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—Holly—
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I smoothed down my dress after stepping from the Uber. Bobby called me soon after I left the Bears’ clubhouse, inviting me out to dinner with him and some of the guys. Half an hour after I accepted, I received a borderline irate call from Scout ranting about my need to stay away from Isaiah Morillo.
I’d laughed it off and told Scout he was overreacting, but when I found him waiting for me outside the restaurant, his scowl hadn’t budged.
“Hi, Scout.”
“Hey, Hols. You look beautiful.”
We hugged, then he guided me through the fancy entrance with a firm hand on the middle of my back.
“We need to talk,” he murmured close to my ear.
“No, we don’t,” I replied out the corner of my mouth.
“Really, we do. Isaiah—”
“I’m not a child, Scout.”
“I know, but—”
“Holly!” My name being called cut him off, and I turned to find Isaiah’s dazzling grin.
He splayed his arms wide while approaching. “My god, you’re stunning!”
“Thank you.” I tugged out of Scout’s possessive hold and accepted Isaiah’s hug, noting how his large hand lingered low on my hip.
“How you doin’, Gats?” Isaiah asked over my shoulder.
Scout cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “Good, man.” He then turned to me. “Come choose a drink, Hols.”
I rolled my eyes when he blatantly took my elbow and squeezed in warning. With my direction being forced, I craned my neck to apologize to Isaiah as Scout propelled me toward the bar.
“Please give us a moment.”
Being manhandled by Scout was wearing thin and as soon as we reached the bar, I faced off with him.
“You need to stop shoving me this way and that. I’m this close to getting pissed off.” I held my fingers in a pinch. My uncle’s concern over Isaiah soiling my virtue was utterly displaced.
Satisfaction twinged when remorse swept through my uncle’s expression. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I feel unjustifiably protective of you. Dusty would beat the fuck out of me if anything happened to you while under my care.”
My perfect eyebrows practically hit my hairline. “I’m not under your care. I’m here for business, not to be babysat. I’m twenty-three, for fuck’s sake.”
He had the sense to look embarrassed. “Fuck, I know! But every time Isaiah looks at you, my blood begins to boil. Thank God I don’t have kids, let alone daughters.”
I scoffed. “Isaiah’s just being friendly.”
Scout snorted and looked up at me from under his brows. “Trust me, Hols, he ain’t just wanting to make friends.”
A warm thrill rushed through my belly, and I couldn’t help but grin.
Scout pointed a finger. “Don’t do it, Holly. That’s the last warning that comes from me.”
“Thank God for that.” I breathed out dramatically, pulling a chuckle from Scout.
“Now, what would you like to drink?”
I ran my eyes down the cocktail list, then tapped a manicured fingernail on the one I wanted. “Cosmopolitan, please.”
Scout nodded, caught the bartender’s attention, and placed our order. With the team’s bar tab already underway, we made our way to our designated table in the private function area away from prying eyes.
My gaze sought out and connected with Isaiah’s as soon as we neared the table. Ned, Isaiah, and two other players—JT Holden & Ants Starling—were already seated, and Isaiah was the first to rise and pull out a chair.
Scout grumbled something under his breath, so I seared him with an icy glare before gracefully accepting Isaiah’s invitation to sit next to him.
“Thank you,” I said sweetly.
He flashed an irresistible grin. “The pleasure is all mine, Holly.”
Scout sat opposite us—probably to “keep an eye on things”—but soon fell into a conversation with his teammates.
“I’ve never seen him so uptight,” came Isaiah’s drawl from my right.
I side-eyed Scout while replying. “Me neither. He’s normally pretty chill, but today he’s been a fucking grump.”
Isaiah chuckled; a low, deep rumble that came free and easy. “You mean the world to him, that’s why. He’s just protectin’ his own. I’d do the same.”
My eyes met the star batter’s. The deep-brown depths echoed his smile while delving directly into my soul, shortening my breath, and pushing my body temperature high.
“I understand, but he doesn’t need to, though,” I murmured. Forbidden attraction lured me into Isaiah’s space. My brain issued warnings my body refused to acknowledge. Willingly caught within Isaiah’s heady cologne, I subtly inhaled his intoxicating scent and barely held back a groan.
“I know that, but he refuses to believe it.” His attention dropped to my mouth and lingered. “So... about you ’n me.”
