Looking to Score(33)

I smoothed out my clothes and started walking again. My heart was still racing from the chase. I took deep breaths and repeated the first mantra that came to mind: Allow me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Ok, it was the AA mantra, but I was currently under a lot of stress, and it was the only one that I could think of.

I had just about calmed down when a hand covered my mouth for the second time tonight. Strong arms pulled me backward. I couldn’t make a sound, and Heath and Kyle didn’t even notice that I was being kidnapped. So much for protecting the ball at all costs.

“Hey, Solver,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

I gasped as a hard body dragged me toward the tree line. Oakley’s hands pressing against my mouth stifled the scream that I wanted to release. These freshmen were useless.

“Where’d she go?” the fuckboy asked.

“Shit. Maybe she went back for Ryan. Let’s go back.”

Oakley pressed his body against mine, and I could feel him silently chuckling behind me. He was enjoying this way too much.

The moment both guys were out of sight, he spun me around and pushed me against the hard bark of a nearby tree. “Problem, you are in so much trouble,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Solver, why are you so hot when you’re mad?” he asked playfully.

I shifted on my feet as he invaded my space, his warm scent washing over me in waves. “Why are you so annoying when you tease me?”

Oakley laughed before biting his lip. I could only see the faint outline of his face in the dark night. I hated being out here, but somehow I felt safer now that I was with him. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“Do you know what I think?” he asked before leaning closer to whisper against the shell of my ear.

“Are you even capable of thinking?” I rasped. I desperately wanted to hide the heat in my voice, but it was proving to be impossible. He ignored my barb.

“I think you like being teased,” he whispered, grabbing my hips. “I think you like it a whole fucking lot.” He dug his fingers into the small slice of skin between my shirt and jeans, then pressed his pelvis against me. I turned my head away defiantly. I couldn’t kiss my client. We couldn’t cross the line. I needed to graduate. My hands braced against his chest, determined to push him away.

But instead, my fingers had a mind of their own, remaining on his chest and then roaming the expanse of his muscular torso with lingering, slow movements. When I dragged a sharp fingernail against his abs, Oakley gasped.

His hand cupped my chin, and he turned my face to his, inadvertently brushing our heated lips against one another. I whimpered at the short-lived contact. “You smell so fucking good,” he whispered against my lips. “You feel fucking good, too.”

He pushed his leg between mine, forcing my heat to brace against his thigh. Oh shit. Ohhhhh shit, this was bad.

But oh so good.

“We should probably go find the others,” I stammered.

“We should.”

“I have so much homework to do. And I need to check your schedule. We have a press release planned for your upcoming game.”

“All very important things,” he agreed.

“I should really…” I was running out of excuses.

“You should really let me taste you,” Oakley insisted before diving in for a kiss.

His hot mouth against mine was devouring and harsh. His hands roamed my body without caution or restraint. I gasped against him, and the slight part of my lips allowed him access to deepen the kiss.

He tasted like Diet Coke and mint gum, an odd combination but still seductive all the same. Usually when I kissed someone, my mind wandered to all the insecure thoughts that plagued me when I was with someone. Did my breath stink? Was I bad at this? Did I shave my furburger?

But with Oakley, it was like the roaring perfectionist within me was quieted. I felt carefree and wanton, pawing at his muscular body with my fingers as he moaned into my mouth. We were loud. Frantic. Sloppy and passionate. He cupped my breast as I spread my legs wider to grind against his thigh.

My lady button was preening like a motherfucking peacock. She was used to attention of the vibrating variety, and it was nice to feel something alive and warm—and not battery operated.

“Wow, uh, you’re really good at this,” I sighed lamely as he moved to pepper kisses along my jaw and nip at my neck. “Like, so good.” He pressed harder against my pussy.

“Stop talking, Solver," he said, chuckling. "Get out of your head for five minutes.”

Get out of my head? I could get out of my head. I was cool as a cat.

A cat in heat.

A starving cat in heat that wouldn’t stop meowing.

I trailed my fingers lower and rested them on the edge of his waistband. Oakley stiffened. He was stiff everywhere. Oh my God, was that a hammer in his pants? It felt lethal against my stomach. A weapon of mass destruction. One-eyed concrete member of fucking doom.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he moaned before devouring my lips once more. His warning was meant to taunt me, but it served as a stark reminder that this would never...finish.

Oh fuck, I was two seconds away from cupping my client’s junk.

I pulled away breathlessly. “We should stop.”