Page 57 of The Thing About My Rival

To be on the safe side, I inch back the blind to check that it’s not an armed robber looking for the night’s takings or something.

Two brown eyes stare back at me from Hugo’s perfect face. The perfect face that has the perfect amount of asmile on it. Not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount that says, “Hi, it’s me again.”

A flutter in my pounding chest ripples down to my belly and settles at my core, where my inner walls throb at the mere sight of him.

My body’s reactions might be beyond my control, but since he’s completely out of bounds and totally wrong for me anyway, there’s no way I’m going to do anything about these thoughts in my head or these feelings in my pants.

Returning his smile, I unlock the deadbolts and open the door. “Did you forget som?—”

The door is snatched out of my hand, Hugo strides in, and his hands are on my face, his mouth on mine.

I freeze for a second, my arms stretched wide like I’m not sure what to do with them.

Which I’m not.

I’m not sure what to do with any part of me.

This is a real kiss. Not like the one on the sideline when we beat Atlanta.

His lips are soft and luscious and taste of beer. The breath through his nose tickles my cheek and, oh dear God, he’s moving his hands down to my waist.

What am I supposed to do? Push him away? Kiss him back? Pass out?

This is a very big decision to have to make in a split second.

Before I can process any part of what’s happening, he eases back a little, just enough to look at me.

“I hate that I can’t remember what it felt like to be with you in Paris.” His breath is fast and heavy. “So how about we make some new memories?”

And I melt. Who knew Hugo freaking Powers had such a way with words? A way that reinforces all the littlesigns of there being a good man inside this handsome lump of muscle and bravado. A way that makes me think it’s somehow okay to do this incredibly dangerous thing right now and worry about the consequences later. A way that makes me reach up, rest my hands on those solid square shoulders, and stare into the depths of his brown eyes—depths he tries to hide but have become so obvious to me.

His hands slide around to the small of my back, shooting sparks up my spine that burst and tingle at the base of my neck.

“This is an incredibly bad idea.” My voice wobbles with excited nerves. “But yes, let’s make some memories.”

Stretching up on my toes, I rest my lips against his. And for only the second time in my life, I let myself give in to pure physical desire.

I don’t think about tonight’s losing game, I don’t think about how the mouth I’m kissing belongs to the rival I need to beat to stay at my beloved club, and I don’t think about how on earth we’re going to deal with this tomorrow.

I want Hugo freaking Powers. I want him now. And he wants me.

And in this moment, those are the only things that matter.

His lips are soft and cushiony. They tease mine open as he grabs my butt and hoists me up in one effortless move.

Wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, I hold on tight.

“Now that I know what it feels like to have your legs around me, I’m never going to forget it.” His breath is heavy against my mouth. “And Christ, you taste good, Wilcox.”

“That’s the Guinness.”

“It’s not. It’s you. The sweet taste of grit and determination.”

And then his tongue is on mine, tasting me with all his might, all his need, and shooting electric tingles to every corner of my body.

He carries me, our mouths locked together, over to the bar and sits me on the edge.

His lips move from my mouth to my neck, and his hands find their way under my shirt.

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