Todd’s lips brush mine, and he grinds down on me again as he murmurs, “It’s dark. They won’t see much.”
That pulls a grin from me—God,this guy—and I kiss him again through the smile, deep and slow and full of promise.
Then I pull back just enough to whisper, “Get back in your seat. Seatbelt. Now.”
Because if I don’t get us home soon, Iwillend up climbing into the backseat with him and fucking him in this parking lot.
SIXTEEN
TODD
By the timewe pull into his apartment building, I’m wrecked. Not from the club or the game.
From him.
From the way Logan keeps reaching over to touch me. A thumb along my thigh. Fingers tracing circles on the back of my neck. Every red light was another stolen kiss, another second where he leaned over the console like he couldn’t not touch me.
And I’m gone for him.
I’m so far gone I don’t even hesitate when he parks and throws it in park. I unclip my seatbelt and reach for him at the same time he does me, mouths crashing together again in a kiss that’s messy and impatient and full of promise.
It takes everything in me to break away, breathless, and push open my door. We tumble out of the Jeep like we’ve got a countdown ticking in our heads.
The lobby is empty.
The elevator dings open like it wants to help us make bad decisions.
We step inside. The doors close.
And then—he’s on me.
He slams me gently but firmly against the elevator wall and kisses me like he’s starving. Like I’m oxygen, and he hasn’t had a clean breath in days. My hands fist in his hoodie, my legs barely keeping me upright becausefuck,this kiss.
It’s not like before.
This one sinks into my bones.
His tongue strokes deep and slow, taking his time, memorizing me from the inside out. His hand grips my waist, grounding me, holding me steady as his mouth steals every logical thought I had left.
And I can’t think.
Can’t breathe.
Can’tstop.
I’m light-headed. Heart pounding. There’s this stupid swoop in my stomach—like the elevator’s dropping, but it’sme,not the ground moving. As if I’m weightless under the heat of his touch.
My chest brushes his with every shallow breath. Our hips grind just enough to make me want more, and I’m clinging to him now, openly needy in a way I’ve never let myself be.
Not with anyone.
And I don’t care.
Because this—this—is what I want.
What I’ve wanted since that first message. That first night. Hell before that…when he stepped foot into my locker room and onto my team after not seeing him for years.
He kisses me until I’m dizzy with it, until my lips are swollen and wet and the elevator dings again.
