Page 32 of Crossland


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He pulled back, eyes wide as they locked with mine.

Our chests heaved, and I couldn’t help but look from his eyes to his mouth again, wanting—no,needing—more.

“Just a kiss,” he said, repeating my earlier words. “No big deal, right?”

What an absolute prick, I thought but couldn’t stop the excited smile from shaping my lips.

A gorgeous, funny, and charmingprick.

Fine. Two could play that game.

“Right,” I said, boldly shifting my hips, rolling them ever so slightly, delight sparking beneath my skin at what I felt with his body flush against mine. I glanced down at the lack of space between us before flickering my eyes back up to his. “Definitely no big deal.”

His lips parted, mischief and challenge flashing in his eyes.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice raw and deliciously deep when I wiggled against him again. “You’re playing with fire. The last thing I want is you getting burned.”

I laughed softly, my head spinning with the game we were playing. I reached up on my tiptoes, bringing my lips to the shell of his ear.

“Maybe that’s what I live for,” I whispered, nipping slightly at his earlobe before freeing myself from the cage he’d trapped me in.

I walked away without looking back, totally needing air before I did something tragically stupid…

Like drop to my knees in order to bring Crossland to his.

CHAPTER 7

Aspen

Bristol sat across from me in one of the buttery soft chairs near the window of Crossland’s private jet. It was amazing how much they looked alike, except for their eyes. Hers were more hazel where Crossland’s were that stunning Arctic blue that I had a hard time looking away from sometimes.

She looked surprisingly calm and relaxed, given that she’d just finished an epic fashion show, and was now hitching a ride back to New York with us since, according to Crossland, she had a few business meetings to attend at the offices she kept in the city.

Jesse had taken a seat across the aisle from me and was already peacefully snoozing. His ability to be snoring before the wheels were even up was one of the things I envied about my best friend. I tried to keep my focus out the window or casually scrolling on my phone, but I could feel Bristol’s penetrating stare.

“Did you ask to come to my show?” she asked casually, an intrigued look shaping her features.

“No,” I answered before thinking about how that sounded. I sat up straighter in my chair. “Not that I didn't want to come,” I hurried to add. My eyes flashed to Jesse, wishing he wasawake to help me. He was always so much better at socializing than I was. “Your show absolutely blew me away,” I continued. “He's a designer too,” I said, nodding to my sleeping friend. “So, I've been around fashion a little, but not on that scale. You're incredibly talented. I love how your designs looked edgy yet approachable.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling softly at me. “But you didn't ask to come because you wanted your friend to meet me?”

I furrowed my brow, wondering about the question. There was no malice in her tone, no judgment in her eyes, but I couldn't help but feel as if she was searching for a specific answer.

“No,” I answered honestly.

Bristol's lips parted slightly, and she glanced behind her where Crossland had sat separately from us, insisting he had work to catch up on.

I couldn't help but follow her line of sight, my heart picking up speed as I saw his dress shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows as he typed away furiously on his laptop. There was a slight crinkle between his brows as he concentrated, a tense set in his jaw that made him look fierce in a way I hadn't seen before.

He was usually all confidence and jokes, but I could tell when it came to his business that he didn't fuck around. And I guess that was obvious, given the deal he’d struck with me just to win a bet.

Another flutter of heat raced through me as I thought about the kiss that I could still feel on my lips. It had been mere hours ago, and yet it was like I could still feel his hands on me.

Which was ridiculous because it had just been a playful, simple kiss.

A not-a-big-deal kiss, according to us both.

Yeah. Right.

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