Page 34 of Bad Crush
He controls the pace. Both hands are at my waist, lifting me and bringing me back down over and over. My dress inches up, and he pulls it even higher so that his palms dig into my hip bones. The expression on his face is bliss and lust, and I put it there.
A thousand times I wondered what this moment might be like, but I never imagined it like this. I left too many things out. Things I know I’ll never forget—the nip of his teeth along my jaw, deep groans that vibrate through his body, and the possessive way he grips my skin. And the feeling somewhere deep inside of me that comes alive in a way I can’t explain.
My head falls forward, and I bury it into his shoulder as I come. He’s only a few pumps behind me, slamming me down onto him and driving his hips up, then stilling as he finds his release.
I stay like that, collapsed onto him, until he brushes my hair away from my neck and kisses me chastely. “That was unexpected.”
“Says the guy who had condoms at the ready.”
A chuckle shakes his chest. “Come home with me.”
We both know going to his place or mine makes this more complicated. We’ll have to answer questions once our friends know we’ve hooked up. And they’ll know. There’s no way I’ll be able to hide this huge grin on my face and rumpled dress. One look at me and Ginny and Dakota would know everything.
“Okay,” I agree. All in.
* * *
I textDakota to let her know I’m not coming home and then put my phone away to avoid any reply texts. At the guys’ apartment, we get lucky and don’t have to speak to anyone.
The TV is on and Maverick’s passed out on the couch in front of it. And it looks like by their closed doors, both Rhett and Heath are in their rooms.
Adam hasn’t dropped my hand since we got out of the Jeep. He flips on the light of his bedroom and shuts the door. Crowding my space, he stares down at me with a smile. A real one, the kind that makes my stomach flip. “We’ve done things all out of order. I can’t decide if I want to get you naked again immediately or ask you all the things I planned to ask over dinner.”
“You had questions?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I realized that I don’t know all that much about you. Not like you know me. You’ve paid attention.”
There’s no use in denying it. Little has happened in Adam Scott’s life these past two years that I haven’t noticed.
“Why didn’t you ask them at dinner and save me from myself?”
“Couldn’t get a word in.”
I hide behind my hands.
He laughs and slides my hands away from my face. “It was adorable.”
“I’m pretty sure you know all my embarrassing secrets. Including how I blather on when I’m nervous.”
“Well, I want to know more.”
“Ask me whatever you want.” I sit on the edge of the bed and tug him with our joined hands to follow.
“I’m having a hard time remembering what I wanted to ask. Having you here in my room, on my bed, it’s pretty distracting.”
“The best way to remember something is to focus on something else.”
His gaze darkens, and he leans forward to press his lips to mine. Our kisses are lazier this time, and we even manage to go several minutes without letting our hands explore. But soon, he’s stroking my legs, slowly moving higher until his fingertips disappear under the hem of my dress.
Listen, I know Adam’s dated a lot of girls and therefore slept with a lot of girls, but I’ve never been more aware of it than the second he finds the hidden zipper of my dress and is pulling the fabric over my head. The man has skill.
“Not fair,” I say. “You’re still so clothed, and I’m basically naked.”
“You can take off whatever you want,” he says, voice gruff.
I reach under his T-shirt, but I don’t get very far because his mouth covers one nipple, and I suck in a deep breath. He palms the other and then alternates. I’ve totally forgotten about getting him undressed until he lays me down and covers my body with his.
He helps me pull his shirt over his head and then goes back to worshiping my body as I let my touch roam over his back and chest exploring every muscle. And there are a lot. Adam is tall and broad. His body has been sculpted and defined by years of hockey. I find a raised line and trace the scar on the inside of his bicep with a fingertip.
