Page 124 of Burn

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

With that, he claims my mouth. It’s deep and intense, and when he wraps a strong arm around my body, I shift into his lap. Around us, the crowd cheers and teases, but we push the kiss further, losing ourselves to it. It’s only when the guy behind us slams a hand onto Adrian’s shoulder that we break apart.

“You guys are on theJumbotron!” he yells, pointing up.

Sure enough, the video on theJumbotronis me in Adrian’s lap. The words, ‘Penalty: Too Hot for the Jumbotron’flash across the screen. I scurry off his lap and back to my seat, embarrassment turning my face red.

Adrian shakes with laughter next to me, and I may never recover from this. On national television, making out with this man. Within minutes, Adrian reaches into his pocket and produces his cell phone. He studies it for a minute before letting out a barking laugh and passing it to me.

A group chat on the screen is filled with messages from his teammates about the video of us kissing.

‘Take your clothes off!’

‘Get a room!’

‘Liberty and his dream girl’

‘Way to go, Libby!’

‘Why haven’t you ever kissed me like that?’

The last one is from Ronan and leaves me wheezing from laughing.

Adrian’s hand is on my leg, and it stays there through the rest of the game. The Bruins win — I think. A loud buzzer sounds through the arena, and before it’s silent, Adrian is on hisfeet, pulling me up. His eyes are dark, and his voice is low when he murmurs, “Let’s get outta here.”

I nod and allow him to lead me out of the arena. The Boston night is cold, and his breath curls in wisps. As we wait for an Uber, he wraps his arms around me, pulling my back into his chest, and slides his hand under my shirt. His fingers press into my skin, and heat floods my center. Our car is pulling up, but before he releases me, he nuzzles his face into my neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin, and says, “You’re mine, Donnelly.”

Goosebumps explode across my flesh and my pussy fucking aches with need for him. The ride to our hotel is short, and he keeps his gaze fixed on the passing city. I watch the way his jaw muscles flex and strain, and when we stop in front of our hotel, he doesn’t open my door for me. He pulls me out after him in one swift motion. It’s rough, and I stumble over the curb.

“Adrian,” I gasp. “Why are you being so pushy?”

I feel like a fucking baby deer trying to find my legs, and his response does nothing to steady me. “If I’m not inside of you in the next sixty seconds, I might literally fucking die, so let’s go.”

We ride the elevator with an older couple who make small talk with us. Well, with me, since Adrian stands there silently, his face set into a straight line. He practically shoves past them when the door opens on our floor, and I call bye over my shoulder.

“You’re being ridiculous! That was rude.” I huff, patience wearing thin.

He responds with silence, fumbling with the room key and muttering under his breath.

It’s kind of hilarious, and I have to bite back a laugh.

You’d think the guy never gets laid.

The door slams shut, sealing us inside our massive, dark suite. I kick my shoes off, and when I spin around, Adrian is breathing hard, dark eyes fixed on me.

“Strip,” he commands. I open my mouth to tell him to ask nicely, but he adds, “Now.”

Here’s what I’ve realized in the last year with this man: I’m stubborn. I work a job that requires me to be commanding, demanding, and in charge. In the bedroom, however? I don’t want to think. I don’t want to be in charge. I want him to set the pace and allow me to disconnect. Which works out well since he’s bossy as fuck.

My hands tremble with anticipation. I love sex with Adrian. I love that he always surprises me. I grab the hem of my shirt and slowly lift it. When my chest is bare, but before I’ve gotten past my head, I feel his hands on me. He uses my shirt to restrain my arms, blocking my eyes, and claims my mouth. His tongue explores me, tastes me, and after a second, I’m weightless as he lifts me and carries me back, dropping me in the bed.

“Don’t move.”

When he’s sure I’m listening, he steps away. I can hear him shuffling through one of our bags, and I squirm, rubbing my thighs together. Between the darkened room and my shirt over my eyes, I need to rely on sound, and for someone as large as he is, he’s so light on his feet. When he leans his knee between my legs, I start and let out a breathy gasp. His fingers work the button on my jeans, and when he slowly lowers the zipper, I lift my hips so he can drag them off.

He moves so slow. It’s the best kind of torture. He kisses my clit through my panties, and I moan, pressing my hips upinto him. His deep chuckle rumbles against me. The vibrations cause me to throb and clench.

“Fuck. Adrian!” I groan.

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