His words lingered in the air as we both pretended to try to finish our food, but it was pointless. The tension was too thick to focus on anything but each other. Mateo put hisalmost-gone burger down, eyes lifting to meet mine like he was daring me to look away first.
“You keep staring at me like that,” I murmured, eyes darting to the side to look at the other patrons, “and people are going to notice.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “Let them.” His voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear him. “You’re the one squirming.”
Heat crawled up my neck that he noticed. I reached for my glass, buying myself a second. “Maybe if you stopped looking at me like you’re about to hop over this table, I wouldn’t be.”
Mateo leaned back, fingers flexing on the table. “Who said I won’t?”
I couldn’t help but wiggle again. The pressure between my legs was almost too much.
The waiter chose that moment to pass by, breaking the stare down between us. Mateo exhaled through his nose then glanced at the door over my shoulder. “We’re done here,” he said, possessive and decisive like his control was barely hanging on.
My pulse kicked up as he grabbed his wallet and threw some bills on the table, not bothering to wait for the check. He stood and offered me his hand. The restaurant suddenly felt too small, too crowded.
With his hand in mine, we quickly weaved through the tables, paying no heed to the stares as we left and headed for his car.
The tensionthat filled the car was heady. I clenched my thighs together, trying my hardest not to shift too much in the passenger seat. I kept my eyes focused on what passed out the window, my imagination going wild on what was going to happen when we got to Mateo’s apartment. We hadn’t said out loud that was where we were going, but we both knew it.
He placed his hand on my thigh, fingertips curling to the inside of my leg. His hand was warm on my bare skin, his rough callouses sending a shiver down my spine. I bit down on my bottom lip.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as Mateo’s jaw tightened, his muscles flexing as he kept his eyes on the road. He squeezed me, as if he sensed my gaze on him.
I moved without thinking, shifting my hips forward so his hand could move higher, his index finger now inches from the seam of my shorts, which were pressed tightly against my core.
“Emmie.” His voice sounded pained. His grip on my thigh was firm. “Patience.”
“Youhave patience,” I mumbled. The comeback was immature, but I didn’t care. I wanted Mateo, and I wanted himnow.Of course he heard me and rubbed his thumb back and forth on my skin. That didn’t help one bit.
Thankfully, he turned into the parking lot of a high rise moments later. Surprisingly, his apartment wasn’t far from mine. More expensive, yes, but I expected nothing less from a star quarterback that just won The Legacy Championship.
He pulled into an underground parking lot, pricey cars lining the stalls. A lot fancier than my outside parking spot.
Once he parked, I undid my seat belt and opened my door, not waiting for him to come around and do it for me. His hand immediately grabbed mine when I met him at the front of his Range Rover. Impatience filled the spacebetween us, as the two of us headed toward a door that led inside the building.
Mateo held the door as I slipped by, shoulder brushing his chest. Just that little contact made my skin light on fire. As we entered the lobby an older gentleman at the little front desk called out.
“Great game, Mateo!”
“Thanks, Edwin.” Mateo shot him a smile while pulling me toward the elevator on the far side of the foyer. I offered the man a smile over my shoulder, not wanting to be rude.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he guided me inside. My back was pressed against the cold railing within seconds, Mateo’s big frame filling my vision. My eyes fluttered as his hand cupped the side of my neck, his thumb pressed under my chin to lift my head up.
The elevator jolted into motion, and our closeness became unbearable. His heat, his scent, the way his eyes never left mine. I swallowed, nerves and want tangling tight in my chest. Mateo leaned in, stopping just short of my lips, a smirk curving like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
When the doors finally chimed open, Mateo leaned in just enough for his breath to ghost over my lips. “We’re not done,” he murmured. His hand tightened for a split second before he let go.
I followed him out of the elevator, legs shaky. If I thought I was turned on before, that was nothing like how I felt right now. My skin was sensitive to the touch, every nerve ending on fire.
My head was in such a fog that I didn’t notice Mateo unlocking his door until I stepped through, only to be twisted around until my back was pushing the door closed with a click.
Our mouths met with a clash. His teeth nipped at my lips, tongue soothing the slight sting. My hands gripped the frontof his shirt in tight fists, urging him closer until my chest was pressed against his, his muscular leg wedged between mine.
Mateo’s hand drifted to my throat again and added just enough pressure to make me moan loudly into his waiting mouth. He echoed the sound back to me when my right hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, fingertips brushing against his bare stomach. His abdominal muscles flexed.
Unable to control myself, I rubbed my core against his thigh. I kissed him with fever as I dry humped his leg. His free hand grabbed my ass and assisted. The seam of my shorts rubbed perfectly against my clit, and I shuddered.
He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down to my neck. His hand left my neck and lowered to my breast, kneading the flesh through my jersey.