I looked up from under my lashes. “What about us?”
Isaiah ran his tongue over his lower lip while contemplating me with his dark gaze. “You ’n me should have a little fun. You know... on the down-low.”
My fingers sought the delicate stem of my Cosmo glass, and I snickered. “You’re scared of Scout, aren’t you?”
He tucked his chin. “Him?” A chuckle hit me in my belly full of butterflies. “I ain’t scared of Gats—he’s a kitt’n compared to what I’m used to.”
“Oh yeah?” I took a sip of my cocktail.
Isaiah angled closer, sending a fresh wave of his masculine scent over me. “Yeah, Mama, for real. Besides, he’s already not happy with me hanging out with you tonight, so I doubt he’d be thrilled to know there’s—potentially—more.”
I stared into his chocolate eyes and couldn’t help but fall further for his charm. Being called Mama should have turned my stomach, but the two syllables coated in Isaiah’s honeyed tone had my pulse quickening.
He slung an arm across the back of my chair and upped the sex appeal. “So, whaddya say? Wanna hang out? Have a little fun.”
Fingertips feathered across the bare angle of my shoulder, sending a shudder of longing down my spine. Isaiah felt it and smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing.
I pouted and studied him for a moment, contemplating my options. Not only was Isaiah Morillo a sweet-talking, honey-skinned Adonis, the playboy came with a long history of fooling around. However, that wasn’t to say I wasn’t down for a little fun; I was a hot-blooded woman who appreciated a sexy hookup as much as the next.
“No strings?” I finally suggested.
While nodding, his smirk pulled into a knowing grin. “No strings.”
I dipped my head closer. “Scout cannot find out about this. There can be zero clubhouse bragging.”
Isaiah went to speak, but I cut him off. “Seriously, like none.”
“Bossy,” he drawled. “I like it.”
“Good, because there’s plenty more where that came from.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “I’ll let you think you’re in charge right now, but as soon as our clothes come off, that’s my domain.”
A flush of heat crept up my neck as he dug into his pocket. A folded, torn strip of paper was then offered my way, scissored between his fore and middle fingers.
“This is my personal number. Don’t give it out to anyone. If it’s leaked, you’re going to be clubhouse gossip, to hell with Scout.”
I lifted my chin defiantly, not scared of his attempt to call the shots. “Fine, but if I become clubhouse gossip, this number is getting spread far and wide.”
Low laughter churned around me and he offered his hand. “Holly, I do believe we have a deal.”
With my hand in his sealing our arrangement, I officially went from casual-sex novice to casual-sex queen.
I glanced over at Scout to see him giving us an inquisitive look while half-listening to JT. I gave him a cheeky wave, then took a sip of my Cosmo.
“You know...” Isaiah drawled. “...if you weren’t the guest of honor, I’d drag you from this restaurant and have my meal elsewhere. I can’t wait to see those red lips of yours wrapped around my—”
I hastily swallowed a second sip of my cocktail. “Lower your voice!” I whisper-exclaimed, shooting mortified glances in all directions.
Having caught my hasty movements, Scout’s eyes narrowed again.
Isaiah simply chuckled and set a large hand just above my knee. The warm, forbidden touch spoke of promises and desires to be fulfilled.
“Just can’t wait to get my hands on you, that’s all,” he murmured.
A wave of womanly seduction had my confidence peaking, and I smiled to myself while lifting the cocktail to my lips again. “You’ll just have to wait.”
Needy fingers danced circles on my inner thigh. “Come outside for a minute?”
“Why?” I asked innocently.
“I could say it was just to talk, but that’s bullshit. C’mon outside for a minute, Mama.”
I considered him for a moment, then drank the last of my Cosmo and set the empty glass down. Ignoring Scout’s sharp attention following my every move, I stood and left the table as Isaiah excused himself.
We’d barely rounded the bar and stepped out of sight before his hot hand connected possessively with my lower back. Being propelled into the small, dimly lit courtyard had anticipation lighting my veins, yet the fresh air made me shiver.
Before I could speak, Isaiah tugged me into his chest. Urgency in his movements crushed me close and his mouth slammed onto mine as if unable to wait a second longer.
Fervor like I hadn’t experienced had my nails clawing at his clothing. I kissed back with blind recklessness. Impatience took over. To hell with the shouts of caution vying to be heard at the back of my mind. How long could we push this? How far could we go? None of that mattered while my body ached for his.
