Page 23 of Power Play

The moment her tongue brushes mine, fire erupts in my veins. It’s powerful, earth-shattering. Nothing will be the same after this. I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her against me. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, and the soft moan I hear makes me desperate for more with her.

“God, you’re perfect,” I whisper, sliding my lips down her jaw. Nuzzling my nose in her neck, I inhale her scent: cotton candy mixed with some flowery smell. My head is spinning from her sweetness. I lay kisses on her cheeks and jaw, moving down her throat. “I want to kiss you again and again and again. I never want to stop kissing you,” I confess, bringing my lips back to hers. “I shouldn’t have waited.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t feel this good if it wasn’t a little bit forbidden,” Layla says quietly, her eyes glimmering with joy.

“No. With you, it would always be perfect.” My gaze roams over her flushed cheeks and puffy lips, and I can’t help but feel proud of how messy she looks. In the best way possible, she’s a mess because of me. “I want to ask you on a date.”

“I’m going home tomorrow evening.”

“Fuck this stupid winter break,” I mutter.

She chuckles, winding her hands around my torso. “It’s a good way for us to figure out if we really want this, what?—”

“I want this. Winter break won’t change my mind.” I swallow my nerves. “You think it will change yours?”

Layla studies me intently. Her chocolate brown eyes are the most beautiful masterpiece that has ever existed on this planet, and I can’t look away from them.

“No.”

That little word is all I need to cover her lips with mine again. It’s dark and cold out, but it doesn’t matter. I’m finally holding a girl in my arms, the girl I’ve been dreaming about for over a year. It feels endless.

One kiss from Layla Benson is going to change my life.

I just know it.

Chapter 9

She Always Has Been

CLAY

Now, August

The birds are chirpingin my backyard, and kids’ laughter reaches my room through an open window. I continue lying still in my bed, staring at the ceiling even though I woke up around thirty minutes ago. It’s like if I move, the illusion my dream brought me will dissolve into nothingness. And I don’t want that to happen.

Dreaming about my first kiss with Layla after spending the day in her company isn’t exactly surprising. I’ve been reminiscing about my college days a lot recently, and not a day goes by when I don’t think of her. At this point, I don’t think my brain even knows what it means not to have Layla Benson imprinted upon it.

It’s a scary thought to let sink in because I never would’ve imagined it would be me one day—hopelessly in love and unable to move on.

When I was growing up, I liked a lot of girls. Nothing serious, just a good time in each other’s company, and then obviously sex when I was older. I was a playboy, a flirt who had a newcrush almost every week. It worked well for me, and I never complained. By the time I went to college, I was sure I’d stay single forever. I had so much to offer, why limit it to only one person? And, surprisingly, I never had any arguments with the girls I’d hook up with. Not in high school, not in college. They always knew where I stood, never tried to change my mind, and in nine out of ten situations, I was even able to stay friends with them.

It was all fun and games until one day, when I had one of the worst hangovers of my life, I met her.

Oh, the irony.

Did I sleep with other girls after that? I did. Layla was off-limits for me, and I convinced myself it was for the best. Yet I was always looking out for her. In the hallways on campus, at the parties she went to with Drake, at our games. I would fantasize about her wearing my jersey instead of her brother’s, dying from jealousy anytime I was sentenced to watch other guys approach her.

My cell starts vibrating on my nightstand, forcing me to stop this walk down memory lane. I turn onto my stomach and reach for my phone. It’s Thompson. I wonder what he wants at 9:00 a.m.

I press the speakerphone icon on my screen. “Hey.”

“Hey, Rodgers. Did I wake you up?”

“No, I’ve been up for a while. What’s up?”

“Get dressed. I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes.”

“I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

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