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She leans all the way forward on her palms, her chest just centimeters from pressing against mine. I feel her breath along my neck as her lips slowly move towards my ear. I'm ready for the sensation of those sweet lips on my skin, intoxicated by her proximity, loving the fact that she’s finally embracing the inevitable.
“One night with me would never be enough for you, Decker,” she breathes into my ear.
My brows raise at the statement, and I swallow hard.
She pulls back, a brow arching as a smirk that practically screamsTouché bitchslides across her face, and the energy in the room shifts from lust-filled desire, to a man drowning in his own arrogance.
“Now put the fucking electrodes on and let's finish up,” she demands, straightening to toss them onto my lap.
I’m frozen in place.
“Keep your focus on healing and not where you can stick your pricker next, and maybe you’ll hit that turf a little faster,” she says with a satisfied smile.
My world is shook.
I was so sure I was close to cracking her.
But apparently, I'm illiterate when it comes to reading rooms.
17
Dylan
Thewaythoseeyessear through to my gut, somehow sending a direct shock wave to the aching place between my legs, and the way his lips are parted, just waiting to accommodate my tongue—it's all pulling me under. Drowning me in this intoxicating desire to touch him again.
But I avoid it at all costs.
I have to.
He pauses directly in front of my face, our noses practically touching, his breath meeting mine between us. His eyes penetrate me with a calculated confidence I can only imagine he carries with him in other aspects of his life.
The field, on the turf, and the other field. The one where scoring really matters. The bedroom.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, my breaths short and clipped. My oxygen only comes from rooms not filled with Lake. I've decided rooms with Lake are like drowning.
Maybe that's the reason for the name. In his presence, there's an overwhelming feeling of suffocation from the increased pressure and lack of air.
His sharp, assaulting blue eyes part from mine as he studies every inch of me. My eyelashes, the tip of my nose, the slightest curl of my lips. I can feel it all, even with the lack of contact. It blankets me, creating this heaviness, touching every part of me I can't escape.
Body. Mind. Body. Mind.
Who's going to win this epic battle?
Well, it's beyond clear my body is finding any way it can to shut off my pesky mind. I keep trying to rehash all the reasons this isn't okay, repeating phrases again and again, only to have my body siphon its own thoughts in.
Lake is my patient.But no one needs to know. He said it himself.
Lake's a playboy, fucking his way through women.Commitment is nothing you need, anyway.
Sex with Lake would be so fucking fun. Lake can make your body feel things you've been needing to feel. Let go, already. Lake is easy. Sex and no strings attached. A perfect set-up.
Fucking body is winning.
Colin. My career. Money. Standards.
That does it. Mind wins.
Enough to at least give me a second of strength and have me pulling away from his embrace, tossing the electrodes into his lap.
