“I’ve wanted to get you naked since the second I saw you at that coffee shop.”
“Really?” Lucy hesitates. “I was wearing yoga clothes.”
“I know.” I nod. “So hot.”
She laughs. “You have terrible taste.”
“Not even a little,” I counter, kissing the corner of her mouth. “You looked like trouble. The kind of trouble I knew I wanted to be in.”
Lucy shakes her head, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” I tease, trailing kisses down her neck, savoring the way her body arches into me.
“I’m considering it,” she whispers. Her nails trace lazy patterns down my spine, leaving a trail of heat behind them.
I’m considering it... What does that mean?
This isn’t a fling, but it’s certainly not a forever thing.
Is it?
Lucy’s breath brushes against my neck, pulling me back into the moment. Every soft touch from her feels like a brand, a reminder of how badly I want this, even if I don’t know whatthisis supposed to be.
Maybe it’s complicated. Or maybe it’s simple right now—two people who can’t seem to stay away from each other.
Her lips graze my collarbone, and I shiver, my hands tightening on her hips instinctively. I tilt her chin up so I can meet her gaze, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. It’s like we’re both holding our breath, waiting to see who will speak first, who will say something that pushes this moment past the point of no return.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers, her voice soft but searching.
I could lie. I could say something smooth and simple that keeps the mood light, keeps us exactly where we are. But the way she’s looking at me—like she’s trying to read my mind—makes me hesitate.
“Honestly?” I exhale, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m thinking about what you meant when you said you’re considering it.”
Her brow furrows slightly, like she wasn’t expecting me to ask. “Ah.”
“Yeah.” I offer a small smile, hoping I’m not ruining the moment. “Are you considering liking me, or are you considering where this is going?”
Lucy bites her lip, and for a second, I think I’ve overstepped. But then she sighs, her fingers stilling against my back. “Maybe both.”
My heart does a weird, hopeful lurch. “Okay,” I say carefully. “What do you want to do about that?”
She hesitates, her gaze flicking between my eyes like she’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking. “I don’t know.”
At least she’s being honest.
And. At least I know she likes me for me—not because I make a shit ton of money and play football on national television.
I press a kiss to her lips, taking a moment to think. “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
Her body relaxes. I take that as a good sign.
“You’re right,” she murmurs. “We don’t.”
I don’t hesitate. I close the space between us again, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s deeper, more deliberate than before.
I groan, the sound low and rough. When I reach the hollow below her collarbone, her body shivers beneath me, and I smile against her skin, proud that I know exactly how to get this reaction out of her.
Her hands are everywhere—my chest, my shoulders, my hair—like she’s trying to feel as much of me as possible.
