Page 98 of Shutout
“Brooke?”
“I’m trying to behave here.”
I grab his hands against my stomach. “What do you mean, behave?”
“I’m supposed to be your best friend. Iamyour best friend.” His breath fans against my mostly bare back, making my muscles clench at the strength of the sensation. “But I don’t have very friendly thoughts in my mind right now.”
I bite my lip and ask, “What kind of thoughts do you have?”
A dark chuckle follows. “I really want to rip this freaking dress to shreds, throw you against the wall, and kiss you senseless. And more. Definitely more.”
Welp. This is when I collapse against the wall. It feels like ice against my forehead.
“Okay, let’s be rational here,” I say with a choked up voice. “If you rip out the dress, we’ll have to pay for it and I still won’t have something to wear for the gala.”
Brooklyn snorts. But then he spins me around, and he doesn’t have to throw me against the wall. The heat in his eyes alone is enough to melt me against it.
He leans an arm against the wall just over my head, and the posture brings his face almost level with mine. His eyes roam all over my face, as if searching for something. And for the first time since I’ve been crushing on him, I don’t care if he can see how smitten I am. I run the tip of my tongue across my lips, savoring the coffee of his breath against them already.
Brooke sucks in air through his teeth, as if my gesture physically hurt him. Faster than a lightning bolt, he holds the side of my neck and pulls me against him. His thumb runs down the length of my jaw until tucks under my chin to tip my head back. His eyes steal the breath from me.
“Liv. If we do this, we’ll cross a line there’s no coming back from.” I’m sure he can feel the rapid pulse at the base of my throat against the heel of his hand, or how hard I swallow. His breathing is already fast, as if he’d been running to thismoment. “If I kiss you right now, it won’t be as a stranger. It sure as hell won’t be as a friend either.”
“I know,” I whisper, my hands sneaking under his coat to fist around his sweatshirt.
“Is that what you want?” His jaw tightens as he swallows. “Say it.”
“What?” I couldn’t say my name right now if I had to.
“Say that you want me to kiss you right now.”
“I… want…” I look into his eyes as I say, “You.”
His mouth crashes against mine and I close my eyes, melting against him. I’d never describe our first kiss as sweet, but this one is downright bruising.
Brooklyn pushes his lips against mine, coercing my jaw open. I tilt my head back to give him full access, and we both moan when our tongues meet. His free hand slides down my back to the mound of my butt cheek, squeezing tight, bringing me flush against him and I gasp. But then, as his lips close around mine, that hand keeps going down until I feel a rush of air.
He tears his mouth away from mine and I open my eyes, about to protest. Except now Brooke drags both of his hands up my thighs, pulling the fabric of the dress up. I watch, confused but not upset at all. It only clicks when he wraps his hands around the back of my thighs and lifts me up.
Yelping, I close my arms around his neck so I don’t slide right back down. Brooklyn looks up at me, eyes dark and hooded even as he smirks. “Don’t worry, I’d never let you fall.” He pushes me against the wall, hands sliding down my thighs until he wraps my legs around him.
I gasp. Joke’s on him, I already fell a long time ago.
“Shut up and kiss me again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
This time it’s not as urgent. He kisses my bottom lip with all the care in the world, like maybe he knows it’s alreadythrobbing and swollen. But then he closes his teeth around it, so soft it doesn’t hurt, but I feel the scrape of his teeth all the way down to my toes. The moan that tears out of my throat is so not safe for all audiences.
“Damn, you’re so hot,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing me hard once more. I grab a fistful of his hair, clench my legs tighter, and he’s still not close enough. One of his hands holds my weight firmly under one thigh, but the other one travels higher. Not high enough. Not fast enough. And then his pants start buzzing.
Our mouths make a shocking sound as we separate. I keep my eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if I open them, there’ll be stars dancing around his face.
We both breathe hard—him more so. Which is funny, seeing as he’s the elite athlete here. His forehead rests on mine, our noses against each other. “I think that’s my alarm to head to practice,” he says in a low, husky voice that raises a shiver out of me.
By slow increments, I open my eyes to meet his. “Okay,” I whisper. “Go.”
He nods. “I’m going.”
