Broken Course (11 page)

When I’m able to drag myself away from her, I rush out like a caveman, "Home. Bed. Now."

"Okay. Yeah," she says shakily while smoothing down her hair.

I walk around the car and open her door, careful not to touch her again. I just need to get her home—and hopefully naked.

IT SEEMS that the kiss in the parking lot was exactly what Sarah needed to loosen up. It wasn’t a long ride back to my apartment, but, surprisingly, she held my hand the whole way. In moments when she would use her overly animated hand gestures while talking, she never truly released me. Instead, she very purposefully placed my hand on her thigh. I’ve never been so turned on by such a simple gesture—or grateful that the darkness cloaked the hard-on I was sporting most of the way.

"You want something to drink?" I ask as soon as we walk in.

"Nah, I’m good," she replies, eyeing me as I walk to the fridge and retrieve a beer for myself. "You’ve never asked me why I don’t drink. Why is that?" she asks curiously.

"I figure you’ll tell me when you want to," I say quickly.

But I know exactly why she doesn’t drink. There’s a lot I know about Sarah. However, those aren’t the parts I want to talk about tonight.

"What if I were a recovering alcoholic?" She walks over to the kitchen to stand directly in front of me. "You’ve never asked about drinking in front of me either."

I can tell by the twitch of her lips that she is just giving me a hard time, but the gleam in her eye exposes her insecurities. Insecurities I plan to put to rest.

"You agreed to meet me at a bar on our first date," I say simply while tipping the beer to my lips. "I’m assuming that, if you were a recovering alcoholic, you wouldn’t have chosen a sports bar tonight either."

"Oh, yeah. Probably not." She gives me a weak smile.

I place the beer down on the counter and grab her hips, sliding my hands down to splay across her ass for the very first time. Her eyes go wide, but she doesn’t back away. Instead, she casually rests her hands on my chest.

"Just so you know. If you were a recovering alcoholic, it wouldn’t bother me in the least." Leaning forward, I place a soft kiss to her lips. Then I slide my hands up her sides and guide each of her arms around my neck. "Because the fact that you no longer drink would mean that you have overcome it. It would mean that you struggled, just like we all do, and that you didn’t succumb. You would’ve had to fight to get where you are today, and that kind of strength should not
ever
be interpreted as a weakness. That kind of strength is a rare thing of beauty."

"Jesus," she whispers as tears sparkle in her eyes.

I watch for a moment as something passes over her. Her shoulders relax and she lets out a sound that can only be described as a whimper of relief. I rub her back as she takes a second to collect herself. Finally, she laughs, dropping her forehead to my chest.

"How the hell did you just make alcoholism sexy?"

"It’s a gift." I smile, using a finger under her chin to lift her eyes back to mine. "Now, Sarah, are you a recovering alcoholic?" I ask even though I know the answer.

"No," she breathes.

"Do you mind if I drink in front of you?"

"No." She leans forward, brushing her lips across mine. "But I do mind that you haven’t properly kissed me yet." As she drags her hands down my chest, reaching them around to grab my ass, I can’t help but smile at her boldness.

"Mmm, we should really take care of that." I cup her face between my hands. My thumbs stroke her flawless skin as her cheeks begin to flush.

"I agree." She sways even closer, pressing her chest against mine.

Very slowly, I move toward her mouth, pausing at the last second to say, "In my bed." I release her and step back against the counter. I casually pick up my beer and take another sip.

"That was mean," she says with a smile.

"I know, but I’m just not sorry." I smirk, using my beer bottle to point toward the hallway. "Lead the way. You remember where my bed is, right?"

"You have lost your damn mind if you think I’m sprinting down the hall and jumping into your bed like some desperate woman just because you told me to." She cocks her head with false attitude. "Don’t get me wrong, Leo. You’re a good-looking guy and all, but that’s not my style." She crosses her arms over her chest, forcing her already large breasts together to the point where they almost pop out of her dress.

"Ah, now you’re playing dirty," I groan, staring at her cleavage and praying to God that the thin straps suddenly break. When I drag my gaze back to hers, I find her eyes dancing with laughter. "I see what you’re doing here." I release the buttons at my wrists. Then, with one swift movement, I tug my shirt and undershirt over my head.

She bites her lip as I flex my abs just for good measure, and I can tell the minute she sees the tattoo on my side. It’s the same look of heat every woman gets until they realize what it says:

Liv

Love

Lie

I’m not sure if it’s the name Liv or the word ‘lie’ that makes women pause, but if history is any indicator, she’ll ask about the part that bothers her in three, two, one…

"Nice tattoo."

"Thanks."

She swallows hard, and I once again tip the beer bottle to my lips, preparing my lies for the questions that are sure to follow. But they never come. Instead, she slides the straps of her dress down her arms. My mouth goes dry as she pauses to make sure I am watching. The twinkle of mischief in her eyes is unmistakable.

