Page 32 of The Hotshot's Prize
I shift into gear and take off down the road, tension crackling between us, growing heavier with each mile.
She chews her lip, gaze flicking toward me. “This isn’t fair, you know.”
“What’s not?”
“You looking at me like that while I’m dressed like a tired field intern.”
I reach over and take her hand again, squeezing gently. “Baby, I told you what you have on is perfect. I’m just gonna take it off anyway.” I wink at her, noticing the way her thighs squeeze together at my words. “I don’t care what you’re wearing. I care that you’re with me.”
She smiles at me again and it feels like a deadly punch to my guts. I’m down bad for her but I don’t mind one bit.
The rest of the drive is a blur of climbing lust and anticipation. I can barely think straight, my body burning for her all over again. Soon, I pull up in front of my house and I get down to open the door for her. She thanks me with a shy smile, blushing adorably when I take her hand in mine.
I lead her inside, and the second the front door clicks shut behind us, I lose all sense of restraint. I turn on her like a man starved, pressing her back against the wall with my body, my mouth crashing down on hers. She gasps into my mouth, herfingers already tugging at my jacket like she needs it off as much as I need her naked.
Fuck, I’ve missed this.
I’ve missed her.
She clutches the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, like there’s even a single inch left between us. Her lips part, and I take advantage, sweeping my tongue into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. Every soft sound she makes, every moan, every breathy whisper sends heat rocketing through me.
I grip her hips, grinding her against the door, needing her to feel what she does to me. “I’ve thought about this,” I growl against her mouth. “Every damn night since the last.”
“Me too,” she whispers, tugging at my shirt now, desperate and frantic. “Zack…please.”
God, that please could undo me.
I yank my shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere behind me, and her hands are instantly on my chest, trailing over my skin like she’s learning me all over again. Her touch burns. I slide my hands under her flannel, over bare skin, making her arch into me with a soft cry.
She’s not wearing a bra. That detail nearly makes me come undone.
“You knew exactly what you were doing,” I murmur, brushing my thumbs over her peaked nipples, making her shiver.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she pants, and I do, groaning into her mouth as I drag her flannel down her arms and let it fall to the floor.
I cup her ass, lifting her without warning. She wraps her legs around me instinctively, and I carry her through the hallway, bumping into the wall once, then again, because I can’t keep my lips off her long enough to navigate properly.
She laughs breathlessly against my mouth. “You’re obsessed.”
“Damn right I am,” I growl, tightening my hold as I shoulder open the bedroom door. “You’re mine.”
Her eyes flare with heat and something deeper, something that steals the air from my lungs. I drop her gently on the bed, standing at the edge for a second just to take her in. Her flushed skin. Her wild hair. The look in her eyes that says she wants this just as much as I do.
I lean over her, kissing her again, slower this time. Not because I’m calming down. Hell, no. I’m just savoring it. This. Her.
My hand finds the waistband of her jeans, and she lifts her hips, helping me peel them off. I trail kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, my fingers dipping between her thighs to find her already soaked.
Jesus.
“You’re killing me,” I murmur, dragging my fingers along her slick folds, watching her fall apart beneath my touch.
“Then hurry,” she breathes, tugging me back to her. “Zack, I need you. I need all of you.”
I oblige, stripping the rest of my clothes in a hurry. I grab a condom from the drawer, out of habit, but she stops me, hand on mine, her eyes trusting.
She doesn’t need to say a word.
I mutter a soft curse and toss the condom aside, then settle over her again, pausing for a beat. I raise my eyes to hers, our gazes clashing. The tension shifts, burning hotter, but deeper. Real.
