Page 104 of Bitter When He Begs

He groans, head tipping back. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, Sunshine.”

“Not my fault you’re easy to look at,” I mumble, fingers still tangled in the waistband of his shorts like I’m not even trying to pretend I don’t want to drag him somewhere private.

He ducks down again, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth before muttering, “It’s gonna suck not spending time with you again tonight.”

I lean back slightly, eyebrows lifting. “What, you already miss me?”

He smirks but doesn’t deny it. “You still have that project, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, then pause, watching his expression shift like he’s trying not to pout. “But I’ve got about an hour before I need to be anywhere.”

His eyes snap up to meet mine, and for a second, it’s like the entire field disappears around us.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice raspy.

I nod, licking my lips. “Yeah.”

He straightens, hands sliding from my waist to the small of my back like he’s trying to hold himself together while his brain short-circuits. “Wait for me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, stepping back, and grabbing his shirt and towel like his life depends on it. “I’m gonna break the damn shower record.”

I snort. “Please don’t slip and crack your head open. That’d really kill the mood.”

He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he jogs off. “Pretty sure you already killed me with that kiss, baby.”

I roll my eyes so hard they almost fall out of my head, but I’m smiling as I watch him disappear into the locker room, heart hammering like I just made a deal I’m not ready to cash in on.

Because this time, I’m not running from what I want.

I’m standing right in the middle of it. And I’m letting it pull me closer.

Luca

Itakethefastestshower of my life—if you can call it a shower when I’m barely under the water long enough to rinse off the mess Sage left in my head.

The second the water hits, I groan, bracing both hands against the tile as steam curls around me. But it doesn’t help. Doesn’t calm the heat still pulsing in my blood, doesn’t erase the way my heart jumped into my throat when he dragged me down and kissed me like he was starving. My boy has never taken charge like that before, and my cock has been rock-hard ever since.

I dry off with shaking hands, barely get into clean joggers and a tight white tee before I’m out the door, hair dripping down my neck, skin flushed like I’ve been running. Because I am running straight to him.

He’s waiting in the hall like a fucking vision of sin, back against the wall, arms crossed. Cool. Composed. Except I see the way his fingers twitch. The way his legs won’t stay still. The way he’s been biting that bottom lip raw.

When he sees me, he slips off his glasses and grabs me without saying a word. Then he yanks me down the corridor into an empty stairwell and slams me against the wall before crushing our mouths together.

And I lose it.

This raw, hungry, and so fucking possessive Sage Blackwell knocks the air out of my lungs. I groan into his mouth, gripping his hips, yanking him against me, grinding hard enough to make him gasp. His hands fist in my shirt, dragging me down again, and I go willingly.

“Could’ve just told me you wanted me alone, baby,” I murmur, nipping his jaw.

Sage smirks against my mouth. “Shut up, King.”

King.

The name is spat like mockery but meant like sin. My cock twitches so fucking hard I see stars.

I kiss him again, this time deeper, dirtier, tongue pushing past his lips, swallowing the moan he tries to choke down. He fights me with it—clashing teeth, hungry gasps, the kind of kiss that tastes like every fucked-up thing we are, and it drives me insane.

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