Secret Baby for the Player by Meg Summers EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Meg Summers
- Language: English
- Genre:
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 1 MB
- Price: Free
ZACH
Whenever I think of Ivy Collins, I get so hard I can hardly think.
This time, it’s the sight of her lacy bra hanging over the sink
that sets me off. Imagining the material pressed against her skin
makes me groan in frustration.
You know what you signed up for, I tell myself now as I look down at
my erection.
Granted, when I skipped a whole weekend of football practice (not a
good look for the captain and star of my community college team), I hadn’t
quite thought things through.
All I’d known was that my parents were going out of town for their
anniversary weekend and Ivy, the nerdy girl-next-door, was babysitting my
little sister while they were away.
But, somehow, nothing’s working. None of my charms are paying off.
And I’m left having to give myself a hand for the fifth time this
weekend. Pun very much intended.
I wrap my right hand around my throbbing eight inches, supporting
myself against the wall with my left hand. God, I can imagine her looking
at me with those piercing eyes she always keeps hidden behind those sexy
librarian glasses. Her mouth looks like ripe fruit ready for tasting and I can
barely wait to help myself. Closing my eyes, I imagine it’s her hand as I
start moving my hand up and down, squeezing sometimes, imagining how
she’d feel if I were to thrust into her fully. In my mind, she drops to her
knees and her mouth is closing in on me. My thumb swipes my head, as I
picture her tongue doing the same and her name slips out before I can stop
it. “Ivy.”
Of course, that’s the exact moment the bathroom door is thrown open by
the object of my desire. “Ohmygod!” She stares at me for a couple of
seconds in shock before letting out the loudest scream I’ve ever heard in my
life.
I don’t have the brain power to do or say anything before Ivy literally
scrambles away.
“Ivy,” I finally say, but I’m met with resounding silence. That girl can
run.
Not the reaction I usually get when a girl sees me naked, I think, feeling
a little sour as I reach for my towel.
Two minutes later, towel wrapped around my waist, I’m walking
downstairs, unsure of what to say to her. I’m not usually tongue-tied around
girls my age, but then again, this is completely unchartered territory.
Ivy’s sitting in front of the TV, a remote in her hand. I can only see her
profile from this angle, but I still take a second to admire her. Truth is, Ivy
doesn’t turn heads like some of the other girls I’ve seen around Sundale–for
instance, Pam, my very recent ex. Her cherubic face still gets her mistaken
for a sixteen-year-old, even though she’s nineteen, and she opts to dress in
shades of gray.
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