“The recommendation letters?” Jack asked.
Right. He’d said he’d do that for us.
Trent nodded. “I’ll be working on them. You boys get through the Leadership Camp, and we’ll see what’s what.”
Jack stood suddenly. “Cool. I’m out.”
I watched him go, the door closing completely behind him before I got to my feet.
“All right,” I said, not knowing what else to add. I wouldn’t tell Trent “thanks” or “good times” because it really hadn’t been.
The halls were mostly deserted as I left Trent’s office and headed to my truck.
Counseling sessions were over. The pranks had ended. From what he’d said this morning, I’d probably only been a distractionfor Jack as Sasha had once been for me. Did this mean he’d stop messing with me? Would we stop texting too?
Fuck.
Not ready to face my preferred answer to either of those—and the high potential for a disappointing answer—I lugged a bag of old football equipment out of my truck and headed to the locker room to return the gear I’d never need again.
All was quiet. The stink of sweat and body odor lingered under the gallons of lemon-scented cleaners they’d used to kill the stench. That constant smell heralding sports never bothered me and had grown into a comfort at some point. I threw footballs into the bin with all the others and a practice jersey I’d taken home for some reason into the laundry sack, then stopped by my locker.
The tape at eye level was slightly curled at the end, so I picked at it until I could peel it off. C. Winters was scrawled across it in thick marker, but this metal box was no longer mine. I was sure someone else would come through here and take off the names in preparation for next year, but I didn’t want to wait for that. This chapter was closed.
The mental symbolism was a head rush. All the answers weren’t crystal clear yet, but for the first time in a long while, I felt more like me, like I knew whomemight be.
Electric shocks crackled, some sixth sense needling my nerve endings with awareness of someone behind me. Not just someone—Jack. As silent as death and just as inevitable. Chillingly definitive, a ghost over my skin, I shuddered, and breath left me in a cold huff.
A large hand clamped onto my shoulder and spun me. Jack bodily shoved me against my old locker with a loud bang that echoed in the empty space, and then his mouth crashed into mine. We both let out a hungry hum as we opened to each other. Instinct. We knew what we wanted.
No words this time. No teasing or barbs to get at each other.
Jack rubbed his hips forward. I grabbed them and locked them to my own.
Our teeth hit, and our tongues wrestled. His soft lips contrasted with the prickle of stubble on his jaw. Amazing and consuming. Every second kept me off-balance and dizzy, but only in the most spectacular of ways.
I expanded my chest, in need of air I wasn’t getting, and rubbed his to the sound of a delicious moan. He had a hand at my nape, and the other still on my shoulder. I slipped mine toward his lower back, right at the top of his jeans. God, I wanted his ass in my hands. Kissing was fan-fucking-tastic; touching him everywhere, tasting every inch of him, had to be even better, right?
The very second I inched my fingers lower, Jack grabbed my wrists and slammed them against the lockers. He didn’t stop kissing me, but the aggression was messing with my head. I wasn’t some weak-ass, but he made me hesitate.
Jack groaned, shoved a rock-hard thigh between mine, and ground against me. His kiss fell from my mouth to trail down to my jaw, where he nipped, then lower to my neck, where he bit decidedly harder. With my hands restrained, I couldn’t get to him, and he wasn’t letting up on his hold. I was at his mercy. Honestly, it had been a halfhearted attempt, anyway.
Jack pushed one slow roll of his hips against mine and backed off.
“No,” I snapped when he moved even farther. He couldn’t leave. Not again.
He raised one brow, asking without words what I planned to do about it. The pressure on my wrists eased, and I went on the attack. Another bang reverberated in the room as I twisted us and pinned him against the lockers. God, I hoped no one was around.
I bit at every surface I could, his lips, jaw, ear, even his cheek. It was a sexual fight I didn’t quite understand but wanted. To soothe the sting, I licked over every mark I made.
He did the same.
Our hands and arms were in constant agitation as we grappled, him giving me the same lazy attempts I had earlier. When I managed to capture one piece of him or another, it was only to stroke and tease, not restrain.
By his bared teeth and hissing, it got to him.
In a moment of my distraction as he raked over the skin on my ribs with blunt nails, he pushed me off and turned us. I was pinned again. Jack shaped my ass with his hands, squeezed, and moved his mouth to my neck, then sucked over my frenzied pulse. It had to be beating against his lips as frantically as it pounded in my ears. I curled my fingers around the belt loops at the front of his pants, holding on, bracing myself from his sensory onslaught, and shivered as I grazed his taut lower abs.
He hummed against my skin. Emboldened by his response to my touch, I shoved my hand inside his jeans. Neither of us were small guys, and with them still buttoned, I had little room to maneuver and only managed to flatten my hand over the silkiest, hardest cock. Heat flared up my arm and blasted into my lungs, making me gasp.
