Play With Me (Playing for Keeps #2)

My eyes sweep over Jennie, sandwiched between Cara and Olivia. Between the three of them, they appear to have bought the entire snack bar.

Jennie looks alarmingly pretty today. Hair down instead of in one of her signature braids, her thick chestnut tresses roll in waves around her shoulders, highlighting her broad smile and deep dimples when she laughs. She’s also wearing a skintight tee that, as Jaxon mentioned, showcases her stellar rack. I bite my tongue to keep from bragging that I’ve tasted them.

Looking away, I nab a puck, spin around the net and stuff it behind Adam. “She’s off-limits.”

“Yours?”

“No.”

“Then I guess she’s not off-limits.” His grin is self-assured, and I can’t wait to wipe it off.

I smile back at him, extra megawatt. “Hey, Carter?” I call as he zooms by us, using his stick as a guitar. “What’s Jennie’s relationship status? Asking for a friend.”

“Nobody touches my baby sister.” It’s half scream, half song, and Jaxon’s face falls. “Oh hey.” Carter follows me to the bench and leans on his stick, popping a pink bubble in his mouth. “Speaking of Jennie. Can you ride home with her tonight? I don’t like the idea of her taking an Uber late at night by herself.”

My first thought is the backseat of a car late at night is the last place I should ever be with Jennie. My second is she’s a grown woman who’d likely lose her shit if she knew Carter was organizing supervised rides home for her. My third thought is—oh fuck.

“Your sister’s coming to the party tonight?”

Carter nods, and my pulse thunders.

“Why is Jennie coming?” I accidentally ask out loud as Emmett joins us.

He gestures to where the girls are cackling on about something. My eyes lock with Jennie’s before I immediately tear them away. “’Cause she’s one of Cara’s best friends?”

“Since when?” I stupidly demand rather than just saying, Sure, I’ll ride home with her.

“Uh, since Olivia and Carter started dating, and now the three of them spend all their time together?”

“Oh. Right.” Fuck. I look to Carter and start waving one floppy, gloved hand through the air. I might as well be holding a neon sign that reads I ate your sister’s pussy and liked it. “Um, I think I’m gonna…drive.” I wasn’t going to, but if Jennie’s gonna be there, I absolutely need to stay sober. I can’t have alcohol impeding any of my decision-making capabilities—which are already flawed and weak—because I’ll try to talk myself into a place I want to be but shouldn’t, like between her thighs while I locate her G-spot with the tip of my tongue, or my cock. Plus, Jennie doesn’t drink, and being supportive of that feels like the right move in our fucked-up friendship.

“Perfect. You can take her home.” Carter cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Hey, Jennie! Garrett’s gonna give you a ride tonight!”

Give her a ride? That’s exactly what I want to do and what I’m actively trying to avoid. Instead, I attempt to swallow down my entire Adam’s apple as I meet Jennie’s gaze.

At least she looks as terrified as I am about what type of ride I might take her for.

I wonder which one of us has better self-control.





CHAPTER 11





PLAY WITH ME





GARRETT





How the fuck did she get those on?

Judging by the way I’m trying to decide on a plan of attack for getting her out of them, Jennie’s high-waisted jeans appear to be painted over her round ass and wide hips. I’m not allowed to undress her though.

But these fucking jeans. The tight, washed-out denim flares below her knees, and I swear those legs go straight to heaven. I’m already mentally cataloging all the different ways I can wrap them around me (hint: position number one is over my shoulders). She’s also wearing this stupid crop top that shows off her stupid belly button, and all I’m thinking about is shifting that shitty excuse for a shirt up and swirling my tongue around the tiny plum-purple gem that dangles there.

I need to get her the fuck out of my system.

“You don’t drink?”

“Huh?” I drag my gaze away from Jennie, unimpressed that it’s Jaxon Riley who’s made me do so.

He gestures at the can of sparkling cherry-flavored water in my hand. “You’re drinking water.”

“I’m driving tonight.”

“Why?”

So I don’t make any captain’s little sister–sized mistakes that have the potential to prematurely end my career via shattered bones?

“Uh, ’cause?” is the intellectual response I give him.

Jaxon’s gaze follows mine as it bounces back to the girl in question, and he smirks. Leaning next to me, he murmurs, “The thing about her being Carter’s little sister is that he’s only my captain, whereas he’s one of your best friends. Where she’s off-limits for you, she’s free game for me.”

I snort. “Good luck walking outta here with that type of logic.”

“Tell ya what. I’ll make you a bet.”

“No.” I’m not entertaining this jackass. “What’s the bet?” I’m entertaining him a little.

“I get her to come home with me tonight.”

My grip on my can tightens. “I think the fuck not.”

“Because you want her?”

“Because you’ll fuck her once and ghost her, and we’ll be short a defenseman when Carter knocks you the fuck out.” I drain my can and crush it between my hands. “Jennie deserves better.”

Jaxon grins, pulling two beers from the ice in the kitchen sink. He tosses his words over his shoulder as he wanders toward Jennie. “I’ll treat her real nice, Andersen. Promise.”





JENNIE


I’m highly unimpressed with the state of Olivia’s bladder. She’s left me here alone, and I’m about to have to be friendly with a fuckboy.

The new trade saunters toward me, a smug grin on his smug face. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Jaxon.”

I lift my sparkling water to my mouth. “I know who you are.”

Speaking loosely, of course, about having to be friendly.

Jaxon Riley, NHL bad boy, fuckboy extraordinaire, and Vancouver’s newest defenseman, chuckles, taking his hand back. “All right. That’s cool. I know who you are too.” He offers me one of the beers laced between his fingers. “Brought you a beer.”

“I don’t drink.”

I catch a snort of laughter, and my gaze flits over Jaxon’s shoulder, finding Garrett’s amused eyes on us. I’m not proud to say I suddenly become a lot more interested in the man in front of me.

Jaxon’s nice to look at, so it’s not an onerous task. All messy brown hair, hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a full sleeve of tattoos decorating his left arm, I’m entirely into it. Top-shelf Flickapedia material, without a doubt. A welcome reprieve from the mental image I’ve been flicking it to every single night since Garrett destroyed me after catching his name leaving my lips.

I lean into the new defenseman, squeezing his forearm, and drop my voice to a purr. “But thank you so much for thinking of me. That’s incredibly sweet of you.”

His smirk is too proud. “That’s why they call me Sugar.”

I inwardly roll my eyes, trailing my fingertip over the flowers decorating the cuff of Jaxon’s wrist as Garrett crushes his can in his fist and reaches for a new one. “Really? I heard that was for an entirely different reason.”

Jaxon takes the bait, stepping into me. “Dessert might be my favorite meal of the day.”

“Mmm…” I bat my lashes while Garrett aggressively chugs his water. “Mine too.”

I spy the platter of double fudge cupcakes sitting on the counter, right next to Garrett’s elbow. I walk toward him, his face heating the closer I get.

Becka Mack's books

cripts.js">