Page 54 of Rule 5: Never Crush on the Captain
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vinnie
Evan’s skin prickles with heat, and I decide that this conversation would be much better if it took place without shirts. In fact, this conversation would be much cooler if it took place without words, and we just continue kissing.
I pull away from him. He whimpers, and I yank off his shirt, yank off mine. Then we’re in each other’s arms again. Our lips are once again dancing. His mouth is heaven itself when he sucks on my tongue.
I wriggle free from my pants, flopping on the bed. It’s not the shortest way to undress, technically, but I’m not breaking connection with Evan again. He’s following me, and we flay on the blankets and pillows, undoing all the housekeepers’ good work.
Finally, we’re naked. I tangle our legs together. Only then do I relax, allowing Evan’s warmth to surge through me. Every cell in my body throws a celebration. Evan is a lifetime of Christmases and birthdays and fourth of Julys. He is cozy blankets and bright balloons and boat rides on a lake.
I glide my hands along his naked form, feeling the firm muscles beneath his skin. I brush my hands from his trapezius to his lats, then I trace my hands over the curve of his waist, lingering briefly until I reach his gluteus maximus, my personal favorite.
“Vinnie,” he moans.
I grin and decide to suckle the thin skin on his neck below his ears. He pants, and I slide my tongue upward and capture the lobes of his ears in my mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he murmurs.
“In the best way?”
“The absolute best way.”
His heart surges beneath mine, hammering against his ribs as if frantic to meet mine. Well, that makes two hearts.
“I want us to be together,” I say.
“We are together,” he says, his voice firm. “We’re a couple.”
“Stella is going to give me a talking to.”
He snorts. “You deserve it.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur again.
“You were trying to protect me. You always try to protect me. It’s what you do.” His looks turns stern. “And now you can start asking me what kind of protection I want.”
“Deal.”
“You haven’t told me what I can do.”
“You’re already perfect, Evan. You always have been.”
“No one’s perfect.”
“Well,” I admit. “Maybe you weren’t perfect for Valentina. But I’m pretty sure I have lots of fans who would gladly battle alongside me in defending your overall awesomeness.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“But maybe I should do a thorough inspection of your body just to make certain.”
“Such competence.”
I move my hand along his high, hockey-perfected ass. Then I still, my fingers slowing. Something catches in my heart.
“Hey,” Evan says, his voice soft. “I know how it works.”
“Maybe you won’t like it.”
