Page 122 of The Rookie

Testing me.

And I’m about one second away from failing.

I drag my tongue along my bottom lip, my voice rougher than I mean for it to be.

"Careful, Sinclair."

She smirks, tilting her head.

"Why?"

I exhale sharply, running a hand over my jaw.

"Because if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna stop playing nice."

Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips.

"Maybe I don’t want nice."

I lose every ounce of restraint I had left.

I surge forward, closing the space between us, crashing my mouth to hers.

And fuck.

The second our lips connect, the tension that’s been brewing, simmering, boiling over all damn night?

It detonates.

She lets out a soft noise against my mouth, her fingers gripping my shoulders, pulling me closer, like this was always inevitable.

And maybe it was.

Maybe I never stood a fucking chance with her.

Because the second I get a taste—I’m gone.

I kiss her hard, deep, like I have something to prove, like I need to make her feel exactly how much she’s been driving me crazy.

She gasps when I haul her into my lap, straddling me, her bare thighs framing my hips.

The water sloshes over the edge from the ripples we’re making, heat rolling through me as she grinds down just enough to make me curse.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging, and I groan into her mouth, gripping her hips, pressing her down harder.

Her breath is ragged, her lips kiss-swollen, and when I drag my mouth down her throat, nipping at the soft skin, she lets out the softest, sexiest little whimper.

I pull back, breathing hard, my hands still wrapped around her waist.

I feel the way she’s shaking.

I feel how bad she wants this.

But I need to hear her say it.

I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.

"Tell me how reckless you wanna be, Sinclair."

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