Scoring With Him (Men of Summer #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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“If we slept together,” Grant begins. “Would you want to . . .?”

I finish for him. “Fuck you?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes. I would.”

He nods. “You seem like you’d want to top.”

But he’s only half-right. “And the next night, I’d want you to fuck me.”

Grant blinks in surprise, then he curls his big palm tighter, covering my knee. “You would?”

“I’m vers, rookie. All the way.”

“You are?”

“One hundred percent. Best of both worlds,” I say. “God made sex with a man the most pleasurable thing ever in existence, and I don’t want to miss any aspect of it.”

“Jesus,” he says, gripping my knee tighter, clutching it.

“What about you?”

He hesitates a few seconds before he answers. “Same.”

I lower my hand under the table, reaching for his, taking it in mine. Our fingers slide together, and my entire body becomes a lightning rod. We clasp fingers, and it feels like a prelude.

Like it’s just the start.

That’s the good news.

And that’s the bad news.

Seconds later, River returns, and we let go. The owner sets down the drinks. “Here you go. Did you two decide if you want food?”

I shake my head but smile to make up for my earlier behavior. “Not yet. Promise to tell you soon, River.”

As I lift my iced tea, Grant looks at the glass. “Is that because you’re driving?”

“Yes, but if you’re asking whether I drink, then no.”

“I had a feeling.”

“Why?” I ask, curious.

“You’ve never had a beer when we’ve played video games with the other guys.”

“You noticed?”

He nods. “I kind of notice you,” he says, a little embarrassed. He lifts his Diet Coke, takes a drink.

“You can order a beer with me. I’m cool with that. I don’t expect you to make the same choices I do.”

He smiles, soft at first, then full wattage. It’s infectious, and it warms my soul. “I’m good, man. Also, I think kisses taste better this way.”

He lifts the glass again, his blue eyes twinkling above the rim as he knocks some back.

“Who’s the flirt now?” I ask.

“Both of us,” he says when he puts it down.

And now I’m thinking about kissing.

How he’d taste.

How he wants me to kiss him tonight.

He’s practically taunting me.

But someone has to lay down the rules. I bet Grant would strip naked for me if I asked him to. I bet he’d blow me in the car if I said the word.

It’s not that he’s submissive.

It’s that he’s eager. He’s hungry. He’s fucking horny. So am I. But someone has to pump the brakes.

“Grant,” I say, more serious now. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if this goes any further.”

His face is stony at first. He swallows, a little roughly, like I’ve wounded him, and he needs to shake it off. Then he shrugs, shooting me that magic grin as if this decision is no big deal. “I figured you’d say that. So, does that mean we can finally order? Because I’m starving.”

I crack up, laughing so damn hard. “Yes, let’s get some food.”

An hour later, we leave, stopping to say goodbye to River on the way out.

“Come back anytime,” he says from behind the bar. Then he quiets his voice. “If you want to keep a low profile, we’ve got your back. Happy to do that for our guests who need it. I can make sure you get a corner table away from anyone else.”

“Appreciate that.” I wonder what I did to deserve this dude looking out for us. Nothing, but I’ll take it.

Grant offers him a fist for knocking. “You’re a good one.”

River knocks back. “Anytime.”

When we get to my car, I have this impulse to open the door for Grant.

That’s how I like to treat my dates.

I head around to his side, behind him, reaching around his arm before he can open the door. He turns, spins, shoots me a what the hell look. “What are you doing?”

We’re inches away. The closest we’ve ever been. I can smell the shower on him still. The soapy scent of his neck. His shampoo, some classic barbershop scent that’s all man. The vein in his neck pulses. The heat from his chest warms mine. My brain goes haywire, but my arm stays still, my hand on the door handle. “I was going to open the door for you,” I say, awkward and uncertain.

“You don’t have to open my door,” he says. “I’m a grown man.”

And just like that, he makes it clear. We’re equals. However this plays out, we’re equals.

I swallow, my throat tight. “Shit. Sorry.”

“No biggie.”

His eyes drift away like something has caught his attention. I follow his gaze. A couple leans against a truck several feet away, wrapped up in each other, kissing soft and tender, but with the kind of passion that could turn hot and frenzied any second.

Grant and I look back at each other at the same time. Our eyes lock. I don’t move. He doesn’t either.


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