Page 29 of Study Games

“Know that you wanted…me.”

I stared at her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She giggled and blushed, shaking her head. “No.”

“Damn.” I kissed her anyway because I couldn't get enough of her.

She was addictive. Every touch and kiss created a need for more. I slid my hands along her back, memorizing the feel of her beneath my palms. My fingers itched for a sketchpad, to draw her and figure out who the hell she really was underneath all those layers she covered herself in, the physical ones as well as the mental barriers.

Maybe if I asked her, she would say the same thing about me.

But right now, I was interested in doing a little teasing before I stripped back those layers one by one.

10

JAX

But before I could do that, we had a little nitty-gritty to get to, and that wasn’t half as much fun as working down my kinks list. I sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Playtime's on hold. Talk to me. Tell me the things you keep secret and let the poison out.” The words were too light for the situation, but my brain was filled with need for the dripping pussy that curved around my cock like she wanted to swallow me whole.

I had nothing better to offer her right then.

Waverly’s head canted to one side. “It’s a good analogy.”

“It’s shit. I can’t think around you.”

She brought one leg up, and rested her chin on it, exposing a glimpse of purple panties. “Maybe I should move.”

That groan I’d been holding in slipped out. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Waverly laughed, a pure, delighted sound I could have recorded and played back a thousand times. “All right.” She settled back over me, running her hands across my chest, tracing over old scars and new muscle. “You work out, huh?”

“Gotta keep up with the hockey team I live with to survive.” I shrugged off the compliment. Working out with Crush was more than that, but I didn’t know how to put that part into words.

“Why do you live with a sports team?” She frowned as if trying to work me out.

I watched her, unable to tell if she was genuinely curious or stalling on telling her side of the tale we were here to dissect. But I could give a little to get a little. “I did promise you a story, didn’t I?” I mused, leaning back and drawing her a little closer. Those succulent thighs shifted and I made a mental note of all the places I’d bite soon. I closed my eyes, not needing to see her face while I got my pity party out of the way. “First year I got paired with a guy called Napoleon Lancaster for a lab and found out my father had a hand in it. He wanted the golden child and I am…” I gave a self deprecating laugh, looking down at myself and shook my head. “I’m nothing like–”

“You’re everything you should be,” she said fiercely, surprising me.

I stared into her eyes, and snorted. “Waverly, I’m a grade A fuck up by design. Everything he wanted me to be I pushed back with every fiber of my soul, if I believed in souls.”

She frowned. “You don’t?”

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I spent so many years hating what I was told to do and what I wasn’t supposed to be, that I never got a chance to find out who actually was underneath until I came to Rippton. Crush helped. Napoleon. It’s his hockey—nah, doesn’t matter,” I added to her blank look. “I was good with the diagrams, he was better with reports. Pulled a few guys off me one afternoon after class when they decided to see if the graphite I used stuck to my skin by puncturing it.” I tapped my chest and my ribs that itched with the memory. “Assholes,” I added when she sucked in a quick breath.

“The hospital trip,” she whispered.

“You heard that before, huh?” I gave her a smile that probably looked nothing like one.

“And you fought back?”Her hands closed on my chest when I nodded. She leaned forward, curving her body in to press her cheek to my shoulder.

“Eventually, in my own way. He saw me get bullied. I didn’t realize he was a hot pick for an early draft for the NHL. Crush got picked for captainship early in his first year. Unheard of shit. Seriously motivational, upbeat bastard who sets a benchmark higher than Chuck Norris and never stops moving the goalposts. Old school. He challenged me to be better while giving me time to figure my shit out. That still hasn’t happened, figuring out who I am, but he helped, launched a freaking PR campaign to create Jax.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” Waverly murmured into my shoulder, nestling deeper.

I folded one arm around her back and combed my fingers through her hair, noting when she moaned softly at the contact and didn’t pull away. “He’s my best friend. Crush made his first job as captain to challenge me to find my own hole in the world, not trying to fit into anybody else’s. Not even find a hole but just to stand above it all. I wasn’t his responsibility but for whatever reason he decided I needed to be under his wing. He offered me a room in the house he shared with his team as soon as he pulled his captainship and got up an hour early to train with me, or stayed sober and went at it at stupid o’clock when my anxiety provided sleepless hours. It didn’t take me long to appreciate how much effort a player—the real sort, not the pretend fanatics—puts in each day.” I stopped there, but in my head, the story played out anyway.

Crush trained harder than the rest of his team combined, not because he needed to prove anything to himself or the rest of the world. His desire ran strong because he genuinely enjoyed pushing himself, and being the benchmark he asked the rest of his team to rise above.

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