Posey laughs. “You’re dating a smart one, Tates.”
Yeah, I am, and she’s putting up one hell of a match.
* * *
For the tenthtime in five minutes, I grind my teeth together and hold my breath as Ollie’s leg r*bs against my crotch. I know she’s doing it on purpose. There’s no other explanation, and at this point, I simply deal with it because if I try to get up, I’ll give everyone a goddamn show.
I’ve also just sat here while Posey and Ollie have hit it off completely, making me even more irritated. Apparently, they both had some magical time in a place called Canoodle in Southern California. They vacationed there separately when they were younger, but when they found out they both had been, they haven’t stopped talking about it.
“Did you see the renovated pictures of the Canoodle Cove Cabins?” Ollie asks as her hand sifts through the hair at the base of my neck, making me that much harder. Her nails are just long enough to drive me f**king crazy.
“I haven’t. They redid them?”
“Yes, I read a whole article about it. I was writing a piece about must-see small towns, and Canoodle was on there, with the cabins being the number one place to stay. They’re beautiful.”
“I need to check it out,” Posey says just as her leg r*bs against my erection once again.
Unable to take it, I lean into her ear and whisper, “Knock it the f**k off.”
She just smiles.
“What was your top place to visit?” Posey asks.
“Port Snow, Maine. Followed up by Bright Harbor. They’re neighboring towns. Especially during the holidays, it feels like you’re walking through a Lovemark movie. I love it there. You need to put it on your bucket list and stop by The Lobster Landing for some fudge.”
“F**k, I love fudge,” Posey says. He then slaps me on the leg. “Dude, we should go there this summer before we head up to Banff.”
“You realize they’re on completely opposite ends of North America.”
“Can’t afford the plane ticket? Jesus, man.”
Ollie chuckles and then p**sses her l*ps to my cheek and down my jaw. “He can be such a grouch, can’t he?”
“Should have seen him last summer. He was insufferable.”
“F**k off,” I say just as Ryot Bisley, a co-founder of The Jock Report, comes up to us.
“Hey, boys, it’s been a while.” He shakes our hands and turns to Ollie. “I’m Ryot.”
“Hello, Ryot. I’m Ollie, Silas’s girlfriend.”
Ryot smirks. “Maybe I can convince you to convince your boyfriend to join The Jock Report.”
“JP was just reminding me,” I say. “I promise, I’ll join.”
“Good, because we have fans asking about you. And you don’t have to do much. Interact as much or as little as you want.”
“It’s pretty simple,” Posey says. “I actually like reading the different posts from athletes, and those are the only posts you see, which is f**king awesome. You don’t see random commentary from others. It’s just straight from the athlete’s mouth.”
Ollie pauses her seduction and says, “That’s such a cool concept. Do you feel like the athletes can connect with their fans on a different level than, let’s say . . . Instagram?”
Ryot nods. “The great thing about The Jock Report is that we’re not using it as an advertising platform. The Jock Report is for the voices of our athletes.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you turn a profit?”
“Every athlete and team who have a profile have a shop on the platform. We earn a percentage of those shops as well as from sponsors who sponsor our top ten plays of the week and things like that. And since the feed isn’t drowned out by every interest out there, we can charge a higher price because their product will be shown.”
“Fascinating,” Ollie says. “You could really take that business model and apply it to the top markets.”
“You could. It’s something the Cane brothers are actually looking into.”
“What don’t they do?” Posey asks.
“I don’t know how they’re not exhausted, but hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just need to talk to Posey real quick about his shop on The Jock Report. Mind if I steal him away?”
“Not at all,” I say, my body cooling down from the brief pause from Ollie’s interest in The Jock Report. It’s the perfect time to stand up.
“I need another drink,” Posey says. “Come with me.”
They take off, and I lift Ollie off my leg and stand.
“Aw, are we leaving so soon? I didn’t get to get you off.”
“Not f**king funny,” I say, extremely irritated.
“I’m surprised you can stand from how hard you were. And I wasn’t even stroking you. Has it really been that long for you?”
I grip her by the waist and pull her into my chest. Talking into her ear, I say, “Just you f**king wait.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yes,” I say as I sl*p my hand into hers and pull her toward the exit.
We make our way through the crowd, trying to get away with an Irish goodbye, but unfortunately, several people stop me. And every time we stop, Ollie ends up p**ssing her br***ts into my arm, or r*bbing me in a way that she knows will turn me on, or even standing on her toes to k**s me. It’s become so obnoxious that by the time we get into my car and I start pulling away, I can feel my pulse in my ears.
“Fun night,” she says in a smarmy voice that makes me want to give her a taste of her own medicine.
She won’t want to mess with me again.
************************************
OLLIE
I don’t know if I’ve ever been more satisfied than I am at this very moment, driving back to my dorm, a fuming Silas Taters next to me.
He thought he could just charge into my dorm, demand I join him, threaten me if I don’t, then expect everything to be okay?
Ohhhhhh no.
Not this girl.
I knew going into this event with him that I would have to be reserved in what I said. Frankly, these are networking opportunities for me as well, and making a fool out of myself is not the best idea. But I knew if I turned up the heat, I could teach our friend Silas a lesson.
And I did.
I can tell he’s ready to snap from his grip on the steering wheel and the tightness in his jaw.
Guess what, Silas? You deserve it.
Don’t f**k with me.
When we pull up to my dorm, I get ready to hop on out, but when he doesn’t swing to the front of the building and parks instead, a light trickle of sweat forms on my upper l*p.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond.
He exits the car, walks over to my side, and opens my door. He then undoes my seat belt and takes me by the hand, helping me out of the car.
Uh-oh.
Once he shuts the door, he holds on to my hand tightly as if he’s afraid I might take off and maintains his hold all the way up to my dorm. When we reach my door, I turn to him and say, “Well, thanks for walking me up here, but you can go now.”
Without a sound, he takes my clutch, opens it up, and pulls out my key. He unlocks the door, parts it open, and says, “Get in. Now.”
Okay, so you remember when I was feeling fully satisfied like five minutes ago? That feeling has completely vanished as I walk into my dorm, Silas following closely.
The door closes, and I feel my body still, ready to see what he’s going to do next.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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