Page 36 of Game Changer

I swear I hear his teeth grind.

“Not the way you’d want to.”

“How do you know what I’d want?”

“You’re coming off a breakup,” he goes on, ignoring my question. “You should be handled with care.”

My head falls back in a helpless gesture. “Honestly? I just want to be handled.”

I’m in Denver for my sister, to prove that I have my life together—not to throw myself at a basketball star who’s probably visited more vaginas than cities.

But all I can think about since the plane ride is how horny I am. I’m aching for pleasure and connection.

The radio’s still on, playing an old Drake song. I want to reach for the dashboard and turn it up until it vibrates through every inch of me.

“Do you have Miles’ number?” My voice is steady. “Because I kind of thought we had a vibe in the kitchen and—”

“You’re not dating Miles,” Clay interrupts sharply.

“I never said date.” I let that settle between us. “Maybe he’ll take me to get my tattoo.”

Clay’s gaze drops to my mouth, lingering.

“Nova.”

My name is a warning, for him or me, I’m not sure. His hands are a weight against my hip, his warmth permeating my clothes.

“What?”

The drumming of my heart picks up. The air between us crackles with electricity, pulling us closer.

“Don’t pout,” he rasps, his voice the ominous roll of thunder. “I’m selfish enough to give you what you think you want.”

My heart skips.

What I want? What about what he wants?

Because the tight line of his jaw says he’s fighting himself.

We’re a breath apart, close enough to feel each other’s warmth. His woodsy scent fills my nostrils with a heady, dizzying aroma.

I’m a bound sacrifice tied up in front of a sexy monster. One that’s looking at me as though he can’t decide whether I’m entertaining or maddening.

I should be nowhere near this man, and yet here I am in a car with him, feeling strangely empowered by his presence.

“You’re right,” I whisper. “If I’m going to make a mistake tonight, better to make one that doesn’t leave a mark.”

I reach up to brush my lips across his.

At the first touch of our skin, a shiver of desire floods me, zinging through my breasts, my stomach, and all the way down to my thighs.

Clay’s mouth is softer than I expect. His closeness is a drug all its own.

He doesn’t kiss me back, but doesn’t pull away either. He’s a rock wall, firm and unyielding.

It’s an act. It has to be.

Even if he isn’t starved for me like I am for him, he’s attracted. Curious.

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