Page 74 of Snap Shot

I climb into the driver's seat and toss my bag into the back.

Me:?

Gym Guy:The word I was looking for was HOT.

He's right. In the thirty minutes it takes to drive to Bea, I sweat up a storm thinking about Landon's clinging hands and how his lips left cloud-like kisses on my skin.

Guess I'm cooking myself with my vibrator when I get home tonight.

Chapter 21: Bang, Bang, and Boomerang

Landon

A cold shower washes the constant stream of sweat dripping down my chest, back, and legs after a grueling training day.

The exertion is the second reason I need the icy temperature. Thinking about how Indi Davé let me kiss her everywhere is the first. My arms and hands felt so full when wrapped around her. Alone at night, they sparked with neglect, reaching for more of her long after she left.

Her skin tastes as good as it smells and lingers on my tongue, the memory of what we did leaving a permanent imprint. Those smooth, firm thighs squeezing my waist, nails scraping my scalp,fuck, the way she sighed my name. I almost didn't makeit through speed drills.

I don't know why, but my gut tells me she doesn't quite believe I could want her like I do. Maybe she still thinks I'm in it for sex. But anything physical will never be just that with Indi. She's hollowed out a space in my brain and I'm keeping her there as long as I can. Hand lifting from the tiled bathroom wall to the faucet, I switch over to warm water.

“You're a fucking mess.” Wade massages shampoo into his hair on my right. “I've never seen you so dazed during practice.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” I mumble behind both hands, wiping away tepid droplets from my eyes.

“Unbelievable. You're totally hung up on Gym Girl.”

“I'm not hung up on—”

“Bullshit.” He scoffs. “At this rate, you're gonna end up wanting to wife her up or something. Move on, man. No pussy is that precious to hold out for—”

“Who said she was holding out?” I adjust my teammate's shower head so shampoo suds run into his eyes.

“Gahhh! The fuck?” His scream dribbles soapy water into his mouth, and he spits, blubbering curses.

On the other side of me, Fletcher laughs in awe, lathering up a shoulder, then scrubbing across his chest. “How'd you manage that?”

A smirk lifts my lips in one corner. “It's called charm, Fletch.” I curl an arm around his neck and rub my knuckles into the top of his skull. “I've got tons of it.”

He knocks an elbow between my ribs and his fist flies into my side before escaping my grip. “Get off, asshole.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

“So, wait…” Wade's expression only conveys confusion. “Why are you still thinking about her? Hump and dump, bang, bang, and boomerang.” His finger guns fire away.

“We're trying something.”

His lips purse. “Oooooh.Like butt stuff?”

My hand smacks him upside the head. Idiot.“No, not butt stuff. We have…” How do I put this?“…an arrangement. There are rules.”

“Ahh” —he doles out a slow nod— “I get it now. One of those safe-word, red-room, BDSM-contract thingies.”

That elicits another slap, this time to the back of his stupid, immature head. “I swear I can't talk to you about anything. Not everything is about sex.”

“If you're gonna quote Wilde, at least get it right. ‘Everything in the worldisabout sex but sex. Sex is about power.’”

Fletch mimics a whiny baby voice, scrunching his nose on one side. “Myah-myah-myah,‘I went to Harvard.’”

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