ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series and the Alabama Summer series. She loves curling up with a good book, drinking a ridiculous amount of coffee, and writing stories her children will never read. Daniels grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.
Tori slapped the counter and gained everyone’s attention when she started yelling, “I did not run you over, Jamie! Jesus Christ! Quit spreading lies about me!”
“It ain’t lies if it's true!” I yelled back, glaring at her.
A laugh bubbled in her throat. She tilted her head and stuck her hand on her hip. “Please. I'm sure you're still able to bang everything with a pulse, as usual, which means you’re fine. Get over it, and grow some balls. I cried less when I watched Bambi the first time.”
“Who's hungry?” Syd asked nonchalantly, moving behind her friend to round the island and stand near the stove.
I ignored her question because, what the fuck? Grow some balls?
“I gotta pair, babe,” I told Legs, reaching down and palming my shit. “You should know since you've been all up on ’em the past nine months.”
She rolled her eyes. “You're disgusting.”
I felt my mouth twitch.
And that was when, for some fucked up reason, I reverted back to my old ways with Tori Rivera, forgetting all about how much I fucking hated her and instead going full-on, hell-bent determined to get an admission out of that smart-ass mouth.
“You want it,” I countered, tipping my chin up.
She wasn’t expecting that. No more than I was. It threw her off.
Her shoulders pulled back and her lips parted.
Then, maybe to cover her tell, or maybe she didn't have control over what was flying out of her mouth either, I didn't know, but she brought her other hand to her hip, glared at me with heat flashing in her eyes, tipped forward, and shot back with attitude, “You want it.”
Well shit. This was new. Legs was challenging me and she was doing it flirting. There was no doubt in my mind.
“Sorry, babe,” I said, keeping the smirk and letting go of my junk. “Not interested. I told you yesterday, I’m done waitin’ around. But you?” I pointed my beer at her. “You’ll be beggin' for it before the month is up. Just watch.”
“Fat chance,” she snapped. “I wouldn't sleep with you if my life depended on it.”
“What's going on right now?” Syd called out, but I wasn't pausing to answer her.
I smiled at Tori, then gestured between us, explaining, “First one to break and come crawling to the other person for sex, loses.”
“Are you serious?” She laughed, not in amusement but in disbelief.
“Yeah, I’m serious,” I answered.
“You want to bet me that I'll want to have sex with you before you try and have sex with me?” she questioned, moving her finger between us. “You, the guy who has been hitting on me for nine straight months and has been rejected for nine straight months? You seriously think I'll not only want to have sex with you, but I'll beg you for it? Is that what I just heard?”
I nodded slowly. I had this in the bag. “A rule. No fuckin’ anyone unless it's each other.”
Her eyes bugged.
“And no masturbating either,” I added, raising my beer and using it to gesture. “Since we both know when you do it you’re thinkin’ about me, and if you're that fuckin’ horny you need to rub one out or you'll fuckin' explode, you can come to me, Legs, beg, and I'll put that fire out for you.”