “It’s time to consummate, Wife.”

“Logan Murphy, if you throw me over your shoulder, I swear…” Dylan laughs, gripping his arm.

He pulls her away, and a large hand slides onto my waist, lighting up my entire body. “Everything okay over here?”

She waves, and I turn to look up at him. “Yeah…”

His blue eyes lock on mine, and my breath disappears. Clearing my throat, I manage a smile, although now all I can think about is consummation and empty houses and this hot cherry drink has me all warm and horny.

“I could use some water.”

“Come with me.” He takes my hand, leading us in the direction he took Kimmie earlier, away from the crowd.

I follow him down a flagstone path lined with deep green bushes covered in gardenias. They’re mixed with camellia bushes that will bloom later in the season. If Mom were here, she’d be going on about perennial gardens and whatnot.

The only thing on my mind is the man holding my hand, who’s walking with a determined stride to a small, unattended bar station on the other side of a glass greenhouse.

“How did you know this was here?” I stop as he goes behind the bar and retrieves a paper cup from the cabinet.

His suit coat is long gone, and I watch the way his white cotton dress shirt stretches over his muscled chest and arms attractively. I want to untuck it from those black tuxedo pants, unbutton it, and slide my hand over his body.

“I helped Zane move some trees around last year.” He opens a silver bin and stabs the cup in what sounds like ice. “Check this out.”

He brings it up and fills it with water before handing it to me.

“What?” My eyes widen, and I bounce higher on my toes, looking at the ice nuggets filling the cup. “How does Miss Gina have Sonic ice at her house?”

“Look at this place.” He laughs, taking the cup after I finish and drinking a long sip. “She has the best everything.”

“I’m not sure she has the best everything.” I rest my elbows on the smooth wooden surface, leaning closer to him. “Her floor show can’t top a Thursday Dare Night.”

“Is that so?” He leans down, resting his elbows on the smooth wooden surface across from me and grinning.

It puts our faces on the same level, and I smile, taking the cup from him and sipping some more, crunching a soft piece of ice between my teeth. “And she definitely doesn’t have the best cooter.”

He puffs a laugh, dipping his chin to swallow the water he nearly spit out. My eyes shine, and I love that I make him laugh. He always made me laugh.

We’re close, and a comfortable pause falls between us. He puts the empty cup aside and reaches across the bar to take my hand.

“Hey, Liv.” His voice turns soft, and I watch as our fingers lace.

“Yeah?” My brow furrows.

He rotates my arm, exposing my pale forearm. He studies my skin as his palm slides higher to my elbow. My bottom lip goes between my teeth, and my chest tightens.

His gaze follows the path of his hand, and my breath stills as he lightly traces his thumb along the crease inside my elbow. It’s the lightest touch, and it sends a shiver through my stomach.

Curious blue eyes flicker to mine. “Still a sensitive spot?”

My lips press together, and I nod, blinking slowly. “You know them all.”

Holding my gaze, he lifts his hand to trace his middle finger from the hollow just behind my left ear, lightly down the side of my neck to my collarbone.

It causes me to drop my chin, and a lock of hair falls across my cheek. My eyes close briefly, and with every heartbeat, energy pulses through my body. Longing squeezes my lungs as I study his large hand holding mine.

“I haven’t felt like this in so long.”

“How do you feel?”

Hesitating, I search for the right word to describe it. Seen isn’t right. Valued is too strong. It’s something more subtle, more important. It’s how he’s always aware of what I need, like he’s watching me… the way I watch him.

A soft laugh huffs from my lips. “Like you care about me.”

He rounds the bar, coming to stand in front of me. Placing a thumb on my chin, he lifts my eyes to his. “You already knew that.”

Studying his face, dark blue eyes, fine lines, scruffy, square jaw. He’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man now, and I’m a woman.

“I guess I thought it might’ve changed.”

The muscle in his jaw moves, and the pull between us is so strong it aches. “I think when it comes to us, some things never change.”

My throat tightens, and my fingers tremble as I reach out to place my fingers on his waist, hard skin beneath soft cotton. I think about what I want—removing this shirt.

It’s reckless and bold, and I can’t stop myself. “One way to find out.”

Stepping closer, he threads his fingers in the side of my hair forcing me to look up at him. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Liv.” His voice is rough. “Because I won’t lie. I want more than a kiss from you tonight.”

My skin is electric, my nipples tight, and wet heat slips between my thighs.

Placing my hands on his broad shoulders, I curl my fingers as I match his heated gaze. “I want more than a kiss.”

His mouth covers mine before I finish speaking, and a soft whimper slips from my throat. He turns my head, and warm lips part mine, tongues curling together. Another soft noise as I pull him closer. Our teeth bump as our kiss turns hungry, and orgasm spikes in my veins.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp as those feelings, those old, intense feelings rage to life. “Where can we go?”

A growl rolls from his throat, and he cups my ass in his hands, lifting me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist, and I swear, if he wanted to fuck me right here against this bar, I’d let him.

Instead, he carries me away, farther from the music and the lights, to a small building. I can’t tell if it’s a pool house or storage shed, and I don’t care.

The door closes, and our mouths crash together again. I’m on my feet and his hands are under my skirt, sliding up my thighs as little grunts and whimpers echo in the semi-darkness. In a snatch, my underwear is gone, and I exhale a sigh as he touches me.

