Page 72 of The Wrong Play

My jaw dropped, heat flooding my cheeks.

Danny’s eyes widened, and he practically leapt out of the booth. “I think—uh—I should go?—”

“No, stay,” I said desperately, reaching out for his arm like a woman possessed. Jace laughed, standing now, towering over the booth.

“Let him run, Riley,” he said, stepping around to loom in front of Danny, his grin dark. “He knows what’s good for him. He knows when he’s out of his league.” He leaned down until he was right in front of Danny’s terrified looking face. “Andhe knows that he should never have gotten close to what’smine.”

Danny literally squeaked. He grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door, the chime filling the restaurant as he fled.

Jace slid into Danny’s empty seat across from me, leaning back like he’d won.

“You’re a bastard,” I snapped, grabbing my water glass and throwing the rest of it back. My pulse was racing, heat pooling low despite my fury. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me,” he said, grinning, unrepentant as he reached across to snag a bite of my discarded carbonara. “And you love it.”

“You scared him off like a psycho. Why can’t you just take the hint? I’m not going out with you!” My voice was shaking, and his presence was overwhelming me, like the table between us didn’t even exist. His knee brushed mine.

“A psycho?” He smirked, leaning in, his hand sliding to my thigh, firm and possessive. “You haven’t evenseenpsycho yet.” His smile dropped. “Danny was lucky. If something like that ever happens again…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and it was like a mask had slipped from his face. His fingers squeezed, andI sucked in a breath, caught between shoving him off and pulling him closer.

“Jace…” I started, but he stood, tugging me up, his grip unrelenting.

“Let’s go,” he said roughly, his eyes burning as he threw cash on the table. “We’re done here.”

I should’ve fought, I should’ve yanked free, but my body betrayed me, following him out into the night, the cool air hitting my flushed skin as he hauled me to his Jeep parked across the street. The restaurant’s warm glow faded behind us, but all I could feel was him, his heat, his pull, his stupid, obsessive need that I couldn’t escape.

Jace sat me in the backseat of his Jeep, the door slamming shut with a bang that echoed in the empty lot. I barely caught my breath when the opposite door was yanked open and Jace was in the backseat with me, all muscle and hunger.

The air was thick, heavy with the scent of his woodsy cologne, sweat from practice, and the faint tang of turf clinging to his skin. His hands were everywhere, gripping my hips, yanking my sweater up, and tossing it aside. His fingers, rough and calloused from football, scraped across my stomach, igniting every nerve, and I gasped as I gripped his shirt, the hard planes of him unyielding under my palms.

“Jace, wait. We should talk about this!” I tried to reason with him. He just smirked, catching my wrists and pinning them above my head with one hand, the leather creaking under me as I squirmed. His other hand shoved my bra up, baring my breasts, my nipples tightening in the cool air. He groaned, low and guttural, his mouth dropping to one nipple as he suckedhard. The wet heat of his tongue flicked over me, his teeth grazing just enough to sting, and my back arched into him despite my protests.

I could complain all I wanted, but one thing was absolutely true. My body fucking loved this.

“Yeah, let’s talk about this,” he growled against my skin, his voice rough as he bit down lightly, then sucked again, harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “Let’s talk about how you went on this date just to try and push me away. Again. Let’s talk about what an asswipe that guy was. How you couldn’t stop thinking about me the entire time. Let’s talk about how there’s not a replacement for me. Forus.” His voice bounced off the Jeep’s fogging windows. “Let’s talk about it, Riley-girl. Whatcha have for me?”

I writhed against him, my shoes scraping the seat, the leather starting to get slick with our combined heat. “You’re right. About all of it,” I panted, but my hands, freed now, fisted his shirt, yanking it up and over his head. My nails raked down his back, digging into the taut muscle, tracing the lines of his spine. He hissed, his head lifting up. I followed the bend of his throat. His sweat-slicked skin…his perfect abs that had ruined today in the first place. It felt like I was burning alive. “But you’re still insane.”

“I’m insane for you,” he muttered, as his mouth moved to my other breast, licking and biting, leaving a trail of red marks across my chest like a map of his claim. His tongue swirled, teasing, then plunged lower, licking a slow, deliberate line down my sternum, tasting the salt of my skin. I moaned again, my head tipping back, thudding against the window, the glass cool against my scalp as his hands slid to my jeans, popping the button with a flick of his thumb.

“Jace,” I whimpered, my hips jerking as he shoved them down my thighs, taking my panties with them in one rough,impatient pull. I kicked them down my legs, the denim tangling around my boots for a second before I shook them both off. I was almost naked, sprawled out in the cramped back seat. The air inside the cab was muggy, and his body was a furnace, pinning me, his knees spreading my legs wide, exposing me completely.

He pulled back, his eyes raking over me, and I could only imagine what I looked like right now, flushed, sprawled out for him. His smirk turned feral…as if he could read my mind.

“Fuck, look at you,” he said hoarsely, his voice thick with need as he undid his jeans, shoving them down just enough for his cock to spring free—thick, hard, glistening at the tip. My breath caught, my thighs clenching as I stared, the sight releasing every dirty thought I’d had since that picture he’d sent me.

“You look a little hungry, Riley-girl,” he taunted, gripping my hips, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he pulled me under him with a possessive yank.

“Asshole,” I muttered, but my voice was a wreck. I wrapped my legs around him as I urged him closer. His lips curled as he dragged his cock along my inner thigh, teasing, the slick heat of him brushing my skin, leaving a trail of precum that made me squirm.

“Please,” I begged, my hands sliding to his shoulders as I tried to pull him down. He laughed, low and dark, positioning himself, the head of him nudging against me, hot and insistent.

He locked eyes with me as he thrust in…slow at first, stretching me inch by agonizing inch, filling me until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I cried out, sharp and desperate, the sound echoing off the foggy glass, and he groaned, burying his face in my neck.

His breath scorched against my skin, the heat of him searing me from the inside out. Every slow, deliberate thrust sentanother wave of pleasure crashing through me, my body arching instinctively, needing more—needing him.

Jace groaned, his hands gripping my hips, holding me exactly where he wanted. “Tell me,” he rasped, his voice thick with something darker, something possessive. “Tell me you didn’t want to be there with him.”

I gasped as he thrust deeper, my nails digging into his shoulders, but I didn’t answer.

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