My cheeks flush, and he laughs, taking another gulp. “I have no qualms. He likes you. You’re good for him. But, you guys need to tell Pax because if I could figure it out, you damn well know he will.”
“Next week, after your last game.”
He shrugs. “Not a bad plan. But, we still have bowl games. There’s really no reason to wait.” Before I can consider his words, he lifts his chin. “Pres!” he calls.
I turn, seeing Lincoln. He pauses, his eyes traveling over me in one quick pass. He pivots, making his way toward us, his attention on Arlo. “Hey.” He’s wearing his practice jersey over a pair of jeans, his dark hair mussed in a sexy way that makes me want to mess it up further. He discreetly glances at me, his eyebrows lowering a fraction before looking back at Arlo. “I don’t know how long I’m going to stick around,” he says.
“What? Dude, your expectations are getting too inflated. This is the best party of the year. You basically have a buffet of woman to choose from, all of them tattooed with your jersey.”
I take a fleeting glance around the red jerseys and shirts, realizing how many display his number. I wonder if he’s offended I didn’t wear his number?
Lincoln nods dismissively like he doesn’t feel the need to explain his reasoning.
Arlo winks at me. “Yeah, I get it. Well, I’m off to find someone to celebrate with.” He cuts into the crowd, leaving me with Lincoln in a sea of people.
“What sport are you representing?” he asks, his gaze dropping down my front too fast.
“A mathlete.”
The ghost of a pirate smile appears but is gone before I can appreciate it.
“Poppy with you?” Lincoln asks.
I nod. “Yeah, Chase showed up. They’re talking.”
He nods. “I’m going to get a drink. If you need anything, call me.” He walks away, making my heart sink faster than a popped balloon.
I should take advantage of tonight and spend this time with Poppy, dance and drink too much and have fun, but no matter how many times I try to tell myself how I should feel and act, a trace of bitterness creeps into my thoughts, tainting the moment.
I slide between two guys making their appraisals of me obvious as I follow Lincoln to where he stops at a table cluttered with clear and brown bottles and reaches for the nearest one to him. I catch it in my hand before it meets his lips.
“Lawson,” he says.
“Really?”
“What?” His tone is innocent, his eyes wide, making me believe I’m fabricating the situation and making something out of nothing.
“Are you really going to act like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m not here.”
He pulls the bottle from my grip and takes a long swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Before you say anything, alcohol kills the germs.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
His eyes taunt me, knowing I’m lying.
“Forget it,” I say. “I thought we—”
“Thought we what?” his words are a demand.
“Why are you mad?” My tone reflects the anger visible in his darkened eyes.
He tips the bottle back, taking another pull.
I blow out a sigh, glancing in the direction of where I left Poppy when Lincoln’s fingers slide against my skin, his nose skims my shoulder, and then my neck, stealing my breath. “You walked in here, and I wanted to fight everybody in here.” His voice is quiet and ragged and utterly intoxicating. “Everyone’s watching you.”
“Except you,” I whisper.
His fingers slip farther across my skin, pressing into me, leaving the memory of his touch like a branding. “Especially me,” he says, pulling me closer to him.
“You’ve barely looked at me,” I remind him, hoping he doesn’t hear my breath hitch as his fingers span across my stomach, his touch too light.
“I can’t see a goddamn thing tonight except for you.”
“And anger, apparently.”
“Like a red fucking lens,” he agrees, his free hand trailing the back of my thigh, his touch varying between an intense and direct route to a light trace I have to focus my attention on.
“Is Chase a nice guy?” I ask him.
“Define nice.”
“Should I intervene?”
“Isn’t that her decision to make?”
“Sometimes, we all need saving from ourselves.”
His lips graze my neck, his grip tightening, pressing harder against my skin, revealing each callus on his hands. He breathes me in, and it knocks me unsteady, leaving me drunk on his touch. “Sometimes it’s not the before you have to consider, it’s the after. Regardless of what he’s done or acted like, what is he like now with her.”
I work to keep my footing and prevent myself from leaning into him and letting him swallow me whole. “Are you going to work me out of your system tonight?”
He dips two fingers below the waist of my mini skirt, tangling in the hem of my underwear. “I’m going to try,” he says.
I eye the door of a bathroom open. “Meet me in there,” I say, pointing to the opened door.
He shakes his head. “My idea involves tying you to my bed.”
I blink through the mental images, the idea paints in my head, a thrill racing through my veins.
I grab the bottle he’d drunk from and take a long drink. “I’ll see you in two minutes.”
31
Lincoln
The bottle dangles from her fingers, her hips swaying to an intoxicating beat. Her long legs command my attention, watching her go to the bathroom where she closes the door behind her.
My heart pounds in my chest, desire and lust making me feel untouchable as I weave through the crowds, my focus never veering from the door she’s locked behind.
I scrape a knuckle against the white door, and when the handle starts to give, I push it open, pushing it closed and flicking the lock into place before facing her.
She takes another drink, then sets the bottle on the large counter, licking her lips as she stares too long at my mouth. She wants me to kiss her. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me, the way her body bows toward mine, and the slight gap between her lips.
I close in on her, her blue gaze falling between my eyes and my lips with her intentions clear.
“Public bathroom?” I ask. “This surprises me.”
“I have this … fantasy,” she says, her voice huskier as I run a hand across her chest.
“What’s your fantasy, Raegan?”
“I want to do something sexy in a crowded place, where no one knows what’s going on, but would if they paid attention.”
Her chest rises at my touch, the black lace staining my thoughts. I dip my mouth, pressing a kiss to the soft flesh of her cleavage. “What kind of sexy thing do you want to be caught doing?”
She shakes her head, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink that reminds me of her innocence. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll give you some ideas,” I tell her, righting myself and focusing on those pools of blue that pull me in and drown me, smoothing each concern and reason we shouldn’t be here doing this, making me forget everything except for the promise of pleasure. I seal my mouth over hers, and her hands wrap around my neck, hot against my skin. I grip her hips, lifting her up to the vanity where I plunge my tongue into her mouth and part her thighs. She moans, and I practically come undone, ready to shred the tiny skirt that has had enough glances tonight I’m amazed it’s survived the weight of the attention, and move inside of her, marking her so deeply and thoroughly she won’t be able to forget me.