Page 65 of A Little Crush
Holy shit.
Holy. Freaking. Shit.
I’ve never felt like this before. So hot and bothered and on edge. It’s like my body isn’t my own. No, right now, I’m nothing but a puppet, and Jaxon Thorne is the one pulling the strings.
“Tell me you want me,” he rasps, shifting lower and resting his forehead between my breasts.
My pulse stalls in my chest as I register his words. But even then, I don’t believe them.Can’tbelieve them. “What?” I whisper.
He breathes in deep, relaxing into me even more. “You smell incredible.”
With a light laugh, I drag my fingertips along the back of his skull like before and try not to lose my ever-loving mind.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he adds. Turning his head to one side, he collapses onto me again, giving me all of his weight. And honestly, I’m grateful. If he kept kissing me, if he kept touching my boob, I’m pretty sure he would’ve tried taking things even further, and there’s no way I could’ve let that happen. Not when he’s like this. There are only so many firsts a girl can cross off the list in one night. I also don’t know how I would’ve told him to stop.
His breathing turns deeper and deeper, slowly transitioning to a light snore while I keep dragging my fingers along his hairline. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down. And all the while, my mind spins.
Jaxon Thorne just kissed me.
Jaxon Thorne is literally asleep on top of me. In my bed. After touching my boobs and turning me on in a way I’ve never been before. It’s scary. And confusing. And addictive. I never really understood Tatum’s desire to hook up with random guys before she settled down with Paxton. But now that I’ve felt it? What actual attraction and chemistry feel like? Okay, I definitely see the appeal. And if Jaxon hadn’t stopped kissing me—and wasn’t drunk—would I have let him go further? The answer’s yes. Hands down, no questions asked, one hundred and ten percent yes.
And that? That’s a terrifying thought. The uneven pitter-patter in my chest only feeds my anxiety. But it isn’t fear behind it. It’s hope. And anticipation. And maybe even a little excitement mixed with trepidation as I memorize the feel of his silky strands between my fingers.
He kissed me.
Hekissedme.
Is this it? Is this the moment I’ve never even hoped to dream about? Is it possible? Does Jaxon Thorne have feelings for me, too? I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I know this. But I can’t help it. This entire night might not mean anything in the morning, but if it does…
Stop, I silently reprimand.
But I don’t. Instead, I spend the rest of the night soaking up every single second with the man on top of me, praying this isn’t a dream, and he finally wants me for real.
25
JAXON
Iwipe at my tired eyes, my skull throbbing like I took a baseball bat to the head at some point after the game. Hell, with how fuzzy last night feels, I just might’ve. Stretching across the bed, I cover my yawn with my forearm and force one eye open. Light filters in through the hotel window, proving it’s well past my usual wake up time.
Where’s Poppy?
Sitting up, I search the room for her crib, but it’s missing.
What the hell?
Babbling sounds from the main area, and I wipe at the corner of my eye, attempting to piece together what happened last night. We lost. It sucked. I gave my two cents during the post-game interviews, fought the urge to throw a chair at one of the reporters, then went to the bar with a few of the players. After that, it’s fuzzy at best. I scrub my hand over my face, trying to piece shit together. What happened after the bar? Let’s see. I came back to the room, and…shit.Nausea swirls in my stomach and I pinch the bridge of my nose. I kissed Rory. I climbed into her bed, rambled for whothe fuck knows how long, kissed her, felt her up, then fell asleep on top of her.
Shit!
My body feels like I was hit with a truck, but I force it to move anyway. Rolling out of Rory’s bed, I pad to the doorway and lean against the doorjamb when Rory and Poppy come into view. They’re on the couch, reading a book about all the animals on a farm when Hades lifts his head from the ground, triggering Rory to look up at me.
“Oh.” She smiles at me. “Hey. Good morning.”
Good morning? That’s all she has to say? Did I dream it? Last night? No, I literally woke up in her bed, so it’s not possible I dreamt it. Not this time, anyway. But she’s acting…normal. I think? Shit, I don’t know.
“How are you feeling?” she prods.
Confused as shit is how I’m feeling. And guilty, and hung over, and…
