He hovers at the edge of the bed, his muscles flexed, hands clenched, eyes fixed on the place where my fingers vanish between my thighs. "You're a fucking brat," he says, a little broken and a lot wild.
That only makes me want to push further.
I circle my clit, watching him watch me, letting my head fall back on the pillow. "You're going to be late, quarterback."
He makes a sound between a growl and a plea. "You're going to pay for this later, you little minx."
A breathless laugh escapes my lips. I press down, teasing myself, and the shiver that runs through him is almost as good as the one running through me. "I thought you had self-control," I tease.
He stalks closer, every muscle in his body rigid. "I don't," he says, his voice a wild growl as he looms over me. "Not with you. Now, finish it before I decide to be late to practice on purpose."
I pretend to think about it for a moment before slipping my hand free. "No, thanks," I murmur. "I think I'll just wait until youlea—"
That's as far as I get before he's on me, pinning me beneath him.
My shriek of laughter fades to a moan as he pushes his way inside, biting down on the side of my throat at the same time.
"You have practice," I gasp, my legs already around his waist.
"Fuck practice," he snarls, slamming into me so hard he steals my breath.
By the time he finishes with me, I can't feel my legs, and he's definitely late.
I'm not complaining.
He isn't, either.
Chapter Seven
Serena
"Hold the phone," Peyton says, shock coloring her voice. "You slept with him?"
"Um…" I cast a furtive glance around, praying my boss isn't listening in. The last thing I need is for Jack to hear that I'm fucking Austin Hawkes. He's already giving me the stink eye because of the new photos plastered all over the internet. They aren't even that bad, but you'd think Austin and I were fucking against the side of the truck, judging by the way Jack has been scowling at me all day. "Maybe?"
"Holy shit," Peyton breathes into the phone. "Serena Marise Abrams, you bad girl."
"Shh!" I hiss, my gaze flickering to the patients on the other side of the glass partition. They aren't paying any attention to me, though. They're all scrolling on theirphones, waiting for Jack to emerge from his office to see them.
Peyton cackles. Actually cackles. "It's not like Logan gives a shit if you're fucking Austin. Logan!"
If the floor doesn't swallow me right now, I'm killing my best friend.
"What's up, baby?" he asks in the background, his deep voice muted.
"Do you care that Serena is fucking Austin Hawkes?"
"I thought she hated him," he rumbles.
"That was last week. Keep up."
"Her business is her business," he says, and then pauses. "Do I need to have a conversation with him? I don't mind threatening him again."
"Again?" Peyton growls. "What do you meanagain?"
I hide a smile behind my hand, like she can really see it through the phone.
"Shit. I mean, I don't mind threatening him for the first time ever," Logan amends. He's a terrible liar.
