Page 86 of Blindside Sinner

She does that moan again. “I’m sorry.”

Kissing her would be so easy right now. I could just… No. This isn’t the time or the place. Not in a parking lot. But I have a point to make. “From now on, you’ll be at every game.”

She nods submissively. Her gaze stays locked onto mine.

“No exceptions.” I’m firm, in charge, vibrating with how much I want to run my hand along her thigh, lift her leg and hitch it over my hip. I want to slide that hand up, touch the wet heat of the fucking promised land—and I want itnow.

For a second, when she murmurs, “Okay,” I think she’s agreeing to my thoughts rather than my words. I wish she was.

But this is almost good enough. Her voice is breathy, then breathless. She shifts and her belly rubs my cock and I could bellow like a wild animal.

I’m one slight grind of her hips from making a fucking fool out of myself, so I step back, smile, and hold out my hand for her. “I’ll drive tonight.”

Then I walk her around the SUV, open her door, and help her in.

I take a moment outside the car to compose myself. This is a dangerous game we’re playing, and I’m not sure who’s winning right now.

But I do manage to walk around the car, mostly upright. So there’s that.

I open the back door, toss my bag into the backseat, then slide behind the wheel. For a second, I don’t move. The car smells like her perfume and I want to inhale deep, fill my lungs with the scent of her.

But I also don’t want to give myself away.

I start the SUV and head for home. We don’t talk, so I have plenty of time to think. And what I come up with is a plan. It’snot a great plan, and it’s probably going to take some finesse, but it’s a plan all the same.

And it’s necessary, because now that I’ve felt her body against mine, I’m not going to be deterred from finding a way to feel itbeneathmine. To feel her skin, slick with sweat, liquid with lust, hot for me in a way only I can make her…

It’s more than a fantasy now. It’s a fucking goal, and I’m not giving in until I have her in my bed, begging for me, for more.

I’m going to have Sloan Reeves.

43

SLOAN

Rusty’s is the same as always, crowded with a slight grease smell permeating the air. The clank of silverware against plates, the ring of the “Order up!” bell, the murmur of indistinct conversations—it all makes this place feel like home to me.

I sip a glass of lemon water while I wait for Monroe and Cassie to get here. I came straight over after I dropped Beck off for his morning skate, so I’ve got a few minutes before they arrive.

I haven’t had a lot of time to myself these days since Beck has become what he calls “attentive.”

I prefer “suffocating.”

Before I can even begin to dissect all the things that have been happening since the Dr. Love debacle, Cass and Roe slide into the booth across from me.

“Well, don’t you look fancy?” Monroe asks with an impressed whistle. She’s referring to the new clothes. The scarf, the silk tank, the kimono length sweater. Gifts. Part of the Beck Daniels bonus plan, I suppose.

“I have so much to tell you guys.”

Mostly, I need their input. Their advice. Their ability to look at this from the outside and tell me what the hell Beck is doing. He’s got some sort of game plan and I can’t figure it out and it’s driving me crazy.

“You’re the one who called this special meeting of the minds,” Cassie says. “So spill. We need all the tea.”

“Well… he sent me on a shopping spree.” I point at the scarf, the shirt, the two hundred dollar jeans.

Monroe widens her eyes in mock horror. “That bastard. The audacity!”

“Right?” I shake my head. “He brought me coffee this morning, too.” They don’t react, so I add, “… In bed.”

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