The Jock Script (The Script Club #3) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Script Club Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
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Please don’t let this be a mistake. Please don’t let this be a mistake.

“Hi.”

I pasted a smile on my face, whirling around to—my mouth fell open.

Oh. My. Wow.

This man was…gorgeous.

Drop-dead gorgeous.

His photo did not do him justice. I stared for longer than was polite before pulling my cell out, comparing the likeness on the screen to the hunk in the doorway just to be on the safe side.

Dark hair, check. Green eyes, check. Perfect nose and chiseled jaw, check. The end-of-day stubble and the hint of humor in his gaze was an added bonus, so double check. Bottom line…he was stunning.

And my mouth was still open. I snapped it shut and brusquely offered my hand.

“Hello, my name is—”

“Ooh, let me stop you right there. No names, remember? We’re anonymous.” He shook my hand and chuckled. “Damn, you have a firm shake. Come on in.”

“Uh, yes. Okay.”

I was two steps behind…at least. My brain was processing the concept of total anonymity while cataloging my surroundings in case I had to recall any of this in a police lineup one day.

In case you’re curious, his apartment was tastefully, albeit sparsely, furnished. The entry opened directly into a great room with a high-vaulted ceiling. Light-gray walls and pine hardwood floors were a nice backdrop to the charcoal sectional and glass coffee table positioned in front of a large flat-screen television. On the opposite end, a small island with two barstools delineated the living area and the open-style kitchen. He could have used some artwork, but the boxes stacked near the door indicated that he’d just moved in.

But this was anonymous, so I wasn’t supposed to ask. I think.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

My smile wobbled slightly. “Water, please.”

He inclined his head. “You got it.”

I followed him into the kitchen and thanked him when he handed over a water bottle. I twisted the cap off, took a sip, and placed it on the island.

“I have a confession.”

“Which is?” he prodded.

“I’m uncertain about how to proceed,” I admitted. “Are we supposed to kiss or just…get to it?”

He pursed his lips in amusement. “Either works. Some guys don’t like to kiss. Do you?”

“Yes, absolutely. Do you?” I held up my hand and stepped into the living area. “Wait. Before you answer that one—how many times have you done this?”

“I’ve used the app two or three times.”

“And? How was the experience?”

He let out a half laugh as he perched on the barstool closest to me with his legs spread in a typical “dude” casual posture. His light-blue Levi’s were worn thin near his crotch. They lovingly cradled his generous-looking bulge, the same way his snug tee hugged his muscular biceps. I wondered if he was wearing a sexy-time uniform. Simple yet well-fitted clothing that gave the impression of a man who was comfortable in his own skin. Appearance-wise, he was the picture of confidence—from the way he looked and dressed to his mannerisms and his understated but well-appointed apartment.

Perhaps I was mistaken, but I’d bet big money—if I had any…that he was playing a part. Like an actor in a play. I was doing the same to a degree, but unlike him, I didn’t know my role.

Yep, I definitely needed to ask a few clarifying questions.

“The experience was…good the first time, fine the second, and good enough the third. We didn’t talk much. We just got right to business,” he replied, fixing me with an intense look.

“The business of sex.”

“Yeah.”

I took another sip of water, then recapped the bottle and set my hands on my hips. “I’m ready. Show me your love shack.”

This time he burst into laughter. His eyes lit with humor, and his gorgeous smile transformed his already devastating features into something godlike. I blinked like a lovesick puppy till he cleared his throat and stood, leaving a couple of feet between us.

“Technically, my entire apartment is my love shack, but my bedroom is this way.” He hooked his thumb toward a door adjacent to the kitchen and gave a lopsided smile. “If you’re still interested. If you’re not, that’s okay too.”

“I—yes, I am, but…I think we should kiss first. If we have a bad first kiss, we may need to rethink this,” I stammered.

He nodded and closed the distance between us. My heartbeat soared when he lifted my chin with his thumb. His gaze flitted from my eyes to my mouth and back again before he inched into my space, brushed my nose playfully with his, then sealed his lips over mine.

Would it be too dramatic to claim that I saw stars? Yes? Well, sue me. It was true.

And when he licked my lips and oh, so smoothly slid inside, I happily rolled out the proverbial red carpet. I flattened my hands on his chest, humming softly as our tongues glided and twirled in a languid, exploratory mating dance. He wrapped his fingers around my nape and tilted his head, deepening the contact with a subtle but demanding probe, licking and sucking…and basically turning me into a puddle of goo.


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