Page 59 of Shot Taker

When he started to sink inside me, I thought it was a mistake. Like he might tear me in half and I would be the stupid girl who thought this was physically possible despite obvious visual clues to the contrary.

I can’t decide if I deserve a medal for taking him or if he deserves one for, I don’t know… just being Clay Wade?!

“Nova!” Brooke calls again. “Are you awake? I need to ask you something important!”

I try to free myself from the arm, but it only bands tighter. Clay mutters against my neck, his monster dick growing more insistent against my ass.

“Let me go, you brute,” I mutter.

“Never.”

My heart skips, and my grip on his arm loosens for a moment.

When I relax, he does too, and I catch him in a moment of weakness and dive out of bed. Tucking a robe from my closet around me, I turn back to see him watching me through dark slits of eyes.

“Morning, Pink.”

Damn if he doesn’t look sexy as hell naked in my bed, like every dream I’ve ever had only better.

“Brooke’s home. Don’t come out until I say so,” I warn.

He flips a palm, noncommittal.

I glare as I let myself out, pulling the door closed behind me.

My roommate is in the kitchen, making eggs.

“What was the question?” My voice comes out raspy. I clear my throat.

“Christmas. The guys are playing Christmas Day, but we always have dinner together after. You should join.”

I bite my lip. “Mari texted me about it yesterday and invited me to spend Christmas with her and Harlan.”

“We’ll do the entire family.” Before I can answer, Brooke’s gaze cuts over my shoulder. “Morning, Clay.”

“Morning.” I turn to find him wearing sweatpants and nothing else.

He looks like some Marvel-movie god, his muscles rippling under the tattoos. He takes up half the living room.

“Great flowers you sent last week,” Brooke offers. “Five stars.”

“Glad you like them. Wasn’t sure Nova did.” He drops into a chair at the table.

My mouth works for a moment before I can produce sound. “Um. Clay was just—”

“Sneaking out the morning after.”

“That’s not it,” I start.

Brooke crosses to the coffee table and grabs the wad of fabric off it, tossing it at Clay. He catches it. He starts to tug the shirt on but, at my perusal, thinks better of it.

His wink when he catches me looking makes me want to die.

Oh my God.I wish for the days before I hooked up with a hot athlete and my body took over my brain.

“I’m sure you have questions,” I say to my roommate, trying to be mature about this.

“Not really. I know you guys split, but as long as it’s consensual, I get it. Girl’s gotta get hers. He’s convenient,” Brooke offers.

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