Page 13 of Stalked By the Linebacker

“It was nice meeting you,” the dick said, and I could almost bet my life savings it had been with a shit-eating grin. I just wasn’t going to waste time turning around to look at him. Not when Libby was in my arms.

“You, too,” she said just as we reached my room. I didn’t like her looking at him. I shut the door behind me.

“That was rude. You could have made him—“I didn’t let her finish talking. There was no way I could. Not now, when I finally had her in my bedroom for the first time, would I let her talk about another man.

My lips crashed on hers.

My hand glided up the small of her back, up the line of her spine, until it rested on the back of her head. Her mouth opened without me trying to get in there, and I didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss.

Jesus freaking Christ! Libby tasted like mint and coffee and everything good in the world. She was sunshine and rainbows and butterflies and so much more. She was mine.

CHAPTER 3

LIBBY

He kissed me.

Not just a small peck or insignificant pressing of lips.Nope.The kiss was possessive. Life changing. Like he was trying to claim not just me but my soul and heart without knowing I was slowly handing it over to him one piece at a time.

The way he touched me and controlled the moment made the ache between my thighs worsen with every passing second. By the time he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, my lungs burned, and I was long past breathless.

“Shit,” he cursed. I blinked, trying to get my head back on straight, but I worried it was regret or disappointment I’d seen in his eyes, and my body stilled. Frozen solid as his body pressed my back against the door he had quickly shut.

“Fuck.” He licked his lips as his eyes searched mine for a long moment. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, slowly setting me down on the ground.

I had no idea how that went from the best moment of my life to the most embarrassing one to date. I wanted nothing more than a big black hole to pop up like some cartoon and suck me in and make me disappear.

“I’m sorry—“ Hector, no, Crank started to apologize, but I wasn’t going to be some sad girl about it.. He didn’t regret it a whole day after. Nope, I’d been so bad at kissing, he had instantly regretted it.

“No, I should be the one—” I started to say, but he cut me off.

“Wait, what are you sorry about?” he asked, and when I wouldn’t meet his gaze, the pads of his fingers tipped my head up. “Libby, what are you sorry about?”

“I wasn’t good,” I blurted, making a bigger idiot out of myself.Oh god! Can he tell how inexperienced I am?

“What?” His brows bunched so tightly lines formed over his brow. Lines I wanted to do nothing more than smooth with the tips of my fingers. But I didn’t. I had to keep my hands to myself.

“I’ve never… I mean, I have—” I wasn’t making any sense. “But it wasn’t any good. I haven’t kissed anyone since Blanca and I played spin the bottle at Geri’s sweet sixteen and?—”

“Fuck,” he groaned before he pulled me in, so close I had no choice but to press my chest against his. “Okay, let’s be clear about something, okay? I’m not sorry I kissed you, princess.”

“Why do you call me that?” I asked and blinked when I realized I couldn’t see him clearly through my glasses.Jesus, are my glasses fogged up from what I thought was the hottest kiss in the world?

“I’m not sorry about kissing you, Libby. I just should have been, I don’t know… sweeter about it,” he shared, almost like he was angry at himself.

“Oh.” I probably looked like a fish out of water. My mouth opened and closed. “I wasn’t complaining.” The words slipped past my lips before I could think. My cheeks burned under his gaze. A deep almost animal-like sound vibrated in his chest, and it spurred something inside me.

“Sweeter?” I asked, curious about what he could possibly mean. His eyes darkened and his nose flared. Hector’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and I wanted to lick the line of his neck and see what he tasted like.

“Yeah, babe. Sweet.” His head bent low enough that his mouth hovered just a breath away from mine. So close, every exhale tickled my lips.

“Soft,” he whispered. He brushed against mine just like he’d said. Both of his big, warm, calloused hands held my face with so much tenderness, tears prickled behind my eyes.

“So soft,” he mumbled almost to himself. “Gentle.” His kisses dropped to the corner of my mouth and slowly made their journey to my jawline and then my neck. “Tender.”

I tried so hard to stay still. Afraid that if I moved or made a sound, I might spook him and he would realize it was me who was in front of him. Then, when he spoke, I wished I’d minored in Spanish.

“Mi vida, no sabes cuanto te quiero,” his voice rumbled.

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