Page 23 of The Players

When he grabbed my hand and held it, my eyes flicked to his face. Lowell was normally so gruff, but, right now, his eyes were soft, his lips parted. He looked… gentle. Kissable. My body responded to his closeness. My chest began to heave, and my thighs quivered.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I breathed, not knowing what to say. “All of you were hurt because of me.”

“They can hurt me all they want as long as they keep their hands off you. I meant what I said. No one gets to touch you, Princess. Not if I’m around.”

The possession in his voice scared me, but it also intrigued me, too. And it was doing wonders for the tingling sensations radiating down my thighs. We should be serious and plan our next moves, but it had been a while since I felt good about anything.

“We should go check on Mills.”

Lowell shook his head and took a step forward, closing the gap between us again. He brushed my damp hair back from my neck, letting his fingers trail along the sensitive skin of my collarbone. “He’s a big boy, and he’s got Hector. Right now, you need comforting.” He trailed a finger over my lips.

I moaned gently. “What if they hear us?”

His lips curled up in his first smile. “Let them. I like an audience.”

Lowell shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Then he reached back and pulled off his white T-shirt.

I stared at his bare chest, so chiseled and muscular it made me want to cry and worship at his feet all at the same time. Perfect abs. Perfect pecs. That perfect V. His ink swirled over his skin, those tentacles curled down one arm and over his shoulder. There were other tattoos instead. Some words in Latin. A paw print. I wanted to ask him what each meant, but there were other things on my mind. Mainly, his body in front of me and the heat between my legs. Next, I focused on the bruises marring his beautiful skin. The dunk tank hadn’t been the only thing that hurt him. Other bruises were forming on his ribs from being punched.

I walked up, touching each with the pads of my fingers. I glanced up at his face. “Who did this to you?”

He sucked in a breath as my fingers traced over his abs. “You know who. But it doesn’t hurt. They can’t hurt me. Not like that.”

I touched a bruise on his shoulder. Then, I pressed my lips to his skin.

Lowell moaned as his arms circled around me, drawing me in. Every inch of my body came alive, awake with the knowledge that Lowell was so close, that his skin was as soft as his words were rough.

“Let me make you feel good. Just for a few minutes.”

My mouth curled up as I locked eyes with him. “If you insist.”

“I do,” he growled.

Then he walked us backward until our bodies slammed against the far wall.

I wrapped my arms around him, marveling at how huge he was. His body dwarfed my bed, but I didn’t have time to think for long as Lowell started to kiss me.

His lips were soft and urgent. A warmth radiated from my chest as a tingle began lower. I opened my mouth to let Lowell in.

He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey, a taste I’d started to crave since being with him. He tasted like sin and sex, danger and dreams. I loved how his huge body pinned me to the wall. I loved when he pushed up my shirt, his hand gripping my tit through my bra and squeezing it. I trembled and arched into him, wanting nothing between us.

“Lowell,” I whispered as his mouth found my neck, sucking and biting. The sensation distracts me as the tingle in my core intensifies.

I shifted against him until his hardness pressed against my core with only a few slips of fabric between us. He felt so good there that I arched my hips and ground against his shaft. Lowell hissed, gritting his teeth. “Why do you always tease me, Princess?”

“I like to tease you.” I offered him a smirk. “I like to make tough Lowell Mueller tremble.”

The look of desire that broke over Lowell’s face could not be faked. “I’ll make you forget tonight even happened. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like heaven,” I whispered.

His hand slipped under the fabric of my bra, the pad of his thumb finding my nipple and circling. I arched again, moaning as the tingles intensified.

“Goddamn, Princess,” he says. “I’ll never get over how amazing your tits are.”

“They’re yours right now.”

His brow furrowed. “They’re mine,” he growled.

---