Page 50 of The Trade

“Sure, I think about that a lot,” he confesses, a faint blush heating his cheeks. “Probably more than I should. But there’s more to it. I think about your sense of humor, how fucking funny you are.” He closes the distance between us, invading my space again, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind my ear. His hand lingers, fingers softly tracing the curve of my jawline. “I think about your wit, your sharp comebacks, the way your eyes light up when you smile or laugh. I think about how being around you makes me feel, like I’m not just some aimless jock, adrift in a sea of expectations.”

His words send a warm wave of butterflies straight to my stomach. I lean into his touch, his large hand cradling my face. He draws a shaky breath before continuing. “You make me feel like I matter, like I’m more than just a football player.”

“I do?”

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He grins, a genuine, heart-stopping smile. “I like you, Jade. I don’t want to be just a fuck buddy to you. I want more with you.”

My heart leaps in my chest, a smile spreading across my face. “I want that, too.”

He perks up at my response, a spark igniting in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” I confirm, my voice steady and confident. “Spending time with you makes me happy, too. You make me feel good.”

“Good,” he murmurs, nodding slowly. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

At my eager “yes,” he’s leaning in again. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that hits me like a bolt of electricity. The initial touch is soft, exploratory, but the spark it ignites is anything but gentle.

Then my lips part, and the kiss deepens. His mouth claims mine with a raw intensity that leaves me breathless, our lips crushing, bruising together. He teases my bottom lip between his teeth, his tongue slipping past to taste me.

The cool wall presses against my back, acting as a stark contrast to the solid warmth of his body. Moving from my jaw, his hand traces a searing path down to my waist, his strong fingers pulling our bodies closer.

A low, involuntary moan escapes me as my hips move against his. He pulls back a fraction, his gaze sweeping over my face, my lips, my body in a hungry appraisal.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he groans.

Heat floods through me. The feeling of his hardness pressing against me makes me clench my thighs together, desire coursing in my veins. So, I reach down to fumble with the button on his jeans.

“Hold on,” he rasps, catching my hands in his. “I don’t—fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but . . . we shouldn’t rush this.”

His words send my mind reeling. “Sorry, what?” I pant, confused and off-balance.

“I want to show you that I really want this. You,” he says, running his thumb gently across my bottom lip. “Us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jade,” he says, voice rough with emotion, gaze locked onto mine. “Let me take you out on a proper date first.”

I let his words settle, pausing for a few moments, my heart thudding erratically in my chest. “Theo Westman-Cooke,” I tease, the corners of my lips tugging up into a knowing smirk. “Are you trying to woo me right now?”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

“Wow,” I finally manage, my mind reeling. “Okay ... so, no sex until we go on a real date?”

“That’s the deal.”

My eyes flit down to the obvious bulge in his jeans. “Hmm,” I drawl, pretending to consider the proposal. “Can I at least blow you first?”

His gasp is almost comical, and his voice comes out husky and choked with surprise. “Fuck, seriously?”

“Seriously.” I pull my lower lip between my teeth, an attempt at seduction. “I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since last night.”

“Oh, sweet Christ,” he groans, his head falling back as he tries to rein in his desire.

I bite back a triumphant smile, playing coy. “Is that a yes?”

His eyes snap open, and he almost stutters as he says, “Uh . . . I mean, no. A deal’s a deal.” His eyes flicker with regret. “No sex, period. Including oral.”

Shaking my head, I break into laughter. “You’re such a prude.”

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