“To the best team in the NFL,” Shawn toasted as he stood on a chair in the middle of the bar, holding a glass of beer in his hand.

“Hear, hear!” over three hundred partiers shouted back.

“To the best goddamn teammates I could ever have,” he continued.

“Hear, hear.”

“To the most loyal fans, the most supportive families, and one hell of a coaching staff,” he added.

“Hear, hear.”

“And to us”—he looked at all his teammates—“we kicked ass this season, we overcame every obstacle that was thrown our way, and we fought hard to be Super Bowl champions. Now, it’s time to fucking party.”

“Hear, fucking, hear.”

He jumped off the chair, and I clinked glasses with him.

“My email is already blowing up with contracts,” I told him. “So, you and your boys go celebrate. I’ll give you tomorrow off to recover. But, come Tuesday morning, I’m flying to Nashville, and we’ve got some business to discuss.”

“You’re going to get me endorsed?”

I laughed, matching the expression on his face. “You’re already endorsed. What I’m going to do is make you even richer than you already are.”

He pounded his fist on my shoulder and said, “The best thing I ever did was sign with you. Eight seasons, and it’s been one hell of a ride.”

I held my glass up to my lips. “The ride is just starting, my man. You’ve got plenty more Super Bowls in you.”

“You’ve got that right.”

My fingers slapped and gripped his, and we went in for a man hug. “Go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

He released my hand, and I turned toward my partners, who were standing right behind us.

“What a fucking awesome night for The Agency.”

“How much are we looking at?” Brett asked.

I quickly calculated the amounts sitting in my email, knowing which contracts Shawn would accept and which ones wouldn’t be enough, and then I added up my percentage. “Our take will be close to five million. That’s just from today. Tomorrow will bring in another impressive round, I’m sure.”

“Damn,” Max said. “You killed this month’s numbers.”

I smiled, looking at the amber liquor in my glass. “I didn’t kill them. I fucking slaughtered them.”

“He’s showing us up,” Brett said to Max.

“Do I smell a competition brewing?” Scarlett asked. “Because nothing makes me happier.”

As our CFO, Scarlett was all about our numbers, and the three of us were so competitive that it fueled us if one did better than the other. Her suggestion only goaded us.

“Whoever has the highest month wins thirty grand from each agent. That’s sixty total. Deal?” I said.

Brett stuck out his hand. “It’s on, brother.”

We clasped fingers, and then I did the same with Max.

Once we all agreed on the bet, a waiter stopped by and delivered another round of drinks.

As I was lifting the glass off the table, Max said, “I meant to ask you this when we were in our suite, but I got distracted by the game and forgot. Who was that girl outside the Coles’ box?”

I held the scotch underneath my nose and briefly inhaled it, feeling the way it slightly burned my skin. “That was Samantha, Shawn’s youngest sister.”

He shook his head. “She’s hot as hell.”

Samantha Cole wasn’t fucking hot.

She was gorgeous.

She was breathtaking.

She was perfect in every goddamn way.

And, if she weren’t Shawn’s sister, she’d be standing next to me at this table instead of on the other side of the bar, sipping a glass of wine while she spoke to Shelby, the oldest of the four girls.

I’d seen Samantha the second I arrived at the after-party. The sight of her reminded my cock of how fucking good her pussy had felt and how badly I had wanted her that night.

My need to be inside her hadn’t changed.

If anything, it intensified, especially with how beautiful she looked and how well she knew how to fuck.

All I wanted right now was to move in behind her, spread her arms over the bar top, and pound her pussy from behind.

But the girl had barely glanced at me, our eyes only connecting once, and she hadn’t done it since.

“It’s about time she showed up,” Brett said.

Brett was the only one in the group who knew about our past. I’d never told any of the others, even after I ended things with her. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. I trusted Max and Scarlett with my life. There was just nothing to discuss; it was over before anything started.

But, man, she hadn’t been easy to ignore.

Not when she called a few times, when she texted even more.

Once I’d sent her the message that severed things permanently, she replied, and then I never heard from her again.

“Showed up?” Scarlett said. “What does Brett mean by that?”

