Page 62 of Hard to Score

Should I be worried about the guys seeing us?

Yes.

Am I?

No.

I only have one thought on my mind, one person I care about.

Brexton, in that sexy-as-hell outfit that highlights her perfect ass and every curve connected to it.

Brexton, whose lips taste like wine and whose kisses are an addiction all on their own.

She stumbles behind me through the dark hallway as I look for anyplace, anywhere, that we can go.

“What? Drew? What are you—”

I turn and spin on her so that her back is against the wall and my lips close over hers to steal the words from them. There’s anger in our kiss this time. A need so violent that I can’t put words to it—can’t express it—and so kissing her is the only way I have.

“What is your problem?” she asks, hands fisted in my shirt when we come up for air. She has to feel the same way as I do right now.

I can’t be the only one.

“What’s the problem?” I growl. “The problem is you.”

“Me?” She laughs.

“Fucking hell. Yes, you.” My lips are on hers again. My hands itching to slide beneath her skirt again and touch her skin. “I can’t get enough of you and it’s goddamn maddening.”

She puts her mouth near my ear and whispers just above the throb of the music. “That makes two of us.”

I lean back and stare at her—eyes dark, lips curved up in a taunt—and love that she’s been suffering tonight as much as I have. And we’re on the move again. Down the hall with her hand in mine as I try handle after handle until I reach the employee locker room. The door gives and I pull her inside without a second thought. It’s small and stifling, dim and empty, but as long as the door is sturdy and the lock stays, that’s all that matters.

She yelps out a laugh as we slam back against it. Our lips branding each other’s again as her hands unbutton my pants and my hands pull up her skirt.

“He knew you were here and I didn’t,” I murmur before tugging on her bottom lip with my teeth.

She mewls out a moan as my fingers dive between her thighs to find her even more wet and ready than moments before and Christ, there’s no way I could get any harder. It’s already painful enough.

She frees my cock and I groan when she wraps her hand around it and squeezes. “I was trying to keep it professional.” She sucks my bottom lip, her breath labored, her nipples hard against my chest. “We’re both working. We were both—”

Her words stop as I heft her up so that her legs wrap around me, her back is braced against the wall, and my cock presses at her core.

Goddamn right. That’ll make her stop talking about Justin.

“How’s this for professional?” I ask as I lower her down and push my way into her.

My body electrifies at the feel of her tight, hot heat.

I’m staggered.

Speechless.

Fucking consumed.

Her drawn-out moan and exposed neck as she leans her head back, overcome with the sensations, are a goddamn seduction in and of themselves.

But I don’t need to be seduced. Not by Brex. No. She’s already done that. All I need to do is feel.