Hard Knocks: An Ultimate Novella. Lori Foster
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damn one of them had probably thought about sleeping with her.
For damn sure, they’d all pictured her naked.
Those vivid visuals were part of a man’s basic DNA. Attractive babe equaled fantasies. While Harper hustled around the rec center helping out in a dozen different ways, she’d probably been mentally stripped a million times.
Hell, even while she sniped back and forth with Armie, Gage pictured her buck-ass, wondering how it’d feel to kiss her like that again, but without the barrier of clothes in the way.
“You need a swift kick to your butt,” Harper declared.
“From you?” Armie laughed.
Fighting a smile, she said, “Don’t think I won’t.”
“You wanna go?” Armie egged her on, using his fingertips to call her forward. “C’mon then, little girl. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
For a second there, Harper looked ready to accept, so Gage interceded. “Children, play nice.”
“Armie doesn’t like nice.” She curled her lip in a taunt. “He likes kinky.”
In reply, Armie took a bow.
True enough, if ever a man liked a little freak thrown into the mix, it was Armie. He’d once been dropped off by a motorcycle-driving chick dressed in leather pants and a low-cut vest, her arms circled with snake tattoos. She’d sported more piercings than Gage could count—a dozen or so in her ears, a few in her eyebrows, lip, nose. The whole day, Armie had limped around as if the woman had ridden him raw. He’d also smiled a lot, proof that whatever had happened, he’d enjoyed himself.
Unlike Gage, Armie saw no reason to skip sex, ever. Not even prior to a fight. The only women he turned down were the ones, as Harper had said, that were too nice.
“Come on.” She took Gage’s hand and started dragging him toward the back.
“Hey, don’t leave my storage closet smelling like sex,” Armie called after them. “If you’re going to knock boots, take it elsewhere!”
Harper flipped him the bird, but she was grinning. “He is so outrageous.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Just where was she leading him?
“Eh, maybe.” She winked up at him. “But I just act outrageous. I have a feeling it’s a mindset for Armie.”
Ignoring what Armie had said, she dragged him back into the storage closet—and shut the door.
Gage stood there watching her, thinking things he shouldn’t and getting hard because of it. Heart beating slow and steady, he asked, “Now what?”
COULD A MAN look sexier? No. Dumb question. Harper sighed. At twenty-five, she knew what she wanted. Whether or not she could have it, that was the big question.
Or rather, could she have it for the long haul.
“Is that for me?” She nodded at the rise in his jeans.
Without changing expressions, Gage nodded. “Yeah.” And then, “After that kiss, you have to ask?”
Sweet. “So you like my plan?”
Looking far too serious, his mellow brown gaze held hers. “If your plan is to turn me on, yeah, I like it.”
As part of her plan, she forced a laugh. She had to keep Gage from knowing how badly he’d broken her heart.
Talk about pathetic.
Gage was two years older, which, while they’d been in school, had made him the older, awesome star athlete, popular guy that every girl had wanted. Her included.
Back then, she hadn’t stood a chance. He’d dated prom queen, cheerleader, class president material, not collect-for-the-homeless Goody Two-shoes material.
So she’d wrapped herself in her pride and whenever they’d crossed paths, she’d treated him like any other jock—meaning she’d been nice but uninterested.
And damn him, he’d been A-okay with that, the big jerk.
They lived in the same small neighborhood. Not like Warfield, Ohio, left a lot of room for anonymity. Everyone knew everyone, especially those who went through school together.
It wasn’t until they both started hanging out in the rec center, her to help out, him to train, that he seemed to really tune in to her. Course, she hadn’t been real subtle with him, so not noticing her would have required a deliberate snub.
She was comfortable with guys. Actually, she was comfortable with everyone. Her best friend claimed she was one of those nauseatingly happy people who enjoyed life a little too much. But whatever. She believed in making the most of every day.
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