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And this time, I don’t have any excuses.
No more, right place at the right time.
There’s no denying the anguish written plainly across his face, the distress in his voice.
The longer I stare at him, the harder it is to breathe.
The heavier the air.
The more tension that surrounds me.
Foster’s muscles are straining under his shirt, like he could combust any minute now, but he doesn’t move either, doesn’t utter another word.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and wet my lips.
First the top one, then the bottom.
His eyes track the movement. Every passing second, they become harder. Hungrier. More feral.
Time ticks by.
My fingers twitch.
And then we lunge for each other, clashing in the middle of the couch; a tangle of limbs, a clash of teeth. We’re both burning, reducing each other to ash, yet at the same time we’re drowning.
It’s too much. It’s not enough.
It’s a promise that tomorrow will be better. Only I’m not sure if that’s one he’ll be able to keep.
And I’m not sure I fucking care.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kissing Avery when we’re both so raw and exposed isn’t a great idea, but I’ve never been known for my great decisions.
And fuck, now that I’ve started—now that I feel the soft press of her lips on mine—there’s no bloody way I can stop.
Fuck. I don’twantto stop.
I can hear the warning bells, the alarm telling me I’m crossing all sorts of lines with my teammate’s little sister, but I silence them all. I’m fucking starved for this woman. She’s out of my league and makes me out of my mind. I’ve never wanted a woman more than I want Avery right now.
Because she’s real.
I need to get closer, feel more of her, so I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, and as soon as she gives me entrance, I glide mine along hers, and fuck her mouth like my life depends on it. Avery meets me stroke for stroke. She kisses me with everything she has, everything she is.
Her hands are everywhere—clutching my shoulders, gripping my neck, pulling the shit out of my hair—and I can’t get enough.
I need more. I needher.
She’s burning me from the inside out. Hell, she’s turning me inside out with such a savage intensity, it only heightens my need. My dick throbs against the zipper of my dress pants, and if I’m not careful, I might embarrass myself in a matter of seconds.
“Foster.”
My name is a whisper as she lifts up and shifts so she’s straddling my lap and plunges her tongue back into my eager mouth. My hands clamp around her waist, and I rub her core along the length of my erection.Once. Twice. And then again because I can’t fucking help myself.
She feels too good.
I can only imagine what it would feel like to bury myself inside her for the first time. Inch by inch, bar by bar of my Jacob’s Ladder. I groan just thinking of watching my piercings disappear inside of her, rubbing against her walls.