"See, now I feel like you’re challenging me. I’ve never been able to turn down a challenge." She shrugs then pushes the thin cotton dress down her chest. It falls down over her curved hips and pools on the floor at her feet.

My mouth would have gaped open at her confidence, but that would have required at the very least an involuntary reaction. Currently, every single brain cell I possess is ensnared by the unbelievably sexy woman standing in front of me wearing only a strapless black bra, lace panties, and black heels.

Holy. Fuck.

I suck in a deep breath, loving every second of where this is headed.

"Me either." I toe off my shoes and lean down to remove my socks, never tearing my eyes away from her knowing smile—except maybe to look at her breasts. I stand up and grab my belt, not moving any further. "Your turn."

She lets out a small laugh and slips off her heels. I obviously didn’t think that move through very well, because the idea of her long legs and heels wrapped around my waist makes my already hard cock throb.

"You know what? On second thought, you can put those back on."

She giggles and shakes her head. Placing her hands her on her hips, she very pointedly looks down at my pants.

Not one to disappoint, I quickly drag my jeans down my legs and dramatically toss them over my shoulder, making her laugh again. She immediately stops when her eyes make it down to my cock, which is all but tenting my boxer briefs. I tease my thumbs in the elastic waistband and give her a questioning quirk of the eyebrow.

"Jesus, Leo," she breathes and
finally
looks away.

"I vote we call a truce and both go to the bed together," I announce, taking a step toward her.

She nods. "On three?"

"Okay. One, two…" With absolutely zero intentions of ever making it to three, I charge forward, crushing my body into hers and covering her mouth with my own.

I wanted to catch her off guard. Sarah might have just been playing a game with this, but I’d like for her to see how much I
want her.
However, as she frantically shoves a hand into my hair and rolls her tongue in my mouth with a hungry moan, I’m overwhelmed by how much Sarah wants
me.

Her tongue slides around mine as the tingle of her peppermint gum invades my mouth. I trail my hands over her back and down to her ass. It’s only when I meet the smooth, uncovered skin that I realize those sexy lace panties are actually a thong. Suddenly, visions of Sarah’s barely covered ass prowling up my bed invade my mind and force a growl from my throat.

It’s definitely time to move this to a horizontal platform.

I spin us around and back down the hall, careful to never to break the kiss that has gone wild. Her feet barely move as I begin to drag her toward my room. But
barely
is just not fast enough for me right now. When I lift her up, she thankfully gets the message, wrapping her legs around my hips. Unfortunately, what I didn’t prepare for was the moment when her covered core slides against my painfully hard cock. Two scraps of cotton are all that separate us.

"Fuck," I hiss, almost tripping over my own feet.

Sarah lets out her own breathy expletive. It may very well be the only thing that keeps my legs under me and moving toward the bedroom.

THERE IS nothing gentle or sensual about the way I’m kissing Leo. It’s ravenous. This may make me easy like Casey said, but I don’t give a damn what Leo thinks right now.
I want him.
It’s an added bonus that he seems to want me just as badly. But honestly, with the way I
feel
right now, I wouldn’t even care if he was only mildly interested.

I don’t have amnesia. I remember sex. I know it’s amazing. I know I used to love it. But what I don’t remember is this feeling of passion and urgency. I forgot this physical rush that builds with every stroke of Leo’s tongue. I also didn’t remember the spark I felt the second I came into contact with his hard-on. It ignited an uncontrollable flame inside me—one that threatens to consume me if I don’t get closer to him. But I just can’t get close enough to damper it. I absolutely remember sex, but I forgot all of the feelings that made it so spectacular—instead of just a mindless, self-induced orgasm.

Until now.

Leo blindly carries me down the hall. His eyes are closed as he kisses me. He uses one hand to support me, and the other is against the wall to guide his steps—and to occasionally prevent himself from falling. When we get to his room, he crashes us both onto the bed. His body crushes mine and our teeth painfully knock together.

"Shit. I’m sorry," Leo says, leaning away.

"I’m okay." I shove my hands down the back of his boxer briefs, and squeeze his firm ass.

He pushes up on an elbow, resting it next to my head. It lands directly on top of my long hair, which has fanned across the bed.

"Ow, ow, ow. You’re on my hair."

He quickly moves his arm away. "Shit. I’m sorry…again."

"I’m okay," I repeat, crawling backwards up the bed, pulling on his shoulders so he’ll follow me.

I’m desperate for this to continue. So desperate that I don’t pay attention to anything besides trying to regain the full contact we just lost. I’m so focused that I don’t realize where my leg is located in relation to Leo’s body. I lift my knee to maintain the forward momentum up the bed…

"Fuck," he groans, rolling over on the bed with his hands cupped between his legs.

Oh. My. God.
I just kneed him in the balls.

Kill me now.

"Oh my God! Shit. Damn. Fuck. I’m so sorry!" I gasp as my face flushes with embarrassment. "Are you okay?"

Leo doesn’t say anything. He just lifts a finger into the air, asking for a minute with his eyes wrenched shut.