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His gaze runs over me from my lips down to my toes in a line so hot I feel like checking for burns.
Behind me, women are hollering and guys are pointing at the Kodiaks.
The bartender taps me on the back, motioning urgently at me to get off the bar.
Clay’s hands find my hips, and he leans over my lap to talk to the bartender. “She’s fine where she is.”
The guy backs off.
“Nice hair,” Clay says when he straightens. His hand hasn’t moved from my hip.
“Thanks.” I twist a piece in my fingers. “Heard you’ve been playing ball.”
“He’s rough around the edges but it’ll come back,” Miles says.
Clay cuts him off with a warning look.
“What are you doing here?” I call.
“I felt like going out but should’ve stayed in. Some chick is texting me pics.”
I cross my legs, and my skirt rides up. “Damned Kodashians. She president of your fan club or something?”
Clay does a slow sweep of my body. “I’m president of hers.”
The buzz in my system is arousal—and him.
No one ever made me feel like I matter just for existing.
I reach for his arms to pull him closer, my fingers digging into the muscles as if I can leave my own marks under the swirls of ink. “I’m glad you’re here.” It’s half shout, half murmur near his ear.
Clay’s face angles toward mine. “How glad?”
It’s a dare, and a tease.
The music pulses through the counter, a mass of bodies writhing in the background, all of it saying to live for today. Not worry about tomorrow.
I lean forward and grab the back of his neck, pulling him toward me.
There’s no way of saying whether my lips find his first or his find mine. I don’t even care. I kiss him as if we’re the only people in the room.
The only people on the planet.
He’s hot and hard and so familiar that some part of me deep down throbs in recognition.
He tastes like an addiction I swore I’d kicked but now I can’t imagine going without.
“Shit,” I blurt as I tear my mouth away.
I slide off the counter and across the room, tripping down the hall to one of the bathrooms.
I tug the door after me and brace myself over the sink, starting at my reflection.
I’m sweaty and wide-eyed.
What am I doing?
We’re supposed to be on a break.