The intensity had me gasping for air every chance I got, then hungrily re-meeting his mouth for more. Isaiah’s hands roamed the length of my inner thigh as our lips spliced and tongues delved.
“Fuck, you’re turnin’ me on,” he growled against my mouth. “I knew you’d be fucking fire once I got my hands on you.”
“I want more,” I panted, tipping my head back to catch my breath.
Isaiah’s sharp hiss had me smiling. “You’re telling me. Feel this?”
I grinned when he thrust his obvious erection against the apex of my legs.
“Oh god, we need to stop, but I want to keep going,” I whispered, voice shaky.
With one sleek motion, he smoothed his hand along my jaw and claimed my mouth all over again. My fingernails caught on his short hair as I raked them across his head, making him hiss and thrust his erection harder against my core.
Arousal scrambled my senses, pushing me closer to the cusp of not giving a fuck. To the place where situational awareness and inhibitions disappeared.
The hand tracing down my body, then smoothing up my inner leg again had me torn between clamping my thighs together and widening my stance.
I whimpered with need, wanting my aching clit to be touched so badly but fighting for control. His finger flicked against my panty-clad core once, then withdrew. With a frustrated growl, Isaiah physically tore himself away and backed up multiple paces.
My pulse raced, and I fought hard for every breath. My face burned from both lingering arousal and realization of what we just did. I pressed a hand to my swollen lips and watched Isaiah pace the courtyard, fingers linked behind his head and elbowed splayed wide.
“I’m not gonna make it through dinner without wanting to touch you again, Mama.” He whirled in my direction. “Fuck, I already do.”
I smoothed the obvious wrinkles from my dress and tugged the hemline lower. “Tell me about it. You’ve got me all heated and needy with literally hours to wait.” When I looked up and saw him smirking, I halted. “What’s that look for?”
“Just thinking about all the ways I’m gonna make a meal out of you. I bet your pussy is as sweet as your mouth.”
I felt the blush rising up my neck again and was unable to do a damn thing to stop it. Instead, I sauntered up to him. His hand splayed on my hip and flexed when I leaned close.
“Don’t forget wet and aching. I can feel it pulse with every step I take.” With that, I stepped away and didn’t look back as I strode to the bathroom, chin up and shoulders back, needing to assess the damage to my makeup.
Anticipation over fucking Isaiah later tightened an invisible belt around my chest. He’d worked me up so much that I now couldn’t wait until this dinner was over.
A chunk of that confidence dissipated the instant I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair had stayed in place, but my lipstick was an absolute train wreck. Once perfect and sexy, it was now nothing but an unpleasant red smear from nose to chin.
I cursed myself for not having my handbag with me. Within it lay a tiny makeup kit for touch-ups during a night out. Ironically, the one time I desperately needed it, I didn’t have it with me. Instead, I dampened a paper towel and dabbed at the stain on my upper lip, becoming more mortified by the second when it did nothing to remove the unsightly smudges.
“Fuck,” I hissed, tossing aside the paper towel and setting my hands on the counter. Surveying my reflection did nothing to A) fix it, or B) provide me with answers on how to resurrect my makeup without the necessary tools.
Much to my dismay, the bathroom door opened with a loud squeak. I ducked my head, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but when the door banged closed and the click of her heels brought her closer, I glanced up.
Tall, slim, and dark-haired, the woman’s eyes flicked over me, and her blatant snicker said it all: I was fucked.
With no other choice, I broke the ice. “You don’t happen to have any makeup with you, do you?”
She smiled widely—all perfectly straight teeth and gorgeous—and dumped her handbag in front of her. “I do. You’re in need of a little touch-up, just...” She swirled a finger at my mouth and smirked knowingly.
“I hate to think what his mouth looks like.” I grimaced, making her laugh while she dug through the little designer bag.
“Red is the most unforgiving color...” She offered her lipstick—the same dark shade of seduction coating her lips. “That’s why I love it so much. I’ve got some wipes, concealer, and foundation in here too.”
My entire body sagged in relief. “You’re an absolute savior.”
“Anytime, babe. I’m all for queens helping queens. I’m Remmy, by the way.”
