Page 69 of The Hearts We Fumble
She winces, but then a laugh bubbles out of her. “Well, thank God, because if that were true, what we just did would be… really awkward.”
“Oh, is that right?” I smirk, shifting so I’m hovering over her again, settling between her legs.
She giggles, squirming as I grab her wrists and pin them above her head.
Then I roll my hips, pressing my already hardening length against her heat, and her laughter dies on a sharp inhale.
“You feel that, baby?” My rough voice is thick with need. “You feel how fuckin’ hard you make me? Would this happen if you were like a sister to me?”
“God, I hope not,” she breathes, her hands fisting the sheets.
I grin wickedly, reaching between us to position myself at her entrance. And when I thrust inside her—hard and deep—her head falls back, a gasp spilling from her lips.
“Mmm,” I hum, dragging my mouth over her throat, feeling the way her pulse races beneath my tongue. “I think I just found the best way to shut that smart mouth of yours.”
“Zane,” she moans, her nails scraping down my back. Gripping my ass, she pulls me deeper, voice thick with desperation. “Fuck me.”
I groan, my control snapping like a frayed wire.
“It would be my fuckin’ pleasure,” I growl, shifting my weight, gripping her hip as I drive into her. “Now, be a good girl and feed me that sweet nipple, baby. I want to feel this pussy squeeze around me when you come.”
She does—again and again—until we’re both wrecked and completely spent.
When I finally collapse beside her, I don’t let her go. I pull her against me, skin to skin, my face buried in the crook of her neck, breathing her in like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.
And when sleep pulls me under, it’s the best fucking rest I’ve had in over a year.
Chapter Sixteen
Wyatt
My class schedule aligns with Zane’s on Mondays and Wednesdays, so we’ve been riding to campus together.
The last time we pulled into the lot, he parked near the front and casually offered to walk me to class. I wanted to say yes—wanted those last few minutes with him before we had to go our separate ways—but we’re still in uncharted territory.
We haven’t discussed what we’ll do when someone inevitably sees us together.
Because it’s not a matter ofif—butwhen.
Braysen might be a university, but in a small town like this? Word spreads fast. Throw in football players and relationships, and suddenly, you’ve got front-page gossip.
Zane’s hand rests on my knee as he backs out of the driveway, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against my skin.
He looks so effortlessly good today in a fitted Henley and denim jeans, his damp hair curling slightly at the edges from his shower after conditioning. There’s product in it—something to tame the messy strands—but it looks just unruly enough to remind me of when he used to grow it longer a few years back.
My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and rake through it.
Instead, I settle for placing my hand over his.
“You’re staring.” His smirk is full of smug amusement, eyes flicking to me before focusing back on the road. “You like what you see there, firecracker?”
I roll my eyes, ignoring the way my pulse stutters at that nickname. “You’re so full of yourself, you know that?”
He chuckles. “It’s okay to admit you’ve got a crush on me. It’s not like I haven’t known for years.”
My scoff is immediate. “Years? Are youserious?”
His smirk widens. “I mean, am I wrong?”
