Page 30 of Madden

“Only one of us is allowed to have our minds in the gutter, Brielle, or else tonight will end up going differently than I planned. I’m trying to prove I want more than to pin you against the wall and finish what we started outside Whiskey Barrel.”

“Madden,” she hums, her voice dropping low.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about how I wish I could bend you over your desk or how badly I want you on your knees for me.”

She gasps. I roll my eyes closed, picturing her kneeling in front of me.

“Mmm. Soon, though,” I whisper.

I imagine her soft skin flushed from the heat of my words, her chest heaving with the force of her heavy pants filtering through the phone.

“I’ll see you soon, Brielle,” I force myself to say, not wanting to end the conversation now.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Damn, I have it bad for this woman.

I stand in my room, rubbing my fingers over my eyes and thinking about anything I can to get the brick in my pants to go down.

I get to see Brielle again. The thought alone isn’t helping.

“I’m gonna take off here for a bit. Maybe go grab a drink or something,” I say, shutting the door to my room behind me.

I try to play it off cool, but I catch Trey and Tysin eyeing me for a moment.

“You want us to come with you? I wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink,” Tysin says.

“Honestly, I think I’d like some fresh air away from all the people. I wouldn’t mind being alone.”

Even the words sound like a lie coming from me. When have I ever turned down going out with the guys?

It’s been a long day, and we’ve been on the go since we landed last night.

“You good?” Trey asks.

I nod. “Never been better.”

He studies me, flicking his gaze over to Tysin.

For as much as these two hated each other in the beginning, they are thick as thieves now. I know they’re both wondering what the hell is going on, but I’m not about to stick around and let them dissect it further.

“I won’t be out late,” I say, swiping my leather jacket off the chair and ducking my head, escaping out the door of our suite.

Abel’s room is next to ours. We told him he could relax for a bit, but if I tried to leave without telling him, I’d only dig a deeper hole to bury myself under a heap of questions later.

I tap my knuckle against his door. The lock clicks before he swings it open. His brows deepen.

“Everything good?” he asks, on high alert.

“Yeah, I’m taking off. I was hoping you could give me a lift.”

He nods. “Yeah, sure, no problem. Give me a second.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs. I have somethin’ I need to do first,” I say, taking off down the hall toward the elevator.

I didn’t need him to follow every step I took. I was doing enough by asking him to come with me. He had the keys, and I needed the ride.

Now I need to do some sweet-talkin’ to the hotel manager for what I have up my sleeve.

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