Page 148 of Collide
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, still kneeling between his legs, flushed and smug.
“Well,” I smirk, looking up at him, “I’m clearly a fast learner.”
He stares like he wants to drag me onto his lap and have his way with me, like I’ve just become his new favorite sin.
“Plus, you make it easy,” I say, grinning up at him. “You’re a very convincing teacher.”
Heat curls in my chest—there’s something heady about knowing I gavehima first.
He lets out a strangled laugh, fingers sliding into my hair again, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. “Convincing?”
“Sexy,” I correct, lifting my chin. “Unreasonably sexy. Like, unfair-to-the-public levels of sexy.”
His eyes darken, mouth curving with something wicked. “Then consider this your A-plus.”
I bite down a smile. “Do I get a gold star?”
“Maybe.” He leans in, lips at my ear. “If you’re a naughty girl.”
Heat sparks low. I clench, just to feel it—the afterglow, the ache, his breath skating down my spine.
“I think…” I whisper. “I’d like that.”
And for the first time, I almost can’t wait either.
He makes me feel wanted—craved—like every breath I take is something he needs to touch.
The sound of splashing water,music, and carefree laughter drifts through the air as Alex and I step outside onto the sunlit patio to rejoin the festivities. The pool shimmers under the afternoon glow, surrounded by white-cushioned loungers, cabanas, and clusters of guests clad in chic designer swimwear.
Philippa’s bachelorette entourage is gathered near the private bar, all sun-kissed skin and champagne flutes, looking like something out of a high-fashion editorial. Andrew’s crowd—a mix of business moguls and trust-fund heirs—stands near the outdoor lounge, trading stories over cocktails.
Everything looks perfect.
Except for the fact that as soon as we step outside, I feel it.
Broderick’s stare.
His eyes sweep over me once, slowly, lingering just a second too long. And Alex notices.
His fingers tighten slightly around mine, his jaw tensing, but he says nothing. The air between them is thick, unreadable, but I feel it settling in my chest—a silent, territorial tension.
I force a smile, pretending not to notice.
“Let’s get some food,” I say quickly, tugging Alex toward the buffet, desperate to redirect the energy before something happens.
Alex lets me lead him away, but I can feel the silent challenge still hanging between them.
Riley, sprawled poolside with a margarita, has clearly clocked the whole thing. The second we pass, she slinks over, looping her arms around me like we’re about to share something scandalous.
“Oh, babe,” she murmurs, eyes glinting. “Your life is officially the world’s hottest territorial pissing match.”
I shoot her a warning look. “Stop it.”
“What?” she grins. “I mean, I love a good brooding, possessive stare-down, but at some point, you do realize they’re gonna have to fight it out in some high-stakes, shirtless duel, right?”
Alex arches an eyebrow. “You think I’d lose?”
Riley releases me, lifting her drink like this is all some sport. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” She scrunches her nose, feigning innocence.
