Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
He's deadly serious…and God help me, but I don't hate this nearly as much as I probably should. I want him. Here, now, against the freaking wall. It doesn't even matter that someone might see us. I don't care that we're playing with fire. I want to burn.
And I want him to burn, too.
I back up against the wall beside the bench, shivering when he immediately presses his body to mine, caging me in. His hand lands against my shoulder, gliding down until his fingers tangle with mine.
I whimper, my knees trembling as he lifts my hand up over my head, pinning it to the Plexiglas above me.
"Damn," he breathes, his eyes glittering with lust. "I'd spend a whole lot more time in here if you were here."
"Guess it's a good thing I'm not then. You can't skate with your dick in me."
"Wanna bet?"
"Definitely not." He probably can skate with his dick in me. He's crazy talented like that.
His free hand rakes down my body, those talented fingers finding my hard nipples. He plucks and pulls and pinches, sending lava into my veins.
I moan, arching into his touch.
"I love how sweet you sound when you're moaning for me," he murmurs, sliding his hand down the center of my chest. "That sound makes my cock so fucking hard."
"I want to see," I blurt immediately.
"Nah. Not until you come. That's my rule."
"Fuck your rule, Nash."
He growls, leaning forward to bite my lip.
I bite his in return, not willing to play fair if he isn't.
He growls again, shoving his hand in my pants. His fingers are cold against my skin, but the dichotomy is too damn good to resist. I sob his name, my eyes locked on his face.
"I like that sound too, Emilia." He flicks my panties aside, his thumb teasing along my slit. "I've spent the last two nights dreaming about you begging for my cock."
"Funny," I gasp. "I spent them dreaming about you begging for another taste."
His eyes drop to half-mast, his tongue flicking his bottom lip. "You're definitely on the menu tonight. Just as soon as your five minutes are up."
"Clock is ticking, Whatl… Fuck!" I cry, rising up on my toes as he thrusts two fingers inside me without warning. His thumb settles against my clit, a ragged groan escaping his lips.
"Christ, I love breaking your rules, Emilia," he murmurs, his gaze riveted to my face as he finger fucks me against the glass. "You're so damn beautiful when you're going wild for me."
"Nash, please." I writhe in the sweetest torment, caught in a maelstrom of his making, one threatening to drag me under and drown me in bliss.
"Please what, baby girl?"
"Let me come," I whimper, not above begging if that's what he needs to hear to send me toppling off the ledge. When he has his hands on me, I'm willing to give him anything just to keep them there. Just to keep feeling like this. "Please."
He growls my name, his lips sliding toward my ear. "You don't have to beg for anything, Emilia," he breathes, his teeth closing around the shell. "Anything you want, I'll give you. You own me."
I cry out, falling to pieces around his fingers, sobbing his name. He holds me through it, strokes me through it, crooning praise in my ear. I'm surrounded by him, completely annihilated by him. And God help us both, but I'm not going to do a damn thing to stop what's happening.
"Spend the night with me," he whispers against my skin. "I want you in my bed tonight."
I don't tell him no. Of course I don't.
Instead, I drop to my knees, reaching for his zipper.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes dark.
"It's time for your five minutes in the box, Whatley," I murmur, looking up at him as I inch his zipper down. "Be a good boy and don't let anyone hear you."
If there's anyone left in the arena but us…they definitely hear him.
Chapter Six
Nash
"Where the fuck is Logan?" Jordan asks, looking up from his gym bag with a furrow between his brows.
I shrug in response, rummaging through my bag for a protein bar. I'm fucking exhausted already and practice hasn't even started. I blame Emilia. Her little ass keeps me up late every night lately. If she's in my bed, I'm inside her.
If we aren't careful, she's going to end up pregnant. Shit. I hope she ends up pregnant. There won't be any hiding me if she does.
"In a meeting," Archer says, dropping his shit on the bench beside me with a grunt. "Charles Montaque is causing problems."
"Over what this time?" Diego asks, glancing up from his phone.
I watch through slit lids as Archer shrugs, carefully avoiding the question. I'm guessing he knows though. The man knows every goddamn thing we do. He just also happens to know how to keep his mouth shut.