Page 153 of Hard Pass

She gasps and runs her hands down it. I love how animated the tequila makes her. “Then I’m definitely washing it and putting it in your pile in the laundry room,” she says. “Thank you for letting me wear it today.”

“It’s yours, Dublin.”

In more ways than just a jersey.

She swallows. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“It’s yours.” I take a step forward. “Red suits you.”

“Perfect. I’ll wear it all the time.”

“Only if it’s just the jersey,” I say as her eyebrows quirk up.

“Is that so?”

“Hmm, I love you in that jersey—more than you can imagine. But I like you even better out of it.”

She blushes and this time when she steps up to me and kisses me, there’s more heat to it. Her hands slide up my chest and thread through the hair at the back of my neck as her tongue twines with mine.

She tastes like tequila and desire and that’s a mixture I could get drunk on easily. Maybe I already have.

She pulls back, her pupils wide and smile soft. “Name the time and place, Valor, and I’ll take it off just for you.”

My dick hardens instantly. Does she have any fucking clue what she does to me?

I look around the suite and then look back at her, quirking my eyebrows. She follows my gaze and the gives me a dubious look.

“You’ve got to be joking,” she says.

I brush my lips against hers again. The feel of her body against mine’s an even greater temptation. “It is my suite,” I say.

The playful edge to her expression transitions to suggestion, her smile coy. “Mmm,” she hums. “It is, is it?”

I lean into her ear, love the hitch of her breath as I lace an open-mouthed kiss in the spot just beneath her ear. “And I know where the blind spot is.”

When I lean back, her eyes spark. “Do you take all your women here and seduce them, Valor?”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to the current one.” My tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip. “And, no. No woman has ever been in here with me.”

Something flickers across her face. Surprise. Satisfaction. Maybe both.

“But,” I add as I run my thumb over her bottom lip, “you can’t fault a guy for knowing where they are.”

Her smile turns wicked. “So where’s the blind spot exactly?”

I nod and turn toward the far corner. There’s no way, straight-and-narrow Dublin Locke would ever agree to this. And yet, here she is.

The minute the thought clears my mind, she wraps her fists in my shirt and yanks me down toward her, toward the blind corner. She stands on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine.

“To the victor,” she murmurs, “goes the spoils.”

And then her body collides with mine just like her lips do, and she kisses me like she plans to collect.

CHAPTER FORTY

Dublin

“I liked you better when your life was boring.”