I clenched my jaw, glaring at the gray upholstery in front of me. “No.”
“No, what?”
I turned my head to look at him. He was waiting, hazel eyes locked on mine, challenging me. I thought about the parking lot. I thought about the bluff.
“I know I’ve been dodging you,” I said, keeping my words clipped and my voice dead flat. “I’m done. You wanted me here. Now I’m here.”
Karter drew in a quick breath. He didn’t look away, and he sure as hell didn’t back down. Instead, he just let his shoulderdrop, settling a fraction of an inch closer so our arms were almost touching.
The bus lurched into gear, pulling out of the lot and hitting the highway. I faced forward again. The constant rumble of the diesel engine vibrated right through the floorboards into my boots. Karter hadn’t flinched. He wasn’t running.
Shit.
We didn’t even make it to the highway on-ramp before Karter tried to push his luck.
“So, what does‘now I’m here’actually mean?” he asked, his voice low, clearly testing the boundary.
“It means shut up,” I hissed, keeping my head still. I cut my eyes sideways, clocking the rows around us. “You want to talk with twenty guys awake? With your brother three rows up?”
Karter worried his lower lip with his teeth, his gaze dropping to his lap.
“No,” I said, answering for him. “You get me sitting here. That’s all I’ve got to give you right now. Take it or leave it.”
Karter didn’t say a word. He just nodded once, shifting his arm further onto the shared armrest, deliberately placing his forearm flush against mine.
He was taking it.
An hour passed. The bus heater blasted dry, stale air against my shins, slowly knocking the team out. When I scanned the rows, I noticed that Elliot and most of the team were dead to the world, his head resting against the glass. At the very front of the aisle, the small yellow circle of Coach Corby’s book light was the only thing cutting through the lowlight.
Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Karter in the quiet bus was tearing away the last of my already-shot defenses.
Every time the bus hit a bump, his thigh brushed mine, and every time it did, a fresh spike of irritation hit my chest. I hated how hyperaware of him I was. I hated that this pampered Johnston was making me drop my guard.
But mostly, I was angry that he smelled so damn good.
I wanted to wipe that stubborn, quiet defiance right out of him. A part of me wanted to slam him up against the window and remind him of his place at the bottom of the team food chain.
But my brain was locked on a different kind of punishment. If he wanted me so badly, I decided I’d show him what the reality of that looked like. Right here, where he hadeverythingto lose.
I shrugged off my oversized winter coat and casually spread the thick material over my own lap at first. A few minutes later, I dragged the edge of my coat over Karter’s knees.
Karter looked down at the bulky fabric. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice dropping.
“Taking my coat off. It’s hot,” I said flatly.
“Aleks...”
“Stay quiet,” I warned him.
My gaze stayed locked dead ahead on the gray seat back. Under the cover of the jacket, I slid my hand over the denim of his jeans, finding the lean muscle of his thigh. But I didn’t ease into it. I clamped my hand down hard, my thick fingers pressing into the muscle of his leg.
Karter flinched, his breath catching sharply next to my ear. He opened his mouth to protest, but I eased my grip, dragging my hand higher until I brushed the ridge of his cock through his jeans.
The protest died in his throat. His muscles jumped under my palm.
“Right here?” he choked out.
“Yes,” I muttered, leaning my head back against the seat. I kept my hand locked down tight, trapping him. “You told me you wanted this. You pushed for it. Now we’re going to see if you can actually handle it.”
