Page 87 of Bitter Beats

Her eyes widen, searching mine. “You mean, that paparazzo on the Snow Day… It wasn’t part of a plan?”

I rear back like she slapped me. “A plan?” I echo. Hurt burns through me, singeing some of my drunkenness and offering me twenty-twenty vision for a handful of seconds. “That’s what this is about? You thought I… Jesus, Mckenna, I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out what the hell changed between us. No, it wasn’t a plan. Every time I’ve kissed you, hell, every time I look at you, it’s because I fucking want you. Desperately.” My voice cracks.

“But you’re my friend,” she murmurs. “You see me as a friend. Right?”

“Fuck, yes. I see you as a friend.”

Her eyebrows tug together and her mouth twists.

“That’s the foundation. And then, I see you as so much more. I want you in ways that go way beyond friendship.”

Her expression softens as understanding washes over her face. Her eyes glitter in the moonlight that streams into our suite. It has two bedrooms but tonight, we’ll only need one. There’s no way I’m letting this moment pass without making sure Mckenna knows exactly how I feel about her.

I’m all in.

“Mav.” Her eyelids flutter, and she grips my shoulders tighter. Going up on her tippy toes, she presses her mouth against mine. Her lips are soft, her touch gentle. Exploratory.

When her tongue slips out and licks against the seam of my lips, I part mine and kiss her back. A growl rumbles through my chest, and my hands squeeze her waist.

Then, I pick her up, carry her to my bed and kick the door closed behind me.

“Tell me what you want, Mckenna,” I bite out. “Exactly what you want; I need to hear you say it.”

“You,” she replies. Her voice is husky. Her eyes are dark with want. They shimmer with relief that causes a crack to reverberate through my chest.

She thought I was playing her. That I wasn’t feeling this the same way she is. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I let out a shaky exhale and drop to her delectable body, giving her exactly what she wants.

Taking just what I need.

Her. It’s always been her.

TWENTY-NINE

MCKENNA

Mav’s mouthslides along my neck, and I arch into him, desperate to feel his hands on my skin. I run my fingers through his hair, clutching at the base of his neck, as I turn my head.

His lips find mine, and our kiss is hard. It brims with desire and overflows with want. His hands grip my hips and pull me up against his frame as his chest pins me to the mattress.

We come together wildly. Months of pent-up heat and weeks of frustration detonate as I arch into him. I link my legs around Mav’s waist, tugging him against my body. Our tongues coax each other into submission as our limbs wrestle for control.

Our recklessness softens. Our heat simmers.

I’m so tired of pushing him away. Of trying to shut this down when I crave it. I don’t want to deny myself—or him—of this any longer. For months, Mav has showed up for me in ways no man ever has. And tonight, right now, he’s everything I want.

My hands track up the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest until I can remove his shirt. His fingers are nimble as they pull down the zipper of my dress. He peels it off and discards it on the floor.

Leaning back, he drinks me in and whistles low. “Fuck, you’re too damn much.”

“Mav,” I whimper, nearly coming undone by the look in his eyes.

It’s more than lust. It’s awe. Genuine, uncensored, and raw.

God, he makes me feel things I’ve never experienced before. How could I pretend friendship would be enough? How could I lie to myself?

“Never gonna deserve you, Mckenna.” His voice is a low growl.

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