Page 43 of Play Maker

“Do not parrot Skinner again and say awkward.”

“I think we need to—” He stops when I start walking toward the closet. “Where are you going?”

“Narnia.”

I walk into the closet, push aside the coats, and open the door that leads into the little closet in my room.

“What the hell is this?”

“Was going to have a massive closet instead of a spare room. Still will one day.” I turn around and face him as I tighten my ponytail. “You should shut the door.”

“Lo, this could get complicated.”

I decidefuck itand close the door myself. Lock it, too, since who knows if Jackson or even Skinner will walk in here.

“I’m not asking for a ring. Don’t want your money; got my ow—” I turn around and see him ducking under the door that separates the closets. “Where are you going?”

Dammit, I think as I palm my face. In what messed-up dimension does sixty-eight plus one equal zero? No eleven needed; it’s now totally awkward.

When he walks back out of my closet with a smirk playing on his lips, I feel my chest rise and fall with my breaths. My breasts become heavier, my abdominal muscles tighten, that heavy pull increases, and my knees … they go weak. And that’s all before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside.

So hot I can almost hear the air sizzle.

“Music?”

His question has me stuck in my damn hoodie. “I don’t need all that,” I growl when my hair gets caught in God only knows what.

His hands are on me, helping me as he says, “You’re not a screamer, but those pretty sounds you make, guessing they carry in here, and I’m not about to share that with Skinner.”

He pulls my hoodie off me. “I’d have to end him.”

The effect his bod has on me is one thing, but his sweet … naughties, they are terrifying in the most satisfying way.

I hitrandomon my music app and the song “Do I Wanna Know” comes on.

His lips crash into mine. Within seconds, I’m on my back, in my bed, and he’s settled between my thighs with an almost unhinged look in his soul-deep brown eyes as he pulls my joggers and panties off in one fluid motion. He pushes his hands under my ass and grips tightly as he lifts me to meet his open mouth.

I fist the sheets as I look down at him, those beautiful eyes framed with thick black lashes—stunning. My muscles tense in anticipation but only for a breath before his tongue darts out, licks his lips, and then slices into me.

“Oh, damn,” I cry softly as he continues licking me hard and slow, avoiding where I want him the most.

I look down at him—broad shoulders, bulging muscles, his broad chest, seriously perfect man nips.

His hand moves now. He pinches my clit between his fingers. I squirm, mouth open with nothing coming out, as he licks and sucks before slowly rolling his tongue along my clit, and then he begins fingering me, filling me, first with one finger, then two.

“I’m gonna … do that thing.” My knees clamp around his ears as I start rubbing against his face.

“Fuck, Lauren, so hot.” He pushes up onto his knees, bringing me with him, the lower half of my body no longer touching the mattress—I’m on his face.

“You taste so incredible. I’m not going to stop until you’re begging for more,” he promises.

The mix of arousal and vulnerability builds within me, and I take control of the situation. “Hold on,” I manage to say as I position myself differently.

“Jesus, Lo,” he says, gripping my ass that’s now basically in his face as I hover over him.

He lets out a sexy groan when he feels my hand wrap around his impressive length. Even though last night happened, I had no idea just how big he is.

He’s hard and soft, veiny, but just the right amount. All this is … a lot.

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