Chapter 2

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J.D.

We get to the bar and order one more round for everyone. I even give a generous tip to the guy so that he takes our drinks back to our table. William doesn't comment much, hell, for all I know, the guy even isn't aware I'm with him.

His eyes are relentlessly searching the crowd, especially in the direction of the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

Without anything better to do, I follow his gaze, looking for a girl who stole my best friend's attention. In all the years I've known the guy, and we go way back all the way to junior high when my father and I moved to Atlantic City where William's family comes from, he never looked at a girl that way.

A half smile curls my lips. This is going to be fun.

A sharp inhale by my side draws my attention back to the hallway.

That's the first time I see her—tall with the slim body wrapped in a little red dress, with toned legs that go on for miles even without heels, bloody red, heart-shaped lips, lips that could make a saint crazy with lust, and dark curls that are bouncing with every step she takes.

"She's hot dude," I murmur, more for myself than for his sake.

I can see it clearly. My hands in those gorgeous, silk-like curls, holding her close to me as I take her lips in a luscious kiss. I haven't felt this kind of lust, this kind of hunger in so long that I welcome it with open arms. Blood runs hot through my veins and my body hardens in anticipation. The bulge in my pants growing.

"You stay away from her, dude," William practically growls.

I want to laugh at the irritation I hear clearly in his voice, even in the club with music blasting all around us, but I hide it, only a small chuckle leaving my lips.

"I'm not interested in your porcelain doll. She's cute but too tiny for my taste. Her friend, though ..."

I did always have a thing for tall girls.

Some guys are ass-men or tits-men. I, on the other hand, want them to be at least average height. At six feet five, I tower over most of the people, including my friends who are all professional football players. Most of the time I'm feeling like I'm going to crush the girl, but not this one. She looks like she could handle me.

William's chick, on the other hand, is small and curvy. Not his usual type but I guess that is what makes him so obsessive about her in the first place. She has this sexy girl-next-door thing going on.

We stand there, looking at them for a while in silence. It's like torture watching her body move with sensuality. I wouldn't be surprised if she's a dancer.

"Doesn't she look familiar?"

I look at her more closely, rubbing my cheeks. A few days' stubble scratches my fingers. I should have probably shaved before coming, but when the guys called and said we were going to relax, clubbing was the last thing on my mind. With Harrison and Lewis doing the inviting I should have known better. Both of them are twenty-three years old, babies out of college who joined our team, The New York Knights, last year. For them, life is all about football, partying and women—not necessarily in that order.

"Now that you said it ..."

I watch as they go to the other bar and order one of those colorful, girly drinks. They finish it quickly and return to the dance floor. She moves with grace and sensuality, effortlessly dancing to the music.

William moves from the bar, but I stay there for a few more seconds, resisting the urge to go there and dance with her. I'm not an especially good dancer. I don't even like to dance, but the possibility to hold her body next to mine is calling to me. Tempting me to come closer and pin her body to mine so that all those dickheads who are trying to get her attention get the message and move away.

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