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“Good talk, Hamilton,” Maverick’s voice echoes after us.
“Was it really necessary to drag me away like that?” she asks indignantly. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but I was in the middle of a conversation.”
“Yes, it was,” I say voice strung tight. “And I don’t give a fuck about your convo. We have several things to discuss.”
“Oh?”
As if she doesn’t know.
Ha!
We turn another corner before I grind to a halt and swing her around to face me.
She lifts her chin. The way her eyes glitter tells me that she knows exactly what’s about to go down.
Her.
I release her long enough to grip the hem of the jersey she’s wearing and drag it up her body before tugging it over her head. The purse and jacket she’s holding gets dropped to the floor in the process. There’s a pale pink cami beneath that hugs every slender curve. It’s tempting to rip that off as well.
“What do you think you’re doing?” More indignation wafts off her.
I drop Mav’s sweater on top of her jacket.
“If you’re going to wear someone’s jersey, it’ll be mine. You can add that to our growing list of rules.”
Her chin rises another notch. “Is that so?”
“Damn right it is.”
I step closer, backing her up against the concrete wall before nipping at her top lip and then the lower one. There’s a faint vanilla taste from the balm she slicked on. It only stokes the flames of my desire and makes me want her more.
Although, it’s doubtful anything could make me want this girl less.
Even seeing her in another guy’s jersey.
Her breathing turns labored.
And I fucking love it.
Love that I’m able to affect her when she tries so damn hard not to give me a reaction.
“I believe you owe me a blowjob, pretty girl.”
“Here?” Her face turns slack as her eyes widen. “Now?”
That wasn’t the original plan but…
Why the hell not?
I glance up and down the hallway to reconfirm that it’s empty. There’s the faint hum of laughter and conversation that drifts from the lobby.
“Yup.” I cock my head. “What’s the matter? Afraid of getting caught with your mouth stuffed full of dick?”
Some chicks would slap me for saying something so vulgar. Carina isn’t one of them. Instead, her pupils dilate in response, the black swallowing up the blue-gray color.
When she remains silent, looking uncertain, I drop my voice. “I dare you.”
She squeezes her eyes tightly closed and gulps. The delicate column of her throat works, heightening my own excitement. It’s like waving a red cape in front of a bull. When her lashes flutter open again, lust swirls through the glittery depths. It’s so fucking intoxicating.
