“Because you work for the team. Becauseyou’re half my age. Because I’m supposed to be helping you fix a mistake, not—” He stops, and I can feel the frustration vibrating through his body.
“Not what?” I press.
“Not fucking kissing you like I’m so damn eager to add another mistake on top of it all.”
“Well, if you’re so sure it would be a mistake,” I manage to say, mostly lightly, although my voice does crack. I pat his chest.
“Molly, I’m fifty years old. I should know better than to—” He cuts himself off again.
Except I don’t want him to know better. I want more of those kisses. He said he liked it when I licked my lips, so I do that again.
“Don’t.” His voice is rough.
“Come on, Coach.”
He laughs and it sounds tortured. “And don’t say my name like that when I’m trying to be good here.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “Who said I want you to be good?”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” His gaze falls to my mouth and holds there. “That first day, when you walked in? I wasn’t prepared for you.” His voice drops lower. “The way you looked at everyone in that room like we were the ones who should be nervous, not you. The way you winked at me when I was being an asshole. The way you laughed when I tried to intimidate you. I think it’s important you know all ofthat before I tell you what I thought about your mouth, specifically. Because you impressed the hell out of me, Molly. But at the same time, I was thinking about your lip gloss. It was the color of raspberries, and I immediately had thoughts about you that would get me fired if I said them out loud.”
Heat pools low in my stomach. “I’m not going to get you fired.”
“No?” There’s something dangerous in his voice now. “What if I told you that I wanted you on your knees? That I’ve thought about your mouth every day since?”
“Are you trying to scare me off? Because that’s hot.”
“Molly.” It’s a warning.
I tighten my fingers on his shirt, emboldened by the confession, by the darkness, by the way he’s looking at me. I fist the cotton in my hand, and I tug him into the darkness of my apartment.
With one hand, he grabs the door before it swings shut, and with the other, he catches my wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. “If we do this, there’s no going back.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
He lets the apartment door shut, and we’re plunged into freeing, amazing darkness.
CHAPTER 13
JEFF
The bag of tacos hits the floor as I scoop Molly into my arms. Her hands slide around my neck, her fingers scratching into my hair, and then our mouths find each other again.
Kissing her is better than breathing.
My pulse skitters, erratic and disbelieving, as I mumble-ask her for directions, and she laughs and tells me to put her down, all in between hungry tastes of each other.
“Not putting you down.”
“Okay, but?—”
“I’ll find it by feel.”
“To the right.”
“Got it.”
“There’s a light switch?—”
