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Rest I don’t need because I’ve already napped today.
And let’s be real, the chances of me catching a single wink when I’m thinking about Natalie out with all those assholes scheming to get into her pants? Next to none. Not good on a night before a game. Not fair to the rest of the team. So maybe I’ll wait for her to come home. Make sure she gets in okay and she isn’t upset about what happened last night. And then I’ll go.
Christ, I don’t want her to be upset about last night.
An engine revs in the distance, and I take a last look over my shoulder. A few friends are huddled together at the end of the block and a guy on a bike is talking into his earbud mic as he pedals by, but no one seems interested in the bigger-than-average guy standing on Natalie Baxter’s stoop.
Not yet anyway.
I knock and suck a long breath through my nose, telling myself to chill the fuck out. I’m going to see her. Eventually. And until then—
The door swings open and…I’m so screwed.
“Vaughn,” Allie whispers on a shaky breath, the deep blue of her eyes pulling me in. “What are you doing here?”
Yeah, whatamI doing here?
Because it sure as hell isn’t making sure she’s okay after last night.
Not the way I’m cataloging every fucking detail about her. The exaggerated rise and fall of her chest beneath a white tank top, the Wisconsin sleep pants hanging just below those sexy hip bones I want to scrape my teeth over. Her pretty little naked toes and soft bare lips.
I take a step forward, put my hand on the doorframe to stop myself. “I’m a total fuckwad.”
A surprised laugh huffs past her lips. “Why’s that?”
Jesus, she’s pretty. “I can’t even remember what bullshit excuse I had for coming over here.”
“But it was bullshit?” She doesn’t seem too upset that I’m here. In a twisted way it would be easier if she did.
“Didn’t feel like it at the time. But yeah.”
The corners of her mouth tip up the barest degree as she leans into the open door. That hint of a smile changes her whole face, giving her a sexy, playful edge that has me planting my other arm on the frame and gripping it so hard my knuckles turn white.
“Allie.” Her name comes low and rough, and pushing out the next words is like forcing gravel and glass past my throat. “Tell me to get out of here and I’ll go.”
My gut knots as I wait for her to do it. Say it. Tell me to get off her stoop and leave her alone.
She swallows, looking away. “And if I don’t?”
It takes a beat before that quietly posed question processes. One painful pump of the organ in my chest while I brace for an impact worse than two hundred pounds of defense coming at me with everything he’s got. But when her words register, the ones I’m not expecting, my head snaps up, and every muscle I’ve had on lockdown since the second she opened the door busts free.
I bury one hand in the soft curls behind her neck as we come together in a hard, clashing kiss that’s all deep, sliding tongues, grasping hands, and shuffling feet as we move inside.
“I tried to stay away,” I say against her mouth, my breath ragged and strained.
We can’t get close enough.
“I tried to want you to.” Her fingers knot in my hair, tugging just right. “But it’s no use. I was calling you when you knocked.”
I pull back to search her eyes. “Yeah?”
“Sorry.” She really looks it too.
“Not sorry,” I growl. And then we’re kissing again, harder, hotter.
I push her tank up and thumb the tight bead of her nipple with one hand while sliding the other over her perfect ass to pull her closer. Her hips tip into the contact and she whimpers.
That sound.
