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Excerpt

“Hux!”

“Dolly,” I greet her in return, smiling like I won the lottery as she sashays toward me.

I expect her to sit back down in the chair she was in earlier, exhausted from all her dancing, but she doesn’t. She walks right past it, over to me.

Climbing into my lap, she lifts one leg over, straddling me. The move is so quick, even as clumsy as it is in her drunken state, it takes a minute for it to register. Shifting, she drags her center along the front of my shorts, my dick reacting instantly.

Holy fuck…

So much for that semi. I’m fully hard in the blink of an eye. And I have no fucking right to be. This is Dolly. My best friend. No. Just no.

“Hux…” she whispers, wrapping her arms around my neck, pressing her forehead to mine.

“Doll…” I groan. I mean for it to be a warning, but it doesn’t come out that way.

Because this can’t happen. I can’t kiss my best friend. Not in this state. Not ever.

But especially not drunk. Not right after she’s been left at the altar.

“Whatcha doin’, Doll?” I ask, trying to control the situation. I grab ahold of her hips, telling myself that it’s so I can keep her steady, stop her from grinding anymore in my lap and finding out exactly what my body is doing in response to her being in this position.

“It’s sun…whatever…” she says, partially slurring the words. “So, I…maybe…”

Leaning in, she presses her lips to mine. The angle is weird at first, but she shifts, dragging herself against my dick, the mix of salt and sweet from her drink finding my tongue. Or maybe that’s her. That perfect mixture of the two is what Dolly tastes like.



Fuuuuuck…

Her lips are soft, light, and leave me wanting more. So much more. It would be so easy to kiss her back. To run my hands up her legs, under this sundress, feel the smoothness of her skin, and grab her ass. To have my way with her.

But I can’t.

She’s drunk and heartbroken. And I won’t do that. Won’t be that guy. I refuse to be something she regrets.

Pulling back, I gasp, trying to catch my breath, knowing that I need to find the perfect words. But there are none.

“Dolly…” I start.

But that’s all I can say before the rejection takes over. Dolly’s face falls, her body hunching, fingers flying up to her lips, tracing along them. The hurt is written all over her face, stabbing me straight in the heart.

I did that. I hurt her. And if it’s possible, she looks more hurt than she did on her wedding day.

Fuck.

“I think it’s time to get you back to the hotel.”

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Other Titles Within this Series

BLUE JEANS IN LOW BEAMS

Hayes Family #1

FEEL IT IN THE AIR

Hayes Family #2

About the Author

USA Today Best Selling Claire Hastings is a walking, talking awkward moment. She loves Diet Coke, gummi bears, the beach, and books (obvs). When not reading she can usually be found hanging with friends at a soccer match or grabbing food (although she probably still has a book in her purse). She and her husband live in Atlanta.

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