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Bex takes my hand, moving it from her hip to her stomach. She keeps going, inviting me to touch her. Her nipples are like daggers poking through her thin spandex top. I twist one of them between my fingers, and she squeals. And I’m dead. Because it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
Cupping her chin in my hand, I hold her in place, long enough to plant a trail of kisses along her jaw. She locks onto me, knowing this is it. There’s no turning back. Bex nods, as if granting me permission. I pull down her bottom lip with my thumb, and she sticks out her tongue. Her wet heat coats my finger, igniting a fire inside me.
I lick my lips. She does the same. And then my lips crash into hers. There’s so much intensity behind the kiss Bex stumbles backward. But I’m there to catch her, pinning her against my chest. With each flick of her tongue, Bex consumes me. She owns me. And I claim her in return.
Our slow exploration of each other’s mouth turns into a heated debate for which of us can have more power over the other. And why am I surprised? Bex isn’t like the girls I normally hook up with. She wants to be in control. She’s used to doing things her way. But she doesn’t realize I’m always in charge.
I take her lip between my teeth and suck on it, tugging at her delicate flesh. She slides her hand to the back of my head, commanding control once more. And I fight her. Because this back and forth between us is turning me on too much to stop. She’s so damn feisty. Not like I expected anything else from Bex.
I sweep my tongue into her mouth, and she lets go, melting into me. Her body relaxes against mine, as if she’s finally given in. We stay like this for what feels like hours, until our lips separate.
She’s panting, barely able to catch her breath.
“Wanna get out of here?” I ask her.
She nods. “As if you had to ask.”
Thirty minutes later, I pull up out front of the house I share with my teammates. The old Victorian has three floors, a covered porch, and a massive yard. For once, it’s not littered with beer bottles or cigarettes from people passing by on their way to Greek Row.
“Wait here,” I tell Bex, running my hand up her thigh. “I’ll come around and get you.”
She frowns. “I don’t need help getting out of the car, Parker.”
“You looked kind of dangerous in those heels on our way out of the club.”
She chuckles. “That’s because I’m not used to them.”
I remove my hand from her leg and open my car door. “Just let me help you, okay? The pavement is cracked in certain parts along this street. I don’t want you to get your heel stuck in one of them and break your leg.”
“Aww.” She holds her hand over her heart and smiles. “That’s sweet, even for you.”
I shrug. “I have my moments.”
After I switch off the ignition and push open the door, I make my way around to the other side of the car. I hold out my hand for Bex, and she takes it, allowing me to help her up from the bucket seat. She cups my shoulders, using them to stabilize herself.
“I think I’m good,” she says, her lips inches from mine.
Fuck, I’m not.
Our eyes meet and electricity skates along my skin. Ignoring her comment, I slip my fingers between hers and lead her toward the house. I wasn’t kidding about cracks in the pavement. A girl fell out front last year after one of our parties and broke her tibia.
She staggers, even with me holding onto her. We only had a few beers. Bex isn’t drunk. For a girl who’s so light on her feet on the court, she sure as hell seems out of her element in heels.
Worried she’ll twist her ankle, I lift Bex up and sling her over my shoulder, as if she weighs nothing.
“Hey.” She hits me playfully on my back. “Put me down, Parker. I can walk on my own.”
“I’m sure you can. But I’m not taking any chances with you. How would I explain this to your dad if something happened to you while you were at my house?”
She groans. “Okay, fine. If it makes you feel better.”
“It does.”
I jog up the front steps of the old Victorian and then set her on the ground to retrieve my keys from my pocket. Once inside, I survey the situation. None of my teammates are in the living room. Or the dining room. Weird.
The kitchen is empty. Then I remember they went to a party at one of the fraternity houses.
I reach into the refrigerator to grab two bottles of water and a carton of strawberries. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I move toward the island in the center of the kitchen. Bex waits for me, with a devious look in her eyes.
