Page 85 of Pitcher Perfect
“Yes.”
He’d expected her to hedge or give him a noncommittal answer, so the single word affirmative made him lightheaded, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth. “Really?”
Instead of answering, Skylar sat up and removed her hoodie.
No shirt. No bra. Nothing. Just tits, all warm and rosy from bed.
Robbie got in the fucking bed. “Get over here.” She giggledwhen his knee got tangled in the sheets, preventing him from flattening her on the mattress and getting his mouth on those perky nipples. He could still taste them all covered in shower water. God. “Did I mention I’ve had a few drinks?” he asked, finally getting himself unstuck.
Lunging for her.
Pressing down on top of her with a shuddering sigh from them both.
“Should we wait until you’re sober?” Skylar murmured against his mouth. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
He dove for her neck, razing his teeth in a circle below her ear, before kissing a path along the soft path to her collarbone, back up, gratified by the vibration that started to hum inside of her. Gratified that he was close enough to this wonder of a girl to feel her excitement grow. For him. “Drunk or sober, you have lifelong permission to take advantage of me, Rocket.”
“Soon, Redbeard. Soon.”
“Soon?”
“We’ve followed the schedule to the letter up until now, haven’t we?” His mouth rode over hers, indulging his tongue with a sweep of her mouth, his hips shifting between her thighs. Humping her through their clothes, already obsessed with the firm heat of her pussy.That’s mine. I know it’s mine.“We should wait until midnight so it’s officially Thursday. You know, just to keep the schedule intact.”
He stopped kissing her long enough to witness the mischief in her eye. “Are you teasing me, Page? I didn’t teach you that.”
“Guess it just comes naturally.”
“Yeah? I’d tell you to knock it off, but I love every fucking thing about you.” His palm skimmed up her rib cage to cup her tit, his thumb brushing side to side across her nipple until she was squirming underneath him. “I remember what you told meon the car ride up here. How sex moves too fast for you. How you don’t have a chance to find your rhythm, then it’s over. I was planning on taking my time anyway.” They breathed hard against each other’s mouths. “I don’t want to be in the same category as every punk who blew his chance with you. I want my own category.”
“I...”
“What?”
“I want my own category, too. With you.”
She seemed a little surprised by her own admission. Like maybe it worried her that she wanted something that her brain told her was too far-fetched.
It wasn’t.
“You already have one, Skylar.”
She chewed her lip.
Okay.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only exposed one here. And there would be no sex until she was reassured. He needed to get it right the first time.
In an albeit painful mission to do just that, Robbie rolled off Skylar and onto his side, crushing her immediately to his chest because, lord, he could not fucking help it. Couldn’t help rubbing his cheek on the crown of her head when she tucked it beneath his chin. Couldn’t help sliding a hand into her flannel pajama shorts and gripping her gorgeous ass and dragging her close, needing to feel the sweet give of her pussy against his erection. Couldn’t help memorizing the way her naked tits felt on his bare chest.
God, this was living. This was how he wanted to stay forever. Right there in that bed, connected head to toe with this person.
“You have more than one category and they’re all pretty unique,” he managed, though his throat was tight. “The only girlto remind me who I grew up wanting to be. The only girl I’ve ever dreamed of introducing to my parents. The only girl who can put me in my place and inflate my confidence at the same time... you know, I finally told one of the veterans to fuck off at practice. You were right, it needed to be done.”
“That’s why you have the black eye?” she asked into his throat, sounding breathless.
“Yup. Technically it’s your fault.”
“Hold on. I never condoned violence.”
