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Shocked and more than a little turned on, I stare up at him. “Should I not have worn it?”
“No, Sweetheart. I fucking love seeing my name on you. But I need to know why. I need to know what it means.”
“You told me I had to let you know when I was ready for more, Brady. This is me telling you, I’m ready for everything.”
He’s on me instantly.
This isn’t a sweet kiss.
This is claiming.
His hands are on my ass, and his tongue is in my mouth.
My legs are still wrapped around him, and I can feel him hardening against me. He pulls his mouth away and licks a trail down my neck before nipping at my pulse point.
“Oh, God.”
The next thing I hear is my brother banging on the front of the SUV. “Do not fucking make out with my sister in the parking lot, man.”
Brady leans his forehead against mine.
I laugh. “He’s such a baby.”
“Yeah, but he’s not wrong. What I want to do to you right now is not for anyone else’s eyes.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing that my bedroom door has a lock, isn’t it, QB?”
28
Natalie
Everyone has piled into cars and is heading to our house. I’m riding with Brady, who looks utterly relaxed and hasn’t stopped smiling yet. “That was such a great game tonight, QB.” Surprisingly, that’s all it takes to wipe away his smile.
“We only won by one touch down.”
“You threw for 300 yards. Cooper caught 2 TD’s, and you ran in another one yourself. I’d call that a pretty good game.”
“It was way too close.”
“Learn to take a compliment. You won.”
“I wish it was that simple.”
“It can be for tonight. Celebrate the win. Let the rest come tomorrow.”
We drive down the street toward my house. There are already cars filling the driveway, and the road is lined. Parking just past the house, we start to walk in.
Landon Gage is carrying a keg on his shoulder like it weighs nothing. How does he even get a keg? None of us is twenty-one yet.
“Oh, my God. Landon. Isn’t that heavy?”
“Don’t you go worrying about it, Little Sinclair. These arms are plenty strong. They can carry kegs and won’t let anything happen to your boyfriend.” Landon laughs and walks away.
Meanwhile, I am stuck in my spot, pouting.
Brady tugs me, but I don’t move. “What’s wrong, Nat?”
“Little Sinclair? It’s going to stick, isn’t it?”
