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He drags me down a short hallway outside the locker room, not speaking, and then into a cramped equipment room. There are racks of sticks and rolls of tape, extra skate blades, and gloves everywhere.
"Fuck, I missed you," Kellan growls, pulling me into his arms before I'm able to see much else. Not that I care. He's far more interesting than the same equipment I've seen a thousand times.
"I missed you too."
He tilts my face up to his, kissing me. I laugh against his lips. He was a little scruffy before, but the scruff has blossomed into a full-on beard. He looks sexy as sin with it.
"What's so funny?"
"You grew a whole beard since I saw you. It tickles."
"Oh, yeah?" He rubs his face on me, grinning.
I duck under his arm, laughing. Before I get too far, he's got me pinned against a rack with his hand under my shirt and his lips against my ear.
"You'll love the way it feels when I'm eating you tonight, Rebel," he growls, sending a shiver of delight through me. "I may not even wash your smell away when I'm done. I'll just wear you until you let me eat you again."
"Kellan," I groan.
His palm glides along my belly before he slips it between my legs. "Have you been touching my pussy, little one?"
"Yes," I say, just to see what he does. The truth is, I tried to touch myself the first night after we hung up, but it wasn't the same. Apparently, my body only responds to him now. It belongs to him, just like he said.
He nips my throat, growling. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch what belongs to me, Parker."
"I don't remember you telling me not to do it."
He grinds his palm against my center. "You're fucking lucky I have a game, or I'd have you on your knees apologizing with my dick down your throat right now, little one." His beard scrapes against the sensitive skin of my throat, followed by his teeth. "Maybe I'll make you apologize after we win."
Yes, God, yes. He's had his mouth on me at every available opportunity, but he hasn't let me get mine on him yet. I want to know what it's like to have this man in my mouth, driving him crazy like he does me. I want to know what it's like to make him tremble and shake.
"Kellan, please," I whisper, not above begging for him to give me what I want.
"Jesus. You want it, don't you?"
"Yes," I gasp, melting against his chest as he wreaks havoc on my senses. "I want everything you do to me."
"Then stay the night with me tonight."
As if he even has to ask. I already told Jonas I was staying with Haven tonight so he and Jamie could have some time alone. I was kind of hoping Kellan wouldn't tell me no when I showed up at his door later, asking to sleep over. I'm shameless and not even a little sorry about it. But I can't resist teasing him a little.
"I'll think about it."
He growls, nipping at my throat again. "You're itching for me to spank that perfect ass tonight, aren't you? You're spending the night with me, Rebel. Don't make me show up at your brother's house and carry you out of there. You know I will."
"Fine," I huff, even though I'm not the least bit irritated. How can I be when he's fighting so hard to get me in his bed? When he's desperate for more time with me? He makes me feel like I'm the only woman in the world. It's a heady, intoxicating feeling. "But only because I already planned on it anyway."
"You little minx." He spins me around in his arms, covering my mouth with his. I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him as he kisses me breathless. He's so good at it. I could kiss him forever and still want more.
"Hold on, baby doll. I need to find another seventy flex. I don't like the weight of this one."
"Shit," Kellan growls, ripping his mouth from mine as the equipment room door opens. He quickly puts distance between us, leaving me grasping for the shelf behind me to keep myself upright.
Theo Kline steps into the equipment room with his wife, Charlotte, on his heels. His eyes land on me and then shift to Kellan. He comes to a dead stop, causing Charlotte to run right into him. She knocks him forward a step, sending a rack of sticks toppling.
"Fuck my life," Theo growls, not even trying to catch the sticks as they clatter to the floor.
"Sorry," Charlotte whispers.
I don't think he's talking about the sticks, though. He's talking about me and Kellan.
"You're fucking Jonas's little sister," he says, confirming my suspicion. He knows.
My heart sinks.
