Page 67 of The Last Guy On Earth
Jethro
My heart is pounding.If he rejects me, it will kill me. Now that I finally understand that there is more to life than hockey. And that I probably already ruined any chance I ever had at a future with Clay.
He lets out a hot breath, and I wish I could see his face. Then again, my bravado might not hold up if I had to look him in the eye. He’d be able to read my desperation as easily as he reads an opposing team’s weaknesses.
“We can’t,” he finally says.
“Why?” asks the blood pounding in my veins. And other places.
“A player and a coach?” He puts his head in his hands. “Do you even have to ask that question?”
“You really think the rules are the same for us?” I snort. “There’s no coercion here. And you sure weren’t my coach the first hundred times we got tangled up together.”
He groans, and I like it. It’s the sound of a man who never forgot how hot we are together.
“Besides,” I press. “Who’s going to know?”
“Me,” he says grumpily.
I put my hands back on his shoulders and squeeze gently, and he seems to melt under my touch. “You want me to go? I’ll go now. But I still haven’t heard a real objection.”
“You want to know the real problem? Fine.” Suddenly he stands, whirling to face me. His color is high, and his eyes are flashing the most beautiful shade of blue. “It willmess with my head.I can’t just blow off steam with you and shake it off in the morning. I never could. Happy now?”
Oh shit.
“Oh shit,” I whisper. “Clay.”
He looks away, his expression pained. I stand up and cup his face with one hand, gently turning it to me. “I’m sorry. I’m an ass.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “I never meant to mess with your head. And this isnotjust blowing off steam for me. It really never was.”
His face reddens, and he moves from my grasp. “Damn you, Jethro—seriously—for saying every damn thing I wanted to hear, but fifteen years too late.” His eyes flash with anger. “You have the worst timing in the whole damn world.”
Like that’s even a surprise? “No wonder I got shelled tonight, then,” I say.
He gives me a look of profound exasperation, and I brace myself to be evicted from the room.
“What the hell am I going to do with you?” he asks.
It’s a fair question.
But then Clay answers it, and not the way I’m expecting. Suddenly, his hands land on my chest and he gives me a shove, forcing me roughly backwards. My knees hit the bed, and I topple onto the mattress.
“You are a giant pain in the ass,” he says in a graveled voice.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I really like your ass.”
The growl he makes is full of violence, and his mouth has curled into a snarl. He leans over me, bracing both hands onthe bed. Then he drops down to give me the angriest kiss in the history of kisses.
For a split second my reflexes fail me. Clay’s kiss is all pressure and heat, and all I can do is lie there and take it. But I’m a greedy man, so I catch on soon enough. I pull him into my arms and then down onto my chest, the way I’ve been aching to do since I walked into this room.
He growls again, forcing his tongue into my mouth, as if to teach me a lesson.
I don’t need schooling on this, though. I’m riled up and ready as I slide my tongue against his and moan.
“I hate you,” he says fervently, in between deep pulls of my mouth.
“Okay,” I slur.
“You’re a force of chaos in my life,” he says before nipping my bottom lip.