I met her green eyes through the reflection. “I’m Holly. It’s nice to meet you. I really can’t thank you enough.”
“You’re so welcome. Let me pee then I can help fix your makeup if you need.”
“Thank you.” I set to work with a wipe, removing as much of the staining as I could before dabbing on a thin layer of foundation with my middle finger.
When Remmy emerged from the stall, she looked me over while washing her hands. “You’ve done a good job of rectifying that. It was a fucking disaster.”
“Isn’t it the most embarrassing?”
“Girl,” she deadpanned. “Ain’t that the truth?”
I looked between her makeup and wipes and her little handbag. “I can’t believe you manage to fit so much in there.”
She gave me a wry little smirk. “There’s always room for essentials, babe. Although, the wipes are usually used when—”
A hard knock on the bathroom door severed our conversation, and I gasped in horror when Scout barged in.
“What the fuck, dude?” Remmy yelled, matching my own exclamation.
Scout froze mid-stride, taken aback by the icy greeting and two confrontational females. His eyes pinged back and forth between us before settling on me.
“Sorry, I thought you were in here alone. What’s taking so long, Hols?”
“Uh, I’m in the fucking bathroom, that’s what,” I snapped.
“I thought Isaiah was in here with you.”
My face crinkled with outrage to mask the truth from showing. “We’ll he’s obviously not, so...” I threw up my hands.
Scout shifted his focus to Remmy. “Hey,” he said with a quick chin-lift.
I saw her quirk a dark brow through the mirror reflection. “You done?”
He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah. Are you?”
Remmy let out a sinister little laugh. “Depends on if your arrogance is gonna back the fuck out of that door yet.”
Scout’s reaction took me by surprise: instead of snapping a sharp comeback, he lowered his chin and eyed Remmy up and down with a look that could only be described as primal. It was the same look in Isaiah’s eyes when we first met.
I waved my hand, reminding Scout of my presence. “Scout, hello! Get out of the women’s bathroom!”
His gaze cut to me and instantly sobered. “Uh, yeah. Right. See you out there.” With one last longing look at Remmy, he turned and exited the bathroom as suddenly as he arrived.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh my god, I must apologize for my uncle.”
Remmy snickered. “Talk about tall, dark, and broody. He’s hot.” She then pointed at the little packet of travel wipes. “He’s also the type of guy that has me carrying those in my handbag. One can never be too prepared for a one-night stand.”
My eyes widened with agreement. “Right! I should start doing that too for the just in case situations. But ugh, Scout’s hypocrisy actually astounds me. Growing up in a family of protective men who have a habit of barging into bathrooms is a damn curse.”
Ghosts passing behind Remmy’s green irises. “At least they have your back, Holly. Some of us have to stick up for ourselves.”
“I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it.” She waved a hand. “My shit has made me stronger.”
I applied her red lipstick to my lips, then gathered up her makeup. “I’m sorry to rush, but I do need to get back out there. Thank you so much for saving me from the most mortifying situation.”
She smiled warmly and touched my arm. “I got you, girl.”
“Thank you! Have a great night.”
“You too,” she called as I made for the door.
Once out in the restaurant again, I pulled my shoulders back and approached the table under Scout’s and Isaiah’s scrutiny.
As I slid into the seat beside Isaiah, my body heated without warning. It all came rushing back: the intensity, the hunger, the feel of his erection grinding on me. While lifting the fresh Cosmo that sat waiting for me, I stole a glance at Isaiah while trying to act like we didn’t just dry fuck in the courtyard.
A renewed shiver speared down my spine as he leaned close. “Took me forever to scrub your lipstick off my mouth, Mama.”
“Oh my god, same! My makeup was ruined,” I whispered back.
“So is my self-control. I can’t fucking wait to touch you properly.”
“Neither can I.” Internally grinning, I took an emphasized sip.
Isaiah cursed and set his elbows on the table. “Who else is coming?” he barked, pulling all attention our way.
Ned flicked his wrist to check the time. “Just Bobby. Surely he can’t be far away.”
I snickered when Isaiah muttered his displeasure. Setting my cocktail down, I angled his way. “So, tell me something, Isaiah: would you have voluntarily come out to dinner with Ned and Bobby any other time? If it wasn’t for me, I mean?”
He smirked while lifting his beer glass, then looked me dead in the eye. “Not a fucking chance.”
