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I make a desperate grab for the ball.
He chuckles as he spins around me, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me away while he shoots one-handed.
It goes in. He hasn’t missed a single shot yet.
And I’m running out of swear words.
Holden’s hand is still wrapped around me, spread across my stomach and searing my skin.
I step back into him. Grind my ass against his crotch.
“This is cheating,” he says. “Illegal interference.”
His breathing is fast beside my ear and I take a lot of pleasure out of that. Either I challenged him to exerting himself some or he’s affected by my proximity.
“Cassia.” There’s a warning in his voice as I continue to circle my hips.
I eye the basketball where it landed beneath the hoop, then lean back so he’s supporting all of my weight.
Fuck it.
“We’ll call it a tie.”
His hand slides down to my hip, thumb tracing the line of my shorts. I still, absorbing the thrill of his touch. “Sure. It’s not like I was ahead or anything.”
“Don’t be a sore winner.”
“I thought we tied?”
I start moving my hips again, a soft gasp leaving my mouth when I’m rewarded by his reaction.
“Cassia.” His other hand lands on my hip, caging me in place. “Are you okay?”
“Move your hands lower, and I’ll be amazing.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
His chin brushes the top of my head as he looks around the empty court. “What do you want me to do? Fuck you on the ground?”
“I have my car.”
There’s a pause before he replies. “Car sex, huh? I don’t know if I should be flattered or concerned that you’re so desperate for my dick.”
“You get drunk and fight people when you’re upset about something. I want you to fuck me.”
“I don’t do that anymore.”
“Please, Holden.”
I don’t want to talk about my parents. I can’t talk about Sydney. Instead of thinking or worrying or feeling sad, I want an escape. And nothing—no one—has ever distracted me the way Holden Adams does.
“Okay.” He releases all of me except for my hand and leads me over to the bleachers, snagging our two shirts and my phone and keys before we continue to my car.
He tosses everything he’s holding into the front seat and then opens the door behind it and nods to the backseat. “Get in.”
I crawl in, expecting him to follow. But he only leans in, his hand landing on my thigh and pulling me back toward him. I reach for his shorts and he shakes his head. “This is about you.”
