Page 181 of Jaded

“Hot damn!” Everton shouts. “Tay and James!”

“Jay! Tay and Jay!” someone else—origins unknown—giggles in the background like the unseen peanut gallery. “TayJay, like a celeb couple.”

“TayJay!” Ever laughs in agreement. “That’s great.”

“We are great,” I shoot right back. “Thank you for noticing.”

Everyone in the locker room laughs.

I must be feeling good, ’cause me ’n’ the boys are fire in practice today. We wind through passing drills like we’ve been doing it our whole lives. We sling shots back and forth so fast, I’m pretty sure even major league pros would be hard pressed to keep up.

When Coach adds defenders in, we annihilate the competition. Zig-zagging passes through the defenders, making Adyn spin in his net. We score on every damn play. I think Coach might have come in his pants. Naturally, he pretends not to be pleased.

“You better hope you and Avery can find this kind of synergy,” Coach mutters as we file off the ice.

Which honestly ain’t that much of a smackdown because, “Don’t worry, Coach. Avery and I are a pretty bomb duet.”

Chapter 47

Olli

Thatnight,NatandI eat dinner on his couch—since Syd's over at her girl friend Maggie's for the evening—plucking chicken and rice and noodles straight from the containers with chopsticks whileSherlockplays on the TV on the wall. I’ve seen it before, and maybe he has too, or he’s not interested, because his eyeballs spend a lot of time on my face.

Not that I’m not doing the same. Tracking the way he chews, swallows, laughs, the green of his eyes and the flickering light and shadows across his cheekbones as the TV froths across his skin.

Everything about him, about us, is so easy now. The way he laughs, talks, the way his eyes flick between TV and food and my face. I set my empty container down on the coffee table, kick my feet up, and relax back into the cushions.

He mimics my movements, except instead of reclining back, he leans in towards me, and his fingers sweep along the curve of my jaw. “I want to kiss you.”

“Then do it.” I tilt my head up towards him. “I dare you.”

He laughs, and the sound whispers over my skin, sends a cool shiver of pleasure down my spine. And then his mouth closes over mine. Soft and sweet and tender. Something so much more powerful and passionate than any of the sexual intimacy we’ve shared thus far.

I close my eyes. Feel the wet press of my lashes against my cheek, hope he doesn’t notice because his eyes are closed too. I let my lips part, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

Right. All of it so right. Everything about him, about us. Right.

Terrifying.

It’s more than I’ve ever experienced with anyone before. And I think, for the first time in my life, I’m going to chase this feeling without trying to control it or run from it because it makes me vulnerable.

Stop overthinking and just go.

I lift my hands, tangle them into his hair, and I kiss him back. With all my heart and soul, with everything I’ve got, I kiss him.

Doesn’t take long for that simple kiss to turn hot and heated. Not with my fingers tangled through his long, soft hair, not with our tongues dancing, not when he leans forward so his body and heat press me into the cushions and his soft scent is a caress against my senses.

Not when he’s my whole world.

He shifts closer, so his entire body engulfs mine—calves and thighs and hips—so I’m sure he notices when arousal surges through me and my cock starts to thicken against his leg.

Just like I feel when he reciprocates.

I drop my hands to his shoulders, to his waist, pulling him closer so I can rock my hips up into him. Giving us both the friction we so clearly crave. “How do you want me, Mouse?”

I barely get the words out through our entwined tongues.

He breaks off the kiss but keeps his forehead pressed to mine. Keeps his chest against mine, so I track the heavy rise and fall of his breaths. So I know his cock’s at full-mast now, and he wants me, wants me, just like I want him.

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