Page 58 of Unsteady

I reach for her, picking her up in my grip easily, while shucking her duffel bag off her shoulder. A second of worry presses into me that she could very well reject me again—and who would blame her—but she doesn’t. Her legs slip over my hips, tightening to hold herself up as I press my lips to hers. Once, twice, then biting down on her plush bottom lip and soothing the nip with my tongue.

“Rhys,” she half whispers, half moans. “Not here.”

It makes me pause for only a moment, because she’s right—we’re in the middle of a hallway in the ice complex during the day. My dad drove here with me, otherwise I’d be halfway home with her in the passenger seat, creating some reason in my head to keep her in my room, in my bed—anywhere as long as it’s in my space.

“I think that you’re mad at me for something, but I—”

“I was.” She sighs quickly. “I’m over it.”

She doesn’t really look over it, but I feel a little too waterlogged and dizzy to investigate.

“I need you,” bursts from my lips, because it’s all I need. I don’t care about being in the open, getting caught. But if she does, then it matters to me.

She leaps down from my arms and wraps a hand around my wrist, fingers pressing into my pulse as she drags me down the hall and through into the showers.

It’s empty, but she shoves me into the furthest stall, yanking the curtain to close us in with speed and lust bursting in her eyes, only feeding the monster in my veins.

I’ve never done anything like this, I’ve never been like Freddy or Holden with their puck bunny hook-ups. I’ve always been boyfriend material. The good guy all-star athlete, straight A student that she wants to take home to her parents. A serial monogamist.

Not anymore.

Another laugh escapes me while her soft little hands climb up my stomach and chest.

I broke more than my body that game, my mind is fucking splintered.

As she shoves into me, her hands climbing quickly beneath my shirt and slipping into my belt loops, I reel back.

Nope. I don’t need her in control—I need the control, something to grasp ahold of while I’m spinning out.

I flip our position, letting her shoulders hit the tile as I slip a hand to the soft skin of her inner thigh, slipping a finger along the line of her spandex shorts, pressing hard, demanding kisses to her mouth, her neck, the spot behind her ear.

“I know you like to have control,” I whisper, pressing my lips against the skin of her cheek. “But I’m not some boy you’re using to try and feel nothing—you’re going to feel everything with me.” My teeth clamp down on her earlobe, just a nip before I cut off her moan with another hard press of my mouth to hers.

She follows my lead easily, battling me for dominance even still.

I sink to my knees in front of her, pressing kisses to her stomach, covered in that same fucking thread bare Waterfell shirt that only feeds my fantasies of her in a shirt that looks almost identical, except with my name on the back.

Just before I can move further, her hand grasps my chin and tilts my head back.

“I’m exhausted,” she confesses, relaxing back against the tiles and looking down at me, as our breathing still stutters, hands roving each other’s bodies. “Rhys, I’ve been at practice for hours. I should shower—”

“Great. I’ve got enough energy for the both of us.” I turn my head into her palm and plant an open mouth kiss there. “Just relax and let me take care of you.”

I put my hands underneath the long length of her shirt, fingertips dancing along the top of her shorts.

“Tell me, Gray. What do you want?”

Her eyes flash, realizing for a moment that I will do whatever she tells me. “I want you to eat me out.”

A groan leaves my throat before I can stop it.

“Thank god,” I whisper, tugging on her shorts until they pool around her ankles. “Do you trust me?”

Her brow furrows, teeth letting go of their tight hold of her bottom lip. “To eat me out? I think so.” Her tone is still sassy, but filled with a distinct breathiness, lusty haze taking over her face.

A part of me—distinctly old Rhys—wants to stop at that answer, to force myself off her until she can say yes. Trust and sex are one and the same, especially for me.

“Please.”

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