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“Save it.” She cuts me off with a raise of her hand. “I don’t want to hear you anymore, Warren.” She’s back to that cocky little attitude of hers, and it’s only making me want her more. “You see, where I’m from…you don’t start something unless you’re going tofinishit.”
Her words flip something inside of me, my judgment clouding with pure desire at the sight of her as I lock my gaze in.She has no idea who she's playing against right now. Absolutely no fucking idea.
I remain silent, pursing my lips together as I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the room as I step toward her.
For a moment, I partially allow my eyes to brush over her body, an action that doesn’t make her cower in the slightest. A part of me wants her to, but the other part likes how she’s not backing down without a fight.
It’ll make this more fun.
Finally, I reach her, brushing a piece of her hair away from her face as I lean in to murmur against her lips. “You really think I won’t, don’t you?” I say with a kiss of my teeth.
She looks up at me with intrigue and submission in her eyes. “Won’t what?”
This time, I can feel the vibration of my own voice as I speak these words to her. “Won’t fuck youright here in this changing room, Delaney?”
Somehow, my voice comes out quiet, though part of me wants people to hear. I want them to know what’s mine. What is about to be mine. What has always been mine.
I can hear the breath hitch in the back of her throat as she bites down on her lower lip, her wide eyes looking up at me with innocence despite the sinful thoughts that I know are running through her mind.
“I don't know.” She teases. “Will you?”
I carefully brush my thumb over her bottom lip, knowing I’d give up all rationality for one more taste of her. “Don’t tempt me to start, Delaney.” I force myself to pull back with a tilt of my head. “Because if I start, Iwillfinish.”
With a final bat of her lashes, her response sends me into orbit, and now I know I’m doomed.
“Prove it.”
TWENTY-ONE
D E L A N E Y
As if theywere never apart, our lips are back together as one.
I push my hands into Warren’s hair while he wraps me around his waist. Now we’re chaotically dancing around the changing room, attempting for more.
Desperate for more.
Before I know it, I’m pulling off Warren’s blazer, pushing it off his broad shoulders, grasping for his shirt next in an attempt to rid him of all his clothes.
God, I need to see him shirtless.
God, I need to see him naked.
I need to see him all over me.
“Take your clothes off,” I attempt to speak through the short breaks we take in between kisses. An action that hardly lasts a second before our mouths guide their way back to each other time and time again.
“Shh…” He whispers against my lips, his touch tender in comparison to mine as he sinks his fingertips into my waist. “Stop talking.”
I want to negate his request, but his soft yet raspy voice makes me believe that he could say anything to me right now, and I’d still refuse to break our lips apart. Regardless, themenacing part of my mind reminds me of logic as I mumble a quiet, “Why?”
We pull away with just enough time for me to peer up at him, seeing the tenseness of his face. The way his jaw is clenched, and his eyes have narrowed in on me. This isn’t the same Warren that walked into this locker room, and I like it.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs ahold of my waist, pulls me back in, and presses me against him. His lips hover millimeters away from mine, tempting me with his refusal to have them meet.
“I’m tired of that little mouth of yours, Delaney.” His voice is full of a haunting impatience.
I tilt my head in confusion, biting down on my bottom lip to suppress my pout. I can always tell by the way his eyes follow my movements that this simple action puts him in the palm of my hand without fail.
