“For the fifth overall pick in this year’s NFL draft, the Tennessee Titans choose Shawn Cole, tight end from Florida State,” the NFL commissioner announced as he stood on the stage.

Once my client’s name was called, I got up from my chair and cheered as loud as Shawn’s family. “That’s our boy,” I said, gripping the shoulders of Shawn’s dad and shaking them.

All that fucking work had paid off.

It wasn’t just the hours I’d logged from trying to convince Shawn that I was the best agent for him, something I’d pushed since the last day of his football season, but it was also the months of negotiation it had taken to get him an NFL contract.

It was all worth it.

Shawn, smiling like the richest motherfucker, stood and hugged his mother first. Then, he moved on to his four sisters, and finally, his dad.

I was sitting the farthest away, and he reached me last.

He shook my hand and patted my arm as he hugged me. “We did it, man.”

“You did it.” I pulled away. “Now, go show the world why you deserve to be a Titan.”

Shawn followed my order, climbing the steps and walking onto the stage. A Titans hat was immediately placed on his head, and a jersey with his name and number was handed to him. He held the jersey in front of him, his smile growing even larger as he showed the audience the front and back of it.

The cheering erupted.

I’d guessed he would get drafted in the top twenty. But fifth?

I couldn’t fucking believe it.

Besides a few small endorsement deals and a soccer contract, this was my first big break. One that would get my name printed on every sports page across America. One that would prove to my boss that, even though I’d just recently graduated from college, I would continue working my ass off until I was the top sports agent in LA.

As I watched Shawn pose in front of the camera, my phone vibrated from inside my suit. I pulled it out, the screen lighting up with texts from Max and Brett and Scarlett—my best friends, who all worked at the same agency as me. Their messages congratulated me on the Titans contract and said we’d celebrate tomorrow when I got back to California. Before putting my cell away, an email came through. It was from the Titans, and it outlined Shawn’s schedule and what was required of him in the next few days.

I reviewed it all and slipped the phone back into my pocket, waiting for Shawn to reach our aisle before I said, “Are you ready to get back to work?”

“Hell yeah.”

“The Titans want you to report to their training facility tomorrow afternoon. That means, instead of flying home to Florida, you’ll be heading to Nashville.”

“I’m down for whatever they want.”

“Good,” I said, pounding his fist. “Then, tonight, we celebrate.”

“Tonight, we’re getting fucking drunk,” he promised.

And, hell, he kept that goddamn promise.

By three that morning, Shawn asked me to bring his youngest sister, Samantha, back to the hotel we were all staying in. Given how much booze I’d drunk and how Samantha and I had been secretly flirting all night, I was more than happy to leave with her.

We caught a taxi outside the bar in lower Manhattan, and we were driven to Midtown. We stumbled out of the backseat, and as I walked her into the lobby, my arm snaked around her waist.

“But Shawn is going to be sooo far away,” she slurred.

My whole fucking body was turned on by her, and holding her tightly against my side was only making it worse. Her heat, her smell, her touch—I wanted more, and I wanted it now.

“Nashville isn’t even close to Florida, and I’m all the way down in Miami,” she continued. “How will I see his games?”

“Your brother will be making enough that he can fly you there every weekend.”

“You think?”

As we reached the elevator, I hit the button to take us upstairs. “I know.”

“But he could get cut, couldn’t he? And then what would happen?”

I turned her toward me. Those big, gorgeous, dark eyes and those thick, glossy lips were fighting for my attention. “Then, I’d find him a new team. But that’s not going to happen. He’s too good.”

“You’re so sure.”

I put my hand on the back of her head, tilting her face up to mine. “Tennessee just lost one of their starting tight end. They need someone with your brother’s height and speed and with hands as quick as his. As long as he doesn’t get injured during camp, he’s got the starting spot.”

“You’re so sexy when you talk football.”

I gripped her harder, my mouth moving closer to hers until I heard the elevator open. Then, my hand dropped to her waist again, and I led her inside. “What floor?”

“Sixth.”

I hit the button.

“Don’t tell me you’re staying on the sixth, too?” She playfully slapped my chest.

“I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I went to the inside pocket of my jacket, finding the key holder, and I pulled it out to show her where the room number was written down. “I’m not lying.”

“I guess you’re not.” She wrapped her hands around my arm. “I’m crashing on a rollaway in my parents’ room, so if you want to keep this party going, we have to go to yours.”

She licked across her top lip, and I couldn’t pull my fucking eyes away.

I’d kissed that mouth a few times tonight, so I knew how it tasted, how it molded as my tongue moved between her lips. Each time, I’d made sure her brother was occupied. At six-six, Shawn had three inches and a good thirty pounds on me. He was my top client. I sure as fuck didn’t want him to see me all over his nineteen-year-old sister, who lived on the opposite side of the country, attending school at the University of Miami.

