My gaze darkens immediately, and I feel the switch. I lean in close, my voice just for her now.
“Keep being bratty.” My hand slides up her thigh. “And see where it gets you.”
“Hopefully?” She leans in, mouth ghosting over mine, her eyes on fire. “With you on top of me.”
My jaw tightens and my hand on her thigh grips harder.
“Melody…” I say it like a warning, but it comes out more like a threat.
“Yes, tough guy?” She smiles innocently, batting her eyelashes.
Okay, someone’s asking for it.
I take her hand and rise from the couch, dragging her up with me. I lead us away from everyone—away from the music, the laughter, and the guys yelling about Tanner’s drinking tolerance and Zed’s terrifying goalie reflexes.
She follows me without asking where we’re going.
She knows.
I walk us upstairs and pause.
“This one’s mine,” she whispers, pointing at a door with a playful smile.
I smirk back at her and pull her toward the room.
The second we step inside, I don’t wait. We’ve been waiting long enough. I push her back against the door the second it clicks shut. My mouth crashes into hers, lips bruising, hands grabbing.
Months of texting. Weeks of pretending. Days of aching.
All of it detonates.
I lift her off the ground, palms under her ass, pressing her back into the wood as her dress rides up around her hips. She wraps her legs around me instantly, gasping into my mouth.
“You wanted to play games downstairs?” I growl, breath ragged. “Keep teasing me with that smart mouth?”
“You liked it.” She tilts her head with a wicked smile.
I carry her across the room and drop her onto the edge of the dresser. Her hair spills down her back and her thighs open like they were waiting for me.
I drag her panties aside, needing to feel her on my fingers again. And when I do… fuck. She’s so wet and smooth I almost groan out loud.
I take two fingers and slide them in slowly.
Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, eyes fluttering, mouth parting on a moan that damn near makes me lose my mind.
“I’ve missed this fucking pussy so much.” I curl my fingers, and her hips jerk.
“You think you can push me around like that in public and not pay for it?” I breathe against her throat.
“Maybe I wanted to pay,” she moans.
“You wanna pay?” I pull back enough to look at her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.
She leans forward, whispering against my mouth.
“Yes.”
“Should I come inside you,” I growl, “or keep you throbbing for me, make you so wet you can’t think straight?”