I leaned into the table, stealing a glance at Samantha before I looked at Scarlett. “I’ve never seen her at any of Shawn’s games. That’s what Brett means.”

Scarlett nodded toward the right side of the room. “Isn’t that her?”

I let out a painful sigh. “Yes.”

When it came to business, I always got what I wanted. I was cutthroat, and I attacked like a goddamn lion. In my personal life, I wasn’t as vicious. Women were gentle; they couldn’t handle that kind of ruthlessness. Plus, I didn’t have the time to hunt. I just went after what was available, and then I moved on.

With Samantha, I’d gone after her. I fucked her. And then I was forced to say good-bye. Halting things between us had fucking sucked.

And it sucked even harder, seeing how beautiful she was now, maybe even more so than when I’d first met her.

Samantha had an exoticness to her with bright olive skin and the biggest brown eyes. Her jeans were so tight, I could see the muscles in her thighs, the slight dip of her hips, and the roundness of her tight ass. I knew how fucking delicious every one of those spots tasted. But it was her face I couldn’t get enough of. Those plump lips that she loved to lick and those cheeks that had reddened when my beard scratched them.

I felt Scarlett’s eyes on me, so I turned away from Samantha and gazed around at the different crowds. I saw plenty of other agents I recognized, some even from The Agency, those who worked underneath us, representing other Titans players.

I didn’t want to look at any of those fuckers.

They didn’t have the body I was after or the mouth I wanted to kiss or the pussy I wanted to bury my tongue inside of.

My attention dragged right back to Samantha.

Fuck this.

“I’ll catch you guys in a little bit,” I said without waiting for their response, and I began moving toward the right side of the bar.

My cock hardened halfway there, the tip grinding into my suit pants.

This was what she did to me, and I was only staring at her from afar.

By the time I reached her, it was unbearable.

Goddamn it.

I needed it to soften.

I needed to stop imagining the warmth of her cunt.

I needed to push every thought of her out of my head, so I could stare at her lips while she spoke and not think of how soft and wet they were and how hard she had kissed me.

While she faced her sister, I slipped in behind her and pressed into the edge of the counter. “Samantha.”

Her body stiffened at the sound of my voice, her head quickly snapping in my direction.

Cinnamon.

I liked that her scent hadn’t changed.

“Jack,” she whispered.

Shelby leaned around Samantha and said, “Hey, Jack.”

I smiled at both women even though only one was returning the gesture. “You girls having a good time?”

“A fantastic time,” Shelby said. “My four kids are with a babysitter, I have a glass of wine in my hand, and my brother won the Super Bowl. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

I laughed.

Samantha didn’t. She stood frozen with her eyes locked on me.

“It’s nice that we were all able to attend,” Shelby added. “It’s just sad that I have to come to my brother’s championship game to catch up with this one.” She wrapped her arms around Samantha and shook her. “Miss I’m Too Busy to Call Anyone Back.”

And then the stare was broken, her face now pointed toward her sister. “Shelby…”

It sounded like a warning.

Shelby released her. “I’m going to go find Dad and make sure he’s behaving himself. I’ll see you two later.”

Samantha opened her mouth to say something, but Shelby walked away before she had a chance.

“Let’s get you a refill.” I raised my hand in the air, calling over one of the bartenders. When he greeted me, I pointed at Samantha’s glass. “Can you top that off?”

He lifted a bottle from behind the bar and held it in front of her, pouring several inches’ worth of white wine.

“I really didn’t need more,” she said once he finished.

“I disagree.”

She turned her whole body toward me and searched my eyes.

There was so much happening in hers. More so than I’d ever seen in another woman.

They didn’t just speak to me.

They questioned; they demanded.

The only thing I didn’t know was what they wanted.

I hoped to fucking hell it was my cock.

Jesus, this situation couldn’t get any messier because I still couldn’t be with my client’s sister.

“I need you to walk away, Jack.”

“Can I get you another drink?” the bartender asked.

I looked at him, handing him my empty glass. “Scotch.” Then, I glanced back at her. “Is that what you need, or is that what you want?”