Page 57 of The Only Goal

A breath pops out of me, my erratic heart making me puffed and heady.

Baxter pulls away to look at my face, his eyes darting across me like he’s trying to memorize every little feature. Like he still can’t believe this is actually happening.

I smile with my eyes, my glistening lips barely curving as I brush my thumb down his neck.

He doesn’t say anything, just tells me I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. Tells me I’m the only woman in the world without having to speak.

My chest pulses.

My ears start to buzz.

Heat pools between my legs, and I know I have to have him.

I’m pretty sure I’ll die if I don’t.

Dramatic? Yes.

Real? Hell yes.

It’s not just a matter of want. I need him. I need to experience Baxter in this way. It’s like my body’s finally telling me what my brain was too stupid to hear.

All those years of unconscious pining.

All those nights I lay awake thinking about him and trying to convince myself I’d done the right thing.

But I hadn’t.

I screwed up.

And I’m going to fix it.

Right here.

Right now.

A soft whimper punches out of me, emotions clogging my throat as I reach for him again, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into his butt.

The heat between us is searing, our tongues no longer a warm oasis but a scorching volcano.

My voracious hunger turns my kisses messy, and I don’t even care.

I suck his lower lip, lick his jawline, nibble his earlobe.

His hands roam my back, his thumb skirting my boob before ducking away again. I want him to squeeze me, massage all my private places. I want him to make me come with his tongue. To push his fingers inside me. To glide his naked body over mine, then bury his cock so deep that I can feel him all the way to my soul.

Fisting his shirt, I tug it out of his jeans, freeing the fabric before scrambling for his belt buckle.

“Wait.” Baxter jumps away from me, slapping his hand over the buckle and blinking at me.

He’s panting, wide-eyed, and looks like I’m holding a shotgun to his head.

“What?” I breathe, my chest heaving.

Glancing down at his jeans, I can see his straining cock, and my insides weep with desire. My panties are wet with it, and I bite my lip, unable to control my lusty imagination.

“I…” Baxter lets out an awkward huff. “I can’t.”

CHAPTER 26

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