Craft by Adriana Locke

Author:Adriana Locke [Locke, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Umbrella Publishing Inc.
Published: 2018-03-11T18:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Lance

“He’s a monster,” I add, not sure what more to say. Eric has been attempting to make small talk the entire meal. Two things are clear: one, he’s no Einstein and two, his sense of humor is nil.

He continues on about the new fighter out of Crew Gentry’s gym in Boston like he knows something about fighting. His terminology is all wrong, explanations of fighting styles downright backward, and he fumbles through it with the confidence that only an idiot can have. It’s kind of impressive in a strange, uncomfortable way.

Keeping an eye on Mariah, I take off my glasses and clean them with a napkin. She’s said just enough during the meal to remain polite and sophisticated. Her back, though, is rigid. Her shoulders are as stiff as a board.

While I listen to Eric babble on, I rest my arm over the back of her chair. She leans toward it. I only notice because I’m paying attention.

My hand goes to the back of her neck, working the tense muscles back and forth. My touch alone causes her to relax some, but as I press back and forth, her entire body slackens.

She molds to my hand. She bends as I press on her delicate skin and she shifts in her seat. My fingertips stroke up her spine and draw back down. Listening to Eric’s stumbling story takes more effort than I care to spare.

“I hear what you’re saying,” I say in an attempt at getting him to shut up, “but Pike isn’t as strong on the ground. I know he’s with Gentry now and that was his specialty, but he doesn’t have the skills Crew had. Not yet, anyway. Watch his footwork while he’s standing and then watch him scramble when his back hits the mat. He wants to be upright.”

“I guess you’re right.”

No shit.

Betsy’s cries can be heard softly from the living room. Chrissy shoves away from the table, but Taylor gets to her feet first. “Let me go, Chris. I can’t enough of those precious snuggles.”

Chrissy settles down across from Mariah once again. While she chitchats with Eric about Betsy’s feeding schedule, Mariah focuses her attention on me.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine. You?” she asks sweetly, like she already knows the answer. She rests her palm on my thigh. Her fingers flex against the denim, taunting me with how close she is to my cock.

I haven’t been able to erase her tease from earlier. I’ve sat the last forty-five minutes wondering just how wet she really is.

It still surprises me when she says things like that, things that remind me of Nerdy Nurse. It was sexy before, but paired with the proper librarian I know from my nine-to-five makes it perfection. This is the things songs are written about.

Dirty, raunchy, hip-hop songs.

Maybe sweet country ones too.

This is my problem.

We trade a secret smile. My hand clasps around the corner of her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. Eric’s gaze sits square on the side of my face. I want to look at him and tell him exactly what he’s missing, everything he tossed away.

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