Page 66 of Breakaway Goal

I carefully roll it up and tuck it into the side pocket of my bookbag so that it doesn’t get bent or deformed. We throw away the trash from our shamefully un-nutritious dinner and head to the elevator. There’s no sign of anyone else still in the library at this hour, at least not on this floor.

My cock still hasn’t totally deflated, and when Maddie walks ahead of me, my gaze drops immediately to her pert, heart-shaped ass. My balls draw tight. Fuck, I wish we had somewhere to go.

But as we pass the closed door of one of the study rooms, a devious idea slips into my mind.

I try the handle, and it’s open. I peek my head in the room, and it’s empty.

I look at Maddie, a couple paces ahead of me. She turns to look back, and when she does, her angle makes the curve of her tits pop, delectably noticeable underneath her hoodie. She looks so damn good that my mouth waters.

“What are you doing?” she asks, noticing my hand still on the door handle of the study room.

I curl my lips, feeling my brow lower ferally. “I had an idea.”

Her face flushes, and an interested glimmer comes to her eyes. She tentatively walks to me, looking around to confirm that we’re alone. “An idea?” she asks, an eager lilt to her voice.

I bounce my eyebrows. “Uh-huh.”

The way she tilts her head to look up at me as she’s standing so close only makes the lust pump thicker through my blood.

“What’s that?” she asks.

As hard as my cock is pulsing in my jeans, it’s not my own release that I’m desperate for. It’s hers. Hearing and feeling Maddie Larsen come is the most savagely addictive drug in the world, and I’m desperate for another fix.

But we’re going to do it a different way this time.

“Remember how I just said I’d had enough to eat?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

My grin grows wolfish. “I lied.”

34

MADDIE

Rhys lifts me, and my legs wrap around his trim waist. Giggles bubble from my mouth as a nervous thrill races through me when Rhys steps forward and kicks the door of the study room closed behind us.

White-hot arousal pools between my legs. “We’re really going to do this? In the library?” I whisper scandalously into his ear.

His arms gather under my ass so he can hoist me higher, high enough for him to drag his hot lips against the sensitive skin of my neck. “We absolutely are,” his answer is rumbly and resolute.

I let out a tiny moan as his lips find an area right above my collarbone that sends a shock of pleasure hurtling through me. The tension between my thighs winds tighter. Wet heat blasts through my core, and I can feel how damp my panties are already.

“Rhys,” his name escapes my throat as a plea. There must be something about hearing me say his name like that that he really likes, because a rough growl pulls from his throat, and his kisses on my neck become more frantic.

He sets me down on the edge of the table, his lips still singing my skin.

I grab his jacket and pull it off his arms so I can run my hands along his back, feeling the warm, hard muscles underneath his shirt.

My breaths are heavy and hoarse as he ravishes me with kisses, nipping along the outline of my jaw. My senses are full of him: the warmth of his lips, the firm contours of his muscles, the hard plane of his chest against my breasts, his scent in my nose.

Anticipation builds up inside me, and my center feels like a pool of liquid fire. Just this feels so damn good, I’m almost scared of how good what Rhysreallyhas in mind is going to feel.

My stomach tilts when Rhys reaches for my waist and snaps open the button of my corduroy pants. Torturously slowly, he drags my zipper down, the mechanical sound ratcheting the tension higher.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” he rasps.

I pull in a sharp breath of shock as sparks scatter over my skin, and before I can say anything, Rhys’s lips crush to mine. His tongue is insatiable, darting into my mouth and lashing against my own.

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