2

She turned toward me, and I almost spilled my beer.

Fucking hell.

There was gorgeous—celebrities, models, social media stars.

And then there was her.

She had long black hair that seemed to never end. A petite, trim, well-taken-care-of body. Pouty, thick lips with a breathtaking smile and these screaming blue eyes that wouldn’t let you look away.

A kind of beauty that made my mouth part, but nothing came out of it.

“So, who’s the mess?” she asked me. “Or more importantly, who’d you take?” She grinned as she waited for my response, the glossiness of her lips taunting me. When I still said nothing, she continued, “I’ve got five hundred on Miami. I took the moneyline, parlayed the bet with the over.” She pretended to fan herself. “I’m trying not to sweat it out, but it would be a serious travesty if I lost.”

She knew gambling and basketball.

Goddamn it, that was sexy.

All I wanted was to keep her talking, so I could continue gazing at her mouth—the way it almost pulsed as she inhaled, how her tongue licked the corner of her lip, how they widened to take in the straw, sucking the plastic as she took a drink.

My dick was so fucking hard.

“I think you’ve got yourself a safe bet,” I told her, suddenly finding my voice.

Her eyes dropped down my chest before she glanced at the wall of TV screens, her profile just as beautiful. A small, sloped nose, a stunning jawline, a collarbone that jutted out, begging me to lick across it.

I needed her attention on me again, so I asked, “Why Miami?”

“I live there.” She tapped her heart. “I could never bet against them.”

“Fair enough.”

“And I go there, so I’m slightly proud.”

A college student.

Twenty-two—maybe.

If my guess was correct, I was eleven years older than her.

At eleven, I had already been telling my teachers I wanted to get into law. Even prior to middle school, I had known I was going to follow in my parents’ footsteps and take over their firm the moment they retired. A role I would share with Ford and Dominick.

But this one—this fucking beauty—wasn’t even out of the womb.

“Who did you take?” She lifted her palm in the air—the perfect size to wrap around my cock. “Don’t tell me. I want to guess.” Her lids narrowed, scanning my face. “UCLA?”

I took a quick drink. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a good guesser.” She glanced down at her lap, a look of worry etched into those fascinating eyes. “Did I take someone’s seat?”

“Why? Do you want to get up?”

Her head leaned back, exposing her throat as she laughed. “I suppose no. It is pretty comfy here.”

Ford could sit on the goddamn floor at this point—I didn’t care. There was no way I was having this girl move unless it was to my lap.

Before she glanced back toward the screens, I said, “You came all the way from Miami, huh?”

“It’s March Madness.” She moved her hair to one side, the black curls hanging past her shoulder, covering her tit. “Vegas sounded like a good place to watch it.”

“My boys and I do this every year.” I nodded toward Dominick, who was on the other side of her, and then pointed at the friends behind us—Brett, Jack, and Max, entertainment agents who hired our firm for a majority of their deals. “It’s our tradition.”

She turned, taking in their faces. “So, these guys belong to you?”

I laughed. “I’m not sure if I should answer that.”

“What about the one who almost ran into me on the way to the restroom? Does he belong to you too?” She tucked a leg beneath her ass—a part of her I was dying to fucking see. “If so, you need to get that boy some bread and coffee, stat.”

“He’s my younger brother. We cut him some slack because he’s a single dad.” I held out my hand, wanting to feel the softness of her skin. “I’m Jenner.”

To my surprise, her grip was stronger than I’d expected, her skin even silkier than I’d anticipated.

“Jo.” Her stare dipped again, this time to my mouth, lingering there for several seconds before it rose. “It’s nice to meet you, Jenner.” She sucked in her bottom lip, chewing it.

“And you … Jo.”

Her hand stayed in mine much longer than it needed to. “Did you hear about Miami’s shooting guard?”

“What happened?”

“Ankle injury. He kept it quiet, not wanting to start any rumors before the tournament. If he had sat out this game”—she shook her head—“oh man, that would have been brutal.”

“You wouldn’t be winning right now.”

She bit the end of her straw, holding it in her mouth as she said, “Oh, we would still be winning. Don’t you remember the Florida State game?” She paused, waiting for my brain to catch up. “Our shooting guard was out with the flu, and we still won seventy-one to sixty-five.”

Most of the women I was with couldn’t have this conversation. They didn’t care about sports, they weren’t loyal to any particular team, and they certainly couldn’t recall any game statistics.

But, damn it, this was hot.

“How could I forget that game?” I said. “The guard for Florida State had one of his best games, and they still couldn’t beat you guys.”

“Their guard is soft.”

I took a long drink of my beer, watching her the whole time. “Yeah? How so?”

“He sat out half the season with a broken toe.” She rolled her eyes. “Our guards could climb Everest on crutches. Nothing would stop them.”

“Except the flu.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “He was in the hospital with a hundred and five temperature and ended up with a nasty case of pancreatitis on top of having kidney stones. Stop being so tough on him. That boy’s hardly a pussy.”

She had a fight in her.

I liked that.

“Are you as knowledgeable with football?”

Her teeth tugged on her lip as she smiled. “Quiz me.”

I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than ask her some irrelevant questions.

I wanted to carry her up to my room and fuck every sports fact out of her brain.

“How about—”

The vibration of my phone cut me off.

I held up my finger, pausing our conversation, and quickly pulled my cell out of my pocket, seeing a text from Dominick on the screen.

Dominick: I’m betting 5K you fuck her in the next ten minutes. You want the over or under?

I looked around Jo to glance at Dominick, laughing before I typed my reply.

Me: Over.