My fingers fumble over the buttons on his shirt desperately, starting at the top, and my mouth is on his throat, moving down to his chest as salt touches my tongue.

“Wait.” He reaches behind his neck to pull the shirt over his head in a sweep.

I exhale a sigh, but he’s wearing a damn undershirt. With a little growl, I grab the hem, shoving it higher, practically ripping it to expose his perfect body. Garrett has always been big and perfect, a lined chest and stomach lightly dusted with brown hair.

“This has changed.” I glance up at him from where my lips press against the top of his chest.

Two hands cup my cheeks, and he pulls my mouth to his for another kiss, opening mine and tasting my tongue, sucking my lip between his teeth and groaning hungrily.

“Just older, Liv.”

“Also harder,” I note, which makes him chuckle.

“I could get pretty hard for you at sixteen.” He pulls the straps of my dress down and lowers my zipper. “I jerked off so many times to this body, I’m surprised I didn’t have blisters.”

A rough moan scrapes from my throat as he lifts and kisses my breasts, pulling a hard nipple into his mouth. My fingers thread in his hair, and I’m kissing every place I can find as his hands travel lower, returning to that space between my thighs.

“When did you have time to jerk off?” I whisper, thinking about how insatiable we were back then. “Oh, fuck.”

My hips jump, and I almost forget where I am when he slips a thick digit into my core.

“Did I mention I still do?” He lifts his chin from my breasts and kisses me long and hard.

Another finger joins the first, and he slides them in and out, circling my clit with his thumb. I’m on my toes, holding his shoulders and riding his hand as his face moves to the side of my hair, to my ear.

It’s another erogenous zone, and my lips part as cascades of pleasure race down my arms.

He holds me in place, pinned against the wall by his hard body, and my orgasm is rising fast.

I want more than his hand. “Garrett…” Kissing him once more, I push against his arms.

He releases me, and I look around the dimly lit room. It’s some kind of work room, with a low counter across from us. I go to it, placing my hands on the smooth surface and looking back at him over my shoulder.

His eyes are hooded, and he comes to me, lifting my skirt higher as I lean forward and close my eyes.

“Perfect.” His voice is low, and my pussy clenches.

Large hands span my waist, and his thumbs circle my lower back before moving farther down. He squeezes my ass, parting my cheeks and opening my legs wider.

My lips part and I pant. I know what’s coming. I’ve been here before, and I know how good it feels.

Unzipping his pants causes a light touch of fabric against my oversensitive skin, and I jump, sighing softly. His hand returns to my hip, and I push up on the flat surface as his body draws closer.

Turning my head to the side, I move my hair away so he can find that place behind my ear at the back of my neck that drives me wild. His lips touch my skin and a new sensation, his scruffy beard almost makes me scream.

“This body…” His voice is low, and I’m clenching and desperate.

One hand is on my breast, kneading and pinching while the other is between my legs, fingers circling my clit.

I feel him long and hard at my backside, and I can’t wait anymore. “Please…” I gasp.

He reaches down, gripping his cock and sliding it up and down before finding the entrance. “You’re so wet for me.”

Turning more, I find his mouth, pulling his lips with mine, curling my fingers in the side of his hair.

With one firm thrust, he’s inside me, and I moan loudly, rising onto my toes with the force. He hisses a swear, holding still a moment, as I stretch to accommodate him.

My legs tremble, and I’d forgotten how completely full it is to be with him. My fingers curl against the wooden surface. His fingers stroke up and down my clit, side to side and up and around, urging my growing orgasm as his hips start to move.

“So big…” I groan, dropping my head back against his shoulder.

He kisses my neck, sucking and pulling the skin between his teeth as his face moves behind to the center of my back. Flutters break out from my core down my inner thighs, and I’m so close to coming.

I’ve never had a lover like Garrett, who knows my body this way and is so focused on my pleasure. His arms are around me, and we move the way we dance, primitive and hungry.

He moves faster, and I meet his thrusts, sending him deeper, to that place only he can find. The incredible tension, the twisting pleasure grows tighter until it’s too much.

I whimper with every hit, and he groans. He thickens, going impossibly deep, until he stops, holding me firmly against his body, pulsing deep between my thighs.

He groans through his orgasm, bending forward, his fingers still moving until I fly over the cliff, breaking with a shuddering cry. We both fall forward, and my inner walls clench and pull, spasming with orgasm as his hand holds me secure.

“Fuck, you still do it.” He gasps, lifting his chin and dragging his lips over the top of my shoulder.

I don’t know what he means, and I don’t care. I’m coming so hard, I don’t want it to end. He wraps his arm around my chest, holding my back against his front.

Sweat slips between our bodies, and I clutch his forearm, fluttering until I’m boneless. His mouth presses to my head, my ear, my neck, covering me with kisses.

As soon as I’m able to move again, he picks up his shirt, pulling it over his shoulders as he restores the buttons before helping me zip my dress.

“I have the house to myself tonight.”

I squint up at him. “So I’ve heard.”

“Seems a shame to waste it.”

Maybe this doesn’t count. Maybe it’s after midnight, and we’re only taking a quick visit down memory lane. Maybe we have our own lives in vastly different locations, and we just needed a little hit of something special.

I only know it’s been a long time since I was in this place, and I’m not ready to leave so soon. “Waste is a terrible thing.”

His hand covers mine, and he leads me quickly out the back way, down a brick path to a gate and out to his waiting truck.