Page 2 of Caught Stealing

My lips part, and I’m about to interject his conversation when a familiar voice drags me away from the dark-haired hottie I’m two seconds away from propositioning.

“I thought Oakley was taking you home ten minutes ago.”

Theo.

My gaze shifts to another one of my roommates, and I glare daggers at him. “Wasn’t in the mood to be bossed around by Dad tonight,” I reply, my tone clipped. “So if you’re looking to take over the role, do us all a favor and walk away now.”

Theo’s dark brows hitch over two light green eyes, but there’s more amusement than irritation written in his expression. “Someone’s testy tonight.”

“You would be too if your roommates were trying to babysit you all evening,” I remind him, my own brow arching before allowing my attention to drift back to the guy I came over here for. “Now, you could stop being rude and introduce me to your friend here.”

Understanding about what I’m attempting to do crosses Theo’s features before he lets out a sharp laugh. “Not a fucking chance, Hold.” He glances from me to the sex on a stick beside him before clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m heading out, but you played one helluva game, Merce. Don’t think too hard on it.”

Merce.

Even drunk, I’m able to deduce the nickname must mean he’s one of Theo’s teammates. Meaning Theo could get me an in withMerce—if he was a real friend and roommate.

“Thanks, man,” Merce says, andshit,he has a nice voice. Not too deep, but a little rasp that’s sure to sound phenomenal saying my name while we—

Theo takes a second to clap me on the shoulder too, before leaning in to whisper in my ear. “You’re in the clear. Good luck.”

All right, so maybe Theo is a pretty good roomie for confirming that I wasn’t barking up the wrong tree with his teammate. Something all my roommates have saved me from in the past when it comes to hooking up with the male population of Leighton, especially when I’m too drunk for my gaydar to work.

Merce watches Theo head down the stairs before he drags his attention to me, only to find I’ve been watching him the entire time. His eyes really are dark—almost black in the dim light of the hallway—and they bore into mine with a heated intensity capable of searing me to my bones.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

And tonight, he’s gonna be mine.

A semblance of a smile curls his lips as he leans his shoulder against the wall. “Well, that’s one way to get a guy’s attention.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” I muse, stepping closer to him.

“Apparently so.” His brow lifts, attention flicking between my eyes and my lips. “I’m Phoe—”

“I don’t care,” I mutter, and before I can think, I crush my mouth to his.

No preamble, no names, no more mincing words.

Nothing.

If I was even an ounce more sober, I probably should have exchanged names before straight-up mauling him in the middle of a frat house, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Though I was right about one thing: this is exactly what I needed. Just the feel of his mouth on mine—tongue slipping between my lips on impact—calms the chaos inside my mind. Takes the edge off. Every glide it takes against my own, twisting and tangling in an erotic dance, makes my already drunken brain a little more intoxicated.

Not to mention the way it goes straight to my cock.

He might’ve been surprised initially, but he recovers quickly, only to turn things up a notch. His hands grip either side of my face as he spins us, backing me into a door and turning this kiss into a full-body experience. I feel every hard inch of him when he rolls his hips into mine. Not just of his cock, either. Every toned line and muscle of his body presses against me, crushing me against the wall in a way I’ve never been handled before.

If I wasn’t already intoxicated from the alcohol swimming through my veins, this kiss would easily do the trick.

“Let’s get out of here,” I murmur when he breaks the kiss to bite down the column of my throat.

He nods, hands gripping my hips. “Where?”

I don’t have it in me to wait for an Uber or to walk back to the townhouse, so those are out. “Your place close?”

“Not close enough,” he mutters, the sexy rasp in his voice telling me he’s just as desperate for this as I am.

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