“You think you have another drink in you?”

She hiccuped. “I know I do.” I laughed, and she grabbed the lapels of my suit. “I majored in partying last semester. You know, all freshmen do their first year in college.”

“I remember. I was one once.”

The door slid open, and I brought her to my room. Once we were inside, she went to the minibar and scanned the shelves. She pulled out four small bottles of vodka and held them in the air.

“These will do,” she said, handing me two and then climbing on top of the bed, gently bouncing while she guzzled the liquor. Once the first bottle was empty, she dropped it onto the mattress and opened the second one. Right before it reached her mouth, she jumped a little higher, and the vodka splashed out. Some landed on her face and the rest on her shirt.

“Oh my God,” she screeched, using her sleeve to wipe it off her skin.

I set both of my bottles on the dresser—one full, the other in my stomach. I’d taken it down like a shot as I watched her jump, her fucking nipples hardening more after each bounce.

“I’ll get you a towel.”

I went into the bathroom, grabbing the hand towel by the sink, and I returned to the bed.

Samantha was sitting on the mattress with her shirt off, holding it up in the air for me to see. “It’s soaked.”

The only thing I was focusing on was her tits. They were held tightly in a black strapless bra, her pink nipples poking through the lace.

Jesus, fuck.

She had curves. She had the smoothest-looking skin. She had the kind of body I wanted to worship, that I wanted to taste until my tongue was too tired to lick anymore.

“Do you want a T-shirt to put on?”

She shook her head, and I took several steps closer until I stood in front of her. Using my knee, I slid her legs apart and moved in between them.

I wanted her bra off.

I wanted her jeans on my goddamn floor.

I wanted her lips around the end of my cock.

But she was Shawn’s sister, and I was playing with fucking fire.

“You have way too much on.” Her hands went to my belt, and she unhooked it, unbuttoning and unzipping my suit pants. As they fell to the floor, she started on my jacket and shirt, and suddenly, I had on only a T-shirt and my boxer briefs.

I ran my fingers across her cheek, the look in her eyes telling me she was waiting for me to make the next move. My thumb then dipped lower and found a sticky spot on her chin, a place she must have missed where the vodka had soaked in. I brought my thumb up to my mouth and licked it off.

“Maybe I should go wash my face.”

I stopped myself from putting my hand back on her. “Yes.”

She slid to the side and slowly rose from the bed.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I watched her take a step, her smile pulling me in as much as her tits. “Your body is incredible.”

She stood next to me, and I turned toward her.

“Do you want it?” she asked.

Did I want it?

She ran her hands up her sides until they landed on her tits, two fingers brushing over her nipples.

The liquor had made her more confident.

I liked this version, and I liked how innocent she had acted before she’d started drinking.

But her sexual side wasn’t just hot as hell; it was fucking dangerous. My cock didn’t seem to care; the goddamn thing was so hard, the tip was grinding against my stomach.

I took a breath, trying to get it to soften. “Go wash your face, and come right back,” I told her.

Once I heard the bathroom door close, I took off my T-shirt and flopped down onto the bed. I pulled the blanket back, got my feet under it, and tucked the rest of it over me, my head sinking into the fluffy pillows.

Shawn’s contract was for three years. I couldn’t have him find out what happened in this room, and I couldn’t have him pissed off at me. I was just starting my career. This wasn’t a good way to kick it off.

But, damn, that girl was fucking beautiful.

And she wanted me. And I wanted her.

And I’d have her the second she returned to this bed as long as she understood she could never mention it to Shawn.

But, while I waited for her to come out of the bathroom, my eyes became heavy as hell. I closed them, and all of my muscles relaxed. Every thought in my head faded.

Blackness crawled across me.

I heard my name being softly spoken, but my mouth felt too heavy to respond. My tongue felt like lead. Sleep was so close; I just needed a few seconds before it pulled me in.

And it must have because the next sound was my alarm.

With my head pounding, I gently opened my eyes, slid out from underneath Samantha’s arms, and got up to search for my phone. I found it in my jacket and turned off the sound.

It was a little past six, which meant my flight was in three hours.

Knowing I needed food more than a shower, I put my feet through the leg holes of my boxer briefs. Once those were on, my pants were next, followed by my T-shirt, button-down, and jacket. Then, I went into the bathroom to do a quick brush of my teeth before tossing all my shit into my suitcase, which I rolled to the door.

Samantha hadn’t moved in the bed. Her hair was fanned across the white pillow, the blanket pulled up to her neck. I leaned down and pressed my lips against her forehead, thankful as fuck that nothing had happened between us.

It was better that way.

For the both of us.

“Good-bye, gorgeous girl,” I whispered against her cheek.

Then, I went to the door and closed it behind me.