Read Online Knox (Sexy Bastard #3) by Eve Jagger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eve Jagger
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gambling night.” I gesture at the blackjack tables and slot machines. And at Shelby, lighting up the room in a thousand-watt gold dress that’s almost a match for her personality. For someone with such a petite frame, she’s got a pretty stellar ability to fill up a room.
Just then, when I’ve been forcing myself not to look all night (well, as much as I humanly can resist), her eyes flash to mine. For a moment I freeze, a dog caught eying up the food he knows he’s not supposed to eat.
Then she flashes that grin in my direction for the first time tonight, and I swear to god I feel the jolt of it all the way into my crotch. Her head jerks sideways, just a fraction, but I understand what she means.
Come here .
“Excuse me,” I say to the nameless brunette, with hardly a glance to spare. “Gotta go say hello to a friend.”
“See you around the neighborhood,” she says as she pops an olive into her mouth.
I’m a fucking moron.
Why am I walking away from a perfectly good prospect for a woman I can’t pursue as anything other than a friend?
On the other hand, how could I resist a summons like that?
I’m halfway across the room, to the corner where another footballer has caught Shelby up in a conversation, when Cash and Ryder slap my back in unison, both of them looking fairly ridiculous in their own monkey suits.
“Dude, why are you cockblocking your own game right now?” Cash jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward mermaid girl. “You just walked away from the hottest chick in this room.”
I beg to differ, I think, but thankfully manage not to blurt out loud.
“Also the only chick in Atlanta willing to give it up to a former Yankee,” Ryder helpfully points out.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me because your shit got tied down and your days of playing the field are a distant memory.”
Cash snorts. “This what you call playing the field? More like letting the opponent walk. Looks like you could use some pointers from an experienced professional, bro.”
I let that one go. Over his shoulder, I’m firing sorry eyes in Shelby’s direction. Luckily, she seems to have finished up chatting to the most recent player, and she’s working her way in this direction.
“Hey, have you guys checked out the burlesque show yet?” Ryder interrupts, jabbing a thumb at the far corner of the room, where they’ve set up a small stage. A crowd has started to gather, and there’s already one girl out front strutting her stuff in a corset and garters.
“Burlesque,” Cash repeats. “Is that French for stripper?”
“No way. It’s a classic dance form. I mean check that shit out.” Ryder points, just as the dancer does a deep backbend into a flip that even I have to admit is pretty impressive.
Cash snorts. “Classic dance form. Is that what you tell Cassie when she catches you googling it at midnight?”
But Ryder just smirks. “Cassie’s the one who told me about it, actually. Don’t get jealous just because you’re uncultured.”
“If that’s culture, I’m fucking nobility,” Cash counters.
“Are you? I didn’t realize Savannah was a duchess,” I interrupt, unable to resist, even though I’d rather pull myself from this conversation and go rescue Shelby, who has been detained yet again, this time by the same defensive linebacker who was ogling her earlier. He’s standing way too close to her now, and from the annoyed expression on her face, she is not into it.
I’m opening my mouth to excuse myself when I hear Jackson’s name. Speak of the devil—or rather, think filthy things about the devil’s sister.
“Where’s Jackson?” I ask, a little too quickly.
Ryder and Cash both lift their eyebrows at me. “Wow, you missed that whole thing, didn’t you?” Cash says, laden with sarcasm.
Shit. He’s right, I stopped listening entirely. “Uh, no, I just meant—”
But it’s too late. Ryder’s sidling up to me and following my gaze. “Okay, which one were you scoping out? Hottie
Just then, when I’ve been forcing myself not to look all night (well, as much as I humanly can resist), her eyes flash to mine. For a moment I freeze, a dog caught eying up the food he knows he’s not supposed to eat.
Then she flashes that grin in my direction for the first time tonight, and I swear to god I feel the jolt of it all the way into my crotch. Her head jerks sideways, just a fraction, but I understand what she means.
Come here .
“Excuse me,” I say to the nameless brunette, with hardly a glance to spare. “Gotta go say hello to a friend.”
“See you around the neighborhood,” she says as she pops an olive into her mouth.
I’m a fucking moron.
Why am I walking away from a perfectly good prospect for a woman I can’t pursue as anything other than a friend?
On the other hand, how could I resist a summons like that?
I’m halfway across the room, to the corner where another footballer has caught Shelby up in a conversation, when Cash and Ryder slap my back in unison, both of them looking fairly ridiculous in their own monkey suits.
“Dude, why are you cockblocking your own game right now?” Cash jerks a thumb over his shoulder toward mermaid girl. “You just walked away from the hottest chick in this room.”
I beg to differ, I think, but thankfully manage not to blurt out loud.
“Also the only chick in Atlanta willing to give it up to a former Yankee,” Ryder helpfully points out.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me because your shit got tied down and your days of playing the field are a distant memory.”
Cash snorts. “This what you call playing the field? More like letting the opponent walk. Looks like you could use some pointers from an experienced professional, bro.”
I let that one go. Over his shoulder, I’m firing sorry eyes in Shelby’s direction. Luckily, she seems to have finished up chatting to the most recent player, and she’s working her way in this direction.
“Hey, have you guys checked out the burlesque show yet?” Ryder interrupts, jabbing a thumb at the far corner of the room, where they’ve set up a small stage. A crowd has started to gather, and there’s already one girl out front strutting her stuff in a corset and garters.
“Burlesque,” Cash repeats. “Is that French for stripper?”
“No way. It’s a classic dance form. I mean check that shit out.” Ryder points, just as the dancer does a deep backbend into a flip that even I have to admit is pretty impressive.
Cash snorts. “Classic dance form. Is that what you tell Cassie when she catches you googling it at midnight?”
But Ryder just smirks. “Cassie’s the one who told me about it, actually. Don’t get jealous just because you’re uncultured.”
“If that’s culture, I’m fucking nobility,” Cash counters.
“Are you? I didn’t realize Savannah was a duchess,” I interrupt, unable to resist, even though I’d rather pull myself from this conversation and go rescue Shelby, who has been detained yet again, this time by the same defensive linebacker who was ogling her earlier. He’s standing way too close to her now, and from the annoyed expression on her face, she is not into it.
I’m opening my mouth to excuse myself when I hear Jackson’s name. Speak of the devil—or rather, think filthy things about the devil’s sister.
“Where’s Jackson?” I ask, a little too quickly.
Ryder and Cash both lift their eyebrows at me. “Wow, you missed that whole thing, didn’t you?” Cash says, laden with sarcasm.
Shit. He’s right, I stopped listening entirely. “Uh, no, I just meant—”
But it’s too late. Ryder’s sidling up to me and following my gaze. “Okay, which one were you scoping out? Hottie
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