Page 40 of The Promises We Break

“When you put a spell on me and nothing in this world could have stopped me from putting my lips on yours?” He yanks me forward so my center is flush with his, then he, softly, so fucking softly, presses his lips to mine. “Or anywhere else on this gorgeous body.” He trails his lips over my jawline to the soft flesh under my ear. “Before, when I had a mind of my own and no idea that someone could make me feel so consumed and possessive, so weak and powerful.”

Releasing my hip, his hand roams loosely over the top of my shirt, caressing me as his lips explore my neck, jaw, chin, collarbone. He kisses me in areas I’ve never been kissed before, that reach areas of my body I didn’t know I had.

My hips act of their own accord and press into his. His groan is long and drawn out as his hips collide with mine, rolling together with perfect rhythm.

A distant honk and a male voice screaming from a drive by car pulls us back into reality.

It’s so easy to get lost in him. Just like on the stage, when we got so lost in each other.

Pulling his hands away from my body, the distance is instant and a devastating relief.

His joggers don’t do him any favors to hide his current state. Not only did I feel everything when he was pressing into me, but now he’s packing what looks like a plumbing pipe between his legs.

He grunts as he pulls away from my neck and looks down at himself and his unavoidable erection, soundlessly chuckling.

“You might be the death of me.” A tone as serious as it is playful.

Reaching over the dash, he grabs the envelope, placing it back in the front compartment, then flips it closed.

Holding out his hand to me, “Come on, little red. Let’s go eat.”

19

HUDSON

Bringing Ember to the restaurant was the only way I was going to keep my hands off her. I have absolutely no resistance in any part of my body when it comes to her.

The most dangerous being the goddamn beating organ in the middle of my chest, protected by a useless cage of taffy textured bones, that can’t seem to think logically when it comes to her.

If I don’t get my actions under control, I’ll end up pushing her away.

I can see it written all over her face. She’s teetering on the edge of running. I’m still shocked she’s here with me now.

We’re seated at a window table, facing each other. She’s rubbing her hands together and picking at her nails nervously, so needless to say, when she wants to talk about the situation we’re in, I’m shocked.

“I think we should figure this out.” She meets my gaze, her gorgeous emerald eyes shining with meaning, and dare I say hope.

“I think so, too. What are you thinking?” I ask, happily giving her all the power I feel she needs.

“Maybe… it could work?” she says so quietly I barely hear it.

I sit up straighter with hope blooming in my chest.

“How long is the season?” she asks, looking down at her hands still kneading into each other.

“Officially… through September, pending playoffs,” I reply, hesitantly, knowing how long that sounds.

Her eyes widen momentarily, but return to a normal size after she exhales a sizable breath.

“Okay, we live together for the season. That’ll keep your coach off your back and my parents off mine. I’ll go to the events you need me to be at, and you can come back home with me for my parents’ anniversary.” Her gaze is still down as she nods, as if she’s trying to talk herself into it. I can’t help but nod along.

“I will contribute to the rent. I won’t be a charity case. I’ll pay my half, and?—”

“Ember,” I interrupt.

“No, Hudson, that’s a deal breaker for me,” she insists.

I put my hands up in surrender, just in time for the food to arrive.